Acceptance of Furlough

I'm not in the Civil Service. I work as a contractor through a private company that manages distribution and material acquisition for several military bases and other institutions across the United States. I was informed around two months ago that I would be taking unpaid leave, one day per pay period. This was upsetting, but I immediately thought of all the ways it could be worse. We are our company's only branch with only two employees. Every other branch lost at least one employee, so if we had a third worker here, I would have likely been let go completely. Our home office could have made the decision to lay me off and hire someone else at less pay. My husband and I have done a great job at merging our finances and planning some serious debt repayment, and as far as I'm concerned, if I'm not going farther into debt, I'm doing well.

The outcome of The Budget Control Act of 2011 and its effects on civilian employees has been up in the air for some time. A lot of my friends here on base have received their furlough notices in the past week, though, and there's a noticeable air of disappointment and anxiety in the air. These folks are going to have to deal with a larger cut in pay than I'm dealing with, and most of them have children or other family to support. Most are concerned about how they'll get by with basic necessities. I'm really just pissed off that I won't be able to go to as many wine festivals this summer.

However, today a notice showed up to our branch informing my boss and myself that beginning in July, employees will be paying an additional $50 per pay period towards health insurance. The company explained a "substantial decline" in sales revenue due to the Sequestration as the reasoning behind this action. So my pay will be cut - again - and it's becoming a lot harder not to take things personally.

Don't they see that my boss and I are busting ass to bring in more sales than some of the other branches with more employees? Don't they know how hard we worked and the relationships we built with folks down here to secure our new, five-year contract? Don't they realize how devastated our branch would be if my boss and I both decided to leave the company? Even if just one of us decided to leave. We have a great system going here, and for a long time I was able to feel pride in helping save the government money on material acquisitions while continuing to practice excellent customer service with customers who aren't always happy with how quickly some materials can be delivered. This was important to me. I went to school for social work and truly want to help individuals. Even though I left the profession because of my fears relating to my abilities seven years ago, I was still able to feel helpful here. Doesn't my company know how lucky they are to have me? Why aren't they making cuts elsewhere before deciding to take my earnings?

It's so easy to take it personally. Our company is classified as a small business, and I expect the attention and care from management that one might receive in a small business. However, classification as a small business doesn't mean that employees will be made to feel important. Anywhere. Companies stay afloat because they prioritize making money. I really don't understand much about capitalism or economics, but I know that I'm just a name on a roster at our home office.

Here are some things that are helping me accept the recent changes in my earnings here at work:

• Gratitude - Again, the company could just as easily find someone to replace me and pay them less - probably much less - than I am being paid, even with my cuts. We could be in a worse financial situation at home in various ways. My boss is completely supportive of my efforts to look for a new job. These are all things that I can be grateful for in each moment. All these things make the sting a little less sharp.
• Impermanence - Every situation in life passes, whether we want it to or not. During rough times in my life, times that seem unbearable, I can remember that I'll look back on this as another period of time in my overall existence. Impermanence sucks when I want joyful, happy situations to last forever - but it's helpful to acknowledge when I need a reminder that this will pass.
• Connectedness - There are dozens of people that I know personally and have love for up and down this hall, and they're going through this too. Sometimes the strongest surges of anger and resentment come when I focus on, "me, me, me, MY pain, MY struggle." We are all suffering creatures in similar and different forms.
• Trust - I fully trust that life will move forward. The earth will keep spinning, there will be more struggles throughout my life, but there will be victories and moments of joy as well. Letting go of what I can't control comes when I trust that things will work out in one way or another. It's easy to think that things have to go the way I anticipate them, but that's a fallacy I tell myself and only leads to more suffering. Sometimes not getting what we want means that something better is coming along.
• Strength - I don't feel very strong right now. But through experience, I have learned that my biggest gains in mental and emotional strength only come through struggle and pain. I've been jamming out to Kacey Musgraves' album this morning, and the first song reminds me that we can only see a silver lining if we're willing to experience a cloudy day.

Opening Up

As I sit glancing at the clock, telling myself a story about how our mindfulness group's leader is completely selfish for keeping us until 7:03pm when group is supposed to be finished at 7:00pm, she tells us our homework for the week: notice and pay attention to when we find ourselves being impatient. She knows I have over an hour to drive home. She takes our money and smiles, and I am severely offended that it is now 7:04pm and she's still talking about impatience. Another student asks for a handout that she mentioned earlier in the session, and she asks if we wouldn't mind waiting for her to print a few copies. I stand up in a huff and exclaim, "I have to go! I have a long drive!" and quickly hustle out of the room as the other students quietly say, "Goodbye, Lisa!" I get into my car and the tears start to flow. Impatience. I have to laugh when I realize that I was completely caught up in a fit of impatience while she was asking us to be aware of these precise instances.

I had been keeping a pretty big secret from the group about my reasons for wanting to attend an eight-week group mindfulness course.

This week I returned to group, resolving to share. I've gotten a pretty big head about group. I'm one of the younger members, and have already been studying and practicing mindfulness for about three years. Our leader, Dr. P., occasionally turns to me and asks for my opinion when another group member needs help understanding a concept. It's just like when I was in first grade, and the teacher would ask me to come up and read to the class while she graded papers. I was very prideful. If I shared this piece of myself with my group, I knew that their opinions of me would change. They would see that I have a pretty embarrassing and immature flaw. I hadn't even let myself cry in group. In fact, I spent most of the time in group judging the older members and hoping that I have my shit together by the time I'm their ages.

Hypocrite. Open up to this. If I'm allowed to sit in silent judgment, then they have the right to see my uglies too. And judge however they choose. Their judgment will have absolutely no effect on my ability to overcome my personal obstacles. This awareness gives me a sense of guilt and also freedom.

So, I tell everyone that I am struggling. I tell them that while I appear so functional, put-together, mindful, and aware... I am crippled by fear inside. I am blanketed in attachment to the way things used to be, and feel unable to move forward and let old parts of myself fall away. I begin to cry, a lot, and I don't fight it because I remember when Andrea told me that the only time someone is ugly when they're crying, is when they're trying to stop crying. I look around. Everyone in the group is listening to me with loving, understanding eyes. A few are nodding encouragingly. Dr. P. thanks me for sharing and reveals that she carried the same youthful struggles into her adulthood. I feel warm and connected to each member, and wonder if maybe I'll hang out after session and get to know someone a little more.

But she keeps us until 7:05pm and I have such a long drive haha.

Sitting Still

I'm so antsy! Ancy? Antsy. Haha.

Lisa Life is going really well lately. Yet I still find it so hard to be in the present moment. I'm currently switching between tabs to catch up on my Feedly, continuously check my Facebook messages to see if a friend has messaged me back about some free theme park tickets (that we plan to use IN JUNE), gchat the husband about my night of incredible sleep, and looking through old pictures. Oh, and I read the recap from last night's Game of Thrones episode even though we won't watch until tonight - I never read the recaps beforehand! I usually have plenty of restraint. Now I won't even be surprised at what they do to poor Theon.

But I'm antsy. I have so much energy. Not like body energy. Just awake energy. Body wants to sit its ass in this chair for the next hour and a half, and then sit its ass in the Bluick seats for the hour and fifteen minutes it will take to get home. See, look! Can't even talk about the present moment without relating it to some future moments lol.

Weekly mindfulness group counseling has been amazing. We meet for our fourth of eight sessions tomorrow. I think that attending the sessions has kind of led me to believe that I'm so on top of my mindfulness practice, that I don't have to do shit for practice the rest of the week. So I haven't been sitting. Or reading my Buddhist stuff. Or even really listening to the mindfulness bell app when it dings from my phone. It seems like I've gotten to this delusional place where I believe I have hit some kind of finish line.

The only finish line is death, and I'm definitely not there yet. I feel incredibly alive.

I'm grateful that I'm taking some moments here, now and bringing a little bit of awareness to my day. I'm grateful that I'm doing it because I just had an urge, and not because I feel on the brink of a breakdown or in the rut of depression.

I'm grateful for this antsy, distracted, anxious tummy moment.

Where Is It

I'm finding it difficult to find a voice about anything this week. That could be because there is a lot going on in life that it's best to keep my mouth shut about. I have been feeling inadequate in several areas of my life, but at the same time have been finding new levels of contentment and resting with these inadequacies.

It amazes me that while we feel the need to be constantly busy, constantly pushing ourselves to be as close to perfection as possible - it turns out that when we let go of all that business, we still get important shit done. Life doesn't stop. The world doesn't stop rotating, or get knocked off its axis. Sure, I wish my spring cleaning were coming along more quickly, and that I were closer to feeling prepared to test for my group fitness certification... but I also wish that I had more time to relax on the couch with my husband, and that I can become more comfortable with the amazing woman I already am.

I start my weekly volunteer hours this week! I'm going to do an afternoon office shift on Fridays at my county's helping organization. They manage the food bank, clothes closet, and a furniture barn - and the amount of households in the county they are serving is both shocking and exciting. It's very naive, but I was surprised when I learned that close to ten percent of homes in our county don't even have running water. I'm happy to be able to spare a few hours and support the organization.

I've attended two of eight weekly mindfulness-focused group counseling sessions. So far the information has been repetitive, but it's given me a new focus on informal mindfulness practices throughout my day. I've been reaching out with lovingkindness a bit more, too. I've been working on cultivating the habit of wishing metta to all the people around me every time I stop at a stoplight. It's a nice break from my typical commuting angst and a good reminder that I can find that peace in each moment.

My husband's grandmother died this week, and it's been sad. She was an important part of our family. I wish I had learned more from her about my husband's ancestry, needlework, and how to be completely, authentically kind. I promised on her obituary guestbook to always look out for her family. I love them so much, and I'm so thankful to have them here.

I attended the first session of an 8-week mindfulness counseling group last night. I was so excited to find a therapist in the area that specializes in mindfulness. It's got so many similarities to cognitive-behavioral therapy, but I really wanted to work with someone who studies mindfulness practices from various sources. I want some counseling with a little injection of spirituality right now. I have gone to counseling several times but rarely stuck with anything for more than a few months. I like that this group only lasts for eight weeks.

Membership in this temporary group involves making a commitment to practice mindfulness for at least five minutes daily, preferably using seated meditation. I can commit to five minutes. My meditation practice has been dwindling for over a year now. I feel nervous about failing at this commitment, but oh well. If I fail and miss a day here and there, it won't kill anyone. As my tendencies to criticize and dehumanize myself are reduced, my desire to do these good things for myself will increase.

I'm grocery planning for next week. I ordered flowers for Memaw's funeral. I am moving. I am flowing. Life is going to take me on a wild course over the next few years, and I am ready to ride.

Just Need to Write...

I'm attempting to break a pretty bad habit that I've been carrying for about fifteen years... half of my life. And I hate to be cryptic, but I have to be right now. Don't stress; there's nothing exciting or scandalous involved. I just want to keep this part of my life private. I think I've always loved my secrets... but that doesn't really contribute to my authenticity. It's time to let this secret go. And while I go through the separation anxiety, I must write.

I powerwalked my first solo 5K yesterday! I've done a few races with friends, but was eager to see what kind of time I would make if left to my own motivation and pace. I figured that as long as I kept walking and didn't outright stop, I would finish in less than an hour. I hoped to finish in less than fifty minutes. I ended up with a time between 42 and 43 minutes! I jogged a few stretches and really enjoyed myself. It shouldn't be too difficult to do some training and get my time under forty minutes before the end of this summer. I read a fantastic article last week about how to maintain motivation after losing weight, rather than getting frustrated at the inevitable plateaus and reverting back to old behaviors or habits. It's helpful to shift your focus away from goals like, "I want to drop a dress size," or, "I want to lose five more pounds," and begin to aim for fitness-specific goals like doing a pull-up or speed and distance improvements. I'm still pushing to finish a rotation of ChaLean Extreme, but afterwards I'd like to do some distance training and heavy lifting a few days per week.

ATMOSPHERE IS TOURING THIS SUMMER!!! I got two tickets for their show at Pocahontas State Park, since husband wants to come too. I've always wanted to see an outdoor Atmosphere concert, so this should be a treat. I'm not sure that alcohol will be allowed since it's a VA State Park... but that would be okay I guess. We could even CAMP! Except once I'd bought the tickets, I realized that the shows are scheduled during the week in August that my boss takes off every year. Lame. The Richmond show is a Wednesday night, and I also picked up one ticket for their show in Charlotte, NC that Saturday night. My original plan was to take a long weekend and drive down to visit a best friend who is currently in the process of moving out there, but now I might have to try to make it a weekend trip. I'll figure it out when the time is closer, and just geek out over the fact that I'll get to see a show this year in the meantime. Atmosphere!

Not much else is going on. My husband had a few of his friends come visit for the weekend, and he had a great time showing off his skills in the kitchen for them. We had some yummy teriyaki chicken for lunch on Saturday, and FOUR delicious whole wheat pizzas for dinner. He also put some love into chocolate chip cookies and a delightful broccoli salad for Sunday family dinner. We're heading to a friend's potluck this upcoming weekend, and he's already decided that he wants to do the broccoli salad again - it's so yummy! It was so nice to see him proud when he discovered that the dish had been scraped clean during dinner. Love that man!

2013 SAAM Day of Action - Possible Sexual Assault Triggers

April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month (SAAM), and April 2nd is a nationally recognized day of action for the movement. The NSVRC website states that today, "provides an opportunity for prevention advocates to engage with their communities." And here I write. I can share a blog entry. I feel a deep urge to participate today, and while I didn't plan to attend a march or speak to a group, I have this blog. My gift is small, but it feels good to give anything.

I read a lot of blogs about sexual assault, and I've yet to fully agree or disagree with anyone's guesses on why it happens or what we can do to keep it from happening. There are so many opinions out there. There's also a ton of information and statistics that detail how incredibly harmful the issue is for all humans. The psychological studies are fascinating, though depressing.

My opinions are based on my experiences as a sexual assault survivor, and my experiences with rape culture.

I'm a survivor of several types of sexual abuse and assault. I am friends with several women who are also survivors of multiples types. I'm friends with women who were sexually abused as children but still cannot acknowledge that it happened. I'm friends with women who were sexually assaulted as adults, but still hold themselves accountable despite clearly saying, "NO!"

I imagine that many young women exhibit the same patterns that I followed. Following my first sexual assault as a woman (15 years old), I began to believe that men were going to take my body no matter how I acted or what I wore. I had tried dressing sexily to get attention from the boys. According to everything I was watching on TV, the only way to get power was to be desired, and then manipulate those who desire you. When my stepdad called me slutty, and other parents told their kids that I was going to be raped if I didn't wear more modest clothing, I figured I'd better straighten up. I didn't want to get raped! So I wore jeans and t-shirts for a while.

I was wearing plaid pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt when I was first sexually assaulted as a young adult. So I learned that I couldn't dress to avoid rape. I learned that something else must be wrong with me. I was trying to be the powerful one, but somehow this guy had taken control in so many ways. There was some other weakness that men could pick up on, so I had to be stronger.

Here's where I made the shift that I thought would keep me safe. I took my new label as "slut" and embraced it with passion. If I couldn't physically keep myself safe from sexual assault, then I'd keep myself safe with an attitude. An attitude that focused on women having as much right to sleep around as men. A belief that I enjoyed taking advantage of men the way that many took advantage of women. If I got too drunk and woke up after a one-night stand, I could just convince myself that I'd been the one to initiate the sexual encounter. If I were enjoying touching or kissing, and then the guy wanted to go farther, it was easier to pretend to be a nymphomaniac than to come up with a reason to ask him to stop. It was very simple to convince myself that I always wanted sex. In this way, no sex was ever assault, because even if I'd said no, I was just mistaken - I always wanted sex.

I don't have any one person or event to blame for the ways I've mistreated my mind and body in the past. I don't even regret most of my meaningless sexual encounters, though I do regret not seeing the true motivations behind them in those moments. I regret that most of us don't see our true motivations in each moment. I'm sure that my assaulters could have made different decisions if they'd taken a few moments to examine their true motives. They were never trying to accomplish a goal like, "Force myself on this young woman and give her years of restless sleep, nightmares, guilty and conflicting feelings, PTSD." Something else was going on there.

So while I've moved forward with my life in many ways, attended therapy and worked through many of my sexual assault issues, and even entered an incredibly safe and loving marriage - I'm also stuck back in time with that rapist, and the several assaulters who came after him. I'm hoping that everyone can stop yelling at each other. Stop blaming victims for being raped simply because they dressed a certain way or had too much to drink (raise your hand if you had to experiment to discover your limits - or that your limit is NO alcohol). And stop screaming at rapists to die or to cut off their own genitalia. We're living in a really confusing society and are descendant from beings who had to rely on their physical instincts for everything. No, I do not forgive perpetrators of sexual violence - but I do wish that they had access to more affordable, less stigmatized mental health care.

This entry is jumpy. I have so many other thoughts that bounce off these, and simply writing this out has gotten a ton of things stirring around in my head that had been resting complacently for a while. My action this afternoon is to sit with these thoughts and offer my love to each one. It's a Day of Action, even if that action is inaction.