I have been feeling pretty nostalgic lately. Maybe it’s because I succumbed to watching Love Story- the JFK, Jr./ Carolyn Bessette Kennedy show. Though not my favorite depiction- the music and background captures big city life in the 90’s perfectly. The fashion, the attitudes, the smoking. Ok, but why was smoking a thing? I often think of myself as a unique individual, an original thinker, far above being marketed to and influenced. Boy, was watching this show humbling. I was definitely lured in by the je ne sai quoi of smoking so prevalent in that era. I also remember wearing a lot of black, and khaki. But, I digress.
I turned 50 this month! My one celebratory plan to visit a friend was thwarted by a suspected though not confirmed, perimenopausal/menopausal (I honestly am not sure where I am on the spectrum) culprit-fear/anxiety. Prior to the 20’s I was an avid if not adventurous traveler. I have been traveling since I was 5 years old, often unaccompanied. So, with much chagrin I cancelled my flight as it was too late to gather the necessary tools to get myself on a plane- read- medication. I did not get the severity of my fear/paralyzing panic until the Tuesday before my Friday trip. I tried all the holistic strategies I have built up over the years, including therapy and Accupuncture. Alas, it was not feasible to bypass my gut feelings and alarmist thoughts in time.
That being said, this week, I have been challenging myself to be more intentional. As I texted a different friend, “I need to be more intentional about not neglecting myself in the service of others”. The truth is I had no idea I had regressed to this state re: solo traveling. I had a similar episode 5 years ago, requiring therapy and the generous invitation of a friend to join her on a family trip. The combination of these events proved to be a good elixir allowing me to fly independently until this week.
Given that I have a few “free” days, I am focusing on some brain rewiring by giving myself the assignment of trying at least one new thing a day. It’s better if I do the new thing by myself, but I am leaving room for flexibility and gentleness with myself.
On the first day of my self imposed challenge, I went to a new place to hike. Yesterday, I went to a new Barnes and Noble. Yes, I am an avid independent bookstore supporter, but what can I say? The 90’s nostalgia won out, BN and Starbucks being a key date vibe in my late teens/early 20’s. It was better than I expected with the layout being a maze-like nirvana of books, DVDs, CDs, Vinyl, and journals. Plus the good ol’ burnt coffee aroma. Bonus throwback were the teenagers slathered in Bath and Body Works products, that I stood behind at checkout. It doesn’t get more authentic than that!
I guess I am more easily influenced than I let on. I picked up Ross Gay’s book The Book of Delights, about the author’s daily practice of writing essays over a year. He starts on his birthday, which to me, felt like kismet. He surmises that the practice gave him insight into his thought patterns, themes, and concerns. This resonated with me as I had previously innately developed a similar practice using poetry and photography. So, here it goes. I am borrowing this brilliant new habit. The author had his own list of rules for his practice, here are mine: handwritten essays, unedited for content once written, daily, intentional, not about my kids.
Interesting factoid according to Gay in his essay, “Blowing it Off” , the word essai, in French, means to try or to attempt. Maybe this is a practice that you will want to try? I know the spirit of it makes it feel less intimidating, and more empowering.
