The Broken Treadmill

In early March, I had a conversation with Dr. Anna. I told her about this great book, The  Atomic Habit, by James Clear, and about the wonderful habits I now had in place. Me, the person who never does the same thing at the same time more than twice. I told her how I got up, made breakfast, unloaded the dishwasher while I made my coffee, read my daily Bible reading while I ate breakfast, then put my shoes on to walk on the treadmill. Habit-stacking at its best! And, I worked on my book every night at 10:30, after I made my Harney and Sons Hot Cinnamon Sunset tea (my cue to write). I had begun to enjoy the order these habits brought to my life and the feeling of accomplishment.

But, I soon learned a life of habits does not guarantee happiness. I had a sinus infection with a cough for several weeks, so I didn't walk on the treadmill while I was sick. Finally, I felt better and decided it was time to get back into my routine. I made my breakfast, unloaded the dishwasher, read the Bible, laced up my walking shoes and stepped onto the treadmill. When I turned it on it beeped in a way it hadn't before and then nothing. The belt didn't move. I turned it off and on, unplugged it and plugged it back in, I even removed the cover and cleaned around the motor. John worked on it, too. Still nothing.

It snowed. It rained. The wind blew. Typical March in Colorado. I am a fair weather walker. The days went by and I found myself getting more and more depressed. My knee started hurting.

I even begged God to miraculously resurrect my treadmill. I turned it on. Nothing.

Colorado was now under the Stay-At-Home order for the Corona Virus. I couldn't take the treadmill somewhere to be worked on or go out and buy a new one. I thought about ordering one online.

Throughout the days my mind kept repeating one question. Why? Why did the treadmill quit now, of all times? I'd been sick, we'd had tragic losses in our family, March is a time when I struggle with depression with its dreary weather, and now we had the fear of the Corona Virus and isolation with the Stay-At-Home order. It also seemed as though all of my self-care routines that worked well for me were taken from me. I'd had to cut back my Vitamin D because my levels were too high when I had my physical. I can definitely tell a difference in my moods when I don't have enough Vitamin D. 

Finally, one morning it hit me. I had to accept that the treadmill was not going to run again. I had to stop questioning why this was happening to me. Stop my mind from running through the whys, the blame, and the self-pity. Thinking about it was getting me nowhere. Well, that's not true. It was taking me on a one-way trip to depression. 

So, I accepted it. Accepted the reality that the treadmill was broke. 

"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change."

It is funny how acceptance opens the way for new things to come in. I started doing some exercises. Danced around the living room one day. Picked up my hula-hoop and hooped to some good music. I walked outside in the wind and the cold on the first sunny day. And I enjoyed it. I am still more of a fair weather walker, but I will get out even for a short walk on dreary days.

I am back in the habit of my morning routine finishing with a walk outside, but not quite as fanatically as I was before. Routine is good, but not when it becomes an idol. I saw this connection when I looked back at this post from 2018 - The Idol of Perfection

The Idol of Perfection

The Warren Gresham Family at the Elbert Christian Church 100th Anniversary in August 2016

Last night four generations of the Gresham family prayed for unity in our families at the National Day of Prayer event in Kiowa. The event was an awesome time of prayer. We were so honored  to be invited. And I am so blessed to be a part of this family, to sit together on Sundays with my in-laws, children, nephews, and grandchildren in the same church where previous generations worshiped together, too.

When it was my turn to pray, I prayed for the wives, mothers, grandmothers and daughters to break down the idol of perfectionism. That is how I've come to see it - an idol. If I can be the perfect wife, mother, grandmother, daughter or Christian, then I am doing what God wants. And, if not, then I have failed. Even when I am falling short of perfection or not even trying because I can't do it perfectly, the idol still stands before me.

Somewhere along the way I got mixed up about God's love, thinking he loves me best when I am perfect. And he loves me less when I am not. 

Somewhere along the way I thought I could be perfect if I just worked a little harder, wasn't so lazy, could be a better wife or mother, and was a better housekeeper. My idol of perfection stood before me. When I read the Bible, I only saw how I would be perfect if I did all of these things. And, since I didn't do them all, I wasn't perfect. Pretty soon I stopped reading the Bible.

And I know I am not the only one. In 2012, the Barna Research Group reported that 50% of women stated that "disorganization" is their greatest struggle followed by 42% listing "inefficiency." That tells me that many women idolize perfection. And worshiping before this idol does not make the family stronger, it tears away at it piece by piece.

The thing about having an idol before God is it doesn't make you better, it only keeps you from God.

My clinical depression (which I viewed as a journey with God) and three years of therapy helped me to understand perfectionism. And perfectionism isn't about doing everything well. Brene Brown defines perfectionism (in part) as "Perfectionism is a self-destructive and addictive belief system that fuels this primary thought: If I look perfect, live perfectly, and do everything perfectly, I can avoid or minimize the painful feelings of shame, judgement, and blame."  (From The Gifts of Imperfection, p. 57)

What I know today is only the blood of Christ makes me perfect. There is nothing I can do to be perfect or live perfectly. And when I try to live in this way, then I am making Jesus' sacrifice out to be meaningless. It is as if the Law of the Old Testament is in effect today. What better idol could the enemy put before us to separate us from God?

My perfectionism is overcome by God's love and grace and learning to Love Myself and give myself grace and compassion. I seek God and spend time with him in silence. In silence, I am not trying to control anything through prayer, just listening to him, trusting him, and knowing him. When silence is part of my day, I move forward from a centered place, a place where I know I am loved and cherished by God.

I trust God and talk to him throughout my day. I ask him to Order My Day. I live in the moments, rather than being overwhelmed and escaping in a book or being perfect and controlling everything. 

Will you join me in praying for women to break down the idol of perfection? Will you offer grace and compassion with loads of encouragement to the women in your life? Will you reach out to the mother who is hanging on by a thread as her toddler has a meltdown in the grocery store? Will you stop your judgmental thoughts and words when someone isn't doing something just the way you would? 

Wouldn't we all be better off if we look at others and think, "She is doing the best she can." And don't forget to apply that to yourself, too.

When It Is Time To End Therapy

Three years ago, I started a journey—a journey through depression and anxiety. Like any journey, it has a beginning and an end. Well, maybe they are important way-points rather than a beginning and an end because the journey started many years ago and will continue for the rest of my life.

My journey to healing and life started with awareness. “Gayle, are you depressed?” my friend, Victoria, asked. I answered, “Yes, maybe I am,” after I thought about describing my day to her which included trying to decide whether to go to the grocery store or not.

The awareness of depression prompted me to seek counseling. I realized I was living in a box and I didn’t know how to escape it. My world had shrunken to my home and my family. I felt alone, ostracized and hurting. I knew that if I didn’t get help, I was on my way to becoming agoraphobic and never leave home.

I began seeing Dr. Anna and she gave me the tools I needed to move forward. She taught me how to deal with the depressive and anxious thoughts in my head and so much more. I am so thankful for Dr. Anna and her work as a therapist.

Over the past three years, I have:

·         Overcome a phobia of driving across bridges

·         Let go of perfectionism

·         Turned off the “you should, you need to” taskmaster in my head

·         Learned to give myself grace and compassion

·         Received the love of God, who loves me just because he loves me

·         Learned that life is uncertain and sometimes all we can do is accept it

·         Learned to say, “I trust you, Lord,” instead of trying to control

·         Connected authentically to my family and friends

·         Connected with people who have different backgrounds and beliefs than me

·         Embraced this crazy thing we call life

Today, at the end of the counseling session, Dr. Anna pulled out her phone and asked when I wanted to set the appointment for next month. I said, “I don’t think I want an appointment next month. I think I am ready.” She smiled and said, “That is the goal of therapy.”

I know I can call for an appointment any time and I probably will during the winter months. But, I also think I have the skills to cope with life’s ups and downs and my Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD). I also have a great support system with friends and family. And I know how important is to keep connections and communication open.

I appreciate all of your support through this journey. Your stories have encouraged me. I will continue this blog, sharing things I’ve learned and what works for me in this life Beneath A Dappled Sky.

Re-discovering Creativity

I spent last weekend in Santa Fe for the Women Writing the West Conference. I looked forward to connecting with old friends, meeting new friends, and being inspired to write again. What I didn’t expect was to re-discover my creativity.

The first speaker on Friday was Julia Cameron, author of The Artist’s Way. Julia and her book were completely new to me. This is the 25^th anniversary of the first printing of The Artist’s Way. She explained “Morning Pages” – basically, writing three pages first thing in the morning of whatever comes to mind. (I finally understand what all of my writer friends are doing when they mention morning pages on Facebook!) I bought The Artist’s Way and began my own journey of morning pages this week.

Through reading the book and writing morning pages, the first thing I’ve learned is how I have shut down my creativity. Perfectionism and all-or-nothing thinking have boxed me in. My realization – Wow! I have really closed myself off to the things that matter most to me.

When I decided to write “The Book,” the project I am ten years into now, I made it my focus. I heeded the advice of other writers: write every day; get up and write first thing in the morning; keep your focus “You don’t have time for that.”

I let go of things in order to write. I started writing the book as nonfiction, changed it to creative nonfiction at the suggestion of an editor, and finally ended up at historical fiction. Historical fiction feels right. It is what I love to read. But I had never written fiction. So, I had some learning to do. I created a story arc. Other events in my life affected me and I became depressed. The pressure I put on myself for the book to be perfect began to get me and I became blocked.

Therapy helped not only my depression and anxiety, but with writing my book. In fact, that is the reason I am still seeing my therapist once a month. I am not there yet, but I know it is within reach now; especially after last weekend.

Julia Cameron writes about filling the artistic well. And I know that is where I got of track. I kept letting go of creative things I love doing because “You don’t have time for that.”

To fill the well, Julia Cameron suggests an artist’s date once a week. The first one she mentions is going to the dollar store and buying silly creative things. So, today I went to Walmart thinking I would buy a coloring book and colored pencils. I know adult coloring is the rage, but it feels silly to me. And, I know I can’t do it perfectly. Oh, just the right thing to open myself to creativity.

After finding the coloring book and pencils, I walked down the sewing aisle.

And there, on the bottom shelf, lay the most beautiful skein of royal purple yarn. 

I learned to knit when I was a child in 4-H. My mom taught me at first, later I rode the bus after school to go to my best friend’s house. After eating a peanut butter and honey sandwich, Donna and I sat knitting while listening to Waylon Jennings and other country music playing on the radio. Donna’s mother helped us when we made mistakes.

I enjoyed knitting and eventually received a grand champion ribbon for a vest I knit. I taught knitting to some younger girls in 4-H, too.

 I continued knitting off and on through the years, but half-finished projects started to wear on me. Finally, after making a mistake on a baby blanket for a friend and never finishing it, I gave up knitting twenty years ago.

Until the skein of royal purple yarn called to me. My mind flashed back to knitting with Donna, teaching others to knit and knitting during blizzards. I picked it up and caressed the soft yarn and knew I wanted to knit again. Maybe a scarf? I found knitting needles and rushed to the checkout with a smile.

At home, I found a pattern for a scarf on the Internet. It took a couple of times to get it started right. The first time I added an extra stitch and ripped it out to start over. But soon my fingers flew into knitting as though they had never stopped.  

Creativity, texture, color, memories, connection. Ahhh.

Why Can't I Read The Bible?

A couple of years ago, I was visiting with an elder at church and confessed something I hadn’t told anyone: “I can’t read the Bible, not daily or even sometimes. When I read the Bible, I feel terrible. I can’t measure up to what I should be doing or who I should be as a Christian.”

“Really?” Jerry asked. “When I read the Bible I feel challenged. Challenged to do better or be better. Not judged or condemned.”

Jerry’s words stayed with me – challenged, not condemned. But I wasn’t sure how to move from feeling condemned to feeling challenged.

Now I can look back and see that depression, perfectionism and self-criticism made me feel condemned with a lot of help from the enemy. What better way to keep Christians from spreading the gospel?

Going through therapy and reading Brené Brown’s books helped immensely. Brené Brown helped me understand the difference between guilt and shame; something we don’t talk enough about in Christian circles, or any circles.

According to Brown, the major difference between guilt and shame is “guilt = I did something bad” and “shame = I am bad.” Guilt has the power to move a person to right action in line with their values while shame makes a person feel unworthy and worthless. I felt shame (not good enough, not perfect enough) when I read the Bible. I could never measure up, therefore, what was the point in reading it?

When shame becomes our default feeling, I believe depression sets in. In order to change, I had to recognize when I feel guilt and when I feel shame. That’s pretty hard when you move from guilt to shame in .5 seconds.

But I am learning that even when I am in shame, I can stop and look back at what put me into that feeling. If it is something I did or thought, I can see if it lines up with my values - my desire to be authentic, to have integrity and to live in real faith. If I can take a step back from shame, I can let guilt help me take responsibility, be accountable for my actions or my thoughts. Then I can take action.

When I struggle with shame, I am learning to practice what Brené Brown calls shame-resilience. Brown says, “Shame derives its power from being unspeakable… If we speak shame, it begins to wither. Just the way exposure to the light was deadly to the gremlins (the movie), language and story bring light to shame and destroy it.” (Daring Greatly, p. 67)

Speaking to Jerry about the shame I felt when I read the Bible brought light to my shame. Christ’s light. He offered a different way to look at my shame – challenging instead of condemning. That is shame-resilience. I also practiced shame-resilience when I mentioned it to other people. Some said, “Yes, I know that feeling.” Or “I struggle with that, too.” Starting the Beneath The Dappled Sky blog was a form of shame-resilience for me. I have learned I am not alone. I am not the only one to struggle with depression and anxiety. And, I know I am not the only one to feel condemnation when reading the Bible as a Christian.

The phrase, “put to shame” is found in the New International Version of the Old  Testament 47 times, but only 5 times in the New Testament. Why? Romans 5:5 says, “And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.”  And Romans 10:11 says, “As Scripture says, ‘Anyone who believes in him will never be put to shame.’”

Speaking shame, trusting in the Lord, and being self-compassionate have made a huge difference in my life. Reading Sarah Young’s devotional, Jesus Calling, also helped me to move from perfectionism and thinking I had to be or do something to be a “good”Christian to resting in God and trusting Him in my relationship with Him.

Even in reading the Bible.

Love Is Patient. Love Is Kind.

My bucket of faith, hope and love

Several months ago, Dr. Anna asked me to write my insecurities on a Styrofoam cup. I wrote about my fears, disconnection, perfectionism, feared judgement and unmet expectations. Then she had me poke holes in the cup to drain my insecurities.

It felt good to drain my insecurities. At the bottom I wrote, “Every last drop of insecurity drained.”

On the drive home I thought about what I wanted to fill my cup with. And the words, “Faith, hope and love” came to me.

Yes, that is what I want poured into my cup. I want to overflow with faith, hope and love.

I opened my Bible when I got home and turned to 1 Corinthians 13. You know, the Love Chapter. If you are like me, then you read it as an outward action. Love is patient (with others). Love is kind (to others)…

For some reason I read it differently on that day:

Love is patient. (I can be patient with myself. The same way I would be with a friend.)

Love is kind. (I can be kind to myself. I can speak kindly, the way I would with a friend.)

Love is not easily angered; it keeps no record of wrongs. (Whoa. I don’t have to be angry with myself or remind myself of what I’ve done or not done every day. My mistakes don’t have to play over and over in my mind.)

 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices in truth. (Depression lies. Satan lies. Anxiety lies. I rejoice in the truth. I seek the truth and dismiss the lies.)

Love always protects. (I protect the truth. I protect myself from lies.)

Love always trusts. (I trust myself and God.)

Love always hopes. (Through God, I see the best in me and always hope.)

Love always perseveres. (Don’t give up. Seek the truth and move forward. Stop living in the past.)

Love Never Fails.

I have lived a life believing the lies of perfectionism. Now, if you have seen my home or know me, you may laugh to think I struggle with being perfect. I fall on the other end of the spectrum. If I can’t do it perfectly, why do it at all? The All or Nothing Mentality.

Letting go of perfectionism is all about learning to be self-compassionate. Learning who I am. Trusting myself. Being willing to try and fail. Everything 1 Corinthians 13 says. 

No, it's not easy. In fact, my anxiety ratcheted right up this last month and I realized it was about perfectionism. That's when I bought the little pink bucket and wrote 1 Corinthians 13 on it. It helps to have a reminder around.

If you wonder about your level of self-compassion, you can take a test at http://selfcompassion.org/

If you can't love yourself, how can you love others openly and honestly?