In usual Liana fashion, I have been overthinking this newsletter for quite some time. I have spent more time thinking about writing, beating myself up for not writing, negotiating with myself about why I should be writing than actually writing. But this is how it goes in the mind of a perfectionist, recovering codependent. The faulty thinking tells me — “I will only do the thing that is in front of me if it already, fully makes sense in my mind.” That bracing against the unknown makes it difficult to do a lot of things I deeply crave: starting things, ending things, dating, creativity, and essentially being a person living with the inescapable uncertainty and messiness that accompanies being in this body, in this life.
The more I try to get things to fully make sense in my mind, the more uneasy I get. In 12 step recovery, they describe having a disease as having “dis-ease,” because we are unable to find ease in the moment we’'re in. The bracing and procrastinating and over-contemplating make it difficult to find a place of softness to land in so I can just do what’s in front of me. I find myself constantly thinking about the next thing I should do, or can do, that will make feel better because the discomfort of right now feels intolerable on some level.
I call it feeling “itchy” or “graspy”. Some of my friends describe this sense of uneasiness as feeling “crunchy.” But if you’re reading this newsletter, you know what I am talking about. It’s that sense that it’ll be too uncomfortable to slow down and sit with yourself but yet you feel like the very being inside yourself in this moment is the thing making this moment so unpleasant. Over the years, I’ve learned to identify when I’m in my itchy/graspy/crunchy dis-ease, largely because I’ve become very familiar with what I try to do to get out of it.
In no particular order:
Planning: There might be a better set of sensations and feelings in what’s next so I’ll think about that.
Resisting: Probably my favorite uneasiness coping mechanism. Just saying “Nope, I am unwilling to feel this way.” I resist it and push against it and yet that puts me so in the middle of it that I make the uneasiness I was so badly trying to escape, worse.
Judging Myself: If I can blame my current discomfort on myself - on something I’m doing or not doing, then I have the momentary illusion that I can control fixing it. My mind will play like a ticker tape a list of “should have dones” or “should do nows” to give me the false impression that if I can just find the one thing that I can do or stop doing, I can make this feeling shift.
Blaming You: This is a fun one. This comes up for me a lot when I think people are being cold or distant (#AreYouMadAtMe lol). I think the fact that you hearted my text but didn’t actully write anything back, or that you had a slight scowl on your face during the work call is why I feel so uneasy. Even though I can’t control how others behave, the resentment I have about their behavior being whats causing my problem also gives me the illusion of having some power over the discomfort I feel.
I really think so much of my suffering comes from my addiction to trying to control unpleasant feelings. If I can’t feel my way out of uneasiness, I’ll think my way out of it. If I can’t think my way out of it, I’ll obsess my way out of it. If I can’t obsess my way out of it, I’ll worry my way out of it. If I can’t worry my way out of it, I will use other people to get me out of it. If I can’t use other people to get me out of it, I’ll work my way out of it. If I can’t work my way out of it, I’ll try to shame myself out of it. And when all of those things don’t work, I realize I am worse off than when I started. I’ve now piled thinking, obsessing, worrying, people, work and shame on top of the original layer of uneasiness, and the cake of my serenity is now toppling over.
An old sponsor of mine used to say “just don’t add another layer to the pain.” I think this is what she meant. When I am uncomfortable (or sad, or angry, or apathetic or fearful), can' I just be with that layer of the cake and not add to it. In Buddhism, they talk about second-arrowing ourselves (Here is an amazing episode by Tara Brach on second-arrowing ourselves).
In essence: how willing am I to just be uncomfortable? Not as a problem to solve or a thing to be figured out, but just as a very unpleasant, uneasy sensation to just be with. This is the practice for me.
I practice being uneasy.
I practice being uncomfortable.
I practice noticing when I’m adding layers of shame, blame, resistance to the cake and see if I can pause.
I practice remembering that pain is a feeling, not a forever fact.
I practice faith that this dis-ease will lift, like they all have in the past.
I practice not leaving myself for a newer, shiner, easier feeling that isn’t happening right now. When I abandon myself for an easier feeling, it’s no different than abandoning myself for a person.
And most importantly, I remind myself that like every other feeling or thought, uneasiness is a season, not a lifetime. And I trust in my ability to weather the storm.
This beautiful, honest, deeply self-forgiving piece by
about the seasons of life where we generate and incubate and the seasons of life where we perform and produce.But we can’t compare our input years to other people’s output years—or days, or seasons, or even decades.
I wasn’t inching forward with big life goals during my input years—I didn’t even know what they were—but I was filling back up. In other words, I devoured, without guilt.
In my book, I liken this oscillation we find in ourselves to a sponge: there is the absorbing and the squeezing. Sometimes you need to do nothing except absorb inspiration, knowledge or find rest. This is an input phase..
Read the rest of her piece here.
See above. And also (imperfectly) practicing accepting the fact that some things feel difficult for me that used to feel easy. For example, I’ve been grappling with social anxiety, which is new for me! But we are not static people and neither are the things that activate us. It’s okay that it used to be less scary to socialize (especially with strangers) than it is now. How can I lean into that reality instead of try to fix it or make it go away?
My fear about how I am going to get more readers to read my work. My belief that unless I have someone’s gaze on my work, the creativity doesn’t count. My fear of starting…anything. This past week - it’s failures and its successes. My anxiety about why I’ve been more anxious than usual lately.
Some gems I’ve heard in recovery meetings/from friends/in articles recently:
“I don’t have a problem with someone’s behavior. I have a problem with the feelings/reactions someone’s behavior brings up for me.”
“Shame is what breeds obsession and fantasy”
“It’s more painful to be loved but not known than it is to be known but not fully loved”
“When you don’t instantly evaluate your feelings in terms of whether they’re for or against you, things look very different”
xo,
Liana
Wow. I’ve really been focusing on “living in the uncomfortable” this year and always looking to read on that very topic. I related so much to this piece. I am someone who plans so much in my head that I never get anything actually done. It’s so easy for me to continue being that way because it’s what I know. However, I’ve started to be more present and guess what, I survived!
I admire you for having the bravery to put yourself out there. You're very relatable, and I’m now going to dive into all your pieces here.
Thank you for sharing the piece! ❤️