The Stories in My Head
“I write entirely to find out what I’m thinking, what I’m looking at, what I see and what it means. What I want and what I fear.”
I spend a lot of my time living in my head. Sometimes I do this in silence, other times I speak aloud – in the shower, out walking or just during regular day-to-day activities. Speaking to myself has become a habit, a part of who I am. These last few weeks, the awkward glances usually thrown my way have disappeared. I think most people, when they hear me talking to myself, just assume that I have no one to talk to in these days of self-isolating. My husband, who has lived with this idiosyncrasy for so many years, will ask now and again who I was on the phone with. And he still apologizes when he comes to kiss me goodbye while I’m showering, not because he is interrupting my hot shower but because I am usually deep in conversation with myself.
I also write in my head. I think I should carry a tape recorder on my daily walks as I speak aloud the most amazing sentences. In fact, when I actually sit down to write my weekly blog post on Friday or Saturday, the post has already been percolating for a few days.
It has taken me a while to get comfortable with this approach. In my first month of blogging, I had a plan, a list of themes, and a schedule of Facebook and Instagram posts. I was so prepared. That’s now flown out the window! I have finally admitted to myself that I am a last-minute person. I thrive creatively when facing a deadline. But I am also prepared, I’ve spent a lot of time preparing in my head. This approach has caused me no end of agony. One, I’m actually not spending a lot of time writing and I wonder to myself, does thinking count as writing? Two, it causes a lot of stress because every week I worry that I may not be able to meet my self-imposed deadline. Yet every week I rise to the task.
However, not this week, this week I am not prepared, in my head or on paper. I think it speaks to the lack of focus that I wrote about last week. I have a long list of topics I want to write about one day, and several other ideas surfaced this week – but nothing stuck. I woke up this morning worried that my head wasn’t wrapped around a theme. I got up, took the dog for a long walk along the river, had breakfast with my husband who is working from home today, and then plunked myself down at my desk. That was 6 hours ago. I’m still sitting here – starting to panic because I am looking at a blank page.
Now, I know many of you are also experiencing similar feelings. I’ve spoken to friends this week who feel like they’re shutting down, can’t focus on the simplest of tasks, or are simply beginning to climb the walls! I know you understand and, if I told you I was going to take a break from writing this week, then that would be fine with you - although I do hope at least a couple of you would think, oh, I’ll really miss her blog post this week! And I’m worried that if I let one blog post slip by, then it will be easier to let another slip by next week. I am very aware that I am great at starting projects but not always as successful at seeing things through to the end.
I went back to the themes that have been simmering in my mind, and I now understand why I may not have delved too deep into any of them this week. They are gloomy. These days I am unwilling to dwell in darkness. However, they are themes I want to explore one day – when light returns. Let me share them with you.
Foreboding joy
I remember looking at my babies sleeping in their cribs and my heart would fill with an all-consuming joy. Then I would think of crib death and toxic cleaning products and all the other things that could harm them, and I would be consumed with fear. Afraid I was feeling joy too intensely, I began dress-rehearsing tragedy. Brene Brown calls this foreboding joy. She says joy is the most vulnerable emotion we experience. I rarely experience foreboding joy lately but these last few weeks I have had moments when I feel like I need to counter-balance intense joy with worry and fear. I wonder how many of you have felt the same?
Pandemic privilege
My husband and I are not suffering during this pandemic - our family is healthy, we can put food on the table, we pay our bills on time and we can even afford a drink or two most days. We have a comfortable home that lends itself to self-isolating and we are closely connected – although virtually - to family and friends. And yet I am anxious about our future. A psychologist shared that “the psychological impact of the pandemic cuts deep into the core of middle-class anxieties.” For many lower-income families, the pandemic is not a break from normalcy. But for many of us who are used to living a life of privilege, this is a new reality.
Consciously managing my mental health
I need to be very intentional about ensuring I take care of myself. I need fresh air and long walks, conversations with people who matter to me, and yoga and time for reflection to keep myself sane. Elizabeth Gilbert wrote in a recent Facebook post, “…managing my mental health is very nearly a full-time job. I don’t take it lightly, because the stakes are high. Like many of us, I have a mind that is a very dangerous neighborhood. Left unattended, my mind will fester, rot, and roll me over the brink into anxiety and depression”. I get that!
Listening to my body
I am really trying to listen to my body these days. I thought this would be comforting. I imagined afternoon naps when I felt sleepy, bubble baths to soothe aching muscles, and indulging in chocolate when my body called for comfort. But no, these are not the messages my body has been sending me. Instead, I realized that “ …the clench in my throat, the knot in my gut, and the tightness in my breath - is how my body is trying to hold the world’s anguish”. (Paraphrased from An Anarchist Quaker’s Prayer to Soothe Anxiety by Ayu Sutriasa). I need to better understand how I hold stress in my body.
It’s now Sunday and I am about to post this to my blog. I was standing in the kitchen earlier this morning, making coffee and yes, talking to myself - again! I looked out the window as I waited for the water to boil. Our chickadee has come back to nest and I said to myself, I am so delighted that we’ll have more fledglings! I told the yellow-rumped warbler sitting in the tree, a new bird in our neighbourhood, how much I appreciated his song. And finally, balancing my computer and two coffees as I headed back to bed I said aloud, I think I know what I want to write about next week! And so the writing in my head begins again.