Oct 312022
 

The other day one of our friends told me as I was recounting our movements for the next few weeks that we were living a peripatetic lifestyle. I had never heard this word before, so they explained it to me. It’s true.

Beyond just our travels, we tend to live this kind of life because neither of us are cut out for “settling down” somewhere. I blame my early formative years on having a feeling of angst if I stay in one place for too long. I can stay within the same country for ages, but living in one place is strange. Also, I blame my parents (or father, really) for passing on the need for changing something whether it is a house or a car/truck. To be fair, they didn’t move around much once I joined the family until I had already left home. πŸ€ͺ

Similarly, M has his ADHD tendencies along with his general inclination to always be looking for the next “big” thing.

While I generally like stability, I also enjoy a sense of refreshment and the excitement that comes with the new. However, these days I think that my tolerance is lowering as along with the anticipation usually comes anxiety. It seems that middle-age for women also brings increased levels of anxiousness, which I really don’t need.

A former therapist introduced me to the concept of chronic anxiety disorder and how it can get absorbed into the body. I know that I probably suffered from it quite a bit when I was younger. I have developed reasonable and effective coping mechanisms to not let it overtake my life, but recently I have noticed that my “buttons” are more easily pushed so that the levels go up rather quickly. Sometimes it is just from driving in the small towns. Sometimes it is my husband’s temperamental mood swings. Sometimes it is not knowing where the pups are. Sometimes rational, sometimes not.

All this to say that my comfort with this peripatetic lifestyle may have a limited expiry date, but for the meantime, we have just returned from a great time in the UK. We are off this week to France and then to Milan just before I head State-side to see my family for the first time in far toooooo long!

I will try to keep updated here, but I make no promises. 😁

~T πŸ”₯πŸ‰β™‹οΈ

Oct 202022
 

**Warning: Possible TMI alert – blood and adult content to follow** πŸ˜›

It may have been the law of attraction. It may have been the Universe’s idea of a good joke. It may have been finally returning to regular yoga classes. It may have been a subconscious release.

Whatever it was/is, my monthly visitor — long dubbed Aunt Flo (AF) by me and BFF — has made an unexpected, and unwanted, return after teasing me with a ten-month hiatus.

Strangely, last month I noticed a spot of blood after a session of “sexy time” with the hubs, but just put it down to more than just the tip kind of after-effect. Then, I somehow came across a post or article earlier this month about how someone was in a similar situation – nearly a year in with no visits – when they went for a check-up and found that the cause of the stop was from PCOS. Upon treating the PCOS, her AF returned.

With a little help from Google, this could be me minus the obesity part as I would never call myself at any point in the last year or two as obese – slightly above average in body weight, but always manageable. However, a challenge with processing insulin (though not diabetic, but tingling in my limbs from too much sugar in alcohol or desserts is probably some kind of undiagnosed sign, right?), a noticeable increase in skin tags the last year or so, and having fibroids for years could definitely be contributing factors or reasons to believe I possibly fit this bill. So, having restarted regular yoga classes mid-September and adjusting my eating to include more fiber along with a regular intermittent fasting schedule, I imagine that AF deemed my body worthy for her return.

Although I am not particularly loving the leaky faucet that she has brought with her visit, there are some positives as I reflect on the bliss that her absence brought.

First, I used to always use her visits as a justifiable reason to take a day or two off each month to relax without any niggling voices in the back of my head trying to make me feel as if I should be doing more than lounging on the sofa watching my favorite CBS/Paramount+ crime series. While I have never been the type to beg off doing physical activity like sports, yoga, etc. due to AF, I have often been the type in my adult years to take “sick days” as mental health days to escape the daily routines and social expectations.

Lately, I have been noticing the challenge of losing weight that wasn’t there in my younger years. Although I am by no means a gym junkie or exercise fanatic, I do try to do targeted movement most days. This might mean a short walk through the fields with the pups. Or, a body weight training session. Most mornings, I was doing yoga in our bedroom — until I started taking regular classes again. Now and then, I might use an app to do a series of Zumba routines or cardio workouts. However, on those days when I didn’t do any targeted movement, I would feel as if I had let myself down. With the return of AF, that feeling is gone! πŸ˜‰

Then, there is food. I love food. I love to eat. Sadly, my days of eating an entire McD’s meal just before cleaning my dinner plate are pretty much over. My metabolism is still pretty good, but it isn’t that good anymore. So, when we don’t have guests we feel need feeding two or three meals a day, I eat a lot less and better. Intermittent fasting has become one of those buzz words and new diet trend, but it does work. Although it has a “fancy” term attached to it, basically not eating after 6pm or before 10am is not that much of a challenge, especially when eight of those 16 hours is during sleep. Doing this the past couple of weeks has brought my weight down slowly, but I believe healthily as it seems more likely to stay off this way.

So, with all of this combined, it does make sense that AF is back. I was not particularly excited about the idea of facing decisions around HRT or other forms of treatment that come with menopause. I had thought I had possibly got away without many negative side effects related to the transition, but alas – that still remains to be seen.

In any case, it could be worse to have my AF back. I’m not sure if she’s going to continue her regular visits or just drop in to turn on the faucet, then leave it to build back up again for another unknown period, but for now I’m going to enjoy a day or two of taking things a bit slower and not hearing any niggling voices at all.

Ah, the silence is beautiful. Now, back to my couch! πŸ€ͺ

~T πŸ”₯πŸ‰β™‹οΈ

Oct 182022
 

A common and fair question when we first meet people is to ask what one does – for work, for life, for whatever. For years, that was a safe and easy question to answer with no unintended nuances like ‘where are you from’ can hold. I knew how to answer it directly and, though, I rarely got more than an ‘I see’ when stating that I taught English as a second/foreign language, at least it was clear-cut and obvious.

These days, it is harder to give a plain response to this same question. Part of it is that we live in Italy on basically a retirement visa that means we cannot legally work nor earn income outside of a passive source like investments or pensions. Part of it is that I do a number of things.

Recently, I found myself saying first “Not much of anything”, but then upon a quick reflection I realized that was a lie. I actually do a lot of things. I just don’t know how to sum it up into an uncomplicated answer that most want to hear.

Up until recently, I was running an online platform – The Universal Asian -, which wasn’t breaking visa rules since it really made no income. It still wasn’t easy to explain what it was I did, but at least it had a tangible output that one could get their head around, i.e. I ran a website. I also do some paid freelance work that is perhaps technically breaking visa rules, but it cannot be directly tracked, so there’s that. However, what I mostly do is write.

So, I corrected my response to “I write.”

To that, I get a head nod; and then like when I used to claim teaching as my profession, the inquisitor moves on.

With others, when I have tested out such a response but with more detail like “I am writing a couple of books”, I get more interested expected return inquiries like “Oh, what are they about?”

Still, I suppose the real point is that I am not always certain as to what I DO.

It is a strange place in life these days as I feel far too young to be considered ‘retired’ and far too old to be in the peak of my profession – though I suppose I could have been had I stayed in education. Although many, including myself, would say it is not too late to reinvent oneself, I am still working on what that invention is meant to be.

I do appreciate that it is a kind of luxury to have such a challenge. However, I also acknowledge that it probably is not so uncommon for one, especially women, to ponder how to sum up what one does in life into a few comprehensible words.

It used to boggle my mind what a person does when they no longer commute to and from work, spend their days in the professional space, come home to family and dinner in the evenings, and spend weekends catching up on errands, house maintenance, and occasionally socializing with friends. I mean, that is what we consider a conventional, normal life, right? What else would we expect one to do, really?

Yet, I find that not only unsatisfactory, but also boring AF! I know – I apologize if that offends.

Now that my life is on more slow motion, I can reflect back. The truth is THAT was exactly the kind of life I did have – just in a different country. These days, my commute consists of bed to kitchen to desk via my slippered feet. My time spent in a ‘professional space’ is only determined by my mood, the length of my self-imposed todo list and motivation. My evenings are generally quiet with an early dinner usually made by my husband. Socializing, errands, and all the rest are done depending on my day, my mood, my motivation, and the like but never limited to weekends or holidays. In short, only a semi-tweaked version of the conventional and normal.

Yet, that little tweak makes me pause and question.

Perhaps, it is the off-handed statement directed at me by a certain someone – “I probably don’t respect or take seriously what you do.” Now, I know that sounds harsh. In his defense, he was somewhat joking and he wasn’t trying to be offensive towards me. It was just a thinking aloud comment that held truth. I personally was not upset by the words. Instead, I realized I probably felt the same.

As a holder of a master’s degree in teaching from a well-respected higher education institution, I felt purposeful in my explanation of how I pass my days. However, now as one who works on occasion, writes all the time but makes no income from it, I question my value. Society, and therefore most people, value our activities in life dependent upon the amount of money we make from time spent on something. Thus, there is less respect and seriousness surrounding the idea that one can spend time doing meaningful things that does not earn much income let alone no income at all.

Furthermore, it is not exactly as if we have no money woes (as you will know if you’ve been reading here for a while) nor that we have suddenly become filthy rich and thus the idea of making money is moot. However, it is exactly that we really don’t have much money woes and once our house is paid off, or at least a solution for paying it is sorted (nearly there), “we” make enough money to enjoy life fully. Therefore, my own income stream is for me alone.

So, if I choose to do those things that do not generate monetary value, does it mean that I actually do nothing?

Obviously, we want to say, “Of course not!” Angel voices might even raise fists of support to happily encourage a beating of the system shouting, “You go girl! Live your best life. Do what you’re passionate about.” Meanwhile devil voices might whisper the words of Emile Calvet, Megan Draper’s father in Mad Men, “…I see you skipped the struggle and went right to the end…it is not because someone else deserves it, but because it is bad for your soul…I hate that you gave up….”

So, I wonder, did I give up? Did I skip the struggle?

Or, was it that the struggle and process was just slightly tweaked from the conventional and normal?

Maybe, what I DO now is what I have always wanted to be doing and I’m just struggling to accept it as my new reality…?

~T πŸ”₯πŸ‰β™‹οΈ

Oct 132022
 

One of my favorite items to use in analogies is the sponge. It works on many levels – kids at about age eight are little sponges soaking up everything new with curiosity; pain can be absorbed like a sponge, but it doesn’t mean that it has left the body until you squeeze it out, but there will always be a little bit left; and, when we are oversaturated with something it is like a sponge that can no longer absorb any more liquid.

While I am very proud of the platform space that I envisioned and partnered with my lifelong adoptee friend to build in what it is now – The Universal Asian – I became oversaturated; and despite nearly four months being 95% away from it, I still find it doesn’t take much before my absorption capacity is full again.

There are plans for a leadership shift and the space will surely transform into its next version under the new leadership. I feel good about this move knowing that I will still get to benefit from its future success.

In the midst of my excitement to be a bit more free from the space, I eagerly brainstormed and put into motion the building of a writing program under the TUA umbrella. There has been some interest already and I am about 90% ready to start advertising, taking money (this time, my efforts will be paid for), and putting things into place. However, despite my keenness to get things going by this month, or at the latest, in November, I drug my feet.

Upon some reflection and reviewing of my actions, I realized that I am just not yet ready to dive back into regular contact with fellow adoptees and Asian-Americans. I’m not yet ready to be confronted with the struggles, anxieties, stresses, angsts, and all the other bits that have surrounded the uplifting of the Asian voice. It is most definitely NOT that I feel they shouldn’t be shared, expressed, and made public so that others can better understand the state of the Asian-American and adoptee psyche. It IS most definitely that I feel myself absorbing all of those energies to the point that I lose myself and become oversaturated by energies that are not mine.

So, I have compromised with pushing the start date to the new year. In the meantime, I will advertise and do the admin work to get people registered, paid, and ready to go with excitement as the new year begins. It also gives me more time and something to look forward to as I know that once I am in it, I will be loving it.

In the same vein, I recently had a really nice chat with a fellow adoptee. She’s a domestic US adoptee who is having her own awakening of her experience as an adoptee and in reunion. Thanks to her awakening, she has a fire kindling up to provide more education/information about the adoption system and how it affects everyone involved, but while keeping the adoptee as the central importance. I think it is a beautiful initiative and will do my best to support her.

Still, I found myself post-conversation wondering if my gut reflective reaction was because of my current precarious position of not wanting to absorb too much or because of already having absorbed too much. I realized that I had to talk myself out of an urge to step away from everything also related to adoption, even though I had already offered to help proofread, which I would do anyway as that’s my thing!

Eventually, I came to the conclusion that it’s just me reminding myself to be aware and be careful. I’m in charge of myself, my emotions, my well-being. So, with that, watch this space for me to see if I can avoid reaching the point of oversaturation.

~T πŸ”₯πŸ‰β™‹οΈ

Oct 112022
 

Ever since I was young I have had a thing for rearranging the furniture in my personal space. I did it frequently in my offices at work. I do it regularly in my bedrooms and most rooms that allow for the reconfiguration of movable objects. I attribute it to the fact that it makes me feel as if I have moved to a new “home” without having to go through all the pain and suffering involved in doing so. In a way, it is me taking advantage of the positive aspect of starting somewhere new.

When we first moved into our house a year ago, I had claimed one of the rooms as my office because it had great energy in it. However, it is dark and I realized it made a much better guest room than an office for me. Others would be able to benefit from the positive energy better than me – and most do. So, I moved my office space to the adjacent room, which is quite huge for an office, but it is feasibly one of the brightest rooms in the house with the windows and open area.

Despite the challenge of keeping warm throughout the winter, I really loved working in that room.

Then, summer came and so did all the visitors. It got to the point that I was rarely able to work in my “office”, so much to the chagrin of M, I moved my office to our bedroom as that was the one place where visitors would not need to infiltrate and we have more than enough space for it.

Although it is not perfect, it works until I can get a she-shed made outside of the house itself. Though I have already had two different configurations of the desks, I felt that with the changing season it was time to shake things up again. While I could move back into the previously large room, M reminded me of the chilly winter and admitted that he didn’t really mind my desks in the room. So, what else is a girl to do than to rearrange?

I usually have two considerations when I place my desks. One is to have a fairly decent background space for the video calls that I do. I feel there is nothing worse than white walls or a cluttered and distracting background. Even though I tend to blur it most of the time, one can still see the shadows and I like it to look pleasant.

The other consideration is that the non-computer and screen desk (yes, I have two) has a view out of a window for those moments when I need inspiration while writing.

However, thanks to reading Stephen Kings On Writing I learned that it might be worth a try to write with my desk facing a wall – still with the ability to look at the window now and then. Somehow, I have managed to make both of these considerations a reality.

Thus, my fall reshuffling is complete. The other parts of the house have remained untouched by moi except for finally getting the last of our boxes with books emptied and the shelf looking happy with the few books that I have managed to whittle my library down to since my move to mostly reading e-books.

With that, here’s to another season of productivity and pleasant writing!

~T πŸ”₯πŸ‰β™‹οΈ

Oct 062022
 

Life is a constant up and down like a seesaw.

When I first saw the Korean version of this weird balancing device, I was confused as to why they would consider it play to ask kids/players to stand on the balancing board rather than sit as is the US way of play. I mean, talk about accidents waiting to happen! Over time, I came to appreciate the fact that play is really the teaching of real-life in a more protected, light-hearted, and experiential way. How much more directly can you find a way to learn that you need to find balance to stay up and you have to trust your partner not to knock you off the small little board. If either of you wavers, both are prone to a potential accident.

Also, I found that once one learned the art of the balance between two players, there was a lot more freedom in how one “flies” when the skill is mastered – just do a Google search for images and videos of how these players fly, somersault, and jump in the air.

Unfortunately, I never was brave enough to let anyone jump so much on the board that my feet left it, and am a little sad to admit that I really don’t like the idea of free-flying through the air without all kinds of safety equipment attached to me and below me. My risk-taking approval has a lot of qualifying requirements.

Still, the art of balance is often found in the ability to compromise. This compromise often requires a step forward and out rather than digging heels in with stubborn selfishness.

This week I was meant to go to Florence for another Writing Mini-Retreat on my own. I had booked everything, researched where to go, and was preparing myself mentally when I noticed M had a greyness floating over him for a couple of days. He has a constant state of stress around him anyway related to house financing, so I initially attributed his aura to that. However, when nothing was lifting it I asked directly to which he poured out his frustration on spending money always going out.

A regular point of contention between us is that life requires this outflow of funds. We cannot leave the house without spending money as that is the nature of experiencing life – no matter where we go or what we do. Things cost money. We cannot stay isolated in our home any more than we already do and my own ability to make an income is limited. Since this is the reality, I do not want to feel as if I am a captive in the house or a kept woman when it comes to living life – even if it is somewhat true.

So, when he openly confessed that he felt frustrated that it was going to cost money for me to go to Florence or for him to travel or for us to buy things that we need aside from food, I initially felt irritated. However, with some time and space, I admitted to myself that I didn’t necessarily need to go to Florence as I could try to do my writing locally to save our funds so that he could use the money to take his own break. Since I knew that asking him if he preferred me to do this would result in circular conversation, I made an executive decision to cancel everything for the trip. Luckily, I have long-learned that everything I book should have easy cancellation even if it costs a bit more.

In doing so, M initially tried to deflect and push back his sense of guilt for my action. However, I simply told him to just accept it, but not rub my face in it. I made the decision. I was OK with that decision. I also did not want to be reminded that I could have made a different one.

Through this decision, something magical happened. He reflected. Although he may not say so or realize it consciously, I know that me “sacrificing” the trip caused him to re-evaluate his view on our spending money. Taking our house payment issues out of the equation, we have more than enough money to save and spend reasonably. There is no need for us to feel like captives in our own (almost) house. There is no need for us to begrudge each other the desire to spend or go away for a few days to do the things that we want to do. We can afford it and we need – to some degree – to do it for both of our sanities.

So, like with a seesaw, we have to learn to trust each other and take turns as we allow the other to fly, jump, somersault, and soar in the air with the belief that the board will always be strong below to let us land safely.

~T πŸ”₯πŸ‰β™‹οΈ

Oct 042022
 

Of late, I have been questioning my purpose in this life. When I was heavily into the world of Christian teachings β›ͺ️, I was convinced my place in the “body of Christ” ✝️ was the butt or bottoms of the feet 🦢🏼; wherever it was that people squashed and used taking the place for granted in its purpose. They are still very important parts of the body, but greatly unappreciated. So, for the most part I have found contentment as that being my general role in the whole of society. πŸ‘ŒπŸ½

When I read about Buddhism, I accepted the belief that suffering is just a part of life. Through meditation πŸ§˜πŸ½β€β™€οΈ and yoga, I found that I could cope with the varying degrees of “suffering” that ebb and flow.

However, I am still human and imperfect. My ego wants there to be more than suffering or being the brunt-end of the greater whole. It is in this desire that I struggle.

For the most part, I do not put much stock into human beings. Everyone is fallible – myself included. Everyone will disappoint – myself included. Everyone will be a weakness at some point or another – myself included.

In partnering with another human, we have a tendency to let ourselves believe that person is infallible, will never let us down, and will always be our strength. Basically, we put all our eggs in their basket and expect them to cherish, protect, and keep them from breaking at all costs as we would if we had kept them in our own basket. Some couples just get a bigger basket and put all their eggs together, but if anything happens to either one’s eggs they blame the other for not caring sufficiently to keep them safe. Modern day couplings seem to prefer that each one keep their own basket and avoid the sharing of responsibility for the other’s. What all of these scenarios presume is that the baskets are already full. 🧺

Imagine if, instead, we acknowledge we only have a few eggs in our own baskets and together we add to the filling of each other’s with more eggs while still keeping responsibility and control over our own baskets. Wouldn’t that be more satisfying and less controlled by another, or at least, avoid a sense of co/dependency?

I know – it’s an ideal more than a reality.

Also, I digress. I mean, how does holding on to our own baskets and helping each other fill them up have anything to do with our purpose of existence?

Well, I recently did a search on how to avoid depression or what to do when one has suicidal thoughts and is looking for purpose. It was more for research on my novel, but also somewhat related to my own thought patterns of late – not to worry, though I’m OK, I promise. πŸ₯°

Still, I found the online advice to be rather useless. πŸ™„ Advice like: find something to be grateful for and focus on that; do something good for others rather than focusing on yourself; reach out to others; etc. are good points, but honestly I call BS on their efficacy. πŸ€¦πŸ½β€β™€οΈ

For one thing, someone who is on an emotional and mental decline will struggle with the first two suggestions as it takes quite a bit of motivation to take action on something. The latter is probably ideal, but to be honest, I can count on two fingers ✌🏽, or maybe even just one ☝🏽, the number of people whom I could reach out to and trust that they would actually listen to me: without judgment, offer of advice, or compare my woes with their own, as feedback to me. Although I never participate in FB posts that say something like “I’d like to see if at least five people will respond to this post as a reaction to suicide awareness or acknowledgment of depression…“, I do not disagree with the sentiment behind them – I just don’t like FB posting that much. πŸ€ͺ

The fact is that people have their own lives, are figuring out how to survive their own woes, and also mistakenly think they are the only ones experiencing their thoughts and challenges in a world that celebrates the image of “having it all together” or living the perfect life. Therefore, we have somewhat lost the art of getting together for a cup of tea/coffee and sharing with each other the frustrations, challenges, and angst that is called life.

Although I do think I am the most important person in my world, I also know that I am NOT the most important person in others’ worlds. As much as I think that is strange, I respect it. 😜 So, I am trying to revert my mind back to a sense of calm and acceptance as to the importance of being the backside or bottom part – I mean you try imagining sitting down without a soft cushy bum or walk without the bottoms of your feet. I am also reaching out to my one (maybe two) trusted peoples who will let me rant and vent with open-ended ears and love. [Thank you πŸ™πŸ½πŸ₯° – you know who you are!]

Through all of this, I accept “suffering” is a part of life. We are all in it together and together we shall survive if we just give each other a chance to discover our roles/purpose in this life, and give love through compassion where and whenever needed.❀️

~T πŸ”₯πŸ‰β™‹οΈ

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