Three Things You Can Do Right Now to Make a Beginning Easier.

Hi loves,

It’s that time again. The “Things Are Beginning Again" time. We watch Summer collect its things and trail sand around the house. Fall is pacing outside.    

A new school year. New job. New plans. Transitions. New feelings. Finding ways to say goodbye. 

You may have questions.

Will I feel safe (in this new place)?

Will I find people who care about me (in a real way)?

Will my new job/school/role provide me with a better life?

If you’re feeling a bit ungrounded today, let’s look at what we can do right now.

1. Play that favorite song of yours. Full volume. Sing it or dance it. Move your body like an octopus. Or imagine you are an octopus. It’s okay to laugh.

2. Write a real, pen-to-paper letter to yourself. Take 10 minutes (or even five). What do you want YOU to know about feeling anxious, excited or hopeful right now? Sign the letter. Fold the paper in half, and then again. Stick the letter in the bottom of your purse or wallet. Let it surprise you when you find it a week or month or year later. 

3. Call/ text / Skype someone who makes you feel anchored when floating. If that person hasn’t appeared in your life just yet, imagine what this person might say. Imagine her face. “Everything will be okay,” she says, looking at you. And she means it.

With love,

Jenny

If you're feeling the need for some extra support during a transition, you can reach me at (510) 361-0346 for a free, initial 15-minute phone session.  Or send me a message at jenniferdiamondbayarea@gmail.com. 

To the Person who Isn’t Feeling Festive

Hi. It’s Jenny. 

I heard you weren’t feeling very celebratory this season.

I heard you were feeling pretty down. Especially when well-intentioned people say, “Look at all those twinkling lights! Look at the holiday gatherings and the cheer!” 

It’s okay that you want to look away. It’s okay that you feel sad or disappointed or scared. 

Maybe someone you love is ill. Or someone you love is missing this year. You have been feeling more fragile, more tender. 

And yes, there are people and things for which you are grateful, you might say. I hear you, because it’s possible to feel many things all at once. 

So here's my Holiday Experiment for you:

If you happen to look at twinkling lights or old photos this week, also wrap yourself in a blanket or a favorite sweater. 

Allow the warmth to soothe you for 6 seconds. 

Right now, you are allowing yourself to feel more than one thing.  

(I’ll count to six with you now.) 

* * *

We are many things. 

We are complicated with gratitude and with grief. With lights and with blankets. 

Warmly,

Jenny

A Letter to Three Women who May be Hurting on Mother’s Day

I.

To the woman who has lost her mother:

Sit with me. Tell me about her. How she laughed. What did it sound like? I wish I could hear it, too. 

Tell me about her face. What parts do you miss most? What parts do you love?

Let’s remember together. 

* * *

II.

To the woman who has lost her child:

I’m here with you. You say your heart--that day and every day since--has shattered into a million pieces and disappeared into the sky. 

I see those tiny pieces in you, shaped into grief and love and all the things your daughter loved, too.  

Tell me about her face. What parts do you miss most? What parts do you love?

Let’s remember together.

* * *

III.

To the woman who wants a child, so very much:

This is grief. You may feel this grief intensely right now. Especially when you see mothers and children on Sunday afternoon. Or any Sunday afternoon.

It’s a grief that’s hard to describe. 

The categories include: what could have been. miscarriage. stillbirth. fertility treatments. trying. loneliness. 

Tell me about her face. What parts do you see most clearly? What parts do you love?

Let’s imagine together.

With you,

Jenny

“English Major? What are You Gonna Do with That?”

Holidays can be wonderful. Lights and fireplaces and Cinnamon-Infused Everything. They can also be quite uncomfortable and may require a large helping of self-soothing. 

So, from my holiday heart to yours, please accept these self-compassionate, pre-scripted answers to well-meaning questions. You get to choose your level of vulnerability. You get to choose your boundaries. 

Darling, bring on the holidays. 

1.  Any new boyfriend/girlfriend we should know about?

Say to self: “It’s okay that you don’t have a partner. You are loved by many. Take a deep breath. Lift your head. You, my dear, are fabulous on your own.”

Say out loud:  “No.”  (*Please note there are no shame-filled responses to be found here.)

2.  So, when are you having a couple of kids like (insert name of sibling or friend)?

Say to self: “You are just fine. Take a deep breath. Lift your head. You, my darling, are lovely as you are-- with or without children.”

Say out loud: “Kids? Hmm, not now.”

3.  How’d your job search go?

Say to self: “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about this. It’s okay if you feel angry or sad. Remember to breathe. Lift that head. You, my dear, are on your journey. 

Say out loud: “Went well (or was difficult or whatever word fits for you), thank you for asking.” 

4.  Job Part II:  So, what are you really passionate about?

Say to self: “You can take a deep, slow breath. Maybe one or two more. You, my darling, are finding your way-- passionately.”

Say out loud:  “So many things.” 

5.  English major?  What are you gonna you do with that?

Say to self: “It’s okay that you did/are doing what makes you happy. It’s okay to feel irritated right now. You, my dear, have all the words on your side.”

Say out loud:  “Anything and everything!”  (*It’s okay to smile when you say this.)

With love and cinnamon,

Jenny

On Being Alone Today

This week feels loud in many ways. 

So loud that when it’s quiet-- maybe late at night or in the early hours-- there's a smaller, softer ache that you've been noticing and telling me about. 

You remind me that between the calls to be among people and find your community there is a quiet sense of loneliness. Maybe the feeling has always been there. For others, feeling lonely weighs heavier right now.

It’s possible that when things feel unsettled we look up from our phones and our screens and our lists. 

We wonder who will be there for us in the late hours.

And most of all, we wonder who knows us. Really knows us.

Here are some ideas about how to sit with the feeling of being alone—and then move toward connection if you'd like.

Pick your favorite mug. Pour your favorite tea. Invite a friend to join you if you like.

Call that person you’ve been meaning to call.

Ask someone you trust to be there for you. (It’s okay to ask for what you need.)

Wear your softest socks today.

Make eye contact with a stranger in place of your phone.

Take five deep breaths. Exhale slowly, each time. 

(Go ahead. Try it here.)

Hang a picture of someone you love. It’s been a while since you saw her face.

Check your Facebook or Instagram or Twitter with intention. Gently remind yourself of your limits.  

Unplug as needed. 

Call someone and ask her to take a walk with you.

Play a favorite song.

Eat warm food.  

Stretch. Like a cat.  

How will you make room for both loneliness and connection? I’d love to hear from you.  

Warmly,

Jenny 

Why Self-Compassion is Not Self-Indulgence

 “I’m so much nicer to everyone but myself.” 

 “I would never be so harsh with someone I loved.”

“I would never be this mean to a friend.” 

I hear these words from clients, friends and strangers. It's hard to be gentle with ourselves. But why?  

Self-compassion may feel strange or self-indulgent. We believe that if we don't yell at ourselves, things won’t get done right. There will be deadlines missed. Tasks half-finished.  

We believe we won't be enough.  

So let's look at the research. Dr. Kristin Neff is a leading expert on self-compassion and self-esteem. She explains that when we sharply criticize ourselves, we fire up our “fight or flight” system—the system that tells us we are under threat. 

Our bodies frantically pump more adrenaline and cortisol. Anxiety shoots up, and over time, so do feelings of sadness.  

We attack ourselves at our most vulnerable. Criticizing ourselves backfires.    

The good news is that self-compassion works differently. Neff's research indicates that compassionate self-talk actually reduces cortisol levels. Our bodies pump something much more soothing—the "hug hormone" known as oxytocin. 

Self-compassion allows us to think more clearly, connect more easily with others and produce our best work.  

***

You can take a self-compassion break. This very moment, with me. 

Exercises courtesy of Dr. Kristin Neff at self-compassion.org

First, think of a situation in your life that is difficult or painful. Feel where the stress is heavy in your body. Notice how you’re breathing. 

Say to yourself: This hurts. Right now, this hurts. 

Put your hands over your heart. Close your eyes. Listen to your breathing again.  This is mindfulness. 

Say to yourself: May I be kind to myself.  

May I give myself the compassion that I need in this moment. 

May I forgive myself.

You can practice anytime, anywhere.  

Wishing you moments of self-compassion and warmth,

Jenny