I am very aware of the spinning right now. As in - we are spinning out of control on these inter-webs we have created. It’s like a haunted house roller coaster - dark and scary, getting whipped and dropped and spun with no sense of an end and lots of screaming.
Stop this ride, I want to get off.
I have a muscle in my upper back that has decided to hold on for dear life. Thankfully, it’s on the right side and not the left, so I’m not wondering whether I am having a heart attack or not.
I notice myself alternating between reaching out to friends via text for a quick check-in and perusing the snack cupboard for something to munch on. These are my coping mechanisms for stress and anxiety.
I am making a commitment to myself to stay off social media this week. I can choose to ingest more news articles and social media posts that get me riled up or fired up or exasperated. Or I can choose to take care of myself in this moment.
Instead of logging in, I am going out. Into the blustery cold, even. Let the wind take some of this angst, clear out my sinuses and the tangled thoughts of overwhelm, woven by anxiety and information-overload. Let the cold air, clear my head and invigorate my lungs.
The wind is whipping outside my window. The still-green leaves on the maple tree look like they, too, are hanging on for dear life. In fact, they are. It feels like a suitable metaphor for these times
Maybe that’s the problem - the hanging on.
What am I hanging on to that I need to let go of? To what am I holding on for dear life?
And in what ways does that clinging no longer serve me?
These are inquiry questions - ones that I need to sit with, ones that I need to let stir inside of me for a while.
Now my job is to find the stillness to do that. And it is not the stillness of sitting in front of a screen.
For me, it is the time of turning inward...because peace of mind is an inside job.
Where do you find yourself grasping or holding on for dear life? What would it look like to simply let go?
Stop this ride, I want to get off.
I have a muscle in my upper back that has decided to hold on for dear life. Thankfully, it’s on the right side and not the left, so I’m not wondering whether I am having a heart attack or not.
I notice myself alternating between reaching out to friends via text for a quick check-in and perusing the snack cupboard for something to munch on. These are my coping mechanisms for stress and anxiety.
I am making a commitment to myself to stay off social media this week. I can choose to ingest more news articles and social media posts that get me riled up or fired up or exasperated. Or I can choose to take care of myself in this moment.
Instead of logging in, I am going out. Into the blustery cold, even. Let the wind take some of this angst, clear out my sinuses and the tangled thoughts of overwhelm, woven by anxiety and information-overload. Let the cold air, clear my head and invigorate my lungs.
The wind is whipping outside my window. The still-green leaves on the maple tree look like they, too, are hanging on for dear life. In fact, they are. It feels like a suitable metaphor for these times
Maybe that’s the problem - the hanging on.
What am I hanging on to that I need to let go of? To what am I holding on for dear life?
And in what ways does that clinging no longer serve me?
These are inquiry questions - ones that I need to sit with, ones that I need to let stir inside of me for a while.
Now my job is to find the stillness to do that. And it is not the stillness of sitting in front of a screen.
For me, it is the time of turning inward...because peace of mind is an inside job.
Where do you find yourself grasping or holding on for dear life? What would it look like to simply let go?
 | Jessica Curtis is a professional life coach who helps people cultivate intention and live from a place of meaning and authenticity. If you think you could benefit from working with Jessica or want to invite her to work with your group, reach out to start a conversation. |
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