Monday, April 10, 2017

resiliency toolkit: create something

some things i'm currently making:  a painting, an outdoor oasis, a mala, a mural

building resiliency and regulation in our everyday lives is an essential life skill.  there are many exercises and brain games we can learn to self-regulate after stress or trauma that are taught in specialized courses (and they are amazing).

often the most effective methods of regulation are built into our everyday lives.  you are likely already doing them. being more intentional about naming them self-care and doing them on the regular (like every day) will go a long way to serve your body and soul and smooth out that hilly ride between sympathetic and parasympathetic nervous systems.

you've seen the "how to take care of yourself lists", right?  these activities are great, but sometimes they don't appeal to certain personalities or lifestyles.  i like to think of resiliency-building occurring within four broad domains: creativity, reflection, movement, and connection.  simply define how you care for yourself on the regular within these four domains and then mindfully do them.

let's start with creativity.

i am an artist, so making art is a huge part of this domain for me.  but let me make this perfectly clear:  you do not have to be an artist or do art to be creative.  think of creativity as building or growing something positive, whether it's dinner, a poem, a garden, a song, a child, a home, a machine (you get the picture).

creating something employs the opposite energy of destruction.  so much of our stress and trauma are about things being destroyed, whether it's a carefully scheduled day or the planet.  use your creative energy to balance that. practicing creativity on a daily basis builds an inner reservoir of this energy for when destruction makes its expected visit.

using your hands, voice, and body to make and fix is also an effective way to discharge the energy of trauma.  our bodies naturally want to build and repair and help.  go with this instinct.  put your hands to use.

so...how do you get creative?

take care loves.

Sunday, April 2, 2017

sunday grace: the garden and preparing for glory


yesterday was the first perfect day of spring in virginia:  sunny, clear, clean (lots of rain earlier in the week), and a beautiful seventy degrees.  we spent the day preparing the front and back yards at gypsy hill so that they can achieve their maximum glory in the months ahead.  the work was quite unglamorous in the sense that it involved more shovels and fertilizer and wheel barrels and trash bins than flowers and lemonade.

i couldn't help but think about the work as a metaphor for life, soul, and embodiment right now:

  • where are the spots that require more digging?
  • how is the ground?  is it packed and settled so tight that it supports, but is bereft of nutrition and aeration?
  • what areas need extra nourishment?  which balance of nutritional components is optimal for current conditions?
  • what are components that may require thinning, pruning, transplanting?  how will they thrive under different circumstances?  more light needed here?  more shade and shelter for this?
  • what needs to be respectfully moved to the compost bin?  how did it once add to the beauty and meaning here?
  • who are the people who show up to do the hard, down and dirty work with you?

i'm reminded of a poem i first read in my adolescence.  it's totally corny but i still love it so much. upon reading these words at age eleven or twelve, i began to discover my first real sense of personal power and agency in the world.  

comes the dawn

after a while you learn the subtle difference
between holding a hand and chaining a soul.
and you learn that love doesn't mean leaning
and company doesn't mean security.
and you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts
and presents aren't promises.
and you begin to accept your defeats
with your head up and your eyes open
with the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child.
and you learn to build all your roads on today
because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans.
and futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.
after a while you learn
that even sunshine burns if you get too much.
so you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
and you learn that you really can endure,
that you really are strong
and you really do have worth.
and you learn and learn,
with every goodbye you learn.

-veronica shoffstall

plant your own garden, actual and metaphorical.
happy sunday junebugs.