How to keep going.
14 things to do when you don't know what to do.
❤️🩹Next Sober From Bullshit Recovery Club is Monday, August 16. Register here.
🔮August writing workshop is on the calendar. Join me on August 22, from 10am - 12pm PST. This month’s theme is “PAST LIVES.” Register here.
Questions? Please ask. I’m here and I’d love to hear from you.
As they were leaving the garden
one of the angels bent down to them and whispered
I am to give you this
as you are leaving the garden
I do not know what it is
or what it is for
what you will do with it
you will not be able to keep it
but you will not be able
to keep anything
yet they both reached at once
for the present
and when their hands met
they laughed
The Present by W.S. Merwin
How to Keep Going
Close the laptop, hide your phone. Consider of course the quantity, but also the quality, of input. Close your eyes, consider the tumble of noise behind your forehead.
Go somewhere with a view. Gaze out on the horizon. Relax the corners of your eyes, draw in the soft periphery. Take some of those deeper breaths you’re always reminding yourself to take but rarely do.
When you start to spin, when heat and fire threaten to subsume you, when you want to murder the people closest to you and you catch yourself in elaborate revenge fantasies, go for a run. Throw some iron around. Dig a hole in your backyard, rearrange all the furniture. Shake it out to that angry playlist from last summer. Use the body you have to feel the extent of your strength. Break a sweat. Leave it all on the road, on the barbell, in the dirt. The earth is your witness and can hold it all.
Squeeze in naps when and wherever you’re able.
Look out the window at the birds. Birds! Start to notice the different colors, habits, tendencies, sounds, schedules. The way they sing as they go about their business. Maybe leave some seeds or sweet water out as a thank you.
Wake up hours before anyone else and start a conversation with the place inside yourself that is freaking the hell out, the part of you that doesn’t understand how to compartmentalize. Become still and listen, or let your hand give voice to this place on the page, or go for a long walk without your phone.
Figure out what fun is to you. This is a difficult practice. So far, mine is: 1. hang out with friends. 2. Talk shit at the gym. 3. 🤷🏽♀️🤔😬
Do the best you can, and stick to the plan, but also, eat ice cream and say yes when someone invites you over to have snacks with them, even if it’s at a distance.
Do the opposite of what your lizard brain would have you do. If you’re an isolator, text someone you know will text you back. You don’t even have to tell them you’re having a moment. Sometimes, the reaching out is enough. If you’re a crowdsourcer, sit on your hands. Take a cold shower. Feel your feet on the ground, breath in your lungs.
Have a cry (hahaha as if I have to remind any of you to do this).
If you live in San Francisco, get in your car, or someone else’s car, and drive until the sky is blue and the sun is hot. Sit and bake until you’re just shy of burning.
Put your hands to work. Anything is great. Really. Ideas: You can write. Maybe also make an elaborate meal even if it’s just for yourself (and who are you kidding, your dog); plant some seeds, or transplant that root-bound beast you’ve been neglecting in that room you don’t enter often; write a letter; make a collage; knit or crotchet; paint by number!; and ok, scroll. It’s OK. Do what you have to do.
Slow down. I realize this is not a concrete step. Here’s a start: “Stop. Have a cup of Tea. Climb a tree. Look at where you’ve been. Then, and only then, take a bead on where you want to head next. Go until you’re lost again, or arrive.”
Say no. Become conscious of anything or anyone making demands of you. Interrogate your sense of obligation. Question your motivations. Decline invitations, especially the ones you think you can’t. Make a list of what you might do to fill the space that opens up on the other side of a “no.” Or, take another nap.
SELF MADE is a newsletter for fellow 🌺late bloomers🌺 with a focus on recovery, creativity and community. It's written by me, Dani, a writer, coach, and recovery advocate in San Francisco, CA.
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I like this list very much. And you can always come to my backyard to get out of the fog. 😘