Being the Best Version of Myself

I've been meditating daily, pretty much since April 2020, when we were in the first lockdown. I appreciated the time and space I had to go deeper into my spiritual practice; it was a life-changing practice. It transformed me, and prepared me for life events that I might not have managed so well otherwise.

Almost a year later, when I was back in school, I learned mindfulness meditation. I took to that like a sponge in water. I picked it up really fast, because I was practicing my own hodgepodge methods the year leading up to that more organized approach, so there was something for its concepts to stick to. 

But what I noticed in my class, as the instructor guided us to our breath, was that my breathing was very shallow. That didn't really bother me, as one of the tenants of mindfulness meditation is non-striving. Therefore I was able to fully embrace my meditation, and just be with my shallow breath, knowing I was on the right track. 

I've never use any apps, but earlier this month when I was searching for a loving kindness meditation, I discovered Meditation Space on Spotify. I always liked their Head Space ads, but didn't want to purchase the app. I was thrilled to discover this free service of daily 10 minute meditations, and I have put my personal 15-20 minute meditations aside to enjoy these ones with a beginner's mind (another tenant of mindfulness).

The other day, when we were guided to our breath, I noticed how long and deep my breathing was again. I realized that I was in incredible stress the months leading up to my father's death, to the point it cut my breath off. I knew I was in a negative space, and I took the actions I could at the time for self-care, but now I understand more clearly how mental stress can affect us physically. 

I love mindfulness. While it doesn't offer an escape from my problems, when practicing it, it takes away all of my fears and worries. That gives me the space and therefore the capacity to come up with solutions to my problems. It is a incredible tool. 

When someone appears to be unconscious, we check for their breath. Today I understand this to be more than a worldly life-force which signifies we are alive on earth. In the Hebrew bible, breath translates as the spirit of God. When I am connected to my breath, I am connected to God, because I am living in the moment, which is what Jesus instructed us to do. I am conscious of my ability to be soothed and to heal. 

Without meditation in my life, I am not sure I would be able to accept myself as I am, or my circumstances as they are. I am grateful that the people around me led me to this practice, so that with the power granted to me through it, I can continue to show up as the best version of myself. 

"Enchanted Garden", Rassouli Art Studio

Just Be

I've felt compelled to write. I have been so overwhelmed by current events around the pandemic, that I have felt my calling as an artist to come forth. I really thought I was done with this blog. I have been focusing more on my new website, blackwell.health, but as I have discovered through my vain attempts to have a brand on Instagram, I don't want to be a coach. At least I don't want to fish for clients online. My time being brilliant on social media was an incredibly unsatisfying and anticlimactic experience, and I just want to get back to musing on God and on where I relate to this conception of a Higher Power.

I am also coming out the other side of desperately grieving my father's untimely death. That knocked the wind out of me. That took all of my passion, zest, and curiosity. I was in survival mode for several months straight, but a big part of that was living outside of my means, trying to stay in the house we shared, which I couldn't afford. Now that I have been blessed to make new arrangements, which freedom through recovery and lessons in humility have granted me, I have space again. I can create again.

Things are very different now. My heart is still broken, but I can experience God moving those parts around, reformatting them to make a new heart. That's exciting to me, because I think it's an improved, more courageous, more caring, more giving one. I wish it wasn't ripped out through such a traumatic experience, I miss my dad all the time, but I am grateful for this second chance at life. A life that's connection, that's compassionate, that truly, maybe for the first time, can freely love, and accept love too. Love that is possible only through being an imperfect human being.

Because I can no longer pretend things are okay when they're not, I can't pretend to be a guru when I can't manage my own life, like when I'm talking about being cured from my alcoholism, but have unmanageable debt that I'm ashamed of. Nor can I hope to be a confident coach online when I have finally understood that I have social anxiety, which for some reason my best friend knew all along, but which is news to me. But irregardless of my mental hangups, I just don't enjoy being someone with all the answers. I have unfollowed almost all the "coaches" I was following, and I instead follow my heart. What makes it feel lighter and brighter? That's where you'll find me. It's in the middle now, where the people are.

Today I want to have friends, not admirers; co-learners, not students; a humble life, not a fake one that I can't physically, mentally, or spiritually support. The Dalai Lama said that happiness is the highest form of health. I am not sure I feel as much truth or relief resonate through me as when I reflect on that quote. I have been on a quest to get healthy for the past 15 years, and the missing component was honesty. 

I now understand why I wasn't honest. The level of falsity was so deep, I didn't even recognize it until a little more than a year ago, after nearly 7 years of sobriety. It's a survival mechanism that my twisted, anxious, fearful mind told me I needed so that I won't be attacked. But the only person doing the assaulting was me and my own behaviour.

It's a long trudge, getting to the bottom of my patterns, but there is always alleviation upon discovery, and with that, empowerment. It's good to be back. It's good to write. It's good to feel the fire once again, though it's a small flame, and seems at times that it can easily go out. That's okay, because now I know if it does go out again, it will spark once more. Because life is about ebbs and flows, ecstasy and mundanity, reflection and action, work and rest. I know how to ride the waves today, I know how to work hard, and how to practice self-care, in turn. I know how to just be. That, for me today, is the pinnacle of my recovery. 

Treating the Alcoholic with Compassion

After writing my passion paper that was worth 40% of my final grade, and sharing it as an invitation for people who qualify as Al-Anon members to view the disease of alcoholism with compassion, I discovered the tension that some people might have to this concept of openly loving someone who is slowly destroying themselves (and hurting others while they do it).

Sadly, this world is not very confident in what compassion looks like, but I had to learn the hard way what it actually is, and how to exhibit it. Compassion is not the same as submission. Compassion is not the same as weakness, or having no boundaries, or having low self-esteem. No, it is the opposite. 

Compassion is being strong when feeling completely beaten down by darkness. It's giving, by caring about what the other person is experiencing, more than what one's own desires or discomforts are. It's looking for a solution when the world has long given up. It's understanding that things are not as they seem on the surface, and that someone who is hurting themselves is in their most basic form, very hurt. Compassion is strength. It's holding space and sharing, even when we don't want to. 

For a few months, I stopped understanding alcoholism as a disease, and I rejected that model. I believed that it was a great step forward that gave alcoholics a way to receive help, instead of being locked away mercilessly and in some cases cruelly, but I also thought it was time to evolve this model to include trauma. What I didn't take into account is, trauma can be healed, but the recovered alcoholic cannot ever safely pick up another drink. I therefore had to concede, once again, that alcoholism is an illness that goes into remission, at best.

I empathize that people who have been hurt by a loved one's drinking might think that they were the good ones, or the innocent bystanders, but when honestly looking at the whole picture, we generally don't treat alcoholics well. It's normal to respond to problem drinkers without compassion, and it's a way of life to not have the space to process the confusing challenges that disease, such as alcoholism, presents to us. 

Enabling or people-pleasing are not the same as compassion, though they can become problematic character traits that arise from the traumatizing circumstances of living in an alcoholic home. Enabling or people-pleasing is doing something to get something, whether it's a feeling or an action, or it can be to avoid something such as an argument. Those traits are sicknesses in and of themselves, rooted in dishonesty, that drive the person acting out in them further into dis-ease. 

Compassion, on the other hand, is action out of genuine concern for someone else. An act of compassion can be as simple as saying hello and acknowledging someone, and then walking away. An act of compassion has boundaries, and it is not self-sacrificing. Compassion does not deplete us or leave us with character traits that need to be healed - it is a protected strength that comes from the understanding that all people are equal, and some are in insurmountable pain. Compassion thinks ahead - it sees the frailty of human life, and the suffering of the afflicted. A person who can act in compassion can put a moment of discomfort aside, to get to the truth of the matter. Compassion is the principle behind holding space, which becomes a safe place for all people to recover.

Finn on Unsplash

Learning New Ways to Heal From Trauma

I’ve been working to understand more about trauma, and in this I am coming to realize that I have been possibly misunderstanding mental illness. When my father died of an alcohol related illness, most notably through his heart, but also most likely through liver and brain degradation as well, I blamed his drinking. I understood alcoholism as a disease, and I believed that he made bad choices continually until he passed a point of no return, where he became too sick to help himself.

But after his passing, I discovered things about him that fully surprised me. I began to connect the dots to his seemingly bizarre decisions, and through some findings, as well as my own contemplation and studies, I am not sure I can continue to accept his life as having been diseased. I think rather, his life was lived according to pain mitigation.

And isn’t that what we seem to often do, either going toward or away from pleasure or pain? The religious have devoted their lives and theology to understanding this phenomenon. The Buddhists call it the problem of attachment, and the Christians call it an unhealthy love for the world (or flesh); I have spent over a decade finding solace in these two systems. But after my tragedy, I now look to science as well, because I feel desperate to understand my history.

That said, the science of trauma is new, and so we don’t fully understand why some of us get addicted, or become disproportionately violent, lustful, or greedy. The disease model ties these negative patterns into selfishness, but I realize now that simply undermines trauma, which everyone to some extent has. I realize today that writing off bad behaviour as selfishness does not facilitate healing.

We do not yet know how to work with this sort of pain, and therefore we do not have a comprehensive view of how to mitigate it. What ends up happening is a fast downward spiral that is riddled in confusion and misunderstandings, and can lead to death itself. We do not seem to have the tools yet for the sufferer or their loved ones to properly navigate it. My work today involves finding ways to heal from trauma, which for the most part involves treatment rooted in Nonviolent Communication.

In the final analysis, we just want to be seen and heard. This I believe is the surest way to heal from trauma. If we can honestly look back through our histories during a situation that ended badly, and imagine having been given the space and empathy to have been understood, we probably could have averted a lot of chaos and heartache.

Therefore, I take great comfort in knowing that the solution is not as abstract as it might currently seem, and it can be put to use at any time. I think about my dad’s life, and I wonder what could have or would have happened if I practiced nonviolent communication with him. But I do not let my mind slip into remorse, because I didn’t know this structure at the time. I simply go about my remaining time on earth doing my best to maintain the space and empathy needed to practice this form on whoever might need it. I find a blessing in my curse, and am excited to contribute to this new field of trauma therapy.

Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Unsplash

Christian Challenges

As I wrap up my long weekend, I feel relief as the heat wave passes, and I achieve a comfortable temperature. A beautiful breeze blows through the windows, and in all of this glory, I've been wanting to indulge in this good feeling, and entertain some feel-good thoughts of what a beautiful world it is.

So when my daily Bible reading was particularly upsetting, with a story from Samuel 2 that greatly disturbed me, I was tempted to just close the book for good. But I pressed on, and this is because while I am given these moments of relief, and dare I say bliss, life in and of itself is riddled with scarcity, violence, and heartache.

I do not find it acceptable to defy my Christian beliefs, which requests of me to read my Bible in its entirety and which in turn permits me to stand strong in the face of disbelief or incredible heresy, by rejecting the harsh truth of where it came from – an ancient world so devastating at times, that I would rather pretend it isn’t a part of my cultural history. But I have come to understand that a huge chunk of a life well-lived is spent in preparation. Preparation for the droughts, the wars, and the apathy.

Sacrificing theology on the altar of “feeling good”, which I understand today as idolatry and which paradoxically therefore separates me from God,  is something I reject today. I have gone through the fire and stood before the naysayers enough times now to know that it’s not just about knowing a few of Jesus’ more famous quotes (and then taking them out of context only to frustrate his true message of repentance), but it’s about knowing the history of those quotes.

It’s terribly frustrating to witness the mangling of the gospel to the point that it’s a whole new belief system, but at the same time, the joy of the evangelical is to speak the words of God, without even intending to, simply because “a lie can travel halfway around the world before truth gets its shoes on”. This is the stupidity of the devil: he doesn’t understand the human heart, and that when transformed by God through the grace of regeneration, it is brilliant and fearless.

Photo by Josh Applegate on Unsplash

The Challenges of Being a Coach

One of the definitions of being a coach is to help a person take actions which support their wellbeing, every single day. I didn’t realize that I also need to take actions that support my motivation to coach, every single day as well.

We live in a world where our idea of health is backwards. We talk about smoking cessation, but really have just made it unacceptable to smoke indoors; we talk about weight loss, when really the issue is changing poor nutrition habits. Ultimately, we do not address the issues at hand, we just side-step them.

I know there is a better way to be healthy, a way where we are empowered from the inside, but I also now know with an ache in my heart that I am at the forefront of a movement that is counter-industry. A movement that rejects the status quo of substandard remedies. Where “less sick” is acceptable, instead of enjoying full recovery and freedom in health.

There is a veil over our eyes, blinding us to the fact that we are autonomous over our own minds and bodies, and that health is an internal renewable resource. Because of our culture’s archaic system of lack, we look outside of ourselves to feel better, oftentimes being guided further into this scarcity narrative.

As with any behaviour change, remaining motivated in my industry requires patience, and constant check-ins with a trusted source. As I walk along a path in wellness that is only beginning to unfold collectively, it can seem like a daunting task. Changing a habit, or changing an entire industry, requires faith and confidence. It’s important for me to remain connected to my purpose, my “why”.

It is exciting to be on the leading edge of change. I would rather go through the challenges of helping people transform the way they think about their health, and experience the setbacks of going against the grain, than to simply be a follower and accept “less sick” as a sufficient way of life.

Being able to hold space, and to help my clients come to an understanding of the power buried deep within them, is the joy of coaching. It is worth the moments of societal pushback and uncertainty of whether our structure will ever change, to continue my mission to help people heal and thrive.

Image by congerdesign from Pixabay

Healing From Trauma

"Tormented by thirst, they continued to argue with Moses. 'Why did you bring us out of Egypt? Are you trying to kill us, our children, and our livestock with thirst?' Then Moses cried out to the Lord, 'What should I do with these people? They are ready to stone me!'” Exodus 17.3

I started reading the Bible following the Lectio Divina practice, which is a very mindful way of reading scripture. Instead of my usual One Year Bible that I've treated like a study the past year, I am now reading piecemeal, using the formula of reading a shorter passage, meditating on it, praying on it, and then contemplating it. Having this extra time to really think about the passage allowed my mind to examine it in a deeper way, and what I read today reminded me of the tricky problem of trauma.

I have a lot of trauma. It’s generational, and it killed my dad. As a result, I’ve dedicated my current studies to understanding it, and learning how to respond to crises. I've chipped away at the shame which keeps trauma in the dark, festering like an infected wound. So when I read this passage today, I noticed two things: 1) The translation added the word "tormented", which I appreciated, because it caused me to take notice, and 2) In my Life Recovery Bible, the footnote for that section really wrote-off the pain that the Israelites were facing which drove them to battle against Moses. 

The thirst that the Israelites felt that lured them to defy God and Moses was looked upon as as a moment of weakness brought about by a temporary discomfort, but today I understand that trauma causes a phenomenon where the person is unable to think reasonably. Science is also beginning to support this by showing that episodes of trauma disrupts connectivity in the prefrontal cortex, which is the part of the brain that facilitates complex cognitive behaviour, personality expression, decision making, and moderates social behaviour.

What I have noticed since I have begun my journey to understand this type of distress is that it's largely misunderstood. I have heard people's trauma be dismissed by calling the person or their actions lazy, self-seeking, or crazy, amongst other fault-finding adjectives that steal our dignity. But I am finding in all of these circumstances, the person is coming from a place of incredible pain that causes actions that seem peculiar or offensive. 

I have found that the best way to manage trauma is to allow for space. This space permits the processing of the emotions that can get short circuited during times of stress. When I think back to the times I or someone I cared about acted strangely, it was because the space was not there to invite understanding and compassion - traits needed to begin the healing process. This is why my recovery today is contingent on having the space to allow love to flow, so that I can give myself or others the attention and respect needed to begin the healing process.

The ability to give space which supports the traits that bring about growth can seem like a contradiction, because in order to have space there requires a mindset of having enough to give, and it's the scarcity principle, which, for example the Israelites experienced, that often shows up when space is needed the most. I have discovered that true healing begins once we abandon the not-enough, victim mentality that keeps us grasping at straws. From there we can begin to give ourselves, and then others, the space to heal from generational trauma. 

Image by Dennis Gries from Pixabay