Who are you?

If I think about something too much, it becomes a worry. And as I’ve posted about worry burs in the past, I don’t want those hitchhikers getting stuck on you, too. I need a new flavor in my brain, so this post is more about the creative process and less about my concerns with caregiving, healthcare, and work stuff.

What are you making?

I have enjoyed writing since as far back as I can remember. I like sharing stories, connecting over similar experiences, and finding the few degrees of separation between me and a “stranger”. I dabble in quite a few creative hobbies. And I enjoy finding a common thread in our human experience.

Aside from writing, I also knit. It gives me something to do with my hands (idle hands are the devil’s handiwork or some such nonsense), plus it gives me something tangible to “show” for my time. I’ve knitted a few complex patterns, but I mostly prefer to mindlessly knit/purl or k2/p2, forever and ever amen. Mindless knitting allows me to hold a conversation, listen to a podcast, zone out to a favorite album, or stare at a fire. And I get to create something that warms people up (either their heart, their body, or both hopefully).

Check’m out!

I also doodle. I wouldn’t call what I do “drawing”, I don’t know why. Maybe because my husband has a degree in drawing, so I don’t exactly feel qualified to use that word to describe what I do. I basically just scratch feelings onto paper with a writing utensil. I doodle plants, sometimes irises (the eyeball kind), occasionally trees… The flow of the pencil mimicking the flow of nature — branches reach for the sky while the roots search below, a protective layer of bark expanding more every year. The magic of knowing that nature makes sense, and finding stability in her consistency. Noticing the slow silent messages — between flora, fauna, mycelium… and us if we’re patient. Awe-inspiring. When words can’t express a feeling, I doodle it.

I also enjoy taking pictures. I enjoyed four years of photography class in high school, and now just fill up my phone with snapshots of my day. Playing with light and darkness, zooming in and waaayyyyyy oouuuuut. Trying my best to capture the moment — quietly wondering if I’ll ever look at the picture again — and also curious how much of this I’ll forget as I age. I might. I might. I might. It’s in my genes. It’s human nature.

Our brains make room for critical thoughts and memories — survival: finding food, how to eat it. Storytelling is part of survival — Learn from my experience, or help me learn from yours. When we share stories, we’re depositing memories into the cosmos… while simultaneously creating new memories of our time together, sharing stories. And so it goes.

Where are you going?

Most of my creative passions require a bit of stillness. I usually sit while I’m writing, reading, doodling, knitting, playing guitar, sewing, etc.

I’m noticing this year has been very idle for me.

I’m trying to be patient and kind with myself.

One area where I’m channeling patience is my lack of exercise and movement most of this year. I hated greatly disliked exercise all through childhood. In college, I would occasionally go to the gym with my roommate and spend some time on the elliptical machine. As a novice nurse, I walked about a gazillion steps back and forth on the unit, but rarely anything one would consider “exercise” beyond that. I did paintball once in my mid-twenties and was fucking dying the next day — my whole body was so sore I could barely walk. I had so much fun paintballing, and would have happily done it regularly — exercise as play? Yes, please! But alas, I have yet to return. (The bruises eventually healed, though).

That was the extent of my exercise.

What are you doing?

I was not practicing what I preached to my patients. (Eh… Pobody’s Nerfect, amiright?)

But then, 
      somehow, 
             a 
                 spark. 

I don’t remember deciding to do it, but somewhere around 2012-2013 I bought a 7lb kettlebell. It was pink and it came with an instructional DVD. The workout was awesome, and I was sweating like crazy by the end. I didn’t warm up or cool down, but I felt like I’d accomplished something big for myself. A shift occurred.

It hurt, and I liked it. And I wanted to do it again.

The next day, similar to my paintball experience, I was so sore. Like, painfully sore. My calves, quads, glutes, hamstrings… every bit of my lower body, and most of the upper, was locked up. Youch.

Rather than give up, I decided to find some instructional videos on youtube and stumbled across Fitness Blender. Daniel and Kelli are a couple from the PNW who love fitness and want people to have access to safe and effective workouts, no matter their situation. They have exercises with no equipment, minimal equipment, and for all levels of fitness ability. I started following their videos sometime around 2013 I think, and until this year, I was working out with them regularly. I’ve watched them grow their website, their group of instructors, and their content. They’ve grown and kept moving, but I have somehow become stagnant.

What changed?

Where did my decade-long workout habit go?

From here, it looks like I got weighed down by the world I’m carrying on my shoulders. (Put that down).

Remembering progress pictures as I started to notice the way my body changed shape.

Smiling remembering how strong I felt — spiritually and physically.

Smirking, noticing how the lack of exercise feels, and patiently abiding (for now).

A shift occurred in the past year.

2022, in my mind, was “our year”. Not 2021 — we still had a bunch of pandemic to get through. But what kept me hopeful was that 2022 would be it. It was something, alright.

It almost feels like… and this stings a bit to say… like my spirit wanted my outsides to match my insides. I just don’t have it in me right now — as I curl up on the couch and numb my worries away. I can’t believe this is what we’ve been working to save for so long — hiding under a blanket until hope returns. Why do we even bother? — as I fill my face with every sweet and savory morsel within reach, wondering why I still don’t feel “right”.

And it dawns on me…

Slowly — like, unbelievably slow — imperceptible waking.

I have been waiting all year to “get back to normal”. 2020 was unprecedented. I went into 2021 expecting more of the same, and we got what we paid for. But 2022, “our year”, has been a mother forking shirt show. The thought of getting back to concerts, gatherings, rituals, patterns — sustained me through 2021 — and didn’t go as I’d hoped in real life. My spiritual medicine was… delayed. Postponed. Rescheduled. Cancelled.

But here’s the thing… and this is the part I’m waking up to:

I was/am clinging so hard to “should” — what this year should have been, the experiences I should have had, how we should be back to “normal” by now… Should Should Should…

“Don’t you should on me, and I won’t drop my shoulds on you” (Wookiefoot).

… and it is exactly that clinging where I find myself suffering the most.

          Not loud, screaming-muscle suffering. 
     Sneaky, obscured, vague discomfort. 
          Not sorrowful, sobbing suffering. 
     But muted joy and uncertain happiness. 

It has taken (and is taking me) time to even notice this clinging. A tight grip on how I should feel, act, perceive, and experience the unfolding world around me.

But in noticing, I am empowered to move.

Movement in this moment is putting these thoughts into words, and typing them into a post online.

And then, it can be taking a walk around the block twice when I wake up in the morning. Specific-Measurable-Attainable-Relevant-Timebound (my smart goal).

And then… finding a low-impact workout, like this one from a few years back:

(No equipment needed for this one!)

And then, and then, and then.

And then hitting “Submit”, and sending this into the cosmos, and letting myself rest again. And again, and again.

I may not resume exercising every day, but I know I feel better when I move consistently. Like planning for anything, it helps to have goals and to share them with a partner. Today, internet, you are my accountability partner. Ready?

Now, go get some rest — give what you can, and take what you need — and then, let’s get moving! (I tucked a poll down below, let’s try it out).

Love,

Jessie

PS: Take good care