This post was originally written on October 4, 2013. It was inspired by Brené Brown’s book Daring Greatly–one of the books that changed my life. I accepted her dear to be vulnerable since it was consistent with the theme of my blog. In the beginning, I was revealing so much about myself that I had masked that people kept commenting on how brave I was. Which really terrified me. But I kept doing it. And now I’m doing it in my new blog post, Neurospicy and Flying.
If you’d like to read the original post, you can access it here.
The next podcast series will include interviews with my niece. This one was from a blog post written on November 27, 2014. You can read the blog post here.
I first learned to knit at an eating disorder conference. The presenter was using knitting as a metaphor for what recovery was like. It’s so difficult to figure out how to get started, or to think you’ve made progress, only to have to rip everything out. The presenter was totally addicted to knitting but clever. And it’s true. Knitting has taught me a lot about life. The blog post can be read here.
I’ve been having moments of synchronicity lately. According to Jung, moments of synchronicity are meaningful coincidences that signify an opportunity to cultivate a deeper connection between the mind and the universe. They often occur in times of crisis and are opportunities for growth.
Most of my moments of synchronicity involve people with whom I am having similar epiphanies. We are going through similar crises, and we are using our self-awareness, our talents, and our minds to find out how to make the life that we want happen.
For example, I was going to write a post on gift-giving the other night, but a book that I’ve had on hold, The Serviceberry, by Robin Wall Kimmerer, became available. I saw that the book was only 2 hours long, and I’m behind on listening to 4 books a month, so I thought I’d knock it out to try to get back on track. I wasn’t sure what it was about, but I loved Braiding Sweetgrass, and she was featured in one of my meditations when they were focusing on gratitude that week. So I was confident I would like it.
Talk about synchronicity! In the book, the author differentiates between gift economies, which are based on the philosophy of abundance and promote gratitude, reciprocity, and community. Which is exactly what I was going to write a blog post about. She compares gift economies to economies that are based on scarcity, which result in competition, hoarding of resources, and surrendering our values so that we actually harm what we love.
A good example of this would be toilet paper at the beginning of the COVID pandemic. Even though people had no idea about anything related to COVID, they figured they better go out and buy all the toilet paper that is available in their local grocery store. And maybe some other grocery stores nearby.
And even after people found out that COVID does not cause GI difficulties that result in a need for extra toilet paper, thereby making it unnecessary to hoard toilet paper, it was still hard to buy toilet paper for months. Because the attitude was, screw all of you! I’ve got my toilet paper so I’m going to be OK if I have COVID because I beat you to the punch!
By the way, the CDC advised against going to the grocery store and buying all the things in a state of panic. But what do they know? It’s a dog eat dog world out there!
In contrast, when Hurricane Helene hit North Carolina in the fall of 2024 so badly that it wiped out all the roads and no emergency personnel could reach rural communities, these communities shared what little resources they had with one another until they could get help. Gift economy.
Kimmerer, who is Potawatomi, gives an example in which someone says something to a man in their tribe like, why don’t you make preserves out of the berries so you can have some for later? In reply, the Native American gentleman says something like, I store the berries in the belly of my brother. Because what good does it do me to have more berries than I need if my brother is hungry? The non-Native American thought Native Americans weren’t very smart and that they probably aren’t going to survive. (Which is true historically because of the Trail of Tears.)
Kimmerer also gives an example of how in an economy of scarcity, we take something like water, which is freely given by Mother Earth, and turn it into something scarce by polluting it. For example, some companies dump their waste into water reserves so that it is no longer safe to drink. So now the only way to have water that is safe to drink is to buy bottled water. Except everyone can’t afford to buy bottled water. Or food, for that matter.
In fact, when there are natural disasters like hurricanes, people go out and buy all the bottled water in every store they can get to and hoard it, just like they do with toilet paper, now that I think about it.
If you’e interested in reading this book yourself, Kimmerer is donating all presales of the book to organizations that protect and restore land.
What I was going to share about gift-giving is that I realized that turning my blog into a book is only the first step of doing what God wants me to do to fulfill my purpose. The book will allow me to have an opportunity to promote its release by providing workshops that will be called Normal in Training: Teaching Adults How to Rest and Play.
Because they already know how to work. In fact, that’s the problem with enjoying life in today’s world. We spend so much time making money to survive if you’re poor, or accumulating wealth if you’re rich, that we don’t spend enough time resting and playing.
But to live a full life, according to one of those weekly meditations I mentioned earlier, this Native American spiritual leader said that in their culture, work, rest, and play are all equally important. I don’t know about you, but I think that’s pretty brilliant. Which is why I decided to give these workshops.
In the workshops, my co-author and I will present our unique knowledge bases. My knowledge base relevant to the workshops is positive psychology, therapy, mindfulness, and self-compassion. My co-author’s knowledge base relevant to the workshops is service dogs, art, publishing, organizing presentations, and wisdom, since she is 76 years old.
We’ll explain why rest and play are important to prioritize mental health and allow you to enjoy your life rather than to work until you die.
Or why it’s important to do things now instead of wish you could do them if you had more time.
Or to decide that in order to take care of everyone else, you have to take care of yourself first.
Or to decide that the money you were going to spend on upgrading your Mercedes Benz might be better utilized on something that gives you time to connect with yourself, to the people you love, and to something greater than yourself–like nature, or another culture, or whatever you like to take a deep dive into.
And then we will start the activities, which will be like an adult version of a day in kindergarten. Because we’re healing our inner child by letting that child rest and play.
The morning will be divided into 3 types of workshops, depending on the skills that my clients have in the city that the workshop will be held in. They will include: 1) something related to art, 2) something related to bodily awareness, and 3) something related to self-awareness.
There will be several options in each category to choose from. And if you want to do more than one, luckily for you, they will all be streamed and participants will have access to the recording as part of their registration fee.
After lunch, there will be afternoon workshops that people can pay extra for. They will vary from city to city, based on what my clients and I use to self-regulate. They will include things like short yoga sessions, massage sessions, stretching sessions, mindfulness coaching, pickleball lessons, singing lessons, creative writing lessons, UGC creator lessons, and acting lessons.
Since no one is required to do anything they don’t want to do, there will be a quiet room in case people are overstimulated. There will be pop-up stores that my clients own. There will be food for breakfast, a mid-morning snack, lunch, a mid-afternoon snack, and an optional dinner that participants can attend to get to know other people in the workshop.
The food will be provided by clients who started their own business or by local vendors who are trying to compete with big businesses.
You can also choose to spend your time asking local vendors about their yoga studio, massage studio, pickleball club, mediation center, pottery studio, knitting/crochet group, etc.
There will be a local bookstore where people can buy our book, Neurospicy and Thriving, as well as books that my co-author and I think are important to read.
There will be a local craft store where you can buy supplies for a beginning art project, and one of our art experts will help you get started.
There will be a store where you can make your own emotional first aid kit. This tool kit is essential for self-soothing once you have become dyregulated and you’re thinking brain has gone off-line.
There will be a place where you can download free art into a book, a magnet, a mug, or whatever you want. You will only have to pay for whatever it costs to make the item, and you can make a donation for whatever you think that item is worth.
All participants will also have the program in which every vendor will have an ad so that if they decide later they want to use one of the vendors that was at the workshop, they will know how to contact them.
Even clients who don’t have a store or a skill yet all want to start learning how to do something that they’ve always wanted to do but never made it a priority, like knitting. So that when the workshop comes to their city in a few years, they can lead the workshop on learning how to knit. It is making my clients step out of their comfort zone and do all the things they’ve always wanted to do but never had the time or the courage to try.
I also tell clients that their presence in the workshop alone is proof that we can all learn how to enjoy life. Because when they tell their story about where they were when they started therapy and how they got to where they are now, participants are going to be like, whoa! It’s really possible!
This is an example of a gift economy. You give based on your talents, and what you receive is even greater than what you give. Because that’s how reciprocity works.
But we’re not giving to receive. We’re giving because we want to help other people who felt just like we did in our lowest moment, so that they know that it can get waaayyy better. And we will all show you how to do it. You will have lots of options and choices.
This workshop will be coming to a city near you. But first we have to finish writing and publishing the book. And then, you are all going to learn how to thrive. If you want to. No pressure. You have free will.
So stay tuned!
P.S. This was in my meditation the night I wrote this post:
My life has changed since I read the book Divergent Mind. And since I’ve been reading Unmasking Autism, which the same Autistic client in a Ph.D. program recommended, my brain is on fire. I can feel the neurons making connections. I need less sleep. I can juggle multiple projects at the same time. I am using more of my skills, and they keep getting better. Every session has become exponentially more effective. I am in love with my life, honored and excited to fulfill God’s plan for me. Which is to free people from the prison of having to mask in a neurotypical world.
And, eventually, to learn how to fly. Like Elphaba and Neo–my two favorite neurodivergent characters.
And I am still regulated, (i.e., practicing self-care, self-soothing).
I thanked my client in session yesterday. I told her that all this change has been made possible because of her. Because she was the one teaching me about what Autism looks like in adult women, I felt I had to do my due diligence and take a deep dive into neurodivergence myself. Since I’m the one who is supposed to be helping her. But every good therapist knows that clients sometimes teach you as much, if not more, than you teach them.
I told her she changed my life for the better and clarified my purpose. So spreading this message of neurodiversity must be part of her purpose, too, since she is very effective at it.
She was pretty happy to hear this.
My client Dee, who is co-writing the book Normal in Training, has also been changed for the better by the realization that she is neurodivergent. She is also writing a blog about how this realization has helped her thrive. She’s 76 years old. As we were talking about the book a few days ago, we both mentioned that we felt smarter, if that’s possible. And it is. I’ll explain why at the end of this post.
While I was reading Unmasking Autism, the author, Devon Brice, was talking about how some of the most serious psychiatric disorders like Bipolar Disorder and Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) are often misdiagnosed because those people are neurodivergent, and the symptoms overlap. Even though he is not a clinical psychologist, he is an Autistic social psychologist and therefore knows how to take a deep dive into any topic. And everything he said about the differences between these disorders and Autism is true.
I was one of those people who was misdianosed. Because the first psychiatrist I ever saw, who I have frequently wrote about because he was so lacking in empathy, diagnosed me with bipolar II even though I was in a depressive episode when he met me and he had never actually seen me in a hypomanic episode. (And never did see me in one.) Just because my dad and one of my brothers are Bipolar I. (Now it’s actually 2 brothers, but I didn’t realize that when I was 40.)
Luckily, with the help of my therapist encouraging me to advocate for myself with my current psychiatrist, who kept putting me on antipsychotics that were turning me into a zombie, in our next appointment my psychiatrist asked me if I thought I was bipolar. Although I told her repeatedly that I didn’t think I was in the past, I simply said no. And she finally agreed and stopped the antipsychotics and put me on a different antidepressant. And I started getting better right away. After a year and a half of intense suffering.
And I still haven’t had a hypomanic episode. Even though she’s seen me in my current state. Which, admittedly, looks pretty similar to hypomania if you don’t know all of the ways people can be neurodivergent.
And since she was brave enough to reconsider my diagnosis, as soon as I read the part in Unmasking Autism about Bipolar Disorder and BPD being misdiagnosed, I left her a message in the portal saying I think she should read these 2 books so that she can make a differential diagnosis between these conditions and Autism.
To be honest, I didn’t expect much because psychiatrists are at the top of the mental health hierarchy. So why would she take advice from a lowly clinical psychologist? Even if I do know my stuff. And her stuff, too, actually.
But she did listen to me. She ordered the books right away. I know because she left me a message saying she’d look into it. And then later left me another message asking me if she had the authors correct.
So now I think even more highly of her for being humble enough to know she doesn’t know but is willing to learn.
In addition to being able to know what your strengths and weaknesses are once you realize you’re neurodivergent, there is another reason why change is possible at any age, regardless of how many times you have failed, or how many diagnoses you have. It’s called neuroplasticity.
Neuroplasticity means that the brain is capable of being rewired. So even if you are neurodivergent, which means you were born with your brain wired differently, or your brain has changed due to head trauma or aging, it is still possible to rewire your brain so that you can function in a neurotypical world.
It takes a lot of work, time, and commitment, but most of the steps are accessible to you. They are:
Self-care
adequate sleep
healthy diet
movement
connection
pleasurable activities
a spiritual practice that focuses on connection with yourself, others, and something larger than yourself— like nature, the universe, or God (not necessarily religion, in which messages can be twisted by humans for evil purposes)
Self-soothing
something that engages all 5 senses
sight: e.g., something pretty
smell: e.g., aromatherapy
sound: e.g., a playlist
touch: e.g., a hug
taste: e.g., a treat
mantras: e.g., I can do hard things. I want to practice gratitude (vs. I should be grateful).
Therapy (but make sure you feel a connection with them while choosing one)
Medication (especially if you’re constantly in fight/flight/freeze/fake (mask), have low energy, sleep all the time, stop eating, feel apathetic, and/or have meltdowns or uncontrollable anger)
Creativity (because we forget how to play, like children)
Meaning and purpose (so we know that we have the power to make things happen)
Surrounding yourself with people who exemplify the kind of person you want to be (perhaps starting with your therapist)
This is possible at any time, at any age, and at every reset. You just have to commit to it. Do these things, and you will first feel mentally stable. And then you will thrive. I promise.
One of the differences between tennis and pickleball is that in tennis you get to be all matchy-matchy. Some women in pickleball wear cute outfits, but they don’t feel the need to match from head to toe and buy multiple pairs of shoes. In tennis, even the professional men on tour like Alcaraz and Sinner match, right down to their socks and shoes.
One of my neurospicy characteristics is my OCD, so I always made everything match down to my underwear, even before I started playing tennis competitively in my early 30’s. I am a little less stringent about matching now, since I work from home and all people can see is the very top of my blouse. And I hate folding clothes so they’re just piled in a huge jumble on my guest bed. And I don’t want to spend time sorting through the pile to make sure I can find a pair of underwear that’s going to match my bra and go with my outfit.
But now that I’ve started playing tennis again, my desire to match everything has come back with a vengeance. Last Monday, I decided to wear everything in 2 shades of purple for pickleball–dark purple (my favorite) and a lighter, lavender color. I debated on whether I wanted to go so far as to get my matching purple jacket and my matching purple gloves. Would people think this is too much? A bit over the top?
Ever since I have embraced my neurodivergence, I have changed. Before, I was training to be normal, like Neo being trained by Morpheus in The Matrix, since he was reborn into the real world. I didn’t trust myself. Do I really have power? Can I really be myself? Am I really all that? Neo asks himself this question over and over again, seeking reassurance from Trinity, the Oracle, and Morpheus. The Oracle tells Neo that he’s not ready. That he’s waiting for something. Morpheus says that he needs to believe. He can only show him the path, but Neo has to walk it.
In the end, there are 2 things that help Neo realize that he’s the One. First, he believes that he can save Morpheus and risks his life doing so. Second, Trinity tells him that the Oracle told her that she would fall in love with the One, and she loves Neo, so he can’t be dead. He needs to get back up and fight. So he does. And then, suddenly, he can read the code, and he destroys the Agents effortlessly.
If you haven’t watched the Matrix, I’m sorry I spoiled it for you. But in my defense, it came out in 1999. And if you haven’t watched it yet, what are you waiting for?! This is one of the greatest movies of all time! They just made two references to it in the musical The Book of Mormons, which my family and I watched yesterday. That’s how relevant it is!
But I digress.
Now that I understand what neurodivergence means, which is that some people’s brains are wired differently, I know what my superpower is. I can feel people’s neurodivergence. I have to think about their particular skills, recalling pervious sessions with them, including details they mentioned but we never focused on. The recognition of their neurodivergence, however, is instantaneous.
When I explain to people what their superpowers are, they begin to thrive almost immediately, knowing deep down that what I’ve seen is true. Just like Morpheus knew that Neo was the One.
By the time we have our next session, they have already come up with new ways to self-soothe when they become distressed. This is the biggest problem that neurospicy people have–the neurotypical world traumatizes them on a daily, sometimes hourly, basis. But once you know how to self-regulate, you no longer have to be depressed, anxious, or have a meltdown for extended periods of time. You can do whatever you need to do to self-regulate.
And then you can thrive. Because they know themselves better than I do, once they’ve been shown how to read the code, they fly. Just like Neo. And they, too, become the Ones.
What does all this have to do with me dressing up in 2 shades of purple from head to toe, including my underwear, socks, and outerwear, you ask? Well, I no longer care what other people think of me. I’m going to do whatever makes me happy. And if you think this picture of me is too matchy-matchy, too bad. Because from now on, this is how I roll.
And this is what my bed of clothes looks like. And I still have one more load to do. Which I just put in the washing machine.
I see a lot of women diagnosed with ADHD in adulthood because they had managed to compensate and succeed with considerable effort, despite having the disorder. It took a while for adults with ADHD to be noticed at all, since the stereotype of ADHD is the boy who can’t sit still in his seat and runs to the window when an ambulance passes by. But it’s even more difficult to diagnose in women because they usually don’t have the hyperactive symptoms that lead to recklessness, impulsivity, and sensation-seeking.
Now in the literature the same phenomenon is happening with people on the autism spectrum. In fact, Autism, ADHD, and Bipolar Disorder are all a part of a larger category called neurodivergence. If that word calls to mind the movie or novel Divergent, it’s actually kind of fitting. People who were different in some way were isolated and seen as a potential danger or threat to society. Not so different from what many people think now.
What’s strange, though, is that many of these women who show traits of being on the spectrum want to be formally diagnosed with Autism. I would explain to them that it wouldn’t really benefit them now because they are adults, and they no longer get accommodations, IEP’s, early intervention programs, and other resources that neurodivergent children can take advantage of. But after reading Divergent Mind, now I do. They wanted to know that their experiences are a known entity with a label and that other people share their sensitivities.
Because I have so many of these clients, I decided to read the book Divergent Mind. And it literally blew my mind. Like, I could feel the neurons in my brain firing, making connections between bits of information I have gathered throughout my life. It was like the equivalent of runner’s high, but a kind of intellectual high that you get when you have a Eureka moment. Or like Neo in the Matrix when he could finally read the code.
Nerenberg describes neurodivergence as simply cognitive differences rather than mental disorders. And there are lots of characteristics of neurodivergence that aren’t considered abnormal but make it difficult for people to navigate the world, nonetheless. Often they are diagnosed with depression or anxiety, because living in a neurotypical world sucks the life out of them. Or they are in a constant hypervigilant state.
The geniuses I went to high school with (you know who you are) are also neurodivergent. But since it’s not a bad thing to be brilliant, no one includes them in this category.
I kind of figured my whole family was neurodivergent, because half of them have bipolar disorder and the other half have anxiety. Some of them have both. I have known for some time that I am a highly sensitive person (HSP) because I read The Highly Sensitive Person decades ago.
In particular, I have mirror synesthesia. I can’t watch horror films because when someone’s arm gets cut off with a chainsaw, it hurts my arm. And I don’t like reading or watching anything that depicts the Holocaust in great detail, because their pain overwhelms me.
I also have a sensory processing disorder (SPD). My brother once told me I had supersonic smell. I don’t like the tickers on ESPN because I get distracted by them and stop watching the game. I don’t like hugs. I’m constantly adjusting the volume on the TV because music makes it louder.
I have insensitivities in proprioception, which means I have difficulty judging my body in space. Consequently, I have bruises all over my arms and legs and have no idea where they came from. Or perhaps because of my sensitivities I don’t have enough bandwidth to calculate my dimensions in space.
I have the same problem with interoception, which is why hunger and depression feel the same to me. And anxiety and having to pee feel the same. I tighten all my muscles when I’m concentrating even if those muscles aren’t needed when I’m playing a song with one finger on Duolingo.
None of these things are necessarily disorders. In fact, Nerenberg refers to them as potential superpowers—IF someone can learn what their sensitives are and learn how to self-sooth when they feel overwhelmed.
Medication and therapy can be helpful, but another possible resource that I didn’t know about is occupational therapy (OT). An occupational therapist can help you identify what your sensitivities are and develop specific coping strategies so that you don’t become overwhelmed and shut down, melt down, or stay in fight/flight/freeze.
After I found this out, I told all of my clients about this resource. Even clients who have stopped seeing me, perhaps because I couldn’t help them with their sensitivities. And I have to say, because I now recognize what my clients’ sensitivities are, or at least recognize that they become dysregulated because of some sensitivity, I feel like the knowledge itself has also become a superpower.
As a result, the mindfulness book that I told you I was going to write is going to specifically address people on the spectrum. Because mindfulness is about being more aware of what’s going on inside you and around you. While everyone can benefit from mindfulness, perhaps people who are on the spectrum who don’t want medication and/or therapy can read this book and learn how to develop tools on their own that can help them thrive.
For those loyal readers following my hip replacement surgery, I wanted to give you an update.
Despite not playing pickleball, not being able to go to barre classes with my family, and being far less social this summer, I was in fairly good spirits until a few weeks before surgery. I had to start asking for help from my family, and I hate asking for help. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that I don’t like asking for help because I’m sensitive to rejection. My inner critic is always telling me no one cares about me, so it’s easy for me to interpret people’s actions as not caring.
In addition, my surgery got moved up by a week. To most “normal” people, that would be good news. But I had been planning for 3 months to have the surgery on a particular day, and the change required me to cancel additional appointments, cancel my friend’s visit–which I had been looking forward to all summer–and stop my pain meds immediately. Not that they were helping. But still. It required a lot of change.
I was also dreading feeling more pain than I was already experiencing, since it had become excruciating. And I was determined to do my exercises every day until the surgery. I ended up skipping my exercises the night before surgery because I had to wake up super early and by that point it seemed irrelevant.
The good news is that I was super relaxed and joking with all the staff, nurses, and doctors while I waited for my surgery. I fell asleep before they even started the anesthesia because they gave me something for anxiety. And after I could feel my legs and they made me walk, I walked effortlessly. And because they gave me an epidural, I wasn’t in pain until about 12:30 am Saturday morning.
I have to admit, the next 2 days were pretty excruciating. Mainly because I was trying to be compliant and get up and walk every hour or 2 while I was awake, and it was torture getting on and off the couch. l only used the pain meds to sleep because I was so paranoid about addiction, so mainly I sucked it up. Luckily by Monday I was good.
This was also when I had my first PT session and he said I was in the top 5% of people in recovery. And you know how I like getting A’s. He said I didn’t need to use the walker anymore and that I would be able to drive later in the week, which is 3 weeks earlier than expected. And as he predicted, by Thursday night I moved back home and by Friday I was walking unassisted and drove 3 times.
My progress has continued to improve rapidly, but because my entire body had been compensating for my hip, I have become more aware of my back pain, which had been present before the surgery but I guess I didn’t register it. But since I dove into work the second week because of my irrational fear of not having money, I had a knot in my back that I had to try to massage and stretch out 5-6 times a day. I would have much preferred to take all the time I had set aside to be off and watch the U.S. Open but the drill sergeant was not having it.
On a positive note, my friend did get to visit me over Labor Day weekend, which worked out better because I was able to walk and drive. We even went to Anakeesta, which ended up being a bust. But I made a video about it that I thought was funny, even if no one else on the trip did.
I’ve learned a lot of lessons from this experience, some of which I’ve shared on my Instagram page if you want to check them out. But I’ll share theme here, too.
People care. As always, when I’m vulnerable, my inner critic is the loudest, but it is always wrong. My family took great care of me. My friend drove for me and gave me tons of positive reinforcement. My friends checked on me. Even my clients asked about me. It’s true that it is an illusion that we are separated from love. We are always connected.
Pain toleranceis a mixed blessing. Had I gone to the orthopedist sooner, like 3 years ago when I had planned, perhaps I could have delayed my surgery. But if it weren’t for my determination to be as strong as possible and do the exercises for 3 months before my surgery, perhaps I wouldn’t have recovered so quickly.
Patience is a virtue. I argued in a former blog post that it is not, but that’s because I was, and still am, impatient. But having to wait for hip surgery, and having to wait another 4 weeks to play is helping me practice, and I think I’m the better for it.
I have much to be grateful for. It’s true that in any given moment, we can look at what we don’t have, or we can look at what we have. We can look at both, even, and perhaps that’s the better option. Rather than “bright-siding” it, which is dismissive of our pain, we acknowledge everything and then decide what in this moment we want to focus on. Right now, the thing that keeps me going is the hope that I can play tennis again, after 6 long years of not being able to. And even if I can’t, I want to be active and see my friends again.
So you know how much I love Karaoke. I am still singing, but my range is shot because of the damage done by my GERD (acid reflux) and some medications I was taking for 15 years (more on that in next post). Although the fundoplication surgery combined with compliance with my inhaler when exercising has really helped with my asthma and throwing up, my range hasn’t improved much.
I have debated on taking voice lessons over the past year because I see how much my friend Michelle and my niece Sadie have improved–and especially since I have an acting contract and can deduct the cost of the lessons–but I still thought it was a waste. It’s not like I sing for a living. My family and friends don’t care if I can’t hit the high notes when we sing Karaoke.
Luckily my family, friend, and niece wouldn’t let me give up. When I asked my brother if it made sense to get lessons if you had a broken instrument, he said that you can still improve the sound that you get from it. Michelle said that I just need to access my head voice for my high notes and that can be learned. And Sadie, the relentless optimist, said I won’t know unless I try. Plus she thinks I can be friends with Deanna, her voice instructor, and she’s always worried about me having friends because my closest friends are all in Roanoke.
So one day, I decided to research whether you can heal your vocal cords from GERD, and it turns out that you can with voice therapy. I figured voice therapy might not be that different from singing lessons, so I contacted Deanna and asked her if the two were similar. Not only did she say they were similar, but she also struggles with GERD and asthma and has learned to alter her techniques to accommodate these issues. So I was sold after that!
I’ve had 4 or 5 lessons now and already my range has improved, although the strength of my voice is still weak. The most amazing thing I’ve learned iis that the reason why I haven’t been able to sing high notes is that my tongue, vocal cords, throat, and larynx have been traumatized from all the throwing up. So essentially, I’m doing trauma therapy. I do exactly what I do with clients but with the focus on my tongue, jaw, neck, and throat. I am training these muscles to relax. Tell the muscles that they’re safe. We’re just releasing sound and air now.
The other thing that voice lessons have taught me is that I’m too hard on myself. I push until my body can’t take it anymore. A bunch of my loyal readers have told me that I’m too hard on myself but it’s hard to let myself off the hook. It’s hard to accept that I can go easy on myself, despite all the self-compassion practice. Although it’s much better than it was when I started this blog.
In lessons, I’m always trying to force the notes out rather than allow them to come out. Very similar to language used in mindfulness–allow, soften, create space, play. This also applies to why I need hip surgery. Because when my hip started hurting 10 years ago, it never occurred to me that I could have arthritis so I never went to the doctor. By the time I found out in January, I was already at the point that I needed hip replacement surgery.
Oh well. Old habits die hard so I’m trying to have compassion for myself. Pushing myself helped me to accomplish a lot of things, and it was the only tool I had in my tool box at that time. But practicing mindfulness and self-compassion have given me so many more tools, and taking voice lessons is helping me practice these tools in a different way.
And because I’ve also added the lovingkindness practice, I’ve finally discovered how to be happy in the present, in this moment. Even when I’m in pain, with little contact with anyone, and without being able to play pickleball.
The choice is ours to free ourselves from the obstacles we create in our minds. Luckily I have God, my family, my friend, Deanna, and myself to thank for this newfound freedom. And if there’s anything that you think is holding you back, it’s not too late for you to be free, either.
By the way, Deanna gives Zoom lessons and also teaches acting, so if you’re interested in working with her, let me know.
You know how people ask you how you feel to be a year older and you usually say the same? Well this year I felt great! And I haven’t felt great in a long time. Which is why I haven’t written a blog post about myself for a few years. So I figured it was time for an update.
It’s been almost 4 years since I’ve moved, and it has taken a long time for me to feel like myself again. Like, in the past few months I had gone through a long depressive episode that was the worst I had ever experienced. And I was already feeling pretty bad, since I moved because I was under so much stress I thought I was going to die before I got to retirement age. So to think that things were going to get better and instead have them get worse for 2-3 years really made me question my relentless optimism.
But I still pushed myself to make a life here–without friends who I considered family, without tennis, which was my life, without financial security, and without a partner. I did lots of things out of my comfort zone. I went to Meetups. I forced myself to go to fitness classes. I started playing pickleball even though I sucked at it. I went on dating apps even though I hated it.
The only things that were successful were pickleball and dating apps. I have made some good friends now, and I met someone who I’m still seeing. He’s a lot younger than me, which was hard to reconcile at first, but now it actually helps me feel younger. In my first birthday blog post I said that I didn’t feel that mature, and I still kinda don’t. Maybe it’s because I am so in touch with my inner child. I don’t know if the relationship is going to last, but I’m becoming more comfortable with not knowing and just accepting what is.
I’m also trying a lot of new things this year, which is also helping me feel more joyful. I’m into Lego flower sets, in addition to my other hobbies. I signed an acting contract with a local talent agency in December and last month I signed a contract as a UGC creator, despite not having any acting experience or not knowing what a UGC creator was. So it’s been an interesting journey. I’m not expecting to make a lot of money, but it gives me other ways to express myself and be creative. And just to see what happens without any expectations.
For my birthday, one good friend came down to visit me, another good friend sent me a meal, the guy I’m seeing came down to surprise me, and I celebrated dinner with my family and with one of my pickleball groups. So I ate well for several days. And all of the Happy Birthday wishes really moved me. I feel so grateful that people took out time to wish me happy birthday. Sometimes several times. Although that might have been an accident. I do that, too. Now I understand what senior moments are. Or what I like to call brain farts.
The other evidence that I’m getting older is that I’m scheduled for hip replacement surgery on August 21. I’ve obviously had arthritis for decades, and I knew my hip was hurting, but I didn’t realize how advanced it was until I fell while playing pickleball back in January. We were going to Disney World in February and I was going to have to walk 20,000 steps a day, so I decided to go to an orthopedic doctor. For some reason, it never occurred to me that the pain could be arthritis. Even more shocking was that it was so advanced that he didn’t think the injection would help and that I would need hip surgery soon. I didn’t believe him but he was right. The first injection lasted just short of 3 months, and the 2nd injection didn’t work at all.
Despite these telltale signs of aging, I’m still in pretty good spirits about it. The prognosis looks good. I should be able to return to pickleball pretty quickly. And I have people to look after me while I’m healing. Financial insecurity and not having anyone to rely on have been 2 of the biggest anxieties of late. It turns out I don’t have to worry about either. For now.
But that is another place where I’m trying to practice mindfulness and be in the moment. My favorite quote is that mindfulness is the process of constantly letting go. Maybe one of the reasons I started practicing is because I knew it was going to be hard to let go of all of the things you lose in life. And to accept all of the things that I had already lost. Plus I wanted to be aware of all of the things I still have to be thankful for. And since I’ve started practicing lovingkindness as well, I’m better able to feel other people’s love rather than question it, worry about losing it, or be anxious about not being loved at all.
I also mentioned in my first birthday blog post that having people read my blog was a gift that I had not anticipated. People would tell me how much it meant to them, when I was just sharing the things that made me feel so flawed. I had no idea how great that would feel. Now I only write occasionally, but people still read my blog, even though I do nothing to promote it anymore. And I’m thankful for that, too.
So brain farts and hip replacement surgery vs. all of the love and new experiences I have in my life. I’ll take that ratio. And speaking of numbers, 56 is divisible by 2 and 7, and is therefore not a prime number. If you read my first birthday post, you know how I feel about prime numbers.
