amatuer, anxiety, change, mental health, selfimprovement, travel, twenties, Uncategorized, writing

Letting go

I was 14 when I decided I was going to be a Social Worker. In hindsight it seems like a pretty strange decision to make as a young teenager but I guess some needs are so deep that when there is no other way, we are forced to meet them ourselves. I was as longing to be saved, as I was to save others.

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Ten years on and I am a qualified social worker who has just quit my first “real” job after only four months. The job that I had dreamt about and worked towards relentlessly for ten solid years. Less a job and more of a vocation. I was made to be a social worker and because of this every shitty experience I’d ever had was okay because I was training. Gaining valuable experience for my future self. Every experience I’d wished I’d had would be fulfilled through these beautiful, cathartic moments where I would become the person for these kids that I had always longed for myself.

In reality the four months were hell. Weeks and weeks filled with sleepless nights, debilitating stress and an overwhelming sense of helplessness in the daily pursuit for hope. I’ve never felt like I couldn’t do something before but leaving this job was not a choice, it was necessity. And just when I’d had my life all neatly tied up with a bow at last, it came undone. And the whole fucking mess came spilling out. When I quit my “dream job” I lost not only the ideas I’d had about my career but the ideas I had about myself too. That I was capable and strong and tenacious. A social worker. A wounded healer.

Life is funny like that, isn’t it? We can plan with precision and care how the entirety of our lives will pan out but it is as useful as a daydream. I am quickly sobering in my new found knowledge; that my life may never look like I thought it would. That our lives rarely do and that there is beauty in that. That our real character will be shown in how we faced the challenges and the U-turns, not how we predicted them. In how we were able to grow and adapt to our changing surroundings. In how we were able to hope, amongst our pain and our dying dreams.

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Some of the most beautiful experiences of my life were mistakes. Completely unplanned, unpredictable moments and chances which I am thankful for everyday. Life really is more complex and more creative than we could ever comprehend and it is our responsibility to ensure we never limit ourselves to our own imaginations. I might get a new social work job and continue my career or I might not. I might be a teacher or a writer. I might not be the person I thought I was going to be but that doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying. We don’t always have to succeed to win. Success won’t always look like we’d imagined but it doesn’t mean it’s not worth having.

Sometimes the greatest strength is not in how hard we hold on, but in how gracefully we can let go.

letting go 4

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amatuer, anxiety, change, mental health, selfimprovement, travel, twenties, Uncategorized, writing

Rebirth

“I’ts always darkest before the dawn” – Florence and the machine

If you could take away any pain you’ve ever experienced; heartbreak or anxiety, would you? This is the question I’ve been asking myself frequently. As anxiety slips it’s way back into the forefront of my mind I am once again forced to confront that maybe our lives were not meant to be simple. That contentedness was not meant to be our ambition. Once again forced to confront what about my life makes the most primal part of me feel uncomfortable and uneasy. What am I telling myself. Processed with VSCO with g3 preset

The easy thing would be to wish it away as so many do and have done. To deflect and drink and smoke and forget. I know because I’ve played that part too but when I made the decision to travel alone despite my anxiety I made a bigger choice. That I would choose bravery, that I wouldn’t run or hide anymore. This isn’t really about anxiety anyways. That’s just the name I’ve given to my own demon but the truth is everyone has their own version of it.  Everyone has wounds and over the course of our lives we will be called to them again and again and again, relentlessly. This suffering is not a hindrance to our lives. It is as necessary as love and joy and vitality. It’s where growth and change have the space to happen. Suffering is not something we should avoid but instead something we should embrace. And every time we make the choice to visit these wounds they get smaller and smaller. We have the power to heal ourselves. We only doubt our capability because we’ve never tested it.

You know they say when a baby is being born it cries out because it thinks it’s dying. It’s afraid because it doesn’t know whats happening only to be born into a whole new adventure, one it could never have anticipated. We’re still like that. We hold on desperately to people because we fear the pain of loss. We deflect from our own pain and fear because we can’t yet see what lies beyond it, what great changes it may prompt. We long to stay warm and safe in our bubble forever but that isn’t life. We have a chance to live but in order to take it we have to let go of the idea that it’s going to happen inside our safe cocoon. It seems like it’s the end, but actually it’s the beginning. Don’t be afraid. Come out into the world. It’s time.

 

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amatuer, change, selfimprovement, travel, twenties, writing

Making my bed

I’m 23 years old, 24 at the start of the new year. I work as a barista in a coffee shop, in a job I neither hate nor love. I’m at a place in my life where I’m neither happy nor unhappy. Not anxious, not depressed or heartbroken, not broken at all and yet not happy either. I suppose I always believed that happiness was just the opposite of unhappiness. I work in a job that I believe uses less than 10% of my creativity or skill as a person and maybe even less of my attention. That brings me no closer to who I really am or that lets me explore that. One of my new years resolutions for 2016 was to stop working dead end jobs and I am really no further than when the year began. And the more I settle into this routine the more I think that there are two types of people in the world, people who are content with this kind of life and people who aren’t. The people who will get out and the people who never do.

So I made a list. 25 things I want to do before I’m 25. Things which range from learning to play my banjo better to learning how to drive. The smallest most insignificant things like making my bed every morning, because that what I thought successful people did, to

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Number 12 on my list: Climb Black Mountain (03/10/2016)

getting my dream job within the next year. Because those people who are neither happy nor unhappy, the ones who live largely unfulfilling lives, the ones we all know and think we will never become, they were just us once. Just some 23 year old girl with a degree she wasn’t using, writing some amateur blog and thinking about how far away those dreams seem in reality.

writing.jpgBut you don’t need to be the person you want to become tomorrow. That’s the kind of thoughts that keep people immobilized. That its too far away, it’s too hard, its too unrealistic. It probably is. You don’t need to get your dream tomorrow if that’s not actually feasible. You can only get there when you get there. You just need to take small steps in the right direction. You just need to do one small thing that brings you towards it everyday. You don’t need to write a novel, you just need to keep writing. You just need to keep your dreams in your sight.

All you have to do today, is make your bed.

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Vulnerability is strength

For most of my life I have considered strength as holding it together. Being resilient. Showing as little emotion as possible, dealing with things alone. Not something I necessarily ever achieved (ever) (ever ever) but definitely what I was striving for. In my mind that’s what bravery looked like.

I recently started Bikram Yoga, the art of practicing yoga in 100 degrees heat for 90 minute intervals. For those who know me or have seen me dance I am a gawky, unyielding person (in more ways that one), so you can imagine how far from graceful I look. Something like me with a bright red face and a muffin top trying to touch my toes while I sweat from my finger tips and ears and places I didn’t even know could sweat. The other day as I was doing precisely this, our instructor said “vulnerability is strength”.

Vulnerability is strength.

I couldn’t shake it. It was so far from my idea of strength. Two seemingly conflicting ideals and yet, something about it just made sense.

For those of you who used to read my old blog you’ll know anxiety used to kick my ass every.single.fucking.day. Everyday my family would watch me fall to pieces at the dinner table or my friends would hold me as I screamed in my sleep. It was killing me from the inside out. But everyday I got up and brushed my teeth or went to uni I refused to give up. Everyday I searched for the “cure” in meditation or counselling or reading or writing, I refused to give in. It was in those moments of my life that I was at my strongest, whether I felt it then or not.

My word for the summer is Vulnerability.

To remind myself that it’s okay to just, not be okay. It’s okay to need help. It’s okay not to know who you are or like who you are, you definitely aren’t alone. It’s okay to be nervous without your Iphone or your beauty products or whatever other crutch you’ve given yourself. It’s okay to say I love you first, even if you never hear it back. It’s okay to get hurt. It’s okay to let down your guard and be embarrassed. (I’ve even heard it’s character building) It’s okay to trust again and again, even when people keep letting you down. It’s okay to fall in love again and again, even if all you get back, is your own heart. It’s okay to tear down the walls you’ve spent 21 years building, the only person you’re ever really shutting out, is yourself.

Yesterday as I lay gasping for air dripping with sweat or tears or both I could have swore for the tiniest second I felt my fingertips touch the top of my toes. Some hope that as my body yields and changes and grows through it’s weakness, maybe so will I.

I have no pictures which relate to this post but look how cute these kids are that I spent every day with! They’ve taught me more than anyone about how to be vulnerable.

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All my love,
Maeve

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