Nose Up

There’s this longing thing that’s been happening lately, or always, but louder lately, that can have a tendency to interfere with enjoying whatever there is to be enjoyed in my current day to day.  Good news is I noticed that, smacked my forehead in recognition, and said, “Oh yeah, oh right, hello not-enough-itis!”

The urge to upgrade everything and everyone, just a teeny bit, ok maybe a lot, is my default response to uncertainty and fear.      It’s exhausting.  There’s always more to be done before things are really really, really really, okay.  The living room, my income, my weight, my son’s hair, my husband’s wardrobe, my wardrobe, climate change, clutter, the drought, everyone else’s opinion about everything …. So off-kilter me thinks, “Ok I can fix it fix it fix it, or hide, distract, deny, and then I’ll feel okay, really really, really really okay.”

Scrrreach!!! (Record Needle Scratch) Oh Em Geeee.  Oh my I’ve been here before.  I totally know this song — this is my dissatisfaction anthem, the soundtrack to the plane going down, that mood that feels like a jumbo jet careening down, no hope, no help, nothing to keep me away from the cold dark lonely hungry place.

And then, a big breath. I know this song!  A coming clean, an opening up — “Hey friend, I’m in this place, this way, what you got?”  And my friend said, “Cold plunge,” and so I did it.  I gave it a whirl. 

And I don’t know if cold plunge is magic but it feels like magic, to grab that freaking wheel of the plane (or whatever planes have) and pull up.  Say, “Not today. Today is the day this plane stops falling and starts climbing the eff back up.” 

Breakfast. Lunch. Dinner. Bedtime. Walking. Socialtime. And yeah, maybe a cold plunge. Yoga. One ripe nectarine. Painting. Living. Dancing. Naps. Screen cleanse. One bright moment a day. Get it. Get that nose up. Without moving to Bali or a year-long silent retreat or Peruvian ceremony or utopian community. I mean, that’s all available but it’s pretty cool that what I actually need to get out of the fall is so much easier than what I think I need when I’m in the fall. Write a bestseller vs. write one post and force, I mean ask, my friend Gigi to read it.

I have no idea what it is for you but I know what it is for me — noticing that it’s me, my perspective, my stories, my stinking thinking taking me down and I’m actually in charge of getting back up. And it’s doable. I’ve done it. I’m doing it. Again. I’m gonna keep going.

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