Grace Can Be Messy

The two modes of Isabel-on-Vacation: Calm & Happy, and Glassy-eyed & Overstimulated. (You can safely assume I had a gelato in hand at all times, whatever my mood.)

In early April I left on a twelve-day voyage to Italy, where I spent almost every minute in motion: hiking, sight-seeing, listening to audio tours, eating amazing food, talking with my partner, and a thousand other things. It was amazing and stressful and exhausting and expansive.

I returned home six days ago and was immediately smushed into the ground by a feverish cold. Today I am finally beginning to feel like myself again.

This is now how I wanted my return to go. I had plans: gardening, cleaning, aimlessly puttering around my house. I always love getting home from trips, and I had planned to enjoy the shit out of it.

Instead, for six days I was achy, pissy, and mostly asleep. I did not enjoy my return home. It was actually really hard. I missed playing a show with my band, and the triumphant return into the arms of my friends, whom I’d missed a lot, was a low-energy wave from across a porch.

I turned to my usual support tools: gratitude, meditation to move beyond my physical discomfort, eating well to boost my mood. I was able to do these things about 17%, and I was grumpy about it the whole time. “Fuck you, gratitude,” I thought frownily.

It’s been a long time since an illness has plowed me into the ground so hard. Predictably, I tried to willpower my way into being able to garden and putter, and ended up surrendering to sleep anyway.

My main comfort was that things inside my body changed regularly. The snot moved from my chest to my head. My temperature went up, then down, then up again, but then down again also. Each day I felt different, and each night when I went to bed I thought, “Maybe I’ll just wake up tomorrow and be totally better! Maybe!”

Those changes paired with knowing self-delusion was actually the hopeful combo that got me there. Here I am: I woke up this morning, not completely better, but definitely myself in a way I haven’t been in a week.

The metaphor is this: things don’t last, whether good or bad. Life is transitory by nature. When we’re in a really shit moment, we intuitively know what we need to get ourselves through it: for me, it was telling myself I might get better overnight. I knew this was the thing to do because it felt, not placating, but hopeful. In this political moment, it might just be telling ourselves it won’t last forever. Remembering that truth might be what gives us the strength to go to that next organizing meeting, or to attend a protest.

Placating is, however, a trap. “Many countries have had fascist dictators, and continued about their daily life,” I’ll say to myself. Sinking into the plausibility of the harms that are happening is one alternative to letting my rage wear me out.

But my therapist recently reminded me that just because something feels soothing, doesn’t mean it’s the right thing. In fact, when it comes to growth, it’s often the wrong thing: we need to feel more uncomfortable, more anxious, in order to expand our capacities. We just don’t want to wear ourselves out with pushing.

Sometimes I will be all-or-nothing as a way of letting myself get away with what’s easiest - which is nothing. Reading too much news is debilitating? Just don’t read the news. I’m too tired to have the three confrontations I need to have? Don’t have any of them.

These moments eventually lead me into conversation with my own integrity. “But you care about the world, and want to be informed in conversation with friends, so you need to read some news.” “Not having those confrontations means you’re not tending to important relationships, so just start with one and you’ll feel better.”

The key is balance, always. Don’t put the weight of the world on your shoulders. Do take small actions in ways that appeal to you. This is enough. You are enough.

Do this every day, and then slip up for a week. Then get yourself slowly back on track.

Two giant horsetail plants growing out of a crack in a rock at the Elsa River trail in Tuscany.

It’s a skill, to answer to your integrity without letting your self criticism get in the way. “You’re a piece of shit unless you go to the protest” is NOT your integrity, but it likes to masquerade as such.

That discernment is the kind of skill I teach my clients. I help people how to know what really matters to them, and then consistently take action on that, instead of consistently taking action on their anxiety. I support people with the tangible tools to change behaviors and become empowered over a relatively short span of time. Some of those tools are psychological, some are witchy, all are magical and intuitive.

Maybe you’re like me: when I think “have grace,” my mind first fills with images of serene faces in acceptance, maybe humming gently. People who nod sagely as life throws shit at them, then take a nap.

The thing we don’t point out often enough is that grace-needing situations never feel that way. The equation is, Challenge + Grace = Getting Through It. These are not serene moments, they’re moments of hard realizations, frustration, and feeling broken down. So let’s remember the moments that happen RIGHT before acceptance:

Grace can look like yelling into your pillow because you’re so tired of being sick, then taking a deep breath.

Grace can look like overbooking yourself to the point of exhaustion, then realizing it, and cancelling some plans.

Grace can look like getting in a big fight with a loved one, then going back and talking through what happened.

If you’re interested in working with me, I’m interested in working with you! Find out how below.

Village Witch’s Corner

My intention this week : 

See where doing less work actually feels like doing my job better.

Question(s) I'm asking this week:

How do I know I’m good at my work? What reminds me of this and helps me feel it?

What I’m listening to:

I just started listening to Wicked in books on tape. Honestly not sure if I’ll finish it, but let’s give it a shot!

Tiny Spell of the Week:

Self appreciation. Take little moments to remember all the cool things I’ve done.