How young or old are you, really?

(Photo by Jill Greenberg)
I was having a fun little conversation with two of my coworkers yesterday at the end of our lunch break. I can't remember how we got on the topic, but the subject of psychological age came up. There's chronological age and then there's psychological age. Psychological age differs from chronological age in that the difference lies not with how many years you've been on this Earth (chronological), but with how old one perceives or feels oneself to be emotionally and mentally.

Interestingly, I noticed a pattern in our discussion about this....fluctuation or fluidity in psychological age depending on the context of situations, relationships, life experiences,etc. We were talking about how old we feel at work vs. maybe in regard to romantic relationships or other facets of our lives. I commented that I feel like a 40 year old when I'm at work/in sessions with clients, but most of the time I feel about 25 years old. What about you, my blog readers? Are there certain situations in which you feel "older," "younger," or your actual chronological age?

I remember thinking when I was a little kid (ok, even as a teenager or in my 20's, haha) that one day I would reach this "magical" stage or moment where suddenly *Poof!*: I would feel like an "adult." Little did I realize that this never really happens, permanently anyway. At least for me. I can't speak for the millions of human beings on the planet. I'd be curious to see how people feel about chronological age vs. psychological age in other cultures around the world. Perhaps it's just us silly Americans that never really grow up? ....And I'm ok with that!

I know for me, there's nothing more gratifying than moments where I find myself having the silliness and playfulness of a 6 year old, the passions of a 17 year old, the free and adventurous spirit of a 21 year old, the confidence of a 30 year old, and the compassion and wisdom of a 40-50something year old.

Perhaps the indicator of a good life is being able to embrace the best of our various psychological ages.

Becoming a good writer

"The deeper you can listen, the better you can write....basically, if you want to become a good writer, you need to do three things. Read alot, listen well and deeply, and write alot. And don't think too much. Just enter the heat of words and sounds and colored sensations and keep your pen moving across the page." ---taken from "Writing Down the Bones," by Natalie Goldberg

1. Write alot Though I read "Writing Down the Bones" over 10 years ago, this really resonated with me and has stayed with me over the years whenever I find myself in that space to write and let it all hang out, if you will. Tonight I found myself skimming through copious blog entries I've written on here from 2007 up until now. After reading through them, I could see an interesting progression of how my writing has developed over the last 5 years. It's funny to think it all started with me writing entries on my old school Myspace page back in 2005. I wrote in a journal from my teens to my 20's, which was always private...for my eyes only. Then came the era of social networking sites....and from there I started writing for others to read. It was still for myself, but I had to get comfortable with the notion that writing well involved "nakedness" or "exposure." Letting go of a need to control what others would think or feel when they read my entries was the toughest thing to learn...still hard at times, especially since my writing reveals more about me than my daily interactions with people. It's the root, the core of me. Writing for the public domain involves risk and vulnerability. It's been a scary and amazing journey to go from journals and notebooks to social networking blog entries to my own personal blog page. I can only hope with exciting anticipation that my writing progresses even further in my lifetime.

As an aside....yesterday my friend Helen shared with me that she started a blog and really wanted my "honest opinion, since you are the guru of blogging." Guru? I was stunned, to say the least. I certainly don't see myself that way, though it was a nice compliment and even inspired me a bit. It's not the first time a friend has turned to me for guidance and feedback with their writing/blogging endeavors.....which I find funny since I don't think any of the handful of people who have turned to me for help actually read much of what I write. haha. Maybe it's just the time and effort I have put into this passion of mine that has them turning to me. Who knows! There's something about that though (seeing my friends start their own writing projects) that renews that old spark in me....feels really good.

2. Read alot My friend Josh asked his online friends the other day how many books they've read in their lifetime. The nerdy girl I am, I secretly wish I've kept track all these years. I'd be super curious to know the exact number, only because I bet it would blow my mind. Alas, I can only estimate. 3,000? Maybe that's too many? Not enough? It's gotta be at least 1,000. I then wondered how different I would have turned out if I didn't read at all. Think of all the people in this world who are illiterate. Think of how often we are forced to read in our everyday lives, and not for leisure...but just to live and complete daily tasks. Can you imagine how much harder life would be without reading? With that said, I've read ALOT....for leisure, for guidance, for curiosity, for entertainment. I'd even go so far as to say that reading has been a major influence on who I am today as a human being. Books get me through life. When in doubt, I turn to a book (or a writer) more easily and more frequently than I turn to people for help. Perhaps this is why others seek me out when they are in need of book recommendations too? Haha.

3. Listen well and deeply Well, this applies to me too.....though I wonder if maybe I'm listening to others too much (as a therapist and with friends or family) and have lost my way with listening well and deeply to myself....my own thoughts, feelings, ideas, creativity,etc. On that note, I've found it telling that I seem to be inspired to write more lately (even craving to do so) since I've been reading more, "unplugging" from technology (specifically social networking) more, and taking time to do things I most want to do because I'm not being distracted by mindless technological distractions. Perhaps it's time I go off the grid a bit. Maybe I can finally allow myself to write that book I always wanted to write, or maybe even come up with an entirely new idea for a book.....

Pride

Pride. It can carry a positive or negative connotation. Mostly though, I think it tends to present itself in unpleasant ways in our lives.

In what ways does pride show up in your life? Does it seem to get in the way of living the life you most want to live?

For me, pride (a.ka. ego) is just a form of shame. It's the feeling of not measuring up to some high self-inflicted standard you've set for yourself. It may appear helpful at first glance if you think you can manage to do something 'just the right way,' but in the overall scheme of things it's counter-productive. It doesn't leave much room for personal growth in one's life.

I got to thinking about this tonight, as I am slowing working on releasing (or at least decreasing) pride I have around two major things that have been ever too present in my life for years. If I can't beat it, I suppose I must join it...or surrender to it, rather.

More often than not, I tend to have shame around not being the "perfect" body weight/size. I also have shame around money (ie, struggling with not having enough/living beyond my means). Interestingly, both of these issues have become uncomfortably prominent in my life even more so than usual lately. Normally, I would avoid these situations at all costs or find ways to struggle through the self-inflicted standards I set for myself around these issues....but enough is enough. I'm tired of battling with myself. I'd rather let go and face my fears. So be it. What do I honestly have to lose?

What do we stand to lose if we let go of the pride that stands in our own way? False illusions. That's what you'll release. You see, that's the way the ego works. It's counter-productive. Do the opposite and you'll have something far more productive: self-acceptance. Maybe even support and acceptance from others that you never allowed them to demonstrate while your ego was running rampant.

Stop judging yourself so much...a little humbleness and compassion for one's self goes a long way. Try it sometime. You may just discover a whole new positive sense of pride emerging in the ego's absence.

Liberation. Growth. The opportunity to learn and change in a meaningful way.

Romantic Literature

I never realized before (not consciously anyway) how much I am drawn to Romantic literature. Not to be confused with modern "chick lit," I'm referring to classic literature of the Romanticism era (ie, the late 18th century).

Last night I had the delightful opportunity to watch the newest film release of the classic "Jane Eyre" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C8J6Cjn06kA) with my mom. I knew it was a classic by one of the Bronte sisters, but that's all I knew about it. Given that I tend to enjoy classic literature books and films, I figured there would be a strong chance I'd like it. Not only did I like it, I loved it. I thought perhaps there was something about this movie that had me so drawn to it, but I couldn't pinpoint what it could be.

My mom, a college English and Humanities professor, told me after the movie was over that it had all the qualities of the Romanticism genre: a misunderstood loner who follows his/her own way rather than the conventional standards of the time, nature, traveling, the supernatural, emphasis on women and children, and speaking to the "common" people (vs. only the aristocracy). It also focused on conveying feelings of horror, awe, and trepidation.

I'm not sure why I'm attracted to these particular characteristics, perhaps because it is the one time period I can see myself living in or wish I could live in if I could choose to live in another era. In some weird way, I can identify with the main character's internal struggles in Romanticism....the intellectual strength and emotional angst they experience. I can especially identify with the identity of 'loner' (going off the beaten path/the road less traveled), being attracted to someone who is different from the conventional standard (and also wanting that same kind of attraction reciprocated). I also like the juxtaposition of beauty (aka nature) against horror. It seems to accurately depict how life can be simultaneously a balance of exquisite and tragic. Now I know why I've also loved other Romantic era novels, like "Frankenstein," "Scarlet Letter," as well as the works of Ralph Waldo Emerson and Henry David Thoreau!

More specific to "Jane Eyre," I appreciate the fact that Jane is a strong, confident, and incredibly self-reliant woman who doesn't need to be rescued by a man....such a refreshing thing to see from the stereotypical norm of "damsel in distress." Again, I could very much relate to this character, as I've never relied on anyone to 'rescue' me throughout my life.

At the same time, I long for the kind of passionate, deep devotion and unconditional love Jane and Rochester have for one another....the kind of love that appears to know no bounds. I wonder, however, if such a thing exists in the 21st century. Or maybe that has never existed. Regardless, it's an idealistic notion of passion and love I can at least dream about or aspire to attain.

I'm craving to read some Romantic literature now...

Gr-Attitude

A friend of mine, a fellow mental health clinician, gave me an idea last month....to practice daily gratitude.....write/post 4 things (anything....from the simple to the deeper/more profound) for which you're grateful for every day for 30 days. I decided to revert to my "old school" ways and write in a journal with my fancy roller gel pen. In a world where virtually everything is shared in public mediums, there's something to be said for writing somewhere for my eyes only if I so choose. I started this little project while on my vacation in Chicago and two weeks into it, I'm already noticing a difference in my overall attitude each day.

Being the book buying and reading fiend that I am, I naturally wandered into a bookstore at the airport on my way home the other day. I was immediately drawn to a blue book that might as well have had neon lights flashing, luring me in. If I remembered correctly, another mental health counselor friend of mine had mentioned recently reading this blue book. I picked it up, flipped it over, and read the back cover. The cashier had my money within 5 minutes.

A perfect supplement to the 30 day daily gratitude list, I spent the whole 4 and a half hours of my flight reading "The Happiness Project." What's funny is that nothing the writer said was remarkable or insightful....but it was the way she said things or maybe what she chose to write about. It sparked inspiration and motivation, something that comes to me far and few between the last 2-3 years (at least in regard to my writing and ability to express my greatest creative potential).

Reading the book made me happy during those hours; it gave me hope that a muse is within my reach. I had this urge to want to do more with my photography, had thoughts about rearranging the appearance of my apartment, envisioned myself doing artsy things soon with an art/photo journal I started a few years ago, and write on my poor neglected but still dearly loved (by me anyway) blog. It's amazing what you find yourself thinking about when you're "forced" to become more aware of it. I can't help but wonder if practicing daily gratitude is a driving factor. And let me tell you, nothing is more difficult than finding things to be grateful for when so much is going on around you.....around the world (ie, earthquake and tsunami in Japan comes to mind), at work, anywhere! When things are overwhelming, stressful, or hopelessness starts creeping into your psyche and you can STILL find gratitude----such is the absolute "test."

Yesterday and today were two such days for me, today in particular. Yesterday I noticed a discrepancy on my bank statement regarding a monthly auto debit deduction for my student loan bill: it was lower than usual. For a few minutes I considered not calling about it, thinking it was a pleasant mistake.

Then that "Do the right thing Katie" part of my brain kicked in and I vowed to call the student loan customer service number.

Turns out after a 20 minute conversation with a customer service representative, I still don't completely understand why it was lower. All I know is it has something to do with the maximum number of payments I'm allowed that the brilliant (note the sarcasm) federal government has decided I cannot exceed for a lifetime amount, thus creating (unrealistically) high monthly payments after a certain pay period. This resulted in me feeling dejected and somewhat ashamed, as I was feeling stuck between wanting to be a responsible student loan bill paying citizen and wondering how it's possible to do so on my "public servant" salary.

What struck me most of all though about this exchange I had with this perfect stranger was how he responded to my concerns: he listened with genuine compassion. I could hear it in his voice. You can tell when someone is merely doing their job vs. saying something like they really mean it. "This guy 'gets it," I thought.

Granted, it didn't alter my long term financial predicament at all...but sometimes it's simply refreshing to feel heard by another human being. Maybe he has debts or bills he's struggling to pay himself. In any case, I found myself oddly thankful for his empathy and willingness to genuinely listen.

If we can find bits of gratitude in the most unpleasant experiences, just imagine how much more awareness, happiness, and creativity we can muster in the best of circumstances!

"It is easy to be heavy; hard to be light." --G.K. Chesterton

"Nothing can make our life, or the lives of other people, more beautiful than perpetual kindness." --Leo Tolstoy

"Go get yourself loved." ---from 2011 independent film "Happy thank you more please"

5K

Plenty of sleep? Check.
Protein for breakfast? Check.
Mental determination? Double check.

I awoke this morning a little before 7am to get ready for my very first 5K run. A bit intimidated and unsure about how this experience would turn out, but I was most excited to see how far I've come in the last 13 months....

You see, I have never been athletic or into fitness...not really. I didn't regularly exercise until I was in college and graduate school. Even then, it wasn't something I made an absolute priority. I was more concerned with weight loss back then; it was my only motivation.

My whole life I have struggled with weight issues and so I have always associated exercise as a necessary 'evil' towards reaching the physical ideal. I would do some cardio to 'get it out of the way' and move on to the next thing on my 'to do' list. Exercise wasn't a mindful activity or something pleasant I looked forward to doing.

It wasn't until January 2010 that I made a stronger commitment...to that of fitness. While I still would like to lose weight (and have been/still am), I have learned these last 13 months that being healthy and having strong muscles is more important than what the numbers tell me when I step on a scale. I have learned so many things since I started going to a gym and working with a trainer....plyometrics (strength training), weight training, different kinds of dance, how to push myself a little harder each time so I'm always tricking my body/prevent from hitting a plateau, and the importance of stretching. And muscle weighs more than fat, don't forget! Pay attention to how your clothes feel as you lose inches of body fat, not water weight!

Sometimes I go running outside in my neighborhood or on the treadmills in the gym, but I've never done a race of any sort. I always thought that was just for 'real runners'.....which is why I was a bit nervous and intimidated about my first 5K today. And I ended up totally rocking it! Who knew!

I arrived early so that I could get a parking spot since I heard there were 3,000 people expected to be participating. With my fingers crossed for the sky to be rain and wind free, I walked onto the path of the lake searching for signs of the 'start' area. I didn't see any signs.

As I was listening to my ipod and holding a banana in my right hand, I saw out of the corner of my eye this pigtailed young woman wearing a blue Jingle Bell Run tshirt waving her hands at me. I pulled the headphones out of my ears and approached her. She saw that I was wearing a Valentine's Day Dash Love 'Em or Leave 'Em shirt and thought maybe I knew where we were supposed to go, but I didn't know either. We chatted briefly and heard from someone else that the registration area was at the boathouse, which was probably 1.5 miles away from where we were standing on Green Lake. It was 45 minutes before race time, so I leisurely walked as I ate my banana and headed towards the 'start' area. Fortunately, the weather was great....in the 40's and partly sunny, no wind.

15 minutes prior to start time, I was waiting in line for the women's restroom and this woman behind me started talking with me for a few minutes. She looked to be in her early 50's and mentioned this was her first race. "My daughter runs marathons, but she couldn't be here today because she has to take care of her 3 year old son." I told her it was my first race as well. She went on to tell me how she's been in a relationship that she's not sure whether to stay in or leave. "So this race is kinda symbolic for you?" I inquired. "Well, good luck!," I added.

"You too!" she said.

I've wondered how in races everyone can start at the same time when not everyone is near the starting line. I found out today. There were different mile markers of where to stand, depending on how fast you think you can run in minutes per mile. It started with 6-7 minutes and went all the way up to 13. I'm not a fast runner, so I went to the 13 minute marker. I honestly didn't care about being fast. Endurance was my main focus. For me, it was more important to run at a moderate pace and not get tired. I was determined to not walk AT ALL...and I didn't! (I usually have to stop and walk at some point when I'm running by myself)

What I liked about this race was that there were people of all ages and fitness levels. It took away the intimidation factor. I suddenly felt I belonged there, that I could do it successfully. And I did! I was in some kind of 'zone' and it felt amazing. I had my music going and it was as if time stopped...or either I felt no sense of time as I ran. It felt like I just started running and before I knew it, I was done (34:04...not bad for a first timer!). Didn't feel long at all, or even hard. It's true that 90% of it is mental. With that said, I can't wait for the next race.

Making fitness a lifestyle choice has had me reinvent myself in ways I could never fathom before, not to mention it's shown me how if you really set your mind to accomplishing something you CAN do it!!!

L

L,

Every once in awhile, I miss you. Today is one of those days.

Sure, I never missed waiting for you to pick me up, never miss being left wondering if you stood me up or waiting for an explanation in those moments you arrived interminably late when I was freezing my ass off on your platforms.

Nor do I miss how you smelled of stale urine, or finding used up drug needles you carelessly left behind on the seats near the west side.

I don't miss your redundant announcements or your empty promises to be more reliable, more inviting.

I don't miss how, because of you, I was brought face to face with some likely creepy criminals that could have harmed me but for whatever reason didn't.

But I miss the views you gave me from your windows.....the sunsets, the hustle and bustle of nightlife, the skyscrapers, a freshly fallen snow that leaves behind an almost silent purity.

I miss how you entertained me with your colorful characters, gave me time to collect my thoughts or read, and brought out the adventurous side in me.

I miss the places we would go, the people who tagged along for all those rides, and how there was always an element of unpredictability with you.

You were the first one I met, and though I was a bit rusty at the introductions, you became a comfort and familiarity....amidst the arduous demands of grad school, late nights out with fun friends, men who have come and gone, and the hardest job of my life before the crack of dawn.

You were there, a witness to the memories. Sometimes even my muse.

You're like a lover I don't want to miss because of my tendency to dismiss all those idiosyncrasies that made you a jerk.

But L, once in awhile,

I can't help myself from thinking about you like this, longing for more bittersweet experiences together.

Anti-NYR

I've always loathed the stereotypical New Year's Resolutions, what I consider a last ditch (or first ditch?) effort for most individuals to convince themselves that they are more goal-driven and determined than they actually are the other 3/4 of the year. You know the people I'm talking about.....the ones who vow to join a gym and boast about how they're going to lose weight and/or buff up in the next 6-12 months.

January at the gym is hell because of those jerks, taking up extra space in what used to be your parking spot and your workout space inside the gym. January is the month where everyone appears to be motivated, inspired, and striving for their utmost desires. Sliding into February, it is the rest of us that remain. Thankfully. I can once again park in a convenient spot and not have to push my way through the New Year's Resolution dropouts. Although I mock NYRD, I am thrilled they are so predictable because it gives me more motivation and incentive to relentlessly pursue my anti-NYR goals with reckless abandon. All. Year. Long.

Sure, some goals might be easier and/or more fun (ie, feel less like "goals" and more like wants/mere desires), but it is what keeps me going the whole year. It's like a competition, me against myself....maybe with a few friends along the way. Here's a taste of what I would like to accomplish, kick ass at, enjoy, savor, get overly excited about, be, do, see, hear, taste, touch, and any other insanely ridiculous description for what I'd like to experience this year. In no particular order...


1. Write here more regularly.
2. Go on photography adventures, particularly exploring sights with other fun and adventure seeking photographers.
3. Run my very first 5K in February!
4. Read workbook on starting my own private practice and try some of the suggestions offered in the book.
5. Continue sculpting into a leaner, fit body (including dropping at least two clothing sizes by the end of 2011).
6. Visit friends in Chicago for a week in March.
7. Meet/visit Josh in Florida in May.
8. Refrain from using a credit card at all this year and decrease credit card debt/bill.
9. Renew passport and go to Canada with friends.
10. Warrior Dash in July!
11. Trip to Mt. St. Helens
12. Trip to the Portland coast
13. Social time with people (ie, spend less time alone/doing things by myself)
14. Be a confident, fun "player" if I must continue online dating. haha
15. Go camping and/or hiking at Olympic National (Hoh) Rainforest.

If you weren't you

I kept thinking about you, that one conversation sinking in my mind as I went through the motions of my day.

I played the what-could-have-beens and what-ifs in my head.

What if you weren't you?

What if all the shitty things that happened to you made you this endearing and perfectly flawed person?

You're the one that pisses me off (but not for long) and drives me crazy (always), the one that appreciates intellectual stimulation, the one with whom I enjoy witty banter, the one who makes me laugh, and you're the one I wish could see yourself as I see you.

Half the time I don't understand you, can't figure you out.

Drawn to your battle scars, made privy to your inner sanctum....

You never bore me. I come back for more, as do you with me...for the same reasons?

And in those moments where I've resigned myself to taking your words at face value, you show that rare softer side.

I like you most when you're raw and real in all your messed up, beautiful glory.

The side you hide is the one that I most want to see, and I savor it like it's a present you've saved just for me....or so I tell myself as I smile and think about all those things you just said.

Things on the precipice of your thoughts, your tongue, your heart. You.

The you I wouldn't know, wouldn't see, wouldn't admire

...if you weren't you.

What determines where we live?

From birth to 11 years of age, I lived in New Hampshire. My stepdad at the time then moved us to Chesapeake, Virginia because of his job; I spent 5th-7th grade in this state. Then my stepfather got a more lucrative job offer, which had us move to the Houston, Texas area.

I went to high school in a snobby, boring suburb of Houston, spent my freshman year of college at Univ. of South Florida in Tampa (my father had resided in Florida since I was about 3 years old), went back to aforementioned suburb for a year at the community college because it was cheaper, then transferred to Texas State University in the hill country (near Austin, TX) to finish my last two years of college with a BA degree. In total, I spent 7 years in Texas and a one year stint in Florida. After college, I didn't know what the hell to do with myself. Graduate school had not been on my priority list. At the time, I had this idealistic notion that the world was my oyster and I would land a full-time job that would allow me to utilize my BA in Psych degree.

My mom and stepdad had divorced. My mom had met someone else (now my current stepdad) and they (along with my brother A.) had moved to Reno, Nevada shortly before I graduated college in Dec. 2000. Since I had no family around in Texas anymore (and never cared much for the state, sans the liberal area of Austin), I had no desire to stay there. I had no money though, so I decided to move in with my family in Reno until I could land on my feet. There were no professional jobs for me and I felt stuck. As much as I loved the west coast and having the security/support of family, I didn't want to live there. It didn't feel like me, didn't feel like "home" or a place I could thrive. I started thinking about teaching English in a foreign country, maybe do the Peace Corps. I wanted to do something different, life changing, adventurous, or meaningful. I was so conflicted and overwhelmed by the possibilities. During this time of me trying to figure things out, my mom and stepdad weren't doing well financially (to put it mildly).

For a brief time (June 2001 to Dec 2001), I moved to Kentucky (where my stepdad is from) with my mom, stepdad, and brother A; things only got worse. I felt like I was on the threshold of hell. The most awful state I've ever painstakingly experienced....and to think I was only there for 6 months!

Perhaps though it was being stuck in that horrible environment that propelled me to something significantly better. It was then that I decided I needed to go to graduate school. It was my only chance for a greater life. I started looking for schools via online searches. I thought about Hawaii....seemed like paradise, but also too expensive and maybe too far/isolated from everyone else. I considered Colorado and San Francisco.

Then I stumbled upon Chicago, Illinois. A city and state I had never been, a place that had never entered into my mind until the day I came across a graduate school webpage. A few weeks after Sept. 11, 2001, I was attending an interview with the head of the marriage and family counseling program at Adler in downtown Chicago....the last part of the application process I had to complete. I was accepted. And I was scared shitless. I had never lived in a city so huge...and not knowing ANYONE. But I did it. I wanted opportunities and most of all (even though it may have been an unconscious desire at the time) I wanted to know what my life would be like with no one telling me what to do or influencing my decisions. Whatever happened in my life, it would be entirely of my own making and of my own volition....and that's exactly what happened, in various aspects of my life. I lived there from December 2001 to March 2008.

As much as I loved Chicago, I was getting that "stuck" feeling I experienced seven years prior. Chicago was too cold, too fast paced. It was fun for my 20's, but I wanted a different atmosphere and more opportunities as I entered my 30's. The west coast appealed to me....and when I found out my mom and a good friend of mine were interested in moving to Seattle, WA around the same time I was contemplating a move, I made the decision that's where I was going to go. Again, I had never been to Seattle...nor the state of Washington. I figured my bold move to Chicago served me well in the overall scheme of things, so surely WA would do the same. (I moved to Seattle in 2008, where I still currently reside.)

But what if each moving decision isn't comparable to the others?

As I reflect (and share with you here) on the various moves I've made throughout my life, I find myself wondering what drives us to move to a particular place....and furthermore, are those drives very different depending on our age and experiences we've had thus far?

How often is it about (seemingly) necessity vs. desire? How much does our emotional state at a certain point in our lives influence our decision making (ie, a belief or feeling that a move will make our lives happier, better, or more fulfilling in some way...even if this is a fallacy in hindsight)?

Do risk takers move more? Do some people hate where they live, but stay in the same area their whole lives simply because of convenience and proximity to family, friends,etc? How much do political leanings and economic factors effect whether to move (and where)? Culture? Weather? Population size? The "personality" and/or intelligence of a region? Educational and employment opportunities? Crime rates?

With so many factors to consider, which ones become the priorities towards a decision?

I realize there's no one particular answer, as every individual is unique in regard to life experiences and values. This is just something I ponder and find sociologically fascinating.

2010 compilation

Minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, split seconds. Years.

This year,

of Katie.

2010, a compilation of memorable moments and realizations:

Joined a gym and learned SO MUCH about fitness.

Lost 15-20 lbs and went down 2 clothing sizes

Realized I'm stronger (mentally and physically) than I tend to give myself credit for....

Pushed myself beyond my comfort zone....constantly, neverendingly

Took up a fun dance class that became a weekly addiction

Went snow tubing in the mountains

Visited friends in Chicago

Visited friends in Texas, including ones I had not seen in 11 years!

Survived getting sucked into a scary river current while floating the Comal with Heather

Curiously and voyeuristically attended SEAF

Had many a happy hour and bonding moments with SMH coworkers

Experienced a bonfire in the rain

Recruited more than a few friends and family to start watching my favorite show of all time (yes, I'm a nerd like that)

Had a brief stint in Florida to celebrate my Dad's retirement

Sun bathed my summer away at Alki Beach and Golden Gardens

Got hit on by a cowgirl while out dancing with June and Kristen, on a platform might I add (June: "Looks like you've made a friend" hahaha)

Expanded my knowledge of photography and collection of camera/photography gear

Became grateful for regular massages. How did I ever live without them before this year?!

Spent Thanksgiving with my Dad, brother, and stepmom for the first time in years

Survived two rounds of layoffs at work

Met new people

Got to know wonderful (and not so new) people even more

Helped host a friend's baby shower (which I've never done before), which turned out lovely.

Became more confident and less self-critical

Became disconnected from some individuals, became more closely connected to others

Surprised myself by reading books I didn't think I'd like

Played an INSANE amount of FB Scrabble games and improved my skills

Learned who and what I don't want in my life, as well as what I do want

Survived the dating battlefield that is online dating

Drove in snow for the first time

Searched for my writer's muse.....in hiding, but not dead. (*sigh of relief*)

2010?

Not a bad year. Not a bad year at all.

"An interesting life"

While visiting my dad and stepmom over Thanksgiving, my stepmom said something about how I've had "an interesting life." I can't remember what we were talking about that led up to that comment, but it was a nice compliment to get from her. I couldn't help, however, being both sad and happy at the same time. Happy that I've had some modicum of cool stuff to have experienced and tell stories about..... yet sad that the juicy, fascinating opportunities/experiences seem to be decreasing. My life has become....boring. When did that happen? I'm starting to wonder if this is why I rarely write anymore. Nothing intriguing or inspiring to write about.

When I was in my 20's, the world felt like my oyster. I was scared shitless when I moved to Chicago, but it was a pivotal turning point in my life....the Katie that took risks, adventures, and pushed beyond her comfort zone. I met people at school, at work, randomly online, randomly in coffee shops or bars, and through friends of friends. It felt effortless. I worked at a bookstore that included getting to work book signing/celebrity events. I worked at a methadone clinic helping hardcore heroin addicts try to overcome their nasty addictions. Through these experiences, I found myself always thinking about something and having a constant craving to write about experiences, ideas. There was a time I was writing daily. I had something to say on a regular basis, sometimes it was even inspiring or thought provoking.

What I don't understand is how different my life feels a decade later. It depresses me. Mainly because I feel like I'm in a world of neither here nor there. There's a part of me that loves the fun I had in my 20's, yet has different interests and priorities than I did back then. At the same time, I look around me and the majority of my family and friends are married (and now with children). I'm struggling to find meaningfulness in my life outside of work. The weekends come and go, most of which I spend by myself. No one really calls me or genuinely shows an interest in hearing what's on my mind (and there's SO much on my mind, if people only knew). Even when I spend time with others, most times I don't feel like they really see or hear me. It's more what I can do for them. It's hard to find someone who will genuinely listen, someone who really wants to know me on a genuine and deeper level. I feel completely disconnected from any intimate relationships.

I've never been so conscious of my singlehood as I am in my 30's. I am starting to hate being alone all the time. I am lonely. My birthday is in a few weeks and I'm not even looking forward to it....

When is it going to be my turn? Will it ever be my turn? I really don't understand. I'm pretty amazing, if I do say so myself. I'm pretty. I'm smart. I'm independent. I'm kind and caring. I'm witty. I'm friendly. Granted my life feels boring at the moment, but I blame this pretty much on the fact that Seattle makes it difficult for me to be the kind of social butterfly I was able to effortlessly be in Chicago. I wish I knew what to do to make my life interesting again. Do I need to move back to Chicago to get it back?!

I know I can't change anyone except myself. I'm just melancholy that I've tried so hard with making changes in my life this year and there's no one in this city with whom I can share it (friends and/or boyfriend).

I miss the feeling of being special to someone. I also miss the feeling of someone really wanting to know what I think about something. I'm still the ever intellectually curious person who just needs some inspiration and very much needs her 'interesting life' back.....

You three with me

Relentless yet futile are my efforts, I hope you will one day see
The effect you men have on me when I go out of my way to be

....the parent, roles reversed
Will it always be this way?
Is awareness enough or am I truly cursed?
I yearn for the day
It doesn't feel rehearsed

....the friend, years pass and I still can't figure out
Why I care as much as I do
The scare only gave me more doubt
Made it quite clear to you
I'm your friend to the end...that's what I'm about
But what you feel for me I haven't a clue.

....the one for you, you're my ideal
Wish I could turn back time
If we'd met years before now, it could have been real
Friends and lovers, a passion sublime
Instead I feel shitty for wanting to steal
Your heart's not mine...feels like an emotional crime
But can I heal?

You three with me.

You three with me.

Therapist to therapy?

Every so often (increasingly so lately) I contemplate whether to seek a therapist and start my own process of psychotherapy, especially the more I talk to my my coworkers about it (one of which told me today that every therapist should/would greatly benefit from having their own therapy). The more questions that flood my mind, however, the longer it takes me to make a decision....

I've been in therapy, but not since I've actually become a therapist myself. I've often wondered what it would be like to be on the other side of proverbial couch/chair, wondered mainly if it would feel any different or better than my experiences as the client throughout my childhood and adolescence. I vaguely remember my mom taking me to see a counselor when I was between 8-10 years old. Looking back, I don't remember what I talked about with the counselor....but I do remember feeling comfortable and emotionally safe in the therapist's office.

I don't think I saw another psychotherapist again until I was in my late teens...a hypnotherapist actually. I think that was a one-time visit...hypnosis to help me work through a traumatic experience from my childhood that was still bothering me. I was skeptical at first, but it was quite powerful and helpful.

There was also family counseling in my teens and a few times in my early 20's, with my parents and stepparents. I absolutely loathed the family counseling sessions. I always felt more angry and frustrated after a family therapy session than I ever did before stepping into the therapist's office. I never felt heard or understood. I was the 'scapegoat.' It was like one big bitchfest, going around in circles arguing with no resolution.

I had my share of shitty therapy experiences (ie, family counseling) and yet instead of turning me off to therapy, it steered me in the direction (ie, MA degree in Marriage and Family Counseling) of wanting to help people with the very issue no one could help me (in an intelligent and compassionate way) during those years. I remember one time a therapist even subtly questioned my sexual orientation simply because I wasn't dating anyone. Really?!

I've always been one (from a very early age) to overanalyze, question everything, reflect, stretch myself to learn/grow and aim for self-awareness...to reach my full potential. Fortunately for my nerdy and curious personality, I've become my own therapist in some ways by reading things or pushing beyond my comfort zone with situations that are conducive to awareness....to change things about myself that are keeping me stuck. Most of the time this has been tremendously beneficial to me. With where I'm at in my life right now though, I wonder if I need more than that.

Not too long ago I asked one of my clients how she would know when she was done with therapy (ie, how would she know that she was better/reached her potential and thus not need therapy anymore). Her response? "When I no longer need to ask a question that I wouldn't ask a friend." There was something I found interesting and true about that response. I find myself contemplating this, yet on the other end....do I need therapy because I have questions that I can't ask (and get insights/solutions from about my problem) a friend? Maybe. Do I have a need to divulge some issues that are troubling me on a regular basis that I can't figure out how to change? Absolutely.

I have made positive changes in myself this year of which I'm proud and confident. A part of me wants to go even further with this possibility of therapy, yet another part of me is hesitant. What if no matter how much self-awareness I have and how much effort I put in to change my men/relationship/heartache challenges....and I'm still in the same boat (single and alone) as I am now?

My biggest concern is disappointment....disappointment that perseverance won't bring me any further to a better place than not trying.

Is it better to try therapy with the possibility of no positive tangible results? Or is it better to keep questioning things and doing the best you can with no help from anyone (ie, no therapist) other than your own self-improvement sensibilities?

Hmmm. Decisions, decisions (says the therapist to herself)....

The influx of change

It's one thing to hear cliches about change (ie, "The only constant is change," "We are creatures of comfort/no one really likes change" or "Even positive/exciting changes can be scary")....but it's far more difficult to embrace when you're actually living and breathing said change (and multiple changes at that!) in your day to day life. I have found myself coming up with my own 'mantras' to help me cope (see below), as there have been numerous changes going on at my workplace in the span of one month's time!

Here's 'a taste' of the changes: Significant increase in caseload, less time to see clients more frequently for counseling because there's too many clients to juggle, program manager and supervisor retired, no boss yet, a colleague left/took a new job, a new outside consultant to do more intensive case conceptualization/supervision with us therapists, and a restructuring of counseling programs (ie, program I'm in will be split into two programs and this includes not working with a few of my coworkers anymore once the split officially happens). I can't remember a time I have ever felt this many huge changes going on simultaneously.

We (human beings) resist change so much, sometimes even going so far into denial as to believe "People don't change" or "As much as things change, they stay the same." While this can certainly apply, I see more change than I do stagnancy. Granted, it's not always HUGE changes like the aforementioned work transitions I just mentioned that are going on in my life....but change is there if you have a keen awareness to pick up on the subtleties.

There's the "it happened so suddenly!" changes, the "I see it slowly coming, so I'm going to try and prepare for it" changes, the "I'm ready to/will change this....but not change that just yet" changes, and the "I know things are going to change, but I don't want to think about it right now" changes. Even feeling "stuck" or "resistant" is just a way to help give us more time to think about it. Maybe it's not about being lazy, fearful, or not wanting to change. Given that change is inevitable, sometimes we just need that 'brainstorming' time or time to 'just be' in the moment. Or time to reflect on how change will create a new life, identity, or way of being.

Interestingly, going through change oneself can also impact the dynamic between what you 'role model' to others (ie, practice what you preach....for me it's in the form of my being a great, effective therapist with my clients). In a weird way, the work changes have brought me 'closer' to my clients....an understanding and compassion for their own anxiety about how to work through stuff and their process of change, as well as having compassion for myself as I practice grounding myself and helping them by also helping myself from a place of peaceful calm.

What else helps get me through the influx of change? Every day one or more of the following statements come to my mind:

"One day at a time."
"Breathe"(followed by me taking in deep breaths)
"This will get easier/won't last forever."
"Easy does it."
"Just do what you can; there's no rush to do everything today."
"Take pleasure and gratitude in the simple things that make you laugh, smile, and that give you the endurance to keep going during this hard stuff."
"Rest and slow down if you're tired."
"Remember, you are making a difference with the work you do...even if the intensity of your therapy work with trauma survivors is rarely acknowledged/seemingly appreciated."
"Self care, self care, self care."

I also keep coming back to this amazing quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson:
"What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us."

Absolutely.

The psychology of dreams

Dreams have long fascinated me. I remember in my pre to early teen years, I had this recurring dream about being inside of a building (usually a grocery/convenience store and one time it was a car dealership) and knowing that it was about to get robbed. It wasn't a recurring dream in the sense that it was the same exact dream, but more so the same theme/feelings I felt and similiar subjects/scenarios going on. It still piques my curiosity to this day what those dreams were about. If only I had kept a journal and recorded what was going on with me at the time, maybe I could have truly analyzed what those recurring dreams were all about. (They were the only recurring dreams I have had in my lifetime thus far, hence why I wish I could figure out the meaning, haha)

I've been pondering dreams quite a bit in the past few weeks, particularly after having a dream about a friend of mine. There were actually several random people (including a few other friends) in the dream, but what stood out to me was my friend Scott. In "real" life he has short hair and is pretty much a tshirt and jeans kinda guy. In this particular dream, he had long bushy spiral curled hair that extended down to his waist. He had 60's style/psychedelic spectacles on and looked like a hippie character out of the movie "Almost Famous." In the dream I remember thinking, "Is that Scott?! That guy doesn't look like Scott....but I know it's him because I recognize his face is the same." The only thing that would make that moment more perfect is if I could somehow photograph the 'scene.' How awesome would it be to be able to actually record our dreams (whether as a 'movie' or a photograph)?! Who knows, the way technology is progressing....maybe one day it will be a reality!

I told my friend about this dream and from there a conversation ensued about the unique aspects of dreams. Dreams that later give you those deja vu moments in waking life....dreaming from different angles/perspectives (like flying in dreams, dreaming in first person vs. third person, or dreaming from the perspective of an animal).

Before learning more about the intricacies of dreams in some of my grad school classes, I had not realized just how many possibilities there are for what a dream can actually 'look like.' For instance, some people are more apt to dream in black and white (particularly those serving in the military or people who have to tendency to think in a linear fashion) than color. Then there are those who dream in a language different from their waking life.

It also didn't occur to me until now that not everyone dreams from the first person. I've never seen myself in a dream because I'm either there "participating" in the dream (feeling like the dream is actually 'real life') or it feels like I'm watching scenes from a movie with other people in my dream in which I'm not "there." It makes me wonder how many people dream from the third person. What's that like?

Aloneness and the 'invisible'

Loneliness and aloneness may not necessarily go hand in hand. You can be alone and content. You can also be lonely and disappointed in a room full of others...or in a particular relationship. I don't know about anyone else, but when I was younger (and less wise than I am now) I falsely believed that the opposite of aloneness was the key to love and happiness....that in togetherness there could be no loneliness. So why is it that as an adult I see more loneliness connected to relationships than to being alone? Is it because society wants us to hold on to these skewed beliefs and keep us dependent on relationships to falsely 'fulfill' our wants and needs? I partially think so. But to what extent are our wants and needs truly being met when it comes to relationships vs. in aloneness?

The media, the government, religious dogma, and other social institutions indoctrinate us into believing that you cannot do it (ie, live your life) alone....and if you do, it will be a long and difficult ("lonely") road. As someone who lives her life 'alone,' I can attest it can be more difficult in some ways....BUT I also must add that I feel less loneliness by myself than I feel when interacting with or having relationships with others. It may sound strange, but the loneliness I feel when I'm in some way 'invisible' to a friend, family member, lover, or colleague is incredibly stronger than any kind of loneliness I could feel sitting in my apartment in my own company. What do I mean by 'invisible?'

"Invisible" is when you are communicating with or in the company of a friend, family member, lover, or colleague and not once in your interaction were you asked (from a place of thoughtfulness or meaningfulness) how/what things are going on in your life, your thoughts or feelings (about anything really), or your own wants and needs in life. "Invisible" is when the other person talks and talks and talks (usually about him/herself), not giving you a chance to contribute to the conversation or steer the conversation to something more worthwhile. "Invisible" is something I feel when others don't notice when I drop off the radar from time to time (ie, when I don't post anything online, call, or text). "Invisible" is incredible loneliness I feel when I'm upset and want to find comfort in a conversation with a friend, but the friend doesn't return my call nor comprehend the depths of my emotional pain to even bother responding. "Invisible" is how I sometimes feel being surrounded by people who are married and/or who have children when the spotlight is on married and family life (there's no opportunity to be in the spotlight when you're a childless, single woman in her 30's).

No matter how much quantity time we may spend with others we care about, how much of that time do we really see or take the time to really know (and furthermore, understand) the other person? How much of our conversations embody genuine intimacy, a peek into the essence of our deeper selves? When it is intimate, how often is there opportunity for the intimacy to be two-sided (both individuals getting a chance to share something about themselves)? It seems like there's too much 'blah, blah, blah' and superficial chatter. Most people have no problem 'taking' in their relationships, yet few can master the art of giving and listening.

As long as this continues to be the norm, I will continue to prefer being alone to being in the company of any lonely (aka "invisible") relationship.

PS....I absolutely love this video "How to Be Alone." This sums up (to me anyway) the positive aspects of being alone, perfectly and succinctly.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k7X7sZzSXYs

To have or not have children?

You may recall a few months ago I wrote a blog about post-partum friendships (ie, how my friendships with friends have changed since they've become mothers). Well, this blog is a followup/sequel to that blog. I've had all sorts of thoughts running through my mind since I took a trip last week to see a close friend of mine (who is now a mom to a 10 month old).

It's one thing to intellectualize a concept; it's quite another to observe or experience it firsthand. While I once appreciated when friends would candidly tell me their pregnancy and motherhood experiences (the good, the bad, the ugly, and even the gross), I now am starting to resent knowing more than I want to know. "Why's that?" you're probably wondering. Well, as the cliche so succinctly puts it....Ignorance can be more blissful. The more I know about what comes with parenthood, the less appeal it has for me.

Up until a week ago, I never thought about whether or not I would have children someday. Let me rephrase that. I can't remember there ever being a time when I asked myself if I didn't want to be a mother at some point in my lifetime. I blindly accepted that as something I wanted for myself without ever really thinking deeply about all it entails.....especially those first 12 months of the child's life. What's funny is that the last few years I have been worrying about my biological clock, wondering how much 'time I have left' to find the guy and then create the kid. Now that anxiety seems to be disappearing....

While staying at my friend's house for 5 days, I witnessed two very sleep deprived, loving and nurturing parents as they tended to their 10 month old son's various needs. I got tired just watching them! I honestly wondered how they could do it....24 hours a day, 7 days a week. I realize it takes more work in the beginning because a baby is totally dependent on you for everything, but it really had me wondering if I could (or would really want to) make that kind of lifetime commitment/responsibility. I know there are amazing things to parenthood, so I'm not bashing it or anything. I just don't know if it's for me. Or maybe I would feel differently if I had a great husband to share the parenting. It's just hard to conceptualize. Then again, maybe I'm wasting my time.

Maybe it's futile to intellectualize the experience of being a parent because if all human beings did so, the human race might not continue reproducing at all. haha. I don't know. All I do know is that whenever I find the right guy out there that I'm meant to be with for the long haul, I don't want to rush into having a child and 'lose' my significant other before I ever really had him. There are things I want to experience with Future Husband (for instance, traveling together around the world comes to mind as one example) that would be difficult to do with a child in the picture. Perhaps I may decide to be a mother one day, but I also may not.

What I've gleaned from my recent experience with my friend and her 10 month old child is that I don't have to buy into what everyone else is doing just because they're doing it. I can have my own perceptions and realizations, my own desires. I can come to my own conclusions...even if that means following the beat of a much different drum...just doing my own thing. Whatever that may be at the moment.

A 'death' I could never stop grieving

Tonight I came across an article that troubled me....although it wasn't the actual subject matter that bothered me; my concerns ran deeper. As I read about Barnes and Noble's recent decision to "put itself up for sale" this month, I nearly cringed when I saw this sentence: "My hunch is that B&N never really embraced the Internet or e-books, tied as it was to the old-fashioned world of physical books and stores."

I could care less what happens to a corporate bookstore, but what I do care about is the future of 'physical books.' My concern is that with such rapid advances and trends in technology, there may come a day when physical books become obsolete. And if that day comes, that may bring with it a grief I may not be able to bear.

This may sound bizarre to most people, but books are more than just mere physical objects to me. I have a relationship to books that few people could probably understand.

From a very young age, I spent a considerable amount of time occupying myself with books. While I couldn't always count on people, books were one of the few constants in my life. I knew I was loved....but my family members always had so much going on with their lives that oftentimes I felt invisible. Books were a friendly comfort and escape from the loneliness I felt so much of the time (Interestingly, both my grandfather and my mother loved books/reading.....so in a weird way, I also felt a little more connected to them with this shared passion.)

With books, I could dive into a whole other world of people, places, and possibilities. I could pretend I was the center of attention. I could be the heroine. I could empathize with the characters and their struggles. Sometimes it even seemed like a book was specifically written just for me, as if the writer could somehow get inside my head like no one in my 'real life' ever could.

If you were to ask me about a particular book I've read, most of the time I can recall a very vivid memory attached to the book....whether that be where I was while reading a particular book, a book reminding me of a particular person/relationship or time in my life, what year I read the book, what was going on in my life at the time while reading the specific book, and my interests/curiosity (in life, genres, topics/issues).

Throughout my life, books have been an extension of myself....my personality, my identity. They are a reflection of the very heart and soul of me. They have also been my closest and dearest companions. With books, I feel connected to myself and the world at large more than I ever have with just people or words on a computer screen.

Online books don't provide meaningfulness, symbolism, or unique memories. You can't smell the newness or oldness of an online book. You can't touch the pages and take a trip down memory lane in your mind. You can't place it on your real bookshelf. There's just something very sacred and intimate about 'old fashioned' books.

If there's ever a day in the future where 'real' actual books become obsolete, I don't know that I would be able to handle it....a 'death' I could never stop grieving.

Opening Up (book review)

Working in the counseling profession, I wanted to learn/educate myself on the topic of open relationships (something I knew hardly anything about), so I decided to read "Opening Up: Creating and Sustaining Open Relationships" by Tristan Taormino.

While it was challenging for me to wrap my head around some of the complex issues connected to the subject of open relationships, I found this book to be articulately well-written and informative. I learned quite a bit and it challenged me to examine negative assumptions (based on my ignorance) I previously held about this particular subject. I still don't understand it completely, but this book helped me to know what it entails and how to help others (such as my clients) explore if it is a lifestyle they wish to pursue for themselves.

Totally recommend this book to clinicians in the counseling field, as well as the everyday person who wants (or is curious about) open relationships. Having an open mind, however, is essential to reading this book. Prepare for your preconceived cultural perceptions of monogamy vs. nonmonogamy to be questioned, maybe even shattered...