Breaking through the noise.

Oh hey- yep, I’m still here.

Crippled, like many, by the current state of the world I have found little to no motivation when it comes to writing or participating in any form of creative outlet altogether. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought to myself, “I really should try to sit down and write.” “I should pull out the watercolors I bought and used once.” “I really should bake sourdough [like the rest of the fucking internet].”

“Should”. What a horribly toxic word.

“Should” immediately devalues any wins or accomplishments. It belittles the work you have done and subconsciously feeds the insecurities that shout, “I’m not good enough”.

I love the internet and I hate the internet. Social media is, as we all know, a breeding ground for comparison. When I’m operating from a conscious state, I tend to absorb content that fuels my soul and inspires me- be it food bloggers and chefs, artists, comedians, whatever. When I’m operating from a vulnerable state like when, say THE WORLD FEELS LIKE IT’S ENDING (had to add the drama), I scroll aimlessly and end up feeling like I’m not enough because I don’t own a matching tie-dye sweat suit and my hall closet still hasn’t been organized.

The internet offers a collective space for all of us. At the beginning of this pandemic there was so much inspiration. There was a genuine sense of togetherness and love and supporting one another and remembering what’s truly important in life. Beautiful poetry and acts of kindness were abundant. Then as the weeks trickled on into months, a lot of people started acting like real assholes.

Suddenly there were memes mocking people for filming their workouts and posting photos of every meal cooked and jokes ragging on people for behaving like influencers. I get it, too much of anything becomes obnoxious. We want it to feel authentic. I hear you, and I agree with the sentiment.

The problem is people projecting their fear and insecurities onto innocent bystanders without any self-awareness. Like, hey, Jackie- maybe before you shit on Donna for posting her workout routine you ask yourself why it bothers you so much? Maybe you’re not feeling so hot mentally or emotionally and a little movement would do your body (and soul) good. Or maybe you’ve been scrolling a little too long and need to put the phone down, go grab a snack and DO YOU. (And yes, my use of Jackie and Donna came from That 70’s Show. IDK.)

Knowing that other’s actions and words are a direct indication of how they feel about themselves shouldn’t excuse their behavior. There has to be a point where we start having conversations and articulate our emotions properly. As a culture we’re so emotionally inept. “I’m good.” “My day was fine.” “So busy!” WTF does any of that mean? That doesn’t tell me anything.

We never learned how to effectively communicate what we feel. And I say we because I am part of the we.

As a little girl (4- or maybe 5-years-old I would guess) I had a tendency to scream. I’m talking blood-curdling, shrill screams. Full blown hysterics, sore throat after it was all said and done sort of thing. I remember one time working myself up to the point of screaming and crying so hard I threw up on my bedroom floor. This was something I had blocked out of my adult mind entirely until it emerged in grief therapy.

At that point in time I was literally screaming for attention. I didn’t have the capacity or the tools to express myself, so little Em got loud. Eventually I was taught that made me dramatic and I needed to tone it down. Problem is, a five-year-old doesn’t know what “tone it down” means. It’s interpreted as “keep quiet and be polite” which translates into the core belief that I’m dramatic and need to suppress what I’m feeling. And so begins the inability to articulate emotions in a healthy and effective manner resulting in a slew of other behaviors.

Everyone has these stories, these beliefs that shape us and drive our actions. I’ve talked about that in my first few posts and also about how grief has offered me the opportunity to dive into all the messy stuff and dig through it.

The entire world is grieving right now and it offers an opportunity to step into the work. I’m not saying you have to jump into therapy but start paying attention to how you’re feeling. Be gentle with yourself. When you notice an emotion greet it with curiosity instead of criticism. “Why am I feeling like this?” versus “I shouldn’t feel this way.”

Fill your feed with whatever brings you joy. Dr. Nicole LePera (@the.holisitic.psychologist) who I’ve referenced before is a wealth of knowledge and does an incredible job of explaining a lot of the inner child work and terminology.

I also l-o-v-e Amber Rae (@heyamberrae):

Likewise, be gentle with others. Back in March I read this article, "That Discomfort You're Feeling is Grief" from the Harvard Business Review that has SO MANY GEMS. Go read the whole piece in its entirety:

“…it’s a good time to stock up on compassion. Everyone will have different levels of fear and grief and it manifests in different ways. A coworker got very snippy with me the other day and I thought, That’s not like this person; that’s how they’re dealing with this. I’m seeing their fear and anxiety. So be patient. Think about who someone usually is and not who they seem to be in this moment.”

Per usual, this post took on a head of its own as I wrote. I sat down knowing nothing more than I felt like writing. I don’t even know what that means or how to explain “felt like”. I just did. And I believe that’s my mom’s spirit working through me.

Mother's Day came and went and it's always the hardest of the holidays. Weeks of advertisements and talks about what to get mom for Mother's Day and I seriously HATE it. Then everyone (no really, like literally everyone) feels the need to post what should go in a private card to their mother on their Facebook or Instagram page (and yes I heed my own advice and avoid social media on that specific day, and no, you should in no way feel bad about sharing your love of your mama). I digress...I suppose the original point was that I've been missing my mom and need to remember this is a special way for me to connect with her. As I'm typing this the clock reads 3:33, Magic Mama's time.

I had hesitated to even attempt any of this because of the mass amount of information and sharing happening in our world right now (thus the crickets). Then I remembered what a fellow writer friend said to me after my first post:

“Just keep writing, ok?”

Ok, A. I’ll keep breaking through the noise.