Oh my goodness that Vogue article. Two ideas literally made me shout “YES” at my laptop as I was reading: 1) that we might not want to have it all, and 2) that making a huge change like a career change does not have to be viewed as a failure.
For me, not wanting to have children, has almost always been met with confusion. I think bigger than peoples’ horror at a woman who does not desire children, is their horror when someone has set limits on their own striving. Someone who says: “I have enough. I have done enough. I have gotten what I can from this experience and it is time to move on.” are a little bit jaw-dropping to people who cannot fathom an existence sans hamster wheel. Instead of congratulating someone for stepping off the wheel, we end up—to bring in the themes of the other piece—feeling disappointed (I would say resentful but that really just means disappointment doesn’t it?). How dare they give up on unhealthy striving when I see no way of giving up on unhealthy striving?! And what do we do sometimes when met with discomfort? We resort to making it a “them” problem: they failed, they gave up, they are weak and unworthy. I think for some people, my decision not to have children makes them painfully aware of all the tasks they have unwittingly accepted as necessary or inevitable, when in fact some of them are optional. I was met with a similar understandable and perplexing perspective from professors in grad school: but we had to sacrifice our mental health to get our degrees, so why shouldn’t you have to sacrifice your mental health to get yours? (Said the people educated up to their eyeballs in systemic oppression…).
People balk at someone who is so aware of the systems they are caught up in that they occasionally opt out of acting from a place of optics and opt in to living. When I left my former career so many co-workers said: I wish I could do what you’re doing. And while there are very real circumstances (financial, familial care obligations, etcetera) that may impact the ease with which someone can make a change, for the most part I wanted to say: Why aren’t you doing what I’m doing? It was easier, in this case kindly, to see me as an exception, someone doing something extraordinary (and therefore unattainable) so that they could go on denying their own disappointment with how their career had turned out. Those with less generous interpretations of behaviour made a similar pivot in the opposite direction: how could you throw away all those hard years of work you put in? (As if any experience is not just simply life experience which will prepare you for, you know, life? Maybe it comes as a by-product from resume writing, but what is our insatiable urge to classify something as work experience rather than just experience period?). Very few people simply said: I am proud of you for making a change that feels right for you. So let it be said to anyone who has made a big and life-affirming change and been met with others’ disappointment (oops I mean disapproval): I am proud of you for making a change that feels right for you. I am proud of you for not wanting it all.
Thank you, Lisa, for the sparks. Hope you don't mind me posting the resulting fire.
Oftentimes I find myself thinking I should be “there.” As if there is an arrival point where I’m completely healed or able to enforce boundaries perfectly or maybe in a near-constant state of peace. I’m thankful for support systems reminding me it’s all practice, and to trust the process.
You must see me on my couch right now, attempting to rest because my body is heavy, all while a raging dialogue unfolds in my head....”You’ll feel like crap if you don’t move. You don’t need to lay here. Get your butt outside.” You nailed it with, “running and simultaneously being at a standstill”.
Tell your husband the poem you sent to “me” when you were “too sick to post” saved me today. I can’t express how much I needed to hear this. Thank you sooooo much for pushing through. Your writing was good medicine for my broken heart.
Hope you feel better soon. Thank you for the reminder to not push, but to put our bodies and needs first. .... "I can stop solving and practice just living." Always need this seemingly gentle, but powerful reminder.
What a timely reminder. I needed to edit a video yesterday but instead I chose my body. I take that as progress. In the past I would have pushed through. Me today thanks the me yesterday as I'm feeling rested and ready to face the week.
Beautiful letter, Lisa. I just finished Pema Chodron's When Things Fall Apart and your poem resonates so well with the sentiments the book brought forth in both heart and mind. I'll be carrying your words with me into this week-- Thank you for sharing, even when ailing, and I hope you start to feel better soon!
Oh my goodness that Vogue article. Two ideas literally made me shout “YES” at my laptop as I was reading: 1) that we might not want to have it all, and 2) that making a huge change like a career change does not have to be viewed as a failure.
For me, not wanting to have children, has almost always been met with confusion. I think bigger than peoples’ horror at a woman who does not desire children, is their horror when someone has set limits on their own striving. Someone who says: “I have enough. I have done enough. I have gotten what I can from this experience and it is time to move on.” are a little bit jaw-dropping to people who cannot fathom an existence sans hamster wheel. Instead of congratulating someone for stepping off the wheel, we end up—to bring in the themes of the other piece—feeling disappointed (I would say resentful but that really just means disappointment doesn’t it?). How dare they give up on unhealthy striving when I see no way of giving up on unhealthy striving?! And what do we do sometimes when met with discomfort? We resort to making it a “them” problem: they failed, they gave up, they are weak and unworthy. I think for some people, my decision not to have children makes them painfully aware of all the tasks they have unwittingly accepted as necessary or inevitable, when in fact some of them are optional. I was met with a similar understandable and perplexing perspective from professors in grad school: but we had to sacrifice our mental health to get our degrees, so why shouldn’t you have to sacrifice your mental health to get yours? (Said the people educated up to their eyeballs in systemic oppression…).
People balk at someone who is so aware of the systems they are caught up in that they occasionally opt out of acting from a place of optics and opt in to living. When I left my former career so many co-workers said: I wish I could do what you’re doing. And while there are very real circumstances (financial, familial care obligations, etcetera) that may impact the ease with which someone can make a change, for the most part I wanted to say: Why aren’t you doing what I’m doing? It was easier, in this case kindly, to see me as an exception, someone doing something extraordinary (and therefore unattainable) so that they could go on denying their own disappointment with how their career had turned out. Those with less generous interpretations of behaviour made a similar pivot in the opposite direction: how could you throw away all those hard years of work you put in? (As if any experience is not just simply life experience which will prepare you for, you know, life? Maybe it comes as a by-product from resume writing, but what is our insatiable urge to classify something as work experience rather than just experience period?). Very few people simply said: I am proud of you for making a change that feels right for you. So let it be said to anyone who has made a big and life-affirming change and been met with others’ disappointment (oops I mean disapproval): I am proud of you for making a change that feels right for you. I am proud of you for not wanting it all.
Thank you, Lisa, for the sparks. Hope you don't mind me posting the resulting fire.
“There is no there.
There is only here.
And here isn’t something to resolve;
it’s something to allow.”
Thank you for that reminder.
Oftentimes I find myself thinking I should be “there.” As if there is an arrival point where I’m completely healed or able to enforce boundaries perfectly or maybe in a near-constant state of peace. I’m thankful for support systems reminding me it’s all practice, and to trust the process.
Feel better soon!
You must see me on my couch right now, attempting to rest because my body is heavy, all while a raging dialogue unfolds in my head....”You’ll feel like crap if you don’t move. You don’t need to lay here. Get your butt outside.” You nailed it with, “running and simultaneously being at a standstill”.
Ahh the curse of thinkers and creatives. Rest up.
Thank you for not only talking about self care, but modeling it too.
Your poem is a balm for the soul.
Our inconvenient needs. Yes those. You are a true word master to drill it down that way!
Sending you loving, healing vibes to get well soon and thank you for this awesome message!
I’m teaching a class about our personal energy, how much gas is in our tank, and will remind the students that sometimes we just need to lay down!
Your poem is astounding, so amazing there just aren’t enough words. Thank you for writing and sharing it.
I hope you feel better soon, Lisa! I am glad that you practiced honoring your need for rest. <3
“There is only Here” ❤️🔥 wonderful post. may the rest you get today and ever onwards be more than enough to nourish your soul. Thank you!
Tell your husband the poem you sent to “me” when you were “too sick to post” saved me today. I can’t express how much I needed to hear this. Thank you sooooo much for pushing through. Your writing was good medicine for my broken heart.
Hope you feel better soon. Thank you for the reminder to not push, but to put our bodies and needs first. .... "I can stop solving and practice just living." Always need this seemingly gentle, but powerful reminder.
What a poem! Thank you 🤎
What a timely reminder. I needed to edit a video yesterday but instead I chose my body. I take that as progress. In the past I would have pushed through. Me today thanks the me yesterday as I'm feeling rested and ready to face the week.
get well soon 🌿🤍
Beautiful letter, Lisa. I just finished Pema Chodron's When Things Fall Apart and your poem resonates so well with the sentiments the book brought forth in both heart and mind. I'll be carrying your words with me into this week-- Thank you for sharing, even when ailing, and I hope you start to feel better soon!
I hope you feel better soon!
Thank you so much for that poem you shared. I totally needed it with the headspace I’ve been having. Such a great reminder :) thanks again
Get well soon 🌸🌸🌸🌸