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On Self Care :: Boundaries, boundaries, boundaries!

Boundaries define us.  They define what is me and what is not me. A boundary shows me where I end and where someone else begins, leading me to a sense of ownership.  Knowing what I am to own and take responsibility for gives me freedom.

~Henry Cloud

Boundaries.

We talk about them a lot.  On my most recent Open Office Hours call we talked about them, in fact.

We talked about what a boundary is.  What they mean to us.  What some of our “obstacles” may be in honoring or defending our own boundaries.  What some of our stories are when others honor their own boundaries. How boundaries run both ways.  How they are fluid.  How they are complex.

There are many things I believe about our boundaries.  One is that they are fluid and living and breathing; they change from day to day and person to person.  In a phrase, what our boundaries actually are depends on All The Things.

In my experience there are no hard and fast rules when it comes to boundaries.  What may be a firm boundary with person A today may not be a boundary at all tomorrow with person B.  Many of our personal boundaries change with time, and some never change at all.  This is part of life – we all change and grow and it makes sense that our boundaries would do so too.

I also deeply believe our boundaries, physical, psychological, and emotional, are directly tied to our bodies.  What I mean by this is that I believe we can sense when a boundary is being violated long before we are fully consciously aware of what it happening.  Our body reacts, in one way or another, to this intrusion.  It could show up as a knot in our stomach or literal pain in our neck.  It could show up as suddenly feeling agitated or anxious, without any “real” or “logical” explanation.  It could show up in any number of ways.  The point being, our body is giving us information, long before our brain can comprehend what is going on.

Our boundaries are also tied to our histories.  If we have trauma in our past, how our caretakers modeled boundaries when we were children, both inform what our boundaries are as well as how we react when our boundaries have been violated.

Our culture also informs our boundaries, and more importantly, how or if we defend them.  We all have messages about “being nice” and “not hurting people’s feelings” in our psyches and bodies to unravel.

We have all been told in one way or another that our Noes don’t matter, aren’t valid, and should never be voiced.

Most of us learned at a young age that when we say no to someone or something we are giving them a message that we don’t love them.  And of course, while we internalized this direct message, we also internalized the reverse :: that if someone says no to us it means they don’t love us.

Again, boundaries go both ways.  There are our own boundaries for us to connect to and consciously and intentionally decide to defend (or not!) and there are the boundaries of others that may stir up some of our own stories of worth and value and instigate an unconscious response from us.

There is so much for each of us to unravel around our boundaries, including becoming consciously aware of where they come from and when and if we want to honor  and defend them (and I’ll tell you now, the answer isn’t always yes, there can be many different reasons why we don’t defend our boundaries and none of them have to do with us being “weak” or having “poor judgement.”)

I talk more about this in the 13 minute video below ::

This essay is the second in a three part series I have put together to introduce some of the topics we’ll be exploring in my winter self-care circle, Self Care for Challenging Times :: Holiday Edition.  If you’d like to learn more and possibly join us, you can click right here.

Other essays & videos in this series ::

Holidays, Trauma, & Our Nervous Systems

Stress, Grief, & Embodiment

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On Self Care :: Holidays, trauma & our nervous systems

Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare.

~Audre Lorde

We are entering into that time of year again.  That time here in the northern hemisphere where the light recedes and we enter into more and more darkness as each day passes.  It is also the time of year of the winter holiday celebrations, which can for some of us, bring their own darkness with them.

I have always declared that the winter holiday season begins with my birthday in mid-October.  Then quickly is Halloween and the All Souls and All Saints Days.  Next is Thanksgiving.  And then we move into December when most religions have a festival of lights celebration of one kind or another.  With all these holidays often comes gatherings with family – ones that we either attend or avoid.  With these gatherings come all the stresses of connecting with our families, be that in person or in spirit.

There is also the truth that for many of us this time of year is a painful reminder of the people we have lost in our lives, either through death or severing of ties.  It can be a reminder of those we loved who aren’t here to celebrate with us, and the grief that comes forward has its own way of showing up at a time of year we are told over and over we need to be joyous.

There are a million plus different reasons why the this time of year can be challenging in many ways and why we all need to remember self-care, real self-care, during this coming seaon.

One of my frustrations with our current culture is how the term self care is defined. For many this term has a very white, privileged look to it.  It looks like spa days or mani-pedis, or days at the salon, or weeks at some tropical local.  It’s looks like, according to many, something only the wealthy can afford.

I have a very different definition of self care.

For me, self care is first and foremost about calming and soothing our nervous systems.  It is self-regulation and being able to bring ourselves back from a “triggered” or highly emotional state.  This can look like many different things, including drinking water, getting sleep, any of the numerous Nervous System Soothing tips I share with you in the weekly love letter and on Facebook, drinking tea, locking ourselves in the bathroom for five minutes of solitude… all of those things are self care. These are the small, non-glamorous things that keep us going and keep us feeling calm and sane.

And, self-care isn’t 100% regulating our nervous systems.  The other big piece of self care, for me, is boundaries.

You know, that whole being able to say No thing.  (I’ll talk more about boundaries as self-care in the next essay in this series.)

However, I do believe that before we can really connect to, and then honor and enforce, our boundaries, we need to be able to connect to our bodies and calm our nervous systems.

What do I mean by “calm our nervous system,” “triggered state,” or “activated nervous system”?

I deeply believe that all of us have trauma living within our bodies.  It could be a trauma (or multiple traumas) of our personal lived experience.  This could look like abuse, neglect, rape, or car accidents, surgeries, living through natural disasters.  Any and all of those events that we may personally experience our bodies experience as traumatic events.

In addition, we have intergenerational, or ancestral, trauma living in our DNA. Epigenetics has shown us how these “trauma markers” are passed down through the generations and how they are “mutable” or “reversable”.  This means that the unresolved, unprocessed traumas of our parents, grandparents, and back to the beginnings of time, live in our bodies today.

Finally, there is what I call Cultural Relational Trauma.  This is the trauma we experience living in a white supremacist, capitalistic, misogynist, patriarchal culture.  This is the trauma of isolation, of being told we are less than, not enough, too much, that we should feel shame for who we are and for existing at all.  This is the trauma that tears us from our communities and teaches us that one “group”is somehow superior to another.  It is the trauma we hold in our bodies that is put in us every day.

Because we all carry trauma in us, our nervous systems are generally all out of sorts.  What this looks like day to day is that we are easily irritated, or anxious, or depressed, or have rapid and far ranging mood swings, or feel like we want to crawl out of our skin on a regular basis – but with all of these things happening we can’t always pinpoint the why or what actually caused the dysregulation or what is also called an “activated” nervous system or a triggered state.

Calming or soothing our nervous system brings us out of this activated state.  It allows us to feel good in our bodies, to be in our frontal lobes (where empathy and logic live), and eventually to respond to stimulus (or triggers) in a way that isn’t harmful to ourselves or others (and by harmful I mean not only physically, but also emotionally, psychologically, and physiologically).

I talk more about this in the 11-minute video below ::

This essay is the first in a three part series I have put together to introduce some of the topics we’ll be exploring in my winter self-care circle, Self Care for Challenging Times :: Holiday Edition.  If you’d like to learn more and possibly join us, you can click right here.

Other essays in this series :: (active links coming soon)

Boundaries, Boundaries, Boundaries!

Stress, Grief, & Embodiment

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On Unleashing and Rebellion

I’ve been writing for a while about the idea of being unleashed. How the word unleashed has sunk its fangs into me and the truth of it is swirling around in my blood and nerves.

The idea of needing or wanting to be unleashed. Because we have been tamed. Domesticated. Trained.

How we are taught that being unleashed equates to being out of control and very, very, very dangerous.

How fighting tooth and nail to become unleashed is an act of rebellion.

Which then leads me down the path of thinking about rebellion. How on the one hand many of us were taught to stand up for ourselves, to go against the grain, to be our own person. And then in those moments when we do we are told how we are wrong and bad.

The shame involved in not-so-simply speaking our truth, using our voice, being our own person. It runs deep and is fed to us over and over and over again, both intentionally and unintentionally, by our family, our “authority figures,” our culture.

We live in a culture that glorifies rebellion in may ways. Or really, only in a fashion sense.

Rebellion isn’t about fashion. Though, it certainly can be.

Rebellion is more complicated than our clothing or hairstyle choices though.  It is messy. It’s dirty. It’s about dragging ourselves through the mud and shit and remaining unapologetically ourselves. It is standing firm and bending but not breaking.

It is being self-reflective and self-aware.

Rebellion is about being unleashed. Breaking the rules. Saying fuck you to the status quo. Shaking shit up and burning it the hell down.

Rebellion brings about change. Transformation. Destruction and then creation.

Rebellion is dangerous.  To the status quo. To the patriarchy. To white supremacy. To misogyny. To getting on to get along. To silence. To shame.

Being unleashed is dangerous to all those players too. Because once we have torn off that leash, they can no longer control us. Because we don’t believe their lies any more. Because we now know our power, we feel it coursing through our blood and we’ll be damned if we are going to let the world continue on as if everything is just fine.

Shit is not just fine.

Rapists are not serving full jail time because it might be too damaging to them.

Teenagers are spreading racial hatred and calling for a return of slavery.

Women and children are being murdered. Every. damn. day. For speaking up. For having the “wrong” color skin. For wearing the “wrong” clothes. For daring to breathe.

And we are on our leashes and watching it all happen.

To me, the first part, perhaps the only part, of becoming unleashed, is allowing all we have tied, stuffed, pushed down, and tried to ignore to come up to the surface. To be acknowledged. To be seen. To be heard.

There is a lot of rage that is being stuffed. A lot of grief too.

We have a lot to be angry about. Our rage is very, very, valid.

We have a lot to grieve. So much has been lost and stolen.

I see the pockets and corners where rage and grief are bubbling up and out. I see the power coming to the surface. I watch women stand taller. Find their voice. See with new eyes. Know, in their marrow, their worth, their value, their truth.

So yes, perhaps being unleashed is dangerous.

Because once we know our worth, our power; once we trust our selves and use our voice… all hell breaks loose.

And it is a glorious and gorgeous rebellion to be a part of.

Let’s do this. Let’s let our our fury. Our rage. Let’s acknowledge our grief. Let’s open our throats and let out our wails, our howls and our roars.

Let’s burn this shit down and create something gorgeous from the rubble and ashes.

In rebellious solidarity, always.

xoox

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The doing and the being. The nourishing and replenishing.

I’ve been feeling the feels lately.

I’ve been on a bit of a roller coaster.

I’ve been busy with the doing. The doing of gathering and guiding circles. The doing of figuring out next steps. The doing of mothering and homeschooling and wifing and friending and well, adulting in general.

I haven’t been getting enough sleep.

Or downtime.

Or space.

Or water.

I crave space. Silence. To write. To breathe. To be.

To sit and be.

Toddlers are not about sitting and being. They are about the doing. Nine year olds are too, to a degree. Well, also forty-four year olds.

What I am remembering is the importance of space. I am craving spaciousness. So much so that I cleaned off our kitchen counter on Thursday. It is a blank slate. I need the blank. The open. The empty.

We all do sometimes.

Only when we are empty can we fill ourselves up.

I don’t feel empty. I feel full. Too full. Overflowing full.

And that has it’s own beauty and light. And still, exhausting. And the wanting something different.

Friday the kids and I met a friend and we went for a little hike at a nearby park that is filled with woods and trails. I could have spent the day in those woods. Instead we spend less than an hour.

And for all the doing and going of the toddler, his short legs allowed a very slow pace.

And breathing.

And stopping to look at mushrooms growing on fallen logs.

And there I found some space in the doing.

I’ve been talking a lot about self-care in my circles. What it is, how we deserve it, and how our practices ebb and flow. I’m a bit talked out about it at the moment and allowing my own words to sink into my being.

As I write this, a tall glass of water is next to me.

As I write this, I stop and count my exhales a few times. And let out deep sighs.

As I write this, I think back to this morning and know in all my fiber I need more time in the woods with the trees and overgrowth and the mushrooms.

Slowly slowing, moving back to nourishing. Back to replenishing. Feeling this tide come in. Or maybe it’s going out. Either way, I feel the ebbing or the flowing; the shifting; the movement and the settling.

Sending you breath and peace and space and being.
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Self Actualization in Community

What should young people do with their lives today? Many things, obviously. But the most daring thing is to create stable communities in which the terrible disease of loneliness can be cured.  ~Kurt Vonnegut Jr., Palm Sunday: An Autobiographical Collage

Over the last few weeks I have written to you about individuation/self-actualization and three parts (Release, Revolution (The Goo), Reclamation) of this process as I see it.

In these emails you may get the impression that this is solitary work, work we do off on our own.  But just as Inanna needed the help of the Ninshubar, we too need the support and help of community in our own individual processes of taking off our cultural and familial leashes.

We humans are social creatures. We always have been.  Throughout evolution we have relied on our communities for support, for protection, for security, for the accumulation of resources and the meeting of our basic needs (such as food, water, shelter, a sense of safeness, and a sense of belonging).

In most cases, except those rare instances, when we wander off by ourselves into the wild, we die.

I deeply believe this is also true of this deep inner work of unearthing, unraveling, and unlearning; of release, revolution, and reclamation :: we need our community.  Not to do the work for us, no, only we can do that. Rather to support us, to hold us, to mirror back to us, as we move through it all.  To accept as as we are, while also encouraging us to dig deep and unravel and bring those hidden, those stuffed down, those forgotten or ignored parts of us into the light.

This community can look however we need it to look.  Perhaps it it includes our therapist (I know mine does!), close, sister-like friends, family, intimate partners.  Any and all of the people who “get it.”

Sometimes the communities we need to gather around us as we do this work, are doing their own work at the same time, in tandem, right along side us.  So we can both witness and be witnessed, see and be seen, hear and be heard.

And sometimes, for whatever reasons, just the right person or people enter into our lives at just the right moment, and then for any and all of the reasons, they are only with us briefly.

Community can look like any of these things.  It can be fluid.  It can be solid.  It can sway and be deeply rooted like a willow tree.

And.

As I mentioned in the first essay of this series, one of our basic human needs is that of belonging.  Without our sense of belonging (and safety, and having needs of food, water, shelter met), we cannot do this deeper inner work.  We need to feel a part of something.  We need to feel that we matter to our community in some way.

This need can, of course, go wonky on us.  The whole reason cults work is based on this need for belonging. Those aren’t the kinds of communities I’m talking about.

It is important, that our communities, where we find our belonging, are ones that encourage our own growth, that encourage us to question the “authorities”, that invite us to do differently, and still be accepted and included.

It is in these kinds of communities, where we find something akin to unconditional (within some amount of reason) love and acceptance.  These kinds of communities where we feel we are fine just as we are.  These kinds of communities where we don’t have to do or be exactly like everyone else in order to belong.

Those are the kinds of communities that allow us the space to do this deep work of unraveling our cultural conditioning, of unearthing those generations old stories of how we are too much and not enough and unworthy and undeserving.

It is only in these consent-based, non-authoritarian communities where we can truly and deeply do this work.  (I’ll be writing more on authoritarianism in my next essay/video series).

And it is with this love, this support, this loving encouragement for us to move outside our own comfort zones and boxes, that we can truly thrive.

I talk more about this in the 14 minute video below ::

This essay and video series is in part to share with you the topics we’ll be unearthing, unraveling, and unlearning in the six month circle Becoming Unleashed.  We begin September 22.  If you are interested, you  can learn more and request an application here. xoxo

To read the other essays and view the other videos in this series, click the links below ::

What is “Individuation”?

Release

The Goo as Revolution

Reclamation