7+ things that have helped me become myself

We interrupt your apocalypse to bring you… me.

I want to share with you 7+ things that have helped me become myself.

1. Cannabis has been a highly valued tool during this journey, with some rocky moments. It has been really hard to find a method of consuming and a strain that works for me. Here are some things I learned.

a) of all the methods of using cannabis, my preference right now is for vaping. I have tried combusting (smoking), edibles, oils, tinctures, and dermal forms. I hesitated to start vaping because my preference would have been to not inhale anything into my lungs. But I was struggling with finding a method that did work, so I tried it. I have tried 3 types of vapes: an electric one for concentrates, a dry herb vape that uses a butane torch (so non-electric), and a rechargeable dry herb vape. The latter is now my daily use vaporizer.

b) Dry herb vaping is as it sounds – I buy dried flower from ocs.ca (I like citrusy indica strands with both thc and cbd) and it goes into the tiny oven in the vape, and that’s what I use. No cartridges, no solvents, no disposables. This created a ritual that has become a cherished part of my day. I use the vape once a day, rarely twice, and then I do yoga. The cannabis allows me to relax/release tension and hold poses, and listen to my body, much more than usual. I find if I do something too intellectual or requiring of motor skills after vaping, I will overthink a lot. So being on the mat is the perfect place to experience the first twenty minutes after vaping that requires more inward attention. I do yoga in a cool room, and after vaping, I don’t feel the cold as much. Normally it would bother me, so what better time to take advantage of a change in perception of body temperature? It really works for me. I often follow it up with 37 minutes of meditation.

2. I tricked myself into meditating for an hour a day. The following will reveal the bargains I make with myself every day to find my sweet spot for experiencing life. 37 is a number that my higher self uses to tell me to pay attention. (I bet you’ll see it more now. It’s a very pleasing number). In my mind, 37 minutes is really only thirty minutes, and if you count the 3 minutes it takes to settle into the meditation, and the last two minutes which are always easy, it’s more like 25 minutes which is more like 20. So, then I settle into the meditation and it takes FIVE minutes to settle in, which is fine. Tell myself I’ll meditate long enough to be sure it’s been 37 minutes, then I’ll check my clock. My hope it that it’s been 45 minutes for only 20 minutes of time. It never is. It’s usually in the 17-23 mark. This makes me feel like it’ll take eons to get to actually 37 (which is now transforming into “practically an hour” in my mind). So I settle in again and I’m determined to stay until I am POSITIVE it’s more than 37 minutes. So I get to an hour out of stubbornness. Best part? The hour really only feels like 37 minutes.

I am currently doing 108 day of meditation and though there’s no minimum time that’s good for meditation (5 minutes is great and it’s where I started years ago) I have not established a daily practice, I go through phases, but my intention is to really invest the time, because I have it.

3. I used to be really into yoga (I get really into things, it’s just what I do). I loved going to classes and loved practising along to yoga videos online. But my capabilities would change so much after my frequent breaks from the practise, and I would get frustrated whenever I tried to start again. When Allie Chisholm-Smith offered a by-donation (for Enliven Cancer Care) weekly class for cancer survivors, I knew the time was right to commit to a regular practise. On Thursdays, she leads a very deep restorative class, and on the very first session, I had something release in my hip/back that has been causing distress and physical symptoms for YEARS. I cried when it happened. That night, I had the first pain-free walk I’ve had in so long that I forgot what that could feel like. The next day, the pain was back, but it felt surmountable now because I have evidence it could ease. I get that relief maybe once every 2 weeks and only once while stretching on my own.

Since that class started, I’ve done yoga almost every day. Besides that zoom course, I don’t watch videos. I do exactly the poses I want to do. Sometimes I do the same ones in the same order for a week or more. I explore into the pain instead of rearing back from it. I don’t often do a long shavasana – it hurts to lie on my back so I go into seated, and when I’m done, I’m done. I give myself a hug or thank my body, because I have always wanted to do yoga daily and the reason I do right now is because my body is telling me it wants to move in these ways – and I’m listening.

4. I’ve always loved a good walk. It’s the best protection against osteoporosis; it’s a great time to move thoughtfully, call a friend, or listening to a podcast or an audiobook. I am lucky to have beautiful and interesting things to look at on my walk. I walk at night and if I ever stop, I will know something irreplaceable will have been taken from me. I’ve worked out the best times to walk at what time of year. Walking before bed in the summer will make me too hot, but in winter, it helps me sleep. Walking is a sacred movement and a cherished time with self (and dog).

5. I have a lifelong conflict with sleep. I struggled to get to school as a kid. As a teen, going to bed after 2am and/or waking up around 3pm were normal whenever possible. I feel like I was never taught how to actually sleep (no disrespect to my mom – who could have known I’d need further instruction?). I would lie down and close my eyes and think and imagine and plan and wonder until it started getting light out. Of course I would try to sleep, but it gets so boring and so frustrating, and if I’m going to lie here doing nothing, I might as well day-dream all night.

University was really bad. Before my morning classes (which I tried to keep to one per week) I would often stay awake the night before because sleeping was so routinely impossible. I have tried everything, and here’s some of what I learned.

a) most people who take melatonin are taking too much, and for some people it makes the brain reliant on getting the hormone externally so that it stops producing it itself. Like many, MANY other things I’ve tried, it doesn’t work for me. I sleep better without it.

b) Prescription sleeping pills are a slippery slope. A lot of them are antidepressants that make you tired. A lot more are addictive or cause rebound insomnia (double hell) when you stop them. However, if I take it once a week or so on nights that are a real struggle, it’s a helpful tool.

c) Meditation does not help me sleep. I can lie in bed and meditate for hours. Any improvement in my mood from the meditation is negated by the insomnia. What I have to do is close my eyes and try to keep them closed (if I start thinking, I often open my eyes) and watch the patterns on the back of my eyelids. That has to have my ENTIRE ATTENTION for as long as it takes to fall asleep.

d) Everything you can do to make your sleep better needs to be done. I have spent more than half my life sleep-deprived. My sleep-debt would bankrupt me. What’s happened these last few months is I have had the opportunity (being on sick leave) to do the same thing every day, AND to find out which things I actually want to or need to do every day and their level of importance. What kind of human am I, when I learn to let the soft animal of my body love what it loves?

For two weeks, I woke up at 6:45am – not something I could ever normally do – for a meditation practise. It was really hard on my body in the beginning, and I spent the first three nights getting only a few hours sleep. It was hard to decide to continue, but I was really enjoying what felt like secret sacred morning time. It had the same feeling as super late nights – you feel free because no one would expect you to be up. I feel unreachable. And because the only thing I really did after 10pm was watch tv or play a video game, making myself go to bed at that time didn’t feel like a loss. After two weeks, I can now say that I am able to sleep better with the aforementioned conditions met, and many more: specific levels of darkness, quiet, certain materials for sheets, CBD oil, quiet reading, no screen time in bed, and more. It is a huge undertaking for me to be able to sleep, but worth it.

6. I drink a green smoothie every day. This is not a booster juice, friends. This is not something I do for pleasure and I am not savouring it. But drinking a gross liquid in 3 gulping sessions is easier than consuming the daily recommended amount of fruits and veg. I put in some liquid vitamin b, turmeric, frozen spinach, a lemon and orange WITH the peels, bananas, leftover cooked veg, carrots with garden dirt, anything you can imagine, I will smoothie it (best investment my mom and I ever made was a vitamix). My friend once told me it was fishy. Kai calls it a ‘sludgie’. And I love them. I love how I feel after I drink one, I love that if I do it regularly, my systems start functioning better. I love that our gut is the second brain (maybe even the FIRST brain), and it releases a substantial amount of our serotonin.

I picture my microbiome as a landscape of gardens, happily creating a peaceful society inside me, and I am their benevolent god who delivers unto them a sludge of love. I didn’t think this could possibly have made a big difference in my mood until I ate a fast food hamburger and the next day, I felt so low that I went back to bed – I described it as being stabbed with a ‘sad sword’, and the only reason I noticed is because I had something to compare it to and because I could point distinctly at the burger as the culprit because everything else I had done is the same every day. That burger entered my microbiome like army and it felt like it.

I make a big batch every 3 days and put them into mason jars.

7. The last 4 years since my cancer diagnosis and surgeries, I have been pretty low. I’ve been lower, which is the only reason this didn’t feel utterly hopeless. I have been trying to find my way, find what I need to feel okay in the world, find out how I can help the world and also myself. About 15 years ago, I would not leave my apartment and considered myself agoraphobic for over a year. My eating disorder was wreaking havoc, and I lost and gained hundreds of pounds during the stretch of depression that preceded and followed getting married to a man. I also lost a lot of friendships.

When I returned to Huntsville, I made friends and joined a lot of workshops, courses, volunteer programs, and jobs. A LOT. I loved being that active in my community and I love the opportunities I had, the people I met and worked with. Many of them became deep friendships. But… I was everywhere and nowhere. I had obligations occupying every free moment of most days. Then I got cancer, and then COVID. I took a lot of time off during the cancer, and I was trying desperately to create what I am now finally stepping into. But I was so deep in grief that I simply could not arrive at the next stage early.

I started using a calendar to write down only two things: which loved one I spoke to or saw that day, if any, and whether I was lonely. I was not lonely much, but it did happen – usually about two weeks after my last visit with a loved one. That’s how long it took to start to crave human connection beyond my household. That’s just not something I ever knew about myself before. Here’s what I used to do: get lonely. Get REALLY lonely. Text a few people to see who is available. A few people reply (I am blessed to have this and I am not whining I promise). Suddenly I have a bunch of plans with different people in a week. In a week, I am not lonely anymore, and I have way too much social stuff to do – so I cancel and retreat.

Now, I know I need outside human connection every two weeks at minimum, and I make plans with one person and then wait for my Social Meter to drop before going out again. Sometimes life doesn’t adhere to a calendar, but I feel more capable of spontaneity if I’m not overloaded. This is one of many ways I have used this time off to treat my life like a science experience designed to understand the subject (me) better.

Speaking of friends and family… My closest people get cancelled on the most, and for that, I am sorry. I knew I was a woman of extremes but I didn’t know all the ways it manifested. I often wish days were longer – I’m never bored. I wish I could see my loved ones at both our bests. But I am so grateful that the people who love me are patient, generous, and have often gone through what I’m going through. I feel I can be honest with my circle about my needs and my boundaries, and my hope is that in being radically honest, I can model how to prioritize ourselves. Sometimes ‘good’ boundaries are more like ‘strong’ boundaries – I do what I have to, to make sure that I’m okay. And I have to trust that the other party is doing the same.

This has been especially important with Kai, my girlfriend, because we spend the most time together. My solo time is deeply cherished by us both. Kai knows that if I take care of myself, I will be more able to give care to others. I also know that I can very easily become a passenger in a relationship, doing what they like, eating what they want, etc. I just go along for the ride, I THOUGHT because I was trying to discover what I like and had no strong preferences, but was actually more like, I did not think my preferences deserved a voice. Once I started to give them a voice, they would not be silenced anymore.

There are parts of my day that intertwine with Kai, and we have many things we love to do together. Yet, since I started my early mornings, I get alone time with no expectations (I usually read), and then when she wakes up, I feel much more emotionally available. Having Kai working with me through my low points has made me feel: less mentally ill, more loving, more playful, less afraid of dying, kinder and softer, more challenged, and more held. Yes, I do love my alone time, but I don’t make me laugh the way Kai does, and I so love making her laugh as well. She and my mom and I have been working to try to make each other’s lives better and easier. It’s a challenge but we’re all in it for the long haul, and we’re committed to doing things differently. We talk about EVERYTHING. It all matters.

So much of this is only possible because of what my life looks like. A lot of this works because: I live with my mom, I have an income from EI even when I can’t work; I have ‘free’ time; I don’t have children or other care-giving responsibilities; I live in a country with socialized healthcare; I have loved ones looking out for me and sharing with me. I truly feel so loved and I am so grateful. I am very aware that many people cannot do what I am doing here. My hope, however, is that maybe there’s one or two things I’m describing that you could benefit from – and if the time isn’t right now, maybe one day it will be. I’ve learned that timing is everything.

So if you’ve been wondering how I’m doing, this is why I’ve been saying, “Quite well, actually.” I am curious about and care about every moment of my life. I want to feel better, and when I can’t, I want to have other strategies in place to know what to do about those low times.

Some bonus recommendations:

Less scrolling. This doesn’t necessarily equate to less screen time, but it completely changes my relationship with my phone to an active one. If I want to look something up, say “I love you” to a friend, or write something controversial on social media (like my recent stance on cracking the spines of books – I’m pro), then I use my phone. When I scroll, I don’t feel good. I see a lot of people say things I know are incorrect or uninformed. I see a lot of people misunderstanding each other, sometimes, it seems, on purpose. My stomach clenches and I get sad. I recognize that feeling, and I stop the behaviour. I DON’T WANT TO BE SAD. I don’t need trillion dollar industries whose entire purpose is to strategize ways to keep me bound to my phone, making us sad and angry on purpose to make us think and act in anti-social ways, to keep us coming back because nothing makes us happy. Well, I cracked the fucking code. I’m going to be happy ANYWAY.

Ritualize everything. I put my supplements in a pretty stone dish. I fill my vape mindfully. I make a fire in the woodstove doing everything I can to make sure it lights with one match, even if it means taking ten minutes to build it. When some item doesn’t get tidied because it doesn’t have a designated spot, I choose one or make one, say out loud, you live here now, and tuck it away (that helps me remember where I store things, too). I have a sacred bedtime routine (walk the dog, brush my teeth, take my CBD oil, write in my journal – one page only, read one poem from one poetry book at a time, and read a little fiction if it means I can still get 8 hours sleep). I have a morning routine. I am trying to have a chore routine.

Make notes of what I’ve been forgetting. I have a terrible habit of reading a text or email, composing a response in my head, and promptly forgetting about it because my brain considers it done. I struggle to reply in the moment because I looooooooove to think about everything. Now I have a little widget on my phone home screen with a list: text N re event; look into ‘whatever’ and email S back, put K’s address in spreadsheet. If it’s still there in a week, maybe it didn’t need to be done (or maybe I miss an opportunity and I accept that). And if I do the thing, I get the dopamine hit of checking something off my list. From doing this, I’ve realized I THINK I have more to do than I actually do, because I constantly remembering and re-forgetting the same 5 things.

Take little moments to future-proof myself. I stand on one foot, and then the other, when I brush my teeth. Balance is the number one factor that predicts whether you will have an injurious fall. When I fill my water bottle from the carboy on the floor, I squat. Find ways to squat. Stretch! Make every movement a conscious, beloved one. Ordinary moments is where grace lives. Every movement can be devotional, can be worship.

Here’s what’s missing:

1. I miss volunteer work. I miss working toward a common goal with like-minded people. I am trying to change the world, but it’s hard to know how when I have overwhelmed myself in the past, and when my pain and limitations (boundaries) are still revealing themselves to me.

2. This is a lot of writing to say I haven’t been writing much. I’ve been craving work like this, to invite people into my inner world. I spend so much time thinking and I get so much out of sharing, that it just seems like a great use of my time to create like this. I have been working on my serial novel Local Girl Liveblogs the Apocalypse, available free as a newsletter. But sometimes when I think about releasing a chapter, I would rather explore reality instead. I think it would suit me to write like THIS when I want, and not commit solely to fiction just because I started it. Why not both?

I’m learning that whenever I have a block with writing, it’s because something else is demanding to be said. I’ve also been working on compiling my work, because it’s everywhere, both in scattered notebooks and digitally. Me sharing my writing is the equivalent of shooting off a confetti cannon: it’s sudden, it’s everywhere, and who is going to clean this shit up?

Still, it’s hard to feel low about my writing right now because I have gone long stretches without writing at all. I have abandoned far more projects than I’ve started, and I’ve bailed on pieces with higher stakes than a newsletter. What I’m NOT doing is being hard on myself for not creating the way I WISH I would. I know what I’m capable of doing (19 000 words a day ahem, yes I did that ONCE; a novel in a month, yes I did that 5X) and what I will likely never do again (I won’t try to accomplish those numbers, and I am just not her anymore). And that’s okay. I want better words, not more words. Insight, not expulsion.

There are other things I’m either missing or wishing I could integrate into my day. But this is the first time in more than 4 years that I feel like I might be around to see the fruits of all this effort. To believe that if I get cancer again, I might be better prepared or more resilient because of all these practises.

I am afraid a lot. I’m afraid of what can happen in a world where hard won gains are lost, one by one. I can imagine what a worst-case scenario climate/societal breakdown will look like for women and other vulnerable people – because it’s playing out all over the planet. I want everyone to be safe. I want my community to be safe, my loved ones. Me.

Always prefer Kai’s photos of me

I am meeting that fear with love. Starting with me, because I’ve tried starting everywhere else and it just doesn’t work.

And, as always, I am working on making Hexagon Women’s Land a reality.

Have to stop writing now. It’s time to do what’s next.