This is my third week of DEFINITELY not killing it. The days are blending together.  I’m unfocused and unmotivated.  I’m questioning all sorts of things about my life and business.  I’m tired and lethargic.  And wondering if this is a short wave or an emotional tsunami.

But I’m trying to focus on what’s actually real vs. what’s happening inside my head.  

And I believe what I preach and am trying to practice it... focus on my own mission and why I wanted to do this work to begin with.  Then just keep showing up every day even if all I have to give is my slumped body in front of a computer answering emails, flipping between way too many tabs, forgetting what I was just about to do, and not having a ton to show for it at the end of the day.

In short...  Just.  Keep.  Going.

All the reasons why this email is arriving at almost midnight on a Sunday.  Thank you for giving me a space to show up in and I hope you’re not too harsh on yourself if you’re not killing it.  Not just during COVID, but in life, period.  Just.  Keep.  Going.

Here’s a piece that took me all week to write and rewrite.  My brain feels like mush and I don’t know if it’s coherent, but just showing up is a win this week.


…


For Mother’s Day I dropped off flowers and cookies for the NYC area moms in my life… my aunt, Yi Puo (great-aunt in Mandarin), and stepmom.  

My Yi Puo is the woman who raised me from one month to 5 years old... 10-13 hours a day, five days a week.  

I have an accurate Mandarin accent because of her.  I felt unconditionally loved and cared for because of her.  I felt like I belonged somewhere because of her.  One of the homiest places in the world is her home because of how she made me feel in my first five years of life. 

When I called her on Sunday to make sure she was home and ok with me dropping things off, she sounded super agitated and lamented how awful things are, how I can’t come in and sit with her, and how upset she is to the point where I asked if I shouldn’t come.  No, you can come.

When I got there, she spent the first 15 minutes pacing on her porch, cry-venting while I stood a good distance away trying not to get frustrated.  

Her son lives with her, but she was sad she couldn’t be with other loved ones and touch them.  Some people did a drive by dropoff and didn’t even show their face.  When people would show their faces they’d only be there for a few minutes before she’d tell them to leave. 

How could the world be like this?  What kind of life is this?  Will this ever end?  It’s not safe to be out… you should just go home.

It was difficult to watch.  It reminded me of a little kid (and some adults) throwing a tantrum because they weren’t getting what they wanted.  I felt impatient and my stress levels were rising to the point where I did just want to go home.

It’s hard to sit with our own unpleasant feelings let alone someone else’s, especially when we’re stressed ourselves.  I took deep, exasperated breaths and tried to give her space to have her emotions.  

I asked why she couldn’t enjoy the fact that people were coming to see her even if it was at a distance.  Why was she rushing people away if she was lonely?

It took her a few tries to get to the heart of it, but she finally said she didn’t want to feel the sadness and loneliness because it was too much.  It was easier to not see people at all.  

She breathed heavily and tears started falling down her face.  We stood in silence together as she cried.  

After a few minutes, the first smile of my visit slowly appeared on her face.

We then talked for 30 minutes about life and the weather and my mom and her granddaughter and all the other things we would usually talk about.  It was wonderful.

If she hadn’t taken the initial hit of extremely unpleasant feelings, gone through it even as her whole body was resisting, and got to the other side where it was calm again, we never would’ve had the chance to connect like we normally would.  And she wouldn’t have had a few moments of unencumbered joy.

Sometimes there’s a reality we can’t enjoy because we’re too preoccupied with what it isn’t and what we wish it was that we lose the goodness of what it is.

Sometimes reality is so unpleasant or painful, we’d rather ignore it or "remove" it, thinking it will solve the problem and make us feel better.

In either case we also have the option to let the wave crash in and to sit/hang/chat/dance with it as you would a friend who’s going through some shit.  There can be clarity and peace on the other side, along with the realization that it won’t drown us.

Then we can move forward and do the living whether that’s laughing with your grand-neice during a pandemic, having that honest conversation with your partner from a vulnerable place (rather than an angry one), figuring out what you really want from life, or growing a business during an economic meltdown.

(I don’t intend to be prescriptive and recognize there are times when something is truly too big to face in that moment, and a revisit would be better.  The distinction is in facing it at all vs. avoiding it.)

Out of sight, out of mind is a tactic we all use to cope.  Sometimes it works.  But for the important life stuff that actually matters, it usually won't work forever.

If something’s been nagging at us, but we’ve set it to the side for a while, it might be worth considering what could be on the other side if we took it head on.


🙏🙏,

Pam