Importance Resizing

I started to write a post about my wonderful winter break and how restorative it was for me. How nice.  Then I realized what’s really on my mind is this:  While I was away having my break of breaks from work, from compulsive expository writing, from shallow reading trying to pass as close reading, from competitive scrolling, from toggling between e-mail and twitter notifications to see which one is most up-to-date, I reached this searing conclusion: Twitter does not care if I contribute or lurk, go AWOL or stay glued to my screen.  Twitter did not miss me while I was away. And to my great surprise, I didn’t miss Twitter so much, either.

Let me be clear, I am not talking about a digital detox or full scale time out. I had internet access most of the time. However, being away from home and from my laptop and my typical online habits, I regained a distance to my work and my sense of self-importance. Because, let’s be honest, social media can be an amazing tool to help you inflate your sense of self-importance to improbable magnitudes. Not just your followers, but their followers and their followers’ followers – all have the potential to be touched by that clever witticism you tweeted that got retweeted 3 or even 5 times – now that’s reach!  My point here is that being away from the steady shower of critical thinkpieces, longreads, pithy commentary and swift actionable tips helped me appreciate that the parts of social media that I value can be enjoyed in smaller, more targeted doses.

I can also see that life’s other occupations: making good on my speedskating intentions, playing card and board games with friends and family, crocheting until the cows come home (looking for a new scarf), solving puzzles, staring out the window, taking pictures of fog – these are precisely the luxuries that social media cannot provide. They are the tangibles which in my case yielded significant intangibles: rest, recuperation, relaxation, renewal.

The ice, the fog, the peace...

The ice, the fog, the peace…

Social media has plenty to offer me and others. And this organic time-out helped me put things back into perspective. I have some thoughts to share. I look forward to continuing and expanding my learning with and from so many others. But I think I’ll be happier in the process if I leave behind the need to create and be a brand. I am not a commodity. My voice is not here to sell or be sold.  How much I share, in which intensity and tone, will vary. I don’t know exactly who my audience is or will be and that’s okay. I know what I want to write about, what I need and want to say and if that resonates with one or two or fifty folks, then great.

Being away from the keyboard gave me pause, both literal and figurative. And in that time I certainly did a more thorough appraisal of possible exit strategies than ever. Deciding to be here (or not be here) is always a choice.

Photo: Spelic 2015

Got control?

Negative stress, my husband informed me, comes from the feeling of not having control. Yeah, that makes sense, I agreed with him.
It’s a straightforward insight and yet I hadn’t heard it put in such clear terms before. I’ve held onto that thought ever since.

I began observing myself in situations where I became impatient, annoyed or disengaged and discovered distinct patterns. In a short time it became readily apparent that when I felt helpless, at someone else’s mercy, or dependent on an outcome over which I felt I had no say, those negative emotions were almost certain to surface and persist. I found many more examples at home with family than at work which helped me recognize that the real work I needed to do was, above all, on myself.

So I learned to pay closer attention to my sense of control in various situations. Below are some of the things I do to regain control when I am on the verge of losing it or have already lost it. See if any of these make sense to you:

1. I go exercise.
If I can get out on my own, an extended walk helps me re-establish some degree of equilibrium. Just moving, thinking and being outside works wonders. If I don’t have the luxury of going solo, I just get into a space and do some sit-ups, push-ups or sun salutes. The point is, it doesn’t have to be much. I don’t need to change clothes. Simply straining myself a little shifts the energy in my body from overpowered to empowered.

2. I do a little housework.
My husband is an excellent housekeeper and does a lot of the stuff that I tend to avoid. Tackling a small duty, however, makes a positive difference. Folding and storing a load of laundry, sweeping the floor, or washing some dishes by hand. These are all tasks where I can see the results and I feel responsible.

3. I do my hair.
This may sound funny but it works. Doing my hair involves some effort. While I am fond of my naturally wavy-kinky tresses and the versatility of style I enjoy, washing, combing and styling my hair – typically in some form of braid or twist – takes some time and a bit of forearm strength and finger dexterity. Left to its own devices, my hair is wild and dense. Taming it on its own terms into neat side twists or multiple playful braids without the aid of a chemical relaxer becomes a source of stubborn pride and nice visual metaphor for the order I am striving to create and maintain.

4. I prepare myself a healthy meal.
A couple of years ago I undertook the Metabolic Balance program to work on improving my overall nutrition. Strict adherence in the beginning brought great results but after about a half year of seriously disciplined eating habits, I gradually let up and some of my less favorable habits snuck back in. Nevertheless, the basic principles (moderate portions of protein and veggies, minimal carbs, plus a daily apple) are still with me and have had a positive influence on my food intake. So when I prepare one such meal, I usually steam chicken with broccoli seasoned with some ginger, lemon, salt and pepper and then add a couple of cherry tomatoes for color. A tall glass of water to wash it all down and I feel like I have just won the discipline trophy of the year.

5. I write.
Journaling more than two or three times per month is often just enough to remind me that I have a valuable outlet that I may be neglecting. Giving my funk a name, address and telephone number lets me take ownership of my situation in a different and more balanced way. My journal doesn’t argue with me the way my head does. That makes writing a gift that keeps on giving. The more regularly I write, the more familiar I become with my mental and emotional neighborhood, the better I can cope with all manner of crises in my neighborhood and beyond.

Not quite 6. Time out.
I would love to be able to say that I find a quiet corner and go meditate but that is not the reality. When push comes to shove, I may have to leave the room quickly and go sulk for a time. While it may seem childish, it is also sometimes what I need to do before I can attempt a course correction. This type of time out is the ultimate signal that unless I claim that time and space for myself right then and there, the results are likely to be worse rather than better.

This last point is the one I waffled about including. It is not the strategy I am proud of or would recommend. Nevertheless, it is one of the things that I do when it feels like the battle for control is lost, if only briefly.

My primary finding here is that one of the best tools we have for recognizing control is understanding how we feel and behave when it is missing. Identifying these six ways I try to restore or boost my sense of self-control moves me that much closer to growing a resource which can quickly become scarce when the pressure is on and I need it most.

What do you do to manage and negotiate your sense of control? Please share. I would like to hear your thoughts.