Mindfulness Lessons from a Broken Trash Can

I broke my kitchen garbage can the other day. The can – this one – has a pedal that one must depress with their foot to open the lid. Below the pedal is a stabilizing metal bar that keeps the can from toppling forward when in use. The stabilizing bar is what broke…again.

This is supposed to be the trash can that can survive an apocalypse. The first time it broke was late last year and we chalked this up to a faulty mechanism or bad design. “Is nothing made as it used to be?” we wondered once again, lamenting for those good old days that were neither good nor long enough ago. We both turned into MacGyver, turning the can over, and assessing the situation. A strong adhesive to glue in the corners of the stabilizing metal bar and plastic fittings was completed. Crisis averted? Or, just delayed?

Last week, while depressing the foot petal to raise the lid, I heard that telltale sound of a crack to the stabilizing bar. Recognizing the sound, I stopped to check my own behavior, or to check in with myself. (This is new – paying attention. My ADHD internalized so much!) I’ve become more aware of my own participation in life and “things”, and my tendency to shove everything into an external blame situation. My mind began with “what a piece of crap” and stopped mid-thought with a new idea. Instead of blaming the poor kitchen receptacle that just sits in judgment of me, was there something I did that contributed to it breaking? Did I press too hard with my foot? (Enter sense of shame.) Just how sensitive is this thing anyway? (See, the habit is a hard one to break!)

That was when I recognized the issue I needed to handle was not about the trash can at all. In fact, it is the same issue with a new and exciting flavor: mindfulness with a dash of presence. Or, how can I get more out of my head. I’m being guided and shown this idea in a variety of situations. (Yes, guided. More on that topic to come.) Situations that are a lot more serious than a broken piece of a garbage can.

I learned that, in caring for my dying mother, the responsibility was so tremendous, and I felt honored and humbled by the turn of events. My sister and I took extra care of her, cleaning her, reading to her, talking to her, and ensuring her comfort… just like when she did for us as babies. We kissed her, loved on her, and tried to be the best daughters to the best mother in the world. This required my full attention and presence. When I was distracted, I effortlessly pulled my focus back to my mother. This was a life and death situation and needed me totally aware so the correct decisions were made. Since then, my husband and I also cared for our dying and much beloved dog, Toby, which was also an honor of a different kind – yet, it taps the same feelings of love and protection but with differing angles. In caring for Toby, I found myself becoming angry at “having to do” and did not like the feeling at all! I didn’t understand these emotions as they felt disingenuous and conflicted with my heart. These new emotions did not honor nor represent my feelings for my beloved miracle pet and felt just wrong. So, instead of squelching this into some new package, I felt the emotions. These were sadness, loss, grief, and a sense of loneliness – and the same emotions I felt in processing these losses. What was I to learn by these events?

What changed in both of these situations was me: my mindset of gratitude and acceptance of both the situation and myself. I allowed myself to feel these emotions in a more healthier way. I cried, hugged, cooked, cleaned – all the physical things to make my body as tired as my mind felt. Sleep and distraction were also my friends along with a dose of “pulling myself up by my bootstraps.” Such a difficult yet educational time in my life that I’m glad I learned something from these situations!

Now, back to the can. I accepted that I heard a crack and that I had once again broken the can. Stopping mid-stride away from the can, I began to assess just what happened. Being in the present moment – or being mindful of this moment – was key for me. The crack of the can brought me out of a state of unawareness and into a present sense of reality. The ideas of being mindful and being present are issues I have been working on in myself for a while now through a program of meditation. You see, my particular brand of ADHD is dreamy and very internal. I can drift off in my mind to some other place and am not be fully present during a conversation. Usually something said will trigger something in my brain and I get transported to another place. Trauma meets ADHD – or life floating on a cloud. Sounds nice, right? Not really. In serious conversations, I would frequently lose the thread of the conversation. I used to try and engage the speaker so I could grasp this weakening conversation thread only to interrupt the speaker and distract them in the same way that I was also distracted. Then, because I was very good at recovery (practice makes perfect), I could interject a few words here, sound amazing, and the speaker would just be left confused.

This is a key aspect of my brand of ADHD and my neurodivergent brain –or my personal superpower. It is a learned response and not necessarily a good one. I can mentally travel years in a single second! Forward or – sometimes in reverse. Yet, my memory is for shit. During these times – it’s not always – I would be yelling at myself for this habit, chastising myself for being selfish or standoffish, and not even having a correct recollection due to my own distraction! (Imagine living in THAT place?) “Why can’t I pay attention?” I’d lament to myself. “How…” insert label here “…stupid/dumb/ugly/fat/awful/mean…..are you? You name it, I’ve called myself this name. Many times over. Thinking this was abnormal and that I was broken. Yes, maybe this isn’t normal but it is MY normal – and I have a legitimate physical reason for the behavior. I’m not stupid/dumb/ugly/fat/awful/mean for this.

Today, I am in a place of acceptance. I’m not selfish or standoffish – as my mother used to say to me. I’m DISTRACTED by my own thoughts that are now layering in yours and getting all jumbled up and confused. Sometimes I need to stop and re-frame my thinking – and ask for time needed to ‘catch up’ or for someone to repeat themselves. This can be very difficult for the person speaking and has caused troubling interactions and unintended offense. Today, I’ve learned that this tendency originates from a neurodivergent brain. This diagnosis gave me the ability to accept ADHD as part of me, an explanation for certain behaviors. This is not my entire identity but gave me greater awareness and, thus, the ability to create positive behavior strategies.

Or, I stopped trying to ‘fix’ myself. I am accepting my mental dreaming as part of my own personal human uniqueness. This is why the ADHD diagnosis is so important. It explained so much and gave me the ability to accept what is and without the condemnation of self. This wasn’t a behavior problem to be solved. My issues were my natural coping mechanism and my ability to focus and be present.

I began to see the trash can more as a mirror for me to recognize that I was doing something wrong. No, wrong isn’t quite correct. That is my old self talking. Today, I’m doing something out of congruence with my feelings. Self-acceptance is very powerful and a key tool for me. What am I being told by the breaking of the stabilization bar? Well, obviously I’m using too much pressure on the can with my foot.

So, instead of complaining about the can or being angry at something breaking, I became curious. Why is the pressure I’m using breaking this can feature? Is it my superhuman foot strength that has never been in evidence before? Should I take my newfound strength to the NFL as a field goal kicker? I must be really strong, no?

No.

A fun and meandering argument with myself takes me out of the shame loop and gave me space between thoughts. This was when I realized I was needing be be more mindful and see the situation in the moment. Here is what happened: Instead of stopping and opening the lid with my foot, I walked towards the can mid-stride to open the lid while simultaneously walking away from the can. Economical, aren’t I? I “walked” by the can to open the lid while on my way somewhere else. This caused too much pressure to be used. Or, I was too busy just to stop and use the garbage can. Isn’t that something of a realization? Too busy to focus on pressing a pedal with the correct amount of pressure.

Trust me, I never, ever want to be that busy. The idea of slowing down, paying attention to the pressing of the foot pedal, raising the can lid within a state of mindfulness was appealing to me. I wasn’t sure why and I had to think on this point. Why does the idea of slowing down appeal to me? The idea reminded me of Aki and his content created on YouTube in his Samurai Matcha channel. He has a video linked here that I have watched a few times on cleaning. These are not “how to” videos but “why” and, importantly, how one engages their mind in the physical act of cleaning. I had not done this in my kitchen cleaning duties. Aki has had quite a few physical challenges of late where mindset has been key. His ideas of cleaning translated to mindfulness in very serious health situations, too. Just how powerful is this idea?

Once again, back to the can. I realized that I was not being present or mindful in my cleaning activities as Samurai Matcha recommends. Apparently, I automatically labeled my situation in my head as a chore or being mundane or unimportant. These ideas are what caused me to gloss over the moment and seeking the important things outside of my current activity – or increased my distraction. If I see the moment as unimportant, I am missing the joy of the activity. How can I see all moments as important? Well, one must first have the realization that they have not applied the most helpful mindset for this particular moment. I had not even realized that I had even labeled the idea of pushing the foot pedal as anything other than a chore on my way to something else. This slight cracking noise of the breaking connection totally took me out of the mental reverie I didn’t even know I was in because I was physically busy. Interesting idea.

One thing I’ve learned is that there is a lesson in most everything in life. So, I’ve stopped trying to actively change myself and am trying to become more of an observer. This is a struggle that I’m finding a constant yet rewarding battle with my ego. I’m doing OK. I do have certain behaviors that do not please me for any reason other than wanting to be happier. Mindfulness – or presence – in even the mundane can be a struggle. Sometimes, life throws an experience for you to learn the simplest of ideas – like a broken trash can. Being mindful feels like slowing down. Yet, is mindfulness truly slower? Or, our natural state. I like to think they are both the same thing.

Peace.

Navigating Your Dash: Finding Meaning in Every Moment

A friend recently told me that life is lived in ‘the Dash’ – or the line between your birth and death as written on one’s headstone. The Dash is the all-encompassing of living a life and not necessarily a life “well-lived”. What we do in “the Dash” really is all there is. The Dash is the realm of all possibilities, big and small. When we see life from the top down, like we are managing ‘the Dash’, the possibilities feel endless. However, when we look at life from within the Dash, do we really have the perspective we need? How much of “the Dash” is real and what is imagined by me as part of living my life?

I’ve been feeling of late that I need to get out of my own way as I navigate my Dash. After many years of working for someone else, my own creativity is now interrupting my ideas of what should be for me in retirement. What I didn’t truly understand is how my coping behaviors did not leave any mental space for any new ideas that might have helped shape a life. Many times, I see things that I’m hopeful for versus what truly is. Can a person have an imaginary Dash from reality? And, isn’t that also part of one’s Dash? Too many questions to answer – yet – I think I found my own personal answer. I love the idea of the possibility of a life that moves up and down around a centering thought of love and gratitude – and without judgment of self and others. This realization came from a recent experience and pointed to how I want to navigate my personal Dash.

Let me correct this: I don’t want to navigate my Dash. I want to LIVE my Dash. Feels different, doesn’t it? My first experience was amazing and I’m looking to bump along in my Dash from this vantage point. A vantage point that throws the idea of a random life out the window and where we institute a mindset that nothing is random and all is guided by our feelings and thoughts. Getting these (feelings and thoughts) correct is our Dash work. Here is an example:

I recently began working on jigsaw puzzles as part of my effort to be intentional with my time. Sitting with a puzzle piece, contemplating its placement on my landscape of colorful abstracts, slowed time down to a molasses-like pace. (Yeah, me!) This is key because, as a child, I struggled with sitting still and focusing on something like a puzzle. Or coloring book. The only way I would sit is if I was playing with my mother’s change because I was busy doing the addition and subtraction in my head. Until I began to play video games as an adult, I really couldn’t sit still as my brain always raced and propelled me to move. My job as an auditor was especially challenging and I became a master at distraction to hold my interest and focus. Many times, I would be found pacing or doing something totally inane to help me focus. My diagnosis last year of ADHD (Gray Ladies Unite) explained away many of the ‘crazies’ and I was finally capable of seeing my behavior as normal – for me – and be okay with the restlessness. This mental approval of myself had been what I was missing for my entire adult life; I’m not complaining for this way of self-berating behavior gave me this life I am now enjoying. I just now need to repair the toll of decades of self-judgment that was unchecked because this judgment made me successful. Part of that repair was embarking a self-discovery journey, including therapy.

As part of my retirement, I began a weekly ‘walking’ exercise in my town. Outside of our meeting area was a bookshelf containing books and puzzles for a causal exchange. I took my first puzzle earlier this year to try out my ability to focus and concentrate. The first few times were tough as I kept getting up to do something else – usually something needed cleaning. I became increasing frustrated and began to recognize that my need to get up and move was how I learned to cope with the restlessness.

Over a few months, I did quite a few puzzles, from nature scenes to country life. The ability to sit and understand the compulsion to always ‘get up’ and ‘do’ allowed me to now manage my mindset. What a shift! I began to seek out a new puzzle each week to practice sitting still and focusing. A few months ago, I was looking for a puzzle and just couldn’t decide. I turned my attention away from the shelf when a puzzle landed on my foot, opening up, and the contents (thankfully already placed in a slider storage bag) spilled out. This was near impossible because the puzzle almost had to be pushed to land in such a manner. The box is two inches thick and sturdy. To fall on my foot from three feet away, open up, and spill it contents was not normal. OK, Universe, color me intrigued. I was stunned to quiet which does take effort!

I picked up the puzzle and took it home with me like a secret treasure, a knowing. (No, it was a painting of a lighthouse on a cliff.) After completing the puzzle, I sat back and waited for lightening to strike, so sure that the epiphany would be immense. After all, the puzzle flew at me! (By the end of the story, this puzzle will have taken flight and baked cookies, too!) Of course, nothing happened. No magic realization, no immediate insight into the meaning of life. I really didn’t know what to think other than there was something to this puzzle. The next week, I found myself at the shelf where the puzzle was from last week trying to figure out what happened. In its place? A well-worn book called Awareness: Conversations with the Masters. Intrigued, I picked up the book and found it was written based on a retreat conducted by Anthony de Mello, a Jesuit priest. I set it back on the shelf thinking that I have read a lot of these types of books when it fell off the shelf and landed on my foot. “Just what is wrong with the shelf?” I wondered when I realized that this book was MY sign!! I snatched that book up and tucked it away into my things, now a precious gift.

I began reading the book that evening and enjoyed it so much that I purchased the audio to listen in the car. My place in the book I’m reading with my eyes is different than the audio book. I wondered when the two might align and if that would be an interesting point. And, yes, it was – and that is where I will leave this. This book just recognized how much of our life we create in our head versus what is truly real. De Mello believes that we just need to become “awake” or aware of what is real versus what is not real. (Believe me when we have a whole lotta junk that is not real. Just sayin’.)

The morale of my story is this: Let life unfold FOR you. The hard bits are also FOR you – to learn. The emotions are not easy but they tell a tale of how you see the world. The emotions point to something in YOU or how you are seeing or being in a situation. We cannot be made to feel an emotion by someone else. As a child, I did not understand that feelings are okay. It is a signpost of how you truly feel – like a gut reaction. If the feeling isn’t what you like or expect, examine it for what is there and place your own judgment aside. Open your mind and ask the harder question of yourself, without accusation. Take time to slow down and really be intentional. These feelings are guidance and can be changed. Think of it this way: When you love someone, you want to help them. Love your fellow human. Help them when you can. Love yourself too.

Peace.

Lessons from 2021 – March or how “ART” Reshaped My Perspective.

Art.

When a person mentions “art” or that they are an “artist”, many people have varying reactions. Some wonder how this “artist” actually makes a living. Or, some may believe that being an “artist” isn’t really a job. “Get a ‘real’ job” one may hear from time to time in their lives, especially if they identify as being an “artist.” Others may marvel at the simplicity of a life of creation. Some, like me, harbor a secret jealousy of also wanting to be creative but not believing I can be creative. (I mean, have you ever seen my sketches?) My post for this month is really what is meant when we say we love art, or that we are an artist, or, dare I even say it?

“I’m a ‘creative’. I’m an ‘artist’.

There. I said it. I’m an artist and a creative. I just cannot draw. Or paint. Or, sculpt. Hmmm. Another more positive way of putting this is that my creations just don’t capture what I see in my mind. You see, my hands just don’t seem to “see” my creations in the same way as my brain because my hands really don’t execute the vision all too well. My hands are very solid and have served my utilitarian needs quite well, of which I’m extremely thankful. They have not, however, been able to interpret just what my mind’s eye sees to be able to create the masterpieces I dream of. It all ends up in a mess on whatever I’m painting/drawing/sculpting…you name it. (It seems to all end up being ashtrays.) My hands just don’t really keep up with my mind’s eye of what I see.

I’m aware that reknowned artists had to also start somewhere. I’m sure their early works may have resembled some of my early works, too. They just kept being persistent in honing their skills whereas I just gave up, out of frustration. What drove these artists – painters, sculpters, mixed media professionals – to continue? How did they know they could achieve what was in their mind’s eye when the result differed? I think passion plays a part of an artist’s focus. Determination, too. The feeling of seeing your work expressed through your own eyes? Yes, check. These all amount to feelings, don’t they? Like an artist must feel their work, feel it bubble within them, on a basic cellular level. I just did not have these feelings for my own art as I was way too self-judgmental, a handy trait to have in business but not necessarily for a creative person. I think my mindset was more of a “Why let other’s beat you up when you are doing such a fine job of the task?” This is what art does – it creates an introspection of feeling and expression. Those feelings are what the art evokes and is why we all appreciate art because it makes us all feel….something.

I realized, too, that an artist is one who feels, and expresses this feeling through a concrete medium. Hmm. Another thought I had is that one can call themselves anything, can’t they? These are just labels that we’ve assigned to short-cut the mundane. If I really wanted to, I could call myself a brain surgeon. I would not be a very good brain surgeon, however, because I lacked the schooling and experience, and (let’s hope) I would not get hired by any medical establishment without this expereince. I can label myself as an astronaut who just hasn’t left the Earth except for some United Airlines flights across country. You see what I mean? If I label myself as something, I can adapt to that behavior. So, what happens when I’ve labeled myself as stupid or inept? These types of labels can be so ingrained that you may not even realized you’ve created and perpetuated these labels in simple ways, like forgetting to put your clothes in the dryer or making a driving mistake. These common occurences can result in an increase in our mental chatter that reinforces beliefs we don’t even know we had.

I’m a ‘creative’. I’m an ‘artist’.

Many times, these labels are so ingrained that they cease to be a cognizant thought; it just is. I realized that I love to write as a form of self-expression, and am beginning to journal as a daily mental resetting of my emotions. Creating beauty in my writing by sharing a feeling or fact or perception is art. Poetry is art in the written word. I’ve taken to writing poetry during extremely stressful times as a way of channeling my energy and processing my feelings. When my father died suddenly, I began a deeply personal journal of writing poetry as a cathartic exercise to help me process my grief. The experience was so overwhelmingingly human that I has helped me thrive while also expressing all of these feelings out of my body…and into the ether. At the same time, I was trying to handle a failing personal relationship. In a deeply personal moment, I read my poetry to my father’s body giving him a piece of me to take with him on his new journey, and I included my poetry in his casket for cremation, like a piece of my heart is always with him. And, THAT, is what art is: A piece of one’s heart.

When we think of art as self-expression, removing art from the classroom really takes on a new perspective, doesn’t it? If we don’t allow our children their own freedom of self-expression in the classroom, how to we allow them the grace of failure, of learning that it is safe to express yourself creatively, that the world is a tolerant place….oh….yeah. I remember that this is changing, too.

Have you noticed that the world is becoming much more judgmental as we become more familiar with each other using tools like the internet and social media? This can impact the safe space each of us, as human beings, deserve to be creative. Some of us (like me) must wait until mid-life before we feel safe in our own self-expression – or once you’ve taken the time to push past barriers that you created in your youth to come into your own passions. Many times, we see ourselves as having “jobs” as humans. No, not always a job-job, but we may see our roles in society very differently depending on our experience. It is the labeling that creates divisiveness and actually further divides humanity.

I am a ‘creative’. I am an ‘artist’.

In my personal evolution as an artist, I failed to consider that my ability to type 80 words a minute as an author is a key skill that some cannot do. My expression is just how my hands type these words, and how creative I can be with my formatting, use of media, and how my messaging is received. As an artist, however, the actual understanding of my art is outside of my control. The beauty of any art is that it is appreciated by others who may have had a similar journey. It is the appreciation of art that is key to life because, folks, art is life. I’ve never met a happy older person who spent their whole lives working for someone else in a job they hated. I have, however, met a lot of happier older people who consider themselves creative. So, after five decades on this planet, I’m considering myself as a creative person.

I’m creative. I’m an artist. (No more quotes. Just me.)

That’s all there is. Now that I’ve assessed these new labels to myself to wear for a while, I wonder how this feeling of self-belief and self-acceptance will feel in my daily life. How will my daily work impact my art? Everything impacts everything and, friends, don’t ever forget that your own perspective impacts everything, even your own labeling. Check out this very interesting TedTalk from Professor John Shaw (check out his bio on YouTube!) on labeling of people. Use this knowledge to your advantage. Be the artist (or doctor or lawyer or chef or janitor) and create a life for yourself that expresses who you are…or who’d you like to be.

Take a moment, in the now, to do one things towards that goal, like writing a blog post. Peace.

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