I never spilled my water while I was on my journey.
Camping, especially camping alone, gives you a different perspective. Regular world comforts provide us a cushy freedom to make mistakes - an oversize pillow to land on when we fall. But when you're in the woods there is no cushion - you land with a thud. This new reality causes a shift - it creates focus. When it came to water, every wasted drop meant more effort to collect it again later. Every wasted drop meant I might run out of water somewhere down the line. So I focused on collecting my water efficiently. I only focused on collecting that water and nothing else, because nothing else actually mattered. Thinking about other tasks was a distraction, and distractions can lead to mistakes. Now I’m home and I immediately fall back into old patterns. At the water dispenser I fill my cup so high that it splashes out. I do this routinely. I don't focus, I multitask, I'm thinking down the line. Multitasking is trendy, but dare I say multitasking is wasteful. Instead of putting all your effort into one important task you spread it out over many. Instead of doing one thing well, you half-ass a bunch of things. My to-do list perpetuates the distraction, making me think I have multiple things to get done so I should work on as many things as possible. But they don’t help me get more done. My mind is spread out and unfocused. My effort is diluted. The lesson of the forest is to be present in your current state. The lesson is mindfulness. I choose to heed the call. I choose to fill, not spill, my water. I choose to engage the task at hand - successfully complete it or fail and learn from it - and only then do I move on. I will make mistakes - I’ll overfill my water from time to time because that’s my habit. But now every time I do that it will serve as a reminder. Each drop of water that falls to the ground is a tap on the shoulder telling me to be present. Mindfulness isn't merely about observing your feelings and leaving it at that, mindfulness is how we choose to engage the world through our everyday actions. Next time you fill up your water cup, next time you're doing anything really, remember to be present. In every task there is mindfulness. No Doubt
5/14/2015
It's been over a week since I headed out on my journey. Now I sit here, thousands of miles down the road. But not days ago, and every day leading up to it, I doubted if I could make it this far.
Doubt is a tricky beast. He whispers half-truths of safety and sanity, telling you to rethink your decisions, convincing you that half-assing it is still somewhat of an achievement. But he's almost always wrong. Sometimes in life we need to do scary things, because that's how we learn to do great things. I considered ending my trip in Utah and heading home. I had explored some, I got away. I completed some of the journey at least. The next leg of the trip, Yellowstone, was so far away from home, I thought. I was still struggling to get a fire going. I didn't want to deal with freezing cold weather. I'm a bit of a neat freak so I couldn't go four days without a shower. Basically, I could just dial it in, like I seem to do so often in life. But I charged forward. I received encouraging words from my boo. More encouraging words from Cheryl Strayed as I listened to Wild on the drive. And I self-encouraged, willing myself forward, willing myself into strength. And here I am, in Montana on day ten of this journey. I was able to get a raging fire going. I now know I can handle cold and rainy weather. I also know I can handle a *slight* lack of cleanliness. I can travel long distances and not go crazy. I actually enjoy solitude, turns out. And I LOVE being at a campsite with no phone service, disconnected from all of you, at least momentarily. In other words, I've got this. In my normal life, I have a tendency to doubt myself - what I can really handle, how far out of my comfort zone I can get, how strong I really am in life. But I also know we humans are powerful, adaptable animals. We can do much more in life than we imagine. We just have to charge forward with determination. We have to prove doubt wrong. I'm putting my doubt to the test, and quite frankly, doubt is failing. Maybe you don't need to test yourself by going into the woods, or maybe you do. Sometimes we just need a reminder. Sometimes we just need practice to keep reminding ourselves. We're all at different places in life. Some of us already got it. Some of us need a kick in the pants to show ourselves we already got it. Doubt leaves us feeling alone, vulnerable, and weak. But it's all a sham. The doubt is only in your mind. I'm living proof. I am a strong and powerful human being. I can brave all sorts of elements. I can learn and prosper. I'm so over doubt. All By My Self-Conscious
5/12/2015
I'm on a trip all alone, so why do I still care what others think?
A lot of us have this monster inside us. It tells us we need to impress, have it together, look good, get the right haircut, the perfect body, the nicest car, the sweetest setup. When we're out in public the monster growls at us. It tells that us we just said something stupid...or our lives are a mess...or they're hotter...and younger...and tanner. I have the monster sometimes. He's a bitch. I see him laugh at me when someone takes my picture and I look goofy. I hear him criticize me when I look at a mirror and see my little belly. I feel his eyes judge as I walk past anonymous people on the trail, even though I don't know them and will assuredly never see them again. But what difference does it make? What difference do they make. What difference does the monster make? He makes us self-conscious. He stresses us out. He takes us out of the present moment and throws us into doubt. One thing that I've started to appreciate about being alone is that I'm in charge. Everything I do on a given day - if I sleep-in or wake up early...if I take one too many hikes or just laze at my camp...if I watch every nerd movie at the National Parks visitors center, and I always do, trust - that is all up to me. So on this trip, who cares what some random person on the trail thinks of me? Being alone is helping me let it go. I can wear what I want, look how I want, do what I want, be whoever I want. They don't know the real me. So what difference does it make? Monster be damned. Back in the real world, I could use more of this. Less vanity and more being me. Less concern of what I could be doing, or could have done, and more actual doing. Less foolishness and more mindfulness. Addicted to Like
5/8/2015
Might as well face it, you're addicted to like." ~Robert Palmer & Jason Wise Hi. My name is Jason Wise and I'm a likeaholic. With my addiction, likes come in two forms.
There's the digital Facebook kind of like. This one is pretty basic - the excessive liking of posts, the posts seemingly crafted to generate likes, and that saccharine high you feel when you get a lot of attention on something you share. We've all seen it. We've all been there. But there's also a more anthropological type of like. It comes from the comradery of our shared experience. Not just liking something yourself, but liking something together. And by sharing that moment with someone you actually end up liking that person even more. This is the basis of friendship. It's a way we bond with one another. As social beings, it's part of our DNA. It's why we created language. It's why Facebook became a thing. Yesterday I arrived at my first #journeyman destination: Zion National Park. I set up camp in the morning and quickly hit the trails. Out there in nature I saw so many beautiful things. 10,000 beautiful things to be precise (a reference within a reference from Wild by Cheryl Strayed, which I'm currently reading). Every time I saw a beautiful thing I smiled. I mean, how could you not? But now and then, one of those beautiful things was more than just beautiful, it was spectacular. It was awesome, like I'm literally in awe. I tried to take pictures, but when I look at the picture on my phone I scoff, because it's not quite the same. It's like those old ditto copies we had in elementary school: faded, blurry, distorted. No matter how many filters or boosts I use, it doesn't capture it. It can't be captured. So I put down my phone and just marvel. I'm feeling all the feels and it feels wonderful, but in a flash my next thought is...I wish I could share this with someone. Not with an Instagram post, not even in a text, but share it for real, in person. Sure there are other people on the trail. Friendly chatty people, way-too-slow people, smelly German people, feeding the aggressive squirrels people. But I miss having someone I know. I'm miss sharing that view with a friend. I knew going on a solo journey would be lonely. That was one of the reasons I did it. We as a society, and I myself, are so used to leaning on the kind shoulder and shared experience of others. That's good and bad - good because sometimes you need that shoulder to lean on, and bad because sometimes you need to stand on your own. As I stood gazing at the stunning Angels Landing tower in Zion (seriously, Google it) I felt a wave of melancholy. I realized I couldn't nudge a friend next to me and say, "wtf, do you see that amazingness?!" I realized I could never share that particular experience. So you see, this is my affliction. I'm addicted. I've been conditioned to need the attention, the connection, the comradery. I get a little hit when you double tap on my Instagram pic. It feels so good when you like my Facebook mood. But the real good stuff, the sticky-icky, that's when we hang in person, I get a hug, and we clink a beer. This was my first day out on a hike alone, so these are withdrawals. It was tough at times but I made it through. I'm already getting better. Day-one likers anonymous chip in the pocket. I'm learning that I can't share everything with everyone. Some things are for me and me alone. And that's OK. the Mindfulness of Exercise
4/2/2015
When I am running my mind empties itself. Everything I think while running is subordinate to the process. The thoughts that impose themselves on me while running are like light gusts of wind — they appear all of a sudden, disappear again and change nothing." ~ Haruki Murakami, What I Talk About When I Talk About Running I love to run. I especially love trail running. Getting lost in nature takes me away from all the concerns of my everyday life and gives me a renewed focus. I also really enjoy yoga. Not only does it keep my back from throwing a hissy fit, but it's helps keep me physically and mentally balanced.
Whenever I'm focusing on my body in this way—pushing it, stretching it, engaging it, wearing it out—it clears my mind. It's hard to explain, but when I'm exercising I think of everything and nothing at the same time. All the same unmindful thoughts come in, but they move right through me, like passing clouds. They don't carry the same weight they normally do. I see them for what they are... temporary. This is the mindfulness of exercise. Up until now I've mostly used this blog to explore the ways I find mindfulness in my everyday life, and it usually involves some sort of reminder that takes us away from drama and back to a happy place:
Physical activity is the best way I know to quickly screw my head back into place. By going out to the mountains, by laying down on my mat, by lacing up my shoes and putting on an empowering-pop-music playlist, I escape from the craziness that's weighing on my mind and put the focus back on breathing, being present, seeing the world around me, and not letting the little things get to me. By engaging my body in exercise, I almost force myself into mindfulness. My March Monthly Challenge to you is to take on a mindfulness activity. If you're not used to activity at all, start small: get up from your desk once a day and go on a walk. I find the Human app to be a great motivator. The more you walk, the more you want to walk. And thus begins you mindful activity addiction. If you're already a gym rat but don't find it to be very mindful, you also start small: instead of going to your normal gym with all its normal distractions, go outside and exercise in public. Run on a path, take an outdoor yoga class, or use the exercise equipment built into many of today's parks. For everyone, every time you exercise take a moment beforehand to breath and clear your head. In yoga we the start every practice with breathing—inhaling the positive and exhaling the negative—and the same should go for every activity. You don't exercise to cause your body pain, you do it to foster physical health and mental happiness. So take 1 minute, close your eyes, take a deep breath, clear your mind, and allow yourself to focus on the activity at hand. When you're out there walking, running, stretching, and moving, focus on only what you're doing and what's around you. Every other thought that comes into your mind is like a cloud, passing by. After all the clouds move through and you're done moving your body, you'll feel calm. You just hit the reset button on your mind, and you're ready to take on the world. A Poem for Walden
3/30/2015
Here's something I wrote for 8th grade honors English. I got a B. That teacher clearly had it out for me.
~A Poem for Walden~ When in the forest one realizes The world is different. Water covers the great part of the land And that land goes far beyond where we live. Humans go through life hurriedly, Not looking at their surroundings, not looking up. But there are forests and lakes And streams and fields. We resemble ants in many ways. Like most humans, ants fight each other. They kill and battle their own. Ants and humans have too much in common. Through the seasons of the year We should notice all the changes. Life is too short to just hurry by. We must notice our surroundings more. Every winter life is frozen, Animals hibernate, so do the waters. Trees seem to die and ice covers the ground. Life appears dead to those who are looking. Spring changes the life that fell across the land. It is a time of hope and a new beginning. Fog and rain melts the ice. Flowers, animals, and leaves return. Life renews to those who are looking. Life in the woods goes on this way, It all stays the same day by day, season by season. We must change our lives so we will see. We must leave the beaten path, To see the new beginning. Keep Exploring
3/27/2015
There's a big bright beautiful world out there.
Why would you want to stand still? There's billions of souls to connect to. Why wouldn't you introduce yourself to the unfamiliar? There's an endless number of cultures to sample. Why would you always do the same basic thing? There's mountains of photos to expose you to new sights. Why wouldn't you try to see them with your own eyes? There's an infinite amount of unshared ideas. Why would you ever think you know it all? There's hundreds of colors in the simplest of objects. Why wouldn't you dare to imagine an entirely new spectrum? Keep searching. Keep meeting. Keep seeing. Keep learning. Keep expanding. Keep exploring. Reduce Distractions / Reduce Stress
3/24/2015
How many times do you have a bunch of important projects to work on, but instead of actually working on them you go bum around on Facebook? How many times have you promised yourself you'd go to bed early but you stay up, reading yet another mindless article, or an even more mindless comment thread? How did that make you feel? I'm guilty of falling into a distraction trap on the regular. I don't even know why I do it sometimes. It's a habit, a bad habit, where if I have a free moment, even if it's mere seconds, I pull out my phone... tap on that Instagram icon, or Facebook, or Twitter, or Messenger, or edit a few photos, or check my activity progress on Human, or look at the Weather report, or open Pages see how many views my Facebook sites are getting, or Weebly to see if anyone is actually reading this blog (they are!). The list goes on and on. Some months back I turned off notifications for most of these apps. That helps, to a degree. Now I'm not getting beeped and buzzed at just because of a like or a message. But the apps are still there, taunting me. Knowing they exist, knowing there might be new information, creates a mental distraction in it's own right. We have so many options to distract ourselves from all the regular tasks of life, but by wasting our time with distractions we make those tasks much more difficult. You'll still have to finish those projects and go through your to-do list, now you just have less time to do them. The temporary relief you get from the distraction is grossly offset by all the stress it creates in the future. Was the distraction worth it? Did those 45 minutes on Facebook make you feel any better? Did hearting a few pictures on Instagram help you get your real work done? The answer of course is always NO. Remember that. Next time you move that mouse over to open Facebook, remember it. The next time you're tempted to start tapping at apps, remember it. The first step toward breaking any bad habit is to acknowledge that it is bad. Every time you remember it, you're a step closer to forgetting it. Practice Appreciation
3/20/2015
Published elsewhere on Medium.com/jasonjourneyman There's something about going without that makes you appreciate life more.
Recently, I was holed up, stuck at home for 12 days in intense pain after a tonsillectomy. Because of it, I was forcibly deprived of numerous things: food, water, exercise, and social activities, to name a few. I was definitely, well, going without. Before the surgery, not entirely realizing what I was getting into, but I had some expectations. It kind of felt like I was preparing for a little vacation—a week or so off work, no social pressures. "This is going to be fun!" I thought. I was however a little bit worried about FOMO as well. I don't always do so well when I'm stuck at home with a cold on a Saturday night—I want to be out having fun with everyone else, obviously. Pretty much everything I expected about this experience turned out to be wrong though. It was certainly not a vacation... I was a dazed from medications and suffering from pain, not relaxing in any sense. I didn't have an ounce of FOMO either... going out and seeing friends sounded like torture. I didn't necessarily want to be stuck at home, but there was also no other place I'd rather be. My expectations were way off base, but that left room for the unexpected, and the biggest thing I didn't plan on was how appreciative I would feel when it was all over. The physical pain brought me to a place of sadness and despair that I had never really felt before. But it's always darkest before the dawn. Feeling so incredibly low meant that the next time I was up it would feel that much higher. The happiness and appreciation I felt after returning to my normal schedule was unparalleled. I didn't let the little things bother me, I was just happy to be, happy to see my friends, happy for the ability to eat a sandwich. I stopped feeling FOMO. I had, after all, just spent a few weeks stuck in the house "missing out" on things, and guess what, the world didn't end. I become more confident in my decisions. The forced independence created by having to take care of my sick self, bled into every other independent decision I made. This new perspective of gratefulness I'm feeling is something I want to keep with me, to practice, to reuse again and again in the future. I want to remember this experience for the next time I think life sucks. So here I am, writing it down, building an appreciation memorial. I'm not suggesting you put yourself through a tortuously painful surgery to gain a new perspective. You actually don't need to, because at some point in life we all encounter physical or emotional pain. It takes you to a dark place and it ain't fun. But if you choose, you can use the pain to your benefit, use it as a lesson, use it to inspire. Each up and down in life is an opportunity. With practice, with experience, with mindfulness to understand and process how you feel, you learn how to smooth out the ride. When you're feeling down, take a moment to remember that it will get better. You know it'll get better because you've been there before. Remember? Write it all down, how you're feeling, all the things that are shitty AND all the things for which you're grateful. When you're on the other side, when life is good and you're happy, it's also OK to remember that you will feel pain again. That's OK because that's real. Write it all down, all the good things you're feeling, build your own appreciation memorial. Both the ups and downs of life teach us how to survive. They are a yin and yang—they create balance. So just be yourself, feel your feels, write it all down, learn from it, and remember to appreciate life, every stupid second of it. This article is cross-posted with Elephant Journal: www.elephantjournal.com/2015/04/pain-is-inevitable-suffering-is-optional-handling-physical-pain-with-mindfulness We've all heard the whole “pain is inevitable, suffering is optional” idiom thrown around.
I hear it a lot in yoga, often referring to the emotional pain that comes in life, or perhaps the few seconds of “pain” you feel when you get into a triangle pose after a week away from your practice. Suffering in either situation being a choice. That phrase, as I used to know it, sounds so quaint to me now. Last week I had a tonsillectomy, and for those who've never had one let me tell you, it was one of the worst experiences of my life. I had a terrible recovery, but as with any dark cloud in life there is also a silver lining. The pain/suffering idiom became lodged in my mind, and it was the first time I truly, actually, honestly understood it. The suffering was real, and not in some esoteric yoga way, but in the real-life, excruciating pain way. It was a powerfully important lesson. Pain in all its forms just exists, there’s nothing we can do about it. But how we handle that pain is a choice. We can wallow it until it’s physically and emotionally out of control. Or we can change our perspective on it, see it as a means to an end, and ultimately be in charge of our own happiness. I’m definitely not the first, nor the last person to go through this. I talked to many friends about it beforehand, and those who had their tonsils removed as a child said something like, “It’s not so bad, I just remember eating a lot of ice cream!” Contrast that with those who has the surgery as an adult, who said, unequivocally, “It was the worst pain I’ve ever felt in my life!” So I was warned. I knew what I was getting into. Or at least, I “knew” what I was getting into. I came to learn over the week-plus of recovery that it’s one thing to imagine what the “worst pain in your life” might feel like, and it’s quite another thing to actually feel it. The value of experience cannot be underestimated. In those seven or so days I endured more pain than I could’ve ever imagined, the worst being night four, which seemed illogical (shouldn’t you be on the mend at that point?) but was true. Terribly true. That night the level of constant, throbbing, overwhelming pain—and in the throat which is so central to our everyday life—quite literally broke me. Forget swallowing food or water, it hurt just to breathe. My ears were cauldrons of fire. My jaw had just finished a round in the boxing ring. Speaking one word sent razor blades down my throat. No mindfulness exercise or act of positive thinking was enough. I was bulldozed by regret, “why did I agree to have this surgery?!” Flattened by anger, “you are such an idiot!” Conquered by suffering, “you are so weak!” At the peak of my suffering I briefly considered taking every pill I’d been prescribed, because it just wasn’t worth it anymore. Life was no longer a viable option. Thankfully, that idea was quickly dismissed by the quiet voice of rational thought I could still hear through the white noise of pain and narcotics. That emotional breakdown was a low point in my life. But sometimes it’s at our lowest that we finally learn to look up. At a very basic level, my emotions that night made the physical pain worse. Like so many other things, crying uses your throat. So that was my first realization: by wallowing in my pain I was making the pain stronger. Getting upset by it was actually counterintuitive, because it perpetuated the problem. The same lesson goes for many other parts of life: nerves before public speaking is counterintuitive, because that anxiety can actually cause you to make the verbal mistake you’re so nervous about. Anger at someone when they’ve talked smack is counterintuitive, because that anger causes you to be an asshole which actually encourages a negative persona. At a much broader level, letting myself get dragged down by the pain caused me to lose all hope. This was my most important realization: by wallowing in the pain I was letting the pain win. I had no choice in the matter—the pain existed no matter how many deep breaths I took or vicodins I popped. But the suffering I felt, that was entirely up to me. Instead of suffering I could be mindful about the pain, view it as part of the healing process, a means to a much more positive end, as evidence of my throat repairing itself. Wallowing in any pain—physical, emotional or yogi—and letting that pain drag me down, that is entirely up to me. I had a choice: continue to suffer or make up my mind to be happy. I chose to be happy. The next morning was day five, and I woke up in the same excruciating pain. But I also woke up with a smile, because I knew that in a day or so I would feel relief, in a week I would feel back to normal, and in a month my sleep apnea and constant colds would (hopefully) go away. I woke up with a smile, because I knew it was all downhill cruising from there. I woke up with a smile, because I saw the light at the end of the tunnel. I woke up with a smile, because I knew that I no longer had to suffer, and turns out that was really all I needed to know. Express Yourself
2/27/2015
It might come as a surprise to you considering I'm posting these very words on a very public blog, but I'm not always so good at expressing myself, especially not in-person. I tend to be thoughtful in what I say, overly-thoughtful at times, because when I say something I want to really mean it.
Not only does it take me a while to figure out what I want to say and how I want to say it, but even after I've said it, I often immediately think of how I could have said it better. This blog is easy, because I can edit something for days, weeks, and sometimes months (seriously, there are a few screeds I've been editing since last July and they're still not ready to be posted), I can even edit my posts after they've been published, which is good (I enjoyed rethinking my post about Boyhood last week) and bad (I edit my posts after they've been published ad nauseam). Real life doesn't give you an edit button. Once you say something, it's out there. That permanence bothers me. All permanence bothers me. I'm fluid, I live on change, or at least I live on the hope that things will always change, eventually. The digital age makes it worse--it encourages us to self-edit and filter our lives to present a certain image. But putting your thoughts out there, telling people how you feel, and being your honest self are all extremely important aspects of mindfulness. It's the difference between being present and speaking your mind, or worrying about the future so you throttle your voice. Honesty doesn't mean you have to be an asshole either, spouting off the first thought that comes to mind no matter how hurtful. I'm certainly not advocating against tact. There are plenty wonderfully caring people who are present and true to themselves and honest in what they say. I'd like to think I'm someone who is kind. but a little more reserved. We all fall somewhere in the spectrum. More and more, I've learned the importance of expressing myself, openly, fully, outwardly. It can be uncomfortable, but it's oh so important. This blog is an exercise in expressing myself. I've been writing my thoughts down for a while now in private, and that's another way I express myself. In the last few years I've made more of an effort to foster open dialogs with the people I love, from my family to my partner to my friends. At times I've specifically made an effort to stop and think, "why do I enjoy spending time with this person?" I write down the answer and then I tell that friend in-person so they know how much they mean to me. I've found that the more open I am with others—the more I express myself—the more true and honest expressions I get back. This might be the biggest benefit of it all, because when I'm honest and tell someone about my anger, joy, anxiety, or contentment, they're more likely to be honest to me, tell me how they feel, and we start a dialog. It brings us closer together as friends, as family, as partners in life. This is my March monthly challenge to you: EXPRESS YOURSELF Every morning this month, pause and remind yourself to be more honest—let people into your life, think about how you filter yourself on social media, be honest with yourself, and write down how you feel. That expression, that acknowledgment of who you are, that's how you grow. It helps you process your emotions and become more mindful. Write something down that's true about yourself. Right now. Pick up the phone, send an email, or punch out a text to a friend to tell them why you love them. Right now. Notice how good it feels to get that off your chest. Sleep, or Something Like It
1/8/2015
The last few months have been really rough for me in the sleep department. It's been a roller coaster of both bad nights and good.
Through these ups and downs, however, I've grown. I learned about a lot of specific tools to use for a better night's sleep, of course. But I think more importantly, this experience shined a light on the areas of my mindfulness process I hadn't spent much time exploring before now. And for that I am grateful. One big lesson from this has been that I'm not alone. When I reluctantly bring up my sleep issues with friends, I quickly discover that many people are (or have been) in the same boat. We tend to try and avoid the negative in both real and digital life—we post social media updates about the good news, the smiles, the pretty sunsets, the people we love. That's mostly the case. Not always, but mostly. Even when we're hanging with a friend and they ask "how are ya?", most of the time we stick to the basics. It's only with those certain friends, in those private moments, or when we really feel like laying it all out there on Facebook, that we flip over the pancake and expose our burnt edges. Sleep problems seem to be one of those burnt edges. Not just the periodic bad night's sleep because of too much caffeine. I'm talking about the insomnia, the apnea, the bad backs, the snoring partner struggles. So I thought that rather than "vaguebook" about it, this was an opportunity for me to discuss it openly—to flip over the pancake and expose my own burnt edges. I'm going to talk about the mindfulness struggles it unearthed and the remedies I've come to learn from them, that way when you're having a silently-shitty-sleepy-time, you'll remember you're not totally alone. This struggle isn't new to me—It's often difficult for me to shut off my mind when I get into bed. I relive conversations from the previous day, run through my list for tomorrow, and imagine all sorts of future scenarios for the days/weeks/months/years to come. Because of this, my bed is often a place where I'm terribly UNmindful. The quiet darkness of night turns off the external distractions and leaves my mind alone to spiral inward. I tried various techniques: expensive pillows, eye masks, a sleep fan, meditation, avoiding social media before bed, reading boring literature, melatonin, chamomile, ambien. They all work... kinda-sorta. Even the ambien has a spotty track record. The mind is a powerful muscle, enough to overcome the best that western and eastern medicine has to offer. About three months ago all hell broke loose: I threw out my back and caught a head cold at the same time. The sinus congestion worsened my snoring and I had to sleep flat on my back which exacerbated it even more. It was the perfect storm of physical sleep disruption. And then I was told something frightening: I was choking and gasping for air in my sleep. A test confirmed I indeed had sleep apnea, likely for years. All this time and I never knew I was suffocating myself every night and not getting enough rest as a result. Now my sleep issues were two-fold: there was my crazy mind making it difficult for me to fall asleep and my crazy body making it difficult for me to stay asleep. I'm still exploring my options and looking for ways to cure my sleep apnea to finally get a real night's sleep. We got rid of the white noise fan that was drying out the air and purchased a humidifier. My thoughtful mother got us a sleep machine to replce the noise we're used to and a leg pillow to make side sleeping easier. I'm looking into a CPAP and possibly even tonsil surgery as broader solutions. These bedtime struggles unleashed a slew unmindful emotions—frustration, fear, worry, anger, doubt, regret. A lot of "why me's" and "fuck this's" ensued. My bed was the enemy, sleep was the war, and each night was a new battle. I know the basic tools of mindfulness—I've written about a lot of them here (you might have noticed). But I've also written about my difficulties in sticking to my own advice. With sleep apnea on my mind at every night, I often start to worry about how a restless sleep might effect the next day or about the long-term effects of oxygen deprivation on my body. I worry about future rather than mindfully focus on the present, that particular moment, that night, the only thing I actually have control over. Every struggle, every battle, every moment where feel like I'm miles away from the present, is another opportunity to practice mindfulness. It's a chance to acknowledge it, instead of getting frustrated by it. It's a reminder to BREATHE. Sleep for me is still fraught with difficulties, in fact, this week has been a bad one. But I know that each failure, in all aspects of life, is a lesson on how to succeed the next time. So for me, every night is a lesson in mindfulness, it's another practice round, and the more I practice the better it will get. I'll keep learning with every night's sleep, keep turning toward mindfulness instead of frustration, and then I know, one of these nights, it'll finally sink it. Foster the Friendship in 6 Steps
12/17/2014
You gotta have friends, so says Bette.
There are the types of friends you laugh with and the types you can cry with; ideally your best friends are both. But as adults, these types of friends are harder to come by. When you're growing up, especially in school, you spend hours a day with your friends. In college, you might even live together. It's easy to foster close bonds when you're in such close proximity and you hold close interests (class, sleeping, and partying, in no particular order). After college many go their separate ways. Lives begin to revolve around jobs and family and the distance grows. Maintaining friendships and fostering new ones requires a lot more effort. Enter the digital age. Facebook, Twitter, et all promises to bring us closer together, and in many ways they do. You can stay in touch (or at least stalk) friends from near and far: travel with them on vacation, watch their kids grow, follow their marathon training, wish them a happy birthday. For all intents and purposes, you're connected, you're keeping in touch, you're friends. But if that's all you do--sit behind a computer screen and maintain a passive relationship--are you really friends? This kind of passive digital friendship is dangerous. It's easy to get jealous when you watch your "friends" hang out with their friends in the form of check-ins and selfies. How come we haven't developed that close relationship? Why wasn't I invited to that party? You're so close, you can see every little update, but yet you feel so far away. So how do you change this? How do you build real, meaningful, friendships in an age where most of what you see of your friends can be broken down to digital code on a far away computer server? It's time to foster the friendship:
All these things sound like dating advice and, in reality, there isn't much difference between getting to know a friend and getting to know a boy or girl-friend. Friendships are relationships too. If you sit at home drinking wine and clicking "like" you're not going to meet a new friend or a new partner. In both cases you're looking for another person to connect with. In both cases you need to put in a little effort to see how deep that connection will go. Meaningful relationships don't just happen to you, they happen because of you. It doesn't always work out. Maybe the connection just isn't there for them. That's fine, everyone is unique, not everyone will gel. You can choose to get upset by this, or you can choose to turn to your other friends, see what other relationships you can foster, meet new people and connect with them. It's not a finite process. No relationship, friendship or romantic, is static, nor should it be. Keep learning, keep meeting, keep fostering, keep making an effort. The possibilities are endless. *CHILL*
11/20/2014
Life is one big personal renovation. Even in that rare moment when I think I've got it all figured out, there's always some part of me that could be fixed up. In my renovation, being mindful about what I can and cannot control is a long-term project.
It's like this...
It's easy to get dissapointed when people don't react the way we want them to. We let the particulars of our world--where we're coming from--dominate our ability to understand the particulars of someone else's world--where they're coming from. I get frustrated sometimes too, but I keep trying and I keep learning. Starting small always works best. I stuck a post-it note in my car that says *CHILL*. It reminds me that I can't control the bad drivers out there, I can only control my reaction to them. The high blood pressure isn't worth it, just *CHILL*. And that small seed of mindfulness begins to grow like a flowering vine, blooming and creeping to overtake my reaction to everything from work, to exercise, to Facebook, my health, my friendships, even how I react when my dog won't stop barking. The anger, the doubt, the anxiety, none of that is worth it, just *CHILL*. Everybody on this planet is different. The more we learn to be mindful of our reaction to those differences--to be a little more *CHILL*--the more happiness we create, for ourselves and for the world around us. How to Stay Balanced
11/11/2014
I believe in balance.
There's a yin and yang to life. Sometimes you're happy, sometimes sad. The summer is hot, the winter is cold. One year it floods, the other brings a drought. To every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. I know this might seem clichéd and basic, but typically... most of the time... if you're patient... things even out. That balance is as much a part of the natural order of things as it is a part of your mindset. In the middle of the yin of a depressing time it's hard to imagine that the yang of happiness exists, but if you can take one moment to realize that this too will pass, that's the one moment of hope that will set you on the path towards joy again. Expecting balance is one thing you can do to stay present. Pursuing balance directly is another way to help get you there. You get to determine the path you will take every day. You get to choose whether or not your life has balance. There are three paths... you could give into all of your desires and eat fried chicken, cheeseburgers, and poutine every day. You could also torture yourself eating only quinoa, kale, and tofu. OR you could strike a balance, learning to enjoy fresh vegetables for all their benefits while also allowing yourself to enjoy life and indulge in a gravy soaked french fry once in a while. Three paths... you could spend all day updating, commenting, liking, favoriting, and reading articles on Facebook and Twitter. You could also cut yourself off from the world, ignoring messages from friends and the day's news. OR you could strike a balance, using social media to connect and engage but then turning it off when it becomes a distraction and it's time to get work done. Yin and yang. Life in balance. Everything in moderation. When you decide to strike a balance, when you make a conscious effort to enjoy both sides of life without overdoing either, that balance slowly becomes the norm. The extremes of your life that caused guilt and anxiety are washed away by your new, even, easygoing, balanced mindset. |
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blog searchauthorMy name is Jason Wise. Life's all about the journey, man. Find me on Instagram and Facebook. archives
May 2020
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