Surviving and/or living in the moment/through moment(s)

Living in the moment is a privilege. 

We are each an accumulation of events and experiences. To the best of my ability, I would love to anchor my existence in a single moment. 

If I am bound, or feel bound by my past however,  it takes an incredible amount of effort to unshackle myself. 

Living in the moment is a privilege: I think very few of us  are able to attain this high.

Living in the moment has been commodified too. Living in the moment is trending. It’s made to look like silky hair blowing in beach air; it’s a boyfriend behind the camera; it’s an acai bowel after an $80 workout; a perfect family outing; it’s a filter. It’s also largely whitewashed.

I suspect that many of the people claiming to be living in the moment are willfully delusional and/or have opted for selective amnesia. I see this as a basic survival skill; our mind and our bodies archiving experiences with biological prowess. And so while I acknowledge this, I am not casting judgment on what anyone does to protect themselves—to ensure that they can be, and will be, nourished by other experiences. 

But for those of us that can’t forget and have opted to forge through the darkness in the hopes of our spotting and uncovering, sources of light—bravo and forge on.

I know that it can be difficult to hear that we should ‘live in the moment’,  that we should ‘let go of the past’, that we are opting for sadness when happiness is apparently right in front of us–

Protect yourself. Silence the noise and silence those that have chosen a journey different from yours. 

Ignore them, ignore them.

Ignore them in the same way they ignore our internal odyssey.

 

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Another take on the topic of introversion

I traveled to Senegal last March for my thesis project. I traveled with a classmate I did not know prior the project.

It was a difficult trip, probably for both us but I’m going to talk about why it was difficult for her.

Over the course of our project, which spanned 9 months, I came to know Olivia* as being largely extroverted. When I learned we would be travel partners, I wasn’t immediately concerned. In fact, I was relieved. Save one other team member, I was very happy that she and I had been selected to travel to Senegal. Once we arrived in Senegal, these sentiments quickly changed. Her extroversion ‘clashed’ with my introversion.

Whereas she would ask very detailed questions (unrelated to the project) about people’s lives with white, invasive curiosity, I would put my hand out as I gently beckoned a child towards me or go sit by the female head of household and observe, impressed with her command of a household that could sometimes hold more than 20 members.

After a long day in a remote area, should we have returned to Dakar, I wanted to sit in the hotel lobby and stare out at the beach-and recover. Olivia wanted to explore and attend live music concerts.

To be fair to her, this was her first time in West Africa. It was not my first; although there were differences compared Ghanaian and Togolese cultures and ways of life, these differences did not feel stark. In a way, I felt at home. But for Olivia, this comfort  and my desire for solitude (despite being) in this exotic and beautiful country was perceived as distant and  generally unenthusiastic.

I was actually ecstatic to be in Senegal. I was looking forward to experiencing this particular West African culture, laced with French perspectives. It was interesting for me to observe the incongruity of this imposed relationship and I was eager to understand the repercussions  of it.

I ended up suffering for this. Olivia reported to our Adviser, that I had not ‘adequately contributed ‘ to the project. I can tell you all the ways in which I did contribute and guide the goals of the project-Olivia’s enthusiasm frequently took us off course. But this is not necessary because Olivia’s complaint had nothing to do with my work ethic and everything to do with my personality.

My friends describe it as ‘resting bitch face’. This points to my ability to be expressionless in a point in time yet, later describe how happy,excited or impressed I was at said time. I understand; more often that not introversion is perceived as a deficiency. But I don’t lack social skills, I don’t like being lonely, but I do appreciate (and need) solitude. These traits aren’t always welcomed in a society that demands you make yourself known at all times.

I have committed to reading a new book every month.  For February, I selected  Introvert Power: Why your Inner Strength is your Inner Power. I have been motivated by Helgoe’s unapologetic description of introversion. Her description of her introversion, precise and inclusive, has begun to foster a better understand of myself and social situations . In fact, her contents page alone had me feeling like she was in my head.

 

Introversion is largely perceived to be a deficit or coming from a place of deep pain, depression or anxiety. It is only a coincidence that I have experienced all the above. What might comes as surprise is that I have also relied on introversion to remove me from these dark places.

In the past, I have readily apologized for myself and labeled myself to sooth other people’s fears and discomfort. Now, I think I about the ways in which I could have made Olivia feel more comfortable around me but to do so would have been apologetic: Sorry for the way I am, here is a list of ways to successfully navigate the glacier that is me, see below–literally. 

Given the brevity of our work together and no detected desire to develop this partnership into a friendship on either part, it’s true that I did not feel any obligation to ‘help her understand me’. What would be generally helpful, is a social shift in our understanding of personality traits. We might also want to consider breaking assumed links between extroversion and success.

So far in my reading, Helgoe has made two important points. The first is that introverts are not in the minority: we actually make up 57% of the population according to large-scale population study. The second point is that no one is either an introvert or a extrovert.

 I suspect that her book will inspire a few more posts on introversion. So happy reading to the both us!

A place to be tried & tested

*I wrote this post before my trip to Ghana  on December 21. For one reason or another, I have been writing without posting. This is an effort to break the silence.

In less than a week, I will return to Ghana. For many reasons, this visit will assess and test the growth I have made since my first blog.

My first post explored the Ghanaian word obolo– meaning fat. My next blog post explored the word oboroni-white. I have no doubts that I will be referred as either many times during my short, 3-week stay.  I have been accustomed to hearing these words. But I am hoping my reactions, if any, will be different. I haven’t suddenly acquired a new race(still not white !) and I am still waiting for my body to respond to a drastic change in eating habits and a gym membership.

I’ve written about a few dark experiences, I’ve explored the various ways in which these events have affected and shaped me, I’ve stated that my prior inability (not unwillingness) to trust had eroded a couple of my most important relationships.

For a couple of months, perhaps exactly since October 31st, the voices in my mind that energize and spark my anxiety, have been very quiet. When the anxious chorus crescendos, with the full agency I now have over my thoughts and feelings, I am immediately able to reverse the dial. In Ghana, I will be temporarily united with my boyfriend    of almost three years. Have I fully released the habits that were influenced by an acute distrust of his feelings and actions? Can I listen to what he says and not fill in conversational gaps with worst possible scenarios ? Will I be able to ask clarifying questions calmly and rationally ? Has the effort I have put into being the best version of myself  for myself and inevitably our relationship, been matched ?

I’m looking forward to being in Ghana during Christmas. This will be my second visit to Ghana during this time. My first Christmas in Ghana was due to my family leaving Saudi Arabia during the Gulf War. I really only recall the ‘fleeing a war’ part so I’m looking forward to creating new memories.

Butterflies don’t chill with caterpillars: Where I acknowledge my progress

I started blogging because I wanted an outlet for my ideas, wanted to practice writing, and perhaps re-channel my anxiety.

To an extent, I think I have been able to do this. I have written about struggles with positive body image, shared personal experience and I’ve touched on some of the challenges I have faced as a third culture kid (TCK).

In fact, my experience as a TCK is the original anchor of my blog. This year, especially in the last several months, as my personal challenges took shape, I relied less on this attribute. It was no longer useful for me narrate my experiences  and emotions through the lens of a TCK.

I didn’t start my blog for followers or likes, but I have been lucky to attract the attention of a few loyal and remarkable followers. I have looked back at my blogs and I’m impressed with much of the content. I have been able to express ideas I’ve suppressed for many years. I’ve opened myself to possible critique, and I’ve maybe given those I’ve shared my blog with a chance to see a different side of me. Or perhaps, just me.

I’ve held back names and some finer details of particular events but for the most part, I have written honestly and to the best of my ability.

This post acknowledges how far I have come and the positive changes I’ve made thus far. Granted, while I have made an overall positive shift, there are things I still struggle with daily. This is just a part of life. What I am positioned to do now is reflect upon these daily struggles with more positivity than I have in previous years. I hope that I have put to death my former ‘doom and gloom’ mentally.

What do I need to work on moving forward ? Well, I’ve spent time doing repairs and I’d like focus on maintenance. But I’m fully aware that life being what it is, I’ll inevitably have to do some repairs along the way. The difference will be in the tools I use–tools that heal without causing more damage.

I’m dedicated to maintaining my ‘ship’ and keeping the water out. As Joel Osteen says, it is not the water surrounding ships but the water that gets in, that sinks ships.

& other long stories

On guarding my heart

Lately, I’ve been talking to myself–but I’m not responding so I am holding on to most of my marbles. What have I been saying? I’ve been saying “God is fighting my battles”. Why?

I say it several times a day actually. In the middle of my sleep if I wake up feeling anxious, when I wake up in the morning, and during the day if I don’t feel like I am being positive. When I say that God is fighting my battles. It does a few things for me; first, it calms me down. It pauses a running mind and gives me a chance to change the conversation I am having with myself. It transfers ownership and responsibility of my challenges to a power far more equipped than I. Finally, it reminds me that there is bigger plan for me; plans that are majestic next to my problems.

Joel Osteen says that when we are in peace, we are in a position of power. If power means having total control over my thoughts and feelings, rather than reacting to what’s going on around me, then I am power hungry. I think that power is akin to a type of control we hope to assert over our lives. Instead of absorbing the impact of each emotional asteroid, power gives us the ability to deflect impact. This isn’t ignorance of what’s going on around us, or an inability to process our emotions. It is emotional intelligence, it is a guarding of our hearts.

“Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it” ( Proverbs 4:23). If I were to absorb each negative thought, allow myself to be affected by negativity, it would affect me. I have thought that I had more control over myself that I really did. But I can tell you that negativity will seep into your actions and your thoughts. After years of letting negativity flow through me, even when I was determined to shut it off, I couldn’t. Too many times I had attempted without success. This lead to leaking. Without my knowledge or consent, drops of negativity disrupted my thoughts and influenced my actions.

God is fighting my battles is how I maintain my tap, how I try to guard my heart.

Don’t make the mistakes I made and think that you can separate your thoughts from your actions, from your words. Your thoughts are an invisible hand. And even if you don’t notice it, someone else will pick up on it. Trust me. And it will affect them, their response will affect you, and you’ll wonder when they changed.

Joel Osteen, in an analogy that I found to be so powerful and accessible, says that ships don’t sink because of the water around them. Ships sink because of the water that gets in them. Guard your heart.

 

 

 

 

That time Joel Osteen dropped several truth bombs on me

Do you talk to yourself the way you talk to other people?

I remember my parents directly and indirectly teaching me how to communicate; what to say, what to not say. It’s something we learn how to do all through life really. Less time, unfortunately, is dedicated to learning how to speak to ourselves. Our intangible thoughts are powerful because they facilitate our relationship with ourselves and with other people. I know I have had less than positive thoughts about a person but it’s all unicorns and rainbows when I speak with them. It’s a little harder to make that switch when you talk to yourself.

When I look back and think about all the things I have said to myself, I am bully. I have picked apart and spat on myself. I think because it’s internal and automatic, it can be hard to control, hard to notice. But the effects are devastating.

Let’s take body image; the less satisfied I have been with my body, the more weight I have gained. If I had noticed this a few years ago, I would have stopped and started yelling compliments at my reflection. My words and my thoughts were negative and they did not reflect what I truly wanted. I wasn’t telling myself that I was healthy, capable of change, beautiful or confident. Instead, I was telling myself that I couldn’t ever lose weight, that I would forever be a slob, and much more. Words matter. As I talked down to myself, I didn’t encourage any positive behavior. In fact, when I spoke negatively, the bad habits and lifestyle that got me to that position were empowered and worse, justified. It was perfectly fine for me to just sit around and eat because, well, I wasn’t ever going to lose weight, that’s what I was telling myself–so there was no need for me to replace my three-topping pizza with a large bowl of kale and dates (or whatever Kate Hudson eats).

Had I changed the conversation I was having with myself sooner, I am confident that I would have experienced different results. As you know, I have been listening to Joel Osteen for several days now and he is having a remarkable effect on me. In The Power of I Am, Osteen says that our words prophesy our future–I think he’s right. It doesn’t mean that if I say, “I will win the lottery tomorrow” I can quit my job today though. Osteen says, “God will release for you what negative words have delayed”.

I can either talk my way to success by believing that the best is coming my way, or I can feed my demise and speak negatively about my future and myself. If I choose the latter, inevitably, my negative words will impact my actions and my attitude. When I started telling myself I was capable of making better food choices, instead of submitting to my thunder thighs (now said lovingly), I was less entised by a slice of pizza (truly!). When I started telling myself, and saying out loud that I was talented, I had a great skill set, my perfect job would find me…I felt less useless, my unemployment wasn’t a burden, it was an opportunity to be creative.

If you’re rolling your eyes saying here’s another bible bumper. My first response would be that I haven’t opened a bible in a long while. I just started listening to a different voice because my own voice had been hurting me for too long. If it helps to replace “God” with “The Universe” or whatever it is you believe in, be my guest. I spent most of my life believing that prayer was activity of the idle, so I will not judge you.

But if you’re repeatedly telling yourself the opposite of what you want, what purpose does that serve? I found that it didn’t serve me, so I changed the conversation.

It’s working.

Things I am not: Separating status from my identity

I graduated from a prestigious school in May with a Masters degree. I also graduated with equally august ideas about what my life would look like post-graduation.

Before I continue, this is the first time, since my acceptance and graduation from the school, that I have mentioned it as a prestigious school. So in case ‘prestigious school’ is a trigger for you, please feel welcome. I am not going to rant about how life has failed me while I wait for my navy blue, gold buttoned blazer to be steam pressed. In fact, I’m sitting in a public laundry facility and there’s an EBT card in my right pocket. I do have said blazer but it’s currently subject to bidding on eBay.

Having been unemployed since May, I have consistently confused my status with my identity. This pushed me into an abyss of self-loathing, depression and unrelenting feelings of uselessness.

For several months, my unemployment meant that I did not have attractive skills, it meant that I hadn’t performed well at school, that my hard work was meaningless and had I even worked hard enough? I was confusing a temporary status with my entire existence.

Who I am is separate and unequal to my employment status. I am hard working, I did well in school; in a few notable courses I out performed my peers, I have an incredibly diverse skill set and I have been fortunate to have had experiences that will make me the perfect candidate for my perfect job when it comes my way.

How we talk to ourselves is so important. I would never talk to my worst enemy the way I often converse with myself. I had to change the conversation I was having with myself to find peace with my situation. When I stared doing that windows started opening. Not windows of opportunity mind you, but windows that let out a lot of bad air. Am I fully employed now? Nope! I don’t even have an interview lined up. But I am doing something now that I used to love and I am finally taking action on ideas that I’ve had for a while.

Given the pressures and schedule of a full time job, especially the type of job I had envisioned for myself, I doubt I would have had the time to do what I am doing now. And after the events of the last two years, I am not sure why I didn’t actually look forward to this time.

I don’t want to give you the impression that this was a smooth transition. It was not. I fought it, kicking and screaming. For months, I’d spend my day applying for jobs, reaching out to people on LinkedIn, formatting and reformatting my resume, I’d go on interviews only to be told some version of ‘It was down to you and one other candidate’. I heard this about four times. Eventually, I had to accept that perhaps, working right now wasn’t what I was supposed to be doing. If it were, someone else would be getting that call.

Learning how to accept things as they are is incredibly difficult. It is incredibly difficult for me because I was taught that if I worked hard, I would get everything I wanted and my achievements would be endless. And this is actually true; except no one ever said I would get what I wanted immediately.

There are other applications to this that have been useful to me, for example, body image. How I perceive myself to look doesn’t mean that I am not worthy of being in a relationship, it does not mean that I can’t have healthy relationships, it does not mean that I am lazy, etc.

I am going to continue reminding myself not to confuse my status with my identity.

—-

This post is inspired by Joel Osteen’s ‘The Power of I Am’.

Writing & Re-writing : Claiming authorship of my story

This post is not about Calculus. But it will rely on an important concept in Calculus. The inflection point. In calculus, the inflection point is where a change in curvature occurs. At the inflection point, a curve can transform from a ‘frown’ to a ‘smile’ and vice versa.

Our lives will have many of these inflection points. Ultimately, life is probably about everything that happens before and after a point of inflection: will we find ourselves smiling or frowning? Will we reach new heights or will we plummet?

In the last 24 hours, I have approached and passed an inflection point. It was intense. It was confusing. My anxious mind completely took over and I plummeted into doom and dismal.

Yesterday, I reached the final frontier of a personal battle, a battle that I have been fighting since January 2014. Yesterday, was the  last formal stage of my journey with the person who tried to rob me of my humanity on New Year’s day. For over a year, I have felt like a character in a story that I was forcibly written into. I let him take authorship of my story, my life, and I was subject to the sways of his pen.

My sexual assault was an inflection point, and beyond this inflection point, I went on a downward spiral, understandably. I will  never put myself down for having gone into a downward spiral. There is nothing inherently wrong with what comes after an inflection point so long as you understand why and you can accept the consequences; what you could be getting or what you could be robbing yourself of.

I lost authorship of my story. I became subject to whatever current I was submersed in. I didn’t put up too much of a fight, I just went with it. And I probably got used to the feeling of the downward current. It can happen that we achieve a sense of comfort in a bad situation, especially if you become accustomed to it. And accustomed I was.

The day before ‘the big day’ I was completely overcome with anxiety. Truthly, I had been anxious days before because I knew the big day was before me. In fact, I had started writing a post about anxiety but I couldn’t complete it.

A Tale of Anxiety: Chronicles of Chaos and Perceived Calamity

My mind is a messy place, if you knew me, you’d probably agree,

I’m stuck seeing the forest, while my comrades, only the tree.

My imagination runs wild,

Often without me.

I’ve many scenarios for a single event,

The outcomes of my playbook leave me in discontent,

I’ve tailored my demise to a disappointing extent.

On the big day, I felt everything: sad, unworthy, disappointed, powerless, failure, optionless, helpless. Because of where I am at the moment, I am confident that was my bottom. I reached the depths of depression and my anxiety violently flung me into a corner I didn’t even recognize. In those moments, I gave up on everything. Everything. If you don’t know what that feels like, feel positively blessed!

I am looking at the last sentence of my draft post: I’ve tailored my demise to a disappointing extent.  I was not in a good place when I wrote that sentence. But there is something true about it. I don’t want  anyone to read this and think you are responsible for your sadness or pain. I think people are on a spectrum of hard to soft. On one end, some of us are metal beings; indestructible, unfazed, unaffected. On the other extreme, some of us are like sponges; we absorb and feel everything. Nothing escapes us. We can become as overcome with happiness as we can sadness. As with everything else, it’s important to achieve a balance that is right for you–and that might not be in the exact middle and thats okay!

For me, who I am, I am too far on the sponge side. And I need to, for my own well-being and preservation, I need to make a some shifts to the left. But not so far that I lose touch with other people and their feelings because that is something I do love about myself. I don’t think that anyone should  self-blame for feeling depressed or sad or whatever. Darkness finds darkness–I think that’s the only thing I can say about that draft sentence. I don’t ever want to author my demise.

And not everyone can help themselves. This idea is hammered into our heads violently. And I think it’s a really harmful thing to preach because it can make someone feel even more helpless.  No one ever really is fully responsible for helping themselves out of a dark time. If you think back to a time you got through something, something or someone got you through. Whether it was God, a book, a friend, a quote, a good weather day, a dream, restful sleep, a song, a glass of cold water–SOMETHING GOT YOU THROUGH. SOMETHING PUSHED YOU TO THAT NEW INFLECTION POINT.

Mental pain is as physically painful as physical pain (watch this 1 min video). I really wish mental health had a better reputation. Few people in my family, even those whose support I rely on, would ever acknowledge that I have ever been depressed. My anxiety was always because I wasn’t doing something right. My parents said I was like that because I wasn’t eating well, or I wasn’t sleeping well, I wasn’t praying. That was the explanation their culture, religion and upbringing offered. And it didn’t help me. WHEN YOU NEED HELP, GET IT.

Anyway, I’ve digressed a little. But it was an important digression.

When I reached the bottom of my pit, after while, the darkness stopped lending comfort. It was now a scary place to be. After years of feeling optionless, I was confronted with a choice. I had to get out. Something had to get me out. And given where I was, it would have to work the first time. As I am writing, I’m a little taken with what has happened in just a two days, and possibly one day.

Change is not a pretty thing. And it doesn’t happen quickly either. My last paragraph is misleading, because this didn’t happen in two days. It was an accumulation of events, of years, of sadness, of hurt, of everything that found me dropping everything, buckled at the knees, actually begging for life.

I don’t expect everything to better  or perfect now. I don’t expect things to go back to normal even. Because that won’t cut it. I have to write my new normal. It is a complete reformatting of myself. What I hope I have gained and secured is control.

I am reclaiming authorship of my story. I am writing the story I want for myself. I’ve let a story I didn’t want flourish in too many hands, hands that never wanted good for me. My imperfect hand won’t write the perfect story but it will be mine, and divinely guided.

I’ve passed my inflection point and I am looking forward to the upward slope. No doubt, I  will meet new inflection points, each will be equally embraced as a growth experience because I know that I am destined for greatness.

—-

To the people that hurt me, you are undoubtedly forgiven. And you can have YOUR story back. It is no longer a story of what happened to me, it is YOUR story of whatYOU did.

To the person that hurt me on New Years. I do not forgive you, But, soon, I will forget you.

—

To be fair, and hopefully help create a safer space for anyone who is in need, I think I have to share what my ‘something’ was, that thing that pushed me to the possibility of a new inflection point.  My ride or die friend had recommended that I read Louise Hay’s Love your body. I was on Amazon, downloading the audio book and I saw Joel Osteen’s The Power of I am as a recommendation. I had actually seen it a few days earlier, and I am also thinking that my friend had also recommended it to me at a different time. I ended up getting a free audible download so I was like what the hell, I’ll download The Power of I am, the guy was literally staring at me. Full disclosure, I have a quantifiable dislike of TV preachers. I have always found their movement to be a business venture. And I’ve seen those masses of people in their audience to be victims of hopelessness, all inevitably, paying for happiness so someone else can travel on a private plane. Anyway, so that was my opinion of Joel Osteen too. But in the darkest corner I have ever experienced, his voice and his words pushed me out. Funny how that works. I don’t think it would outrageous to say that he saved my life yesterday.