Mindful Iterations
I’m on day 5 of being an ex-smoker. Er, maybe it’s a non-smoker. Whatever. I’m not smoking anymore.
Let me tell you – the first three days were three intensely painful days. Mentally, physically, and emotionally, I’ve been raw.
I was angrier than I think any human should be.
I have felt completely inept when it comes to figuring out what to do with the moments when I’d typically smoke.
I’ve felt extremely sad and empty.
It’s a roller coaster. Anyone who says otherwise is either full of crap, or is an asshole.
I’ve smoked for the majority of the last 18 years. That’s like, half my life. I’ve had weeks and days where I’ve quit in those 18 years, but those weeks and days have been few and far between.
And, now I have to be patient. I feel as though while I’ve been smoking, I’ve had blinders on to other areas that need improving. I’ve known about them, but I’ve not done much about them. Now that I’ve taken action in one area (and it’s a huge deal, quitting smoking), I want to take massive action in EVERY area.
I’m overweight. I am lucky in that my frame allows me to carry some extra weight without looking like a seal, however, I know what the scale says. I also know how I feel when I walk, run, or climb a hill. Partly affected by smoking, partly affected by carrying over 30 pounds of extra weight, those feelings suck. They fucking suck. (Watch out world, she’s cussing openly – she must mean business.)
So, I’m faced with a bit of a dilemma. I can either focus on my new non-smoking ways for a few more weeks, or I can do what I’m doing now – obsessing about all the changes I need to make in my life. Change of diet, change of exercise habits, change of sleeping patterns, change, change, change, change OMG, CHANGE.
I believe in iterations. At least my blog says I do. You know that whole “mindful iterations” thing? I like to think of an iteration as an incremental change; a gradual next step in getting closer to a target.
The truth is, I’m terrified.
I’m terrified of slipping back into complacency. I’m terrified of staying sedentary. I’m terrified of the pain I feel in my legs and my feet, which are most likely because of the extra weight I’m carrying around. I’m terrified of my family history of heart disease and Type II Diabetes. I’m terrified of time and its consequences. I’m terrified of every word I’m typing, and I’m terrified of hitting Publish.
If you somehow stumbled across this post because you’re quitting smoking or because you’re thinking of quitting smoking, or if you’re a bit freaked out or scared because you’ve woken up and found that you need to make some concrete changes in your life in order to live the life you want to live… you’re not alone.
It is scary and painful to realize that things “got out of hand”. If you’re anything like me, you want immediate and overnight success. You want to snap your fingers and watch excess pounds disappear immediately. You want your lung capacity to return to what it used to be. You’re afraid of moving too fast and setting yourself up for failure, but you’re also afraid of not moving fast enough.
Again, you’re not alone. I don’t have the answers. I don’t have any secret way out. But I am doing my damnedest to avoid the fate that most people in my maternal grandmother’s family have had.
You can do it. You’re not alone.
A week and a half ago, I went home to California for the first time in over seven years. I wasn’t sure how I’d feel, having been gone for now what is 1/5 of my life. I haven’t been back to Southern California since my 20′s. I wasn’t sure what I’d find.
I spent weeks stressing out about the flight (I’m not a fan of flying). I wondered if I’d want to move back to the land of the ocean and mountains, or as others call it, the land of the fruits, nuts, and flakes. I wondered if I’d see any of my friends. And, I wondered if I’d still feel the closeness with my friends, some of whom I’ve known since I was 14 years old.
I’m still processing the trip. Truth be told, it was quite emotional. I saw my mom for the first time since January, 2009. I saw several friends, and just as I had hoped, it was like no time had passed. The only signs of aging were a couple of lines on all of our faces, but the connection was there and aside from getting bigger hugs, it was like I had just seen them all yesterday.
Examining the Emptiness
Upon my return to the Mitten (the state I now call home), there was a sense of emptiness. While my philosophical views maintain that emptiness is part of the human condition, it’s not always comfortable. I believe that part of this life’s challenge is learning how to become comfortable in the uncomfortable, and remain “okay” even in the face of a lingering emptiness. But, being that I’m somewhat of a thinker, and I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t, I had to examine the emptiness before moving on.
By examining what I was feeling, I realized something is missing in my life. While I have incredibly close Friends (upper case F friends and lower case f friends are different), the majority of them live in other places. While they’re always a phone call away, the several thousand mile distance renders it impossible to call them and ask to meet for coffee in half an hour, or drive to their house on a moment’s notice. These people are more than casual acquaintances; we know each other at our core.
I Like Authenticity
I have a few Friendships like this with people in the Metro Detroit area, but since I’ve only been here for a few years, the history isn’t the same. Trust and loyalty takes time to build. Additionally, the people I have met in the D have been people I’ve met through work or social media. The people with whom I’ve connected I’ve mostly seen at social media gatherings. Add in the fact that social media relationships have an interesting business-mixed-with-pleasure dynamic, and it can be hard to ascertain who is real and who is just marketing themselves as real. In the age of the personal brand, taking the brand out of the personal can be an uncommon occurrence.
Since my return to Michigan, I haven’t been on Twitter as much as I usually am. When I’m in a reflective state, I find it difficult to hang out on Twitter. I don’t know if it’s because I’m clearly a more-than-140 character kind of a person, or if it’s just too difficult to engage and connect on the level that I want (and need).
I’m also taking some time to learn from the self-examination that came from my trip and making an effort to connect and engage with some people who have stuck out in my mind as really extraordinarily genuine people. I do my best to see the good in all people and recognize where everyone shines, but sometimes people just strike you as “real”.
And, to be fair, I’m also making sure that I’m being authentic and real, too. In this digital age, it’s easy to lose oneself in the timeline of life.
Walk Through Discomfort
I’ll admit that I’m relatively uncomfortable putting this out there. But again, I have to walk through the discomfort and be true to myself.
Earlier today, my partner blogged about doing, instead of trying. She and I have often conversed about my need for things to be perfect.
A few months ago, a friend of mine featured some open letters on her blog. I really liked the format, and I’ve decided I’m going to borrow it. She’s been nagging me to write, so I’m sure she won’t mind.
Dear Perfect,
We’ve been dancing around this for months, years, decades. You show up in your high heels and your fancy pants. That’s right, I said fancy pants. You’ve lured me in one too many times – stroking my face tenderly, only to disappear right when I thought you were in my reach.
I don’t know why it’s taken me so long, but I’ve finally realized something – you’re unattainable. And you know what? I’m okay with that. Why? Because, I don’t want you anymore. It just isn’t working out. I’d say that it’s not you, it’s me, but that wouldn’t be fair to you or me. Why? Because, it isn’t me. It’s you.
You’ve whispered sweet nothings into my ear, “it’s almost good enough. You can’t finish yet. You can’t ship. It has to be… perfect.” Well, guess what – I am finished. And, I am shipping – I’m shipping you – right out the door.
And, just to show you that I’m serious? I’m not going to be their when your trying to get back into my life. That’s right – I misspelled their and your. Are you loosing your mind yet?
This isn’t meant to be mean-spirited. This isn’t easy for me. It’s hard to end a relationship that has defined the core of who you are for so very long. But, I have to. If I wish to live a life of courage and authenticity, I need to live a life without you.
So, hit the road, Perfect. And, don’t you come back (no more, no more).
Love,
Samantha
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