Paths to Rock Bottom - Life and the coping mechanism of staying busy (Tres)
Somewhere along a couple busy blurry fulfilling years and when my body started whispering insights to me.
Two years of new adventures, endings and beginnings, travelling a lot, and staying busy. These years also brought some questions and some insights of a looming feeling that something needed to change and that my body-soul was asking for me to pay attention, that time when the term depression first entered my direct experience. The two years right before I reached that insightful place of feeling utterly lost and I was thrown into a new cycle of my life.
On Paths to Rock Bottom - The first years of the Hawai'i ride (Dos) I wrote about my first years in Hawaii and we got to 2015, when I had just graduated from the University of Hawaii at Manoa with my Master Degree in Urban and Regional Planning. Through school, I was always busy, either working full time or part-time and studying, and hanging out with friends and the Musician Love.
{Love side note}
Here are a couple things about the Musician love, my college love. The Musician Love had a huge heart, he was a super smart surfer and former navy. He was a talented and shy musician. He would feel honored, when people would tell him that he sounded like Eddie Vedder. He composed a song for me called “The Mermaid Song” (maybe one day with his permission I can share it). I personally think I was a wonderful muse and inspiration and the song reflects it. Our relationship was joyful, active, and geeky. We surfed a lot together and spent lots of time at school. I am grateful that he was such a big supporter of my first professional ventures in Hawaii, at a time when I didn’t really trust my skills and capacity as a professional. Above all, he gifted me with wisdom about having more self-love and grace with myself. After hard days and situations where I would belittle and talk down on myself, he would tell me: “I wish you could see yourself, the way I see you, then you could have more grace with yourself”. I barely knew what grace meant at that time and I couldn’t quite grasp what he was saying. Especially because I was trapped in lots of negative self-talk and anxious thoughts by the end of our relationship. I am grateful for him and that we ended things when it was time, after multiple breakups that is.
What does it mean to have more compassion and grace for oneself? Simplified hint from my present self: The essence of compassion and grace is love. It is our given way of being and also a practice, if we have forgotten about it.
One thing after the other and some seeds
Back to being busy through school and onto the next thing. To keep in mind how that year went, this is what the timeline looked like. I started my job at the City in March, I graduated with my Masters's in May, and by July I was heading to Cuba for my best friend’s wedding. And after Cuba I decided to run a Marathon in December.
I didn’t find a space to really think about what I wanted to do, no pause. I just kept going. I followed the path that I chose at the time, the thing I thought I should do. (Be aware of the 'should’s'). Before I had graduated I had gotten a job, so I didn’t have to dwell in the space of “what’s next?” for that long. Initially, the job seemed to be a temporary position at the City and County of Honolulu and it evolved into being my full-time job for a couple of years. I was working as a planner, using my shiny new degree, on a pretty cool team that was trying to bring some change. I felt lucky that it wasn’t a boring government job, but a sort of Think-Tank and I was even luckier that I was gifted with beautiful friendships there.
The time on the gorgeous island of Cuba planted a couple of seeds in me. Celebrating life and love with childhood friends and family was a big sign for me that something needed to change in my life, that I was too far from home and I missed my Peruvian community. It also brought to my attention my life pattern of having difficulties with relationships, both friendships and love ones. To be fully honest, I had struggled to build long-term relationships or keep close friendships in Hawaii so far. I had switched jobs a couple times before heading back to school and I almost didn’t stay in touch with many of those folks. Even in school, I had connected with some people for a hot second and then we wouldn’t click anymore, and the Musician Love was my refuge.
The other seed was a re-introduction to the healing stories of Ayahuasca. One of my Peru’s best friends and her partner shared with me their experiences doing Ayahuasca ceremonies back in the jungle of Peru. I got a firsthand download of everything regarding the role of the Ayahuasquero (shaman), the Ayahuasca medicine, the logistics, how long the journey generally lasted, the heavy and difficult times, the vomiting, the ugly, the visions, the lessons, and the growth. I was fascinated by their magical experiences that seemed from a different world (mind these are my words and recollections). I felt intrigued and really touched by their shares about such a sacred plant medicine. We promised to the universe that one day we would do Ayahuasca together in Peru. That promise came to be fulfilled three years later.
First time hearing about Ayahuasca or you wanna learn a bit more? Check this great summary and basic info about Ayahuasca from the International Center for Ethnobotanical Education, Research, and Service (ICEERS).
The last half of the year went by in a second. After Cuba, I decided to keep growing as a professional with the idea on the back of my mind of being hirable if I wanted to move somewhere in the continent or Latin America. Somewhere closer to my Peru community. If I would have to guess, I would say that is when anxiety started to visit me. I was great at playing the role of a hard-working employee and I was really dedicated to it. I jumped into that planning world working hard, doing extra hours, volunteering for events, and attending workshops and networking events. I was a professional planner, had a co-workers bike gang, and I was loving that identity and the future possibilities.
Running to a new goal
Right after I got back from Cuba I decided to run a marathon. This was a big goal for me since I had only started running as a hobby in 2013, when I was too busy in school and I didn’t have time for surfing. Now I see that my mind needed a new big new challenge to focus on since I was done with school. My mind loved to stay busy, it still does when I let it. I wonder how much of a distraction running was. A healthy distraction with much growth, but still a distraction. Also, did I mention that the Musician Love and I had some ups and downs, and we broke up for the first time that year, so I had some extra time on my hands and feet.
I joined a running club and we trained three times a week. Our long runs were on Saturday mornings around 6am, so there was no partying or drinking for me on Fridays. This running goal gave me a big gift and lesson that I have carried with me since then, to check on my body. Brian, our running coach, would tell us that to find the pace we had to run as fast or slow as we were able to continue to have a conversation with another runner. While most people in the group, lots of them with several marathons on their back, would run with fancy devices and watches to track their pace and whatever else you can track. I decided to do all my running intuitively, meaning listening to my body, going faster when it felt good, and slowing down as needed. Partly because I am sometimes cheap and partly because that’s how I would have been running during college. I would go out for a couple blocks, then check if I was tired and when the answer was no, I kept running. By the time I started training, the most I had run by myself was 45 minutes and I was super proud of it. My connection to my body grew deeper and also the sense that my body would go as far as my mind would allow it to go. It became very evident to me that running long distances was a mind-over-body situation, and I really enjoyed trusting and building a stronger relationship with my body. Running gave me lots of peace of mind, I felt great after most long runs and my mind felt calmer. I didn’t have the knowing yet to realize that running was a meditative practice for me, as many things can be.
At 4 am on the morning of the marathon day, our coach Brian told us that the day was going to be windless and hot with little clouds, pretty much the worst conditions ever. He instructed us to run at a slower pace and hopefully, nobody would suffer from overheating. He was a great coach, yet that morning’s speech felt pretty dawning. That gorgeous and hot December day I ran 26.2 miles (42 km) in under 6 hours. I carried my Peruvian flag all the way with me attached to my fanny pack and I ran at my exact pace all through the run, like body-clockwork. Before that year, I had never really considered running a marathon. I felt really stoked and accomplished.
Goal completed. The year was gone. What’s next?
Another busy year with epic travel and other adventures
As I write these paragraphs, 2016 feels even more like a blur than 2015 to me. A blur in the sense that so much happened that year and I still wonder how such an incredible year on the surface led me to what was in the books for me. I traveled a lot, I was very physically active and staying busy, I was part of Dragon Boat race and I biked the Honolulu Century Ride (100 miles) with my co-worker friends, and my parents visited me for the holidays. Somewhere in between, I started to realize that something was going on with me, something hard to label. The lines between the bountiful fun times and the adventures I went on, get mixed with a couple of moments that seemed crucial stepping points into my healing search. That year I asked myself for the first time in my life: “ What is this that I am going through? Is this depression?”
To expand my professional horizons, beyond Hawaii, I went to two professional conferences that year. The first one in early January in Washington D.C., the National Transportation Review Board Conference, paid fully by my pocket thanks to a second job I got at the end of 2015. It was my first time at a national conference and I made the best out of it. I got so much inspiration, learned a lot about transportation planning, got to have Nigerian food for the first time with a transportation planner hero of mine, Todd Litman, and I went to a couple free after-hour parties. The best part of the trip was that I got to hang out with my Peruvian life sister Mili who graciously let me stay with her. The second conference, RailVolution, was in October and it was held in San Francisco. I had an even more of an epic time, because of the people attending the conference (fewer engineers, more planners, and epic public servants), the location was downtown SF, and it almost didn’t cost me much. I was awarded a scholarship to attend and I got to reconnect and stay at my elementary school’s friend's couch. Last but not least, I had a blast because I wasn’t a newbie to conferences anymore and I finally understood that networking and most of the shenanigans were done after hours. I went to plenty after hour events where I met so many awesome and smart people that are literally changing how our cities look, and we got to drink and eat and talk about planning. At the fanciest “networking” event that I attended at this old Victorian hip bar, I felt a sense of completion. At one moment in the evening, I sat down by myself, taking a break from talking to people all day. I had an SF upscale free cocktail on one hand, those with the big ice and the fancy cherries, and some delicious appetizers next to me. A warm feeling crossed my body along with a big smile. I felt that things were exactly where they needed to be and that I had path the way to that moment. I put myself through school, had a good job, and I was in the capital of innovation, opening doors for a brilliant future for myself. That wonderful feeling lasted for about one minute until my proud-moment bubble got interrupted by another brilliant and fun mind that became one of my besties during that conference. Somehow that night I ended up going dancing and karaoke with San Francisco and Portland peeps. Right before jumping on the plane back to the islands, I wrote some notes in a journal about that sense of accomplishment, that I hope I can share with you (if I find them).
In addition, to those epic “work-related” trips I went to Peru for my best friend's wedding, mi amiga Pame, my lifeline during the time of Rock Bottom. I celebrated my friend's graduation from Berkeley in May (at that point I had no clue that I would be visiting SF again in October for the conference). That trip was celebratory and it also caused harm in our relationship. My friend would tell me years later, that I felt off and a bit toxic to be around. Another dent in the friendships book. Back on the islands, we island-hopped with a group of friends to Lanai and we camped at the magical Manele bay. And lastly, I didn’t travel but my parents visited me at the end of the year for the holidays, our first Christmas together in Hawaii. We were honored to have so many friends' gatherings and fun events. We spent lots of time at the beach, went hiking, and they even got to be part of the Honolulu City Lights Christmas Parade, as part of our City Bike Crew.
Lessons from/with the Musician Love
The Musician Love and I got back together in early 2016, after like 5 or 6 months apart. We would bump into each other quite often, given that we were both working in the same professional field. One conversation led to another until we decided that we should give each other another chance with a new foundation of trust. We acknowledged that we had both cheated on each other and we understood the root of why we did it. We spent another 6 months together giving it a try. Things were alright. We had created fun routines together, again lots of surfing, hiking, and hanging out at the beach. We did a trip together to reconnect and hit the reset button with the help of the magic of another island. We usually had a good time, however I kinda felt something was missing, and I think deep inside he felt that too.
Around the middle of the year, we had a camping weekend in this gorgeous oceanfront location on the East Side of the island. It was a perfect setup to celebrate with his friends and have a great weekend. We had stand-up paddles, cornhole, live music by him and his other talented friends, drinks, and bonfires. I played along in most of the activities, but after the first night, I didn’t really feel like being sociable. I stayed a lot in the tent or just sitting quietly on the side, observing like a movie how everyone was enjoying their time. The Musician Love wanted me to partake in the fun, of course. Perhaps we had a discussion about it, I am not sure. All I remember is that I told him that I just didn’t feel like being around people and that I felt tired. And that’s where the thought of “maybe I am depressed” hit me. This insight came to me that weekend and it was out of my mind as the adventures of that year unraveled.
In my head, the idea of having depression was confusing and if you have had to deal with it you know even the label seems like too much weight to carry. Nevertheless, I was still super functional, performing at work, hanging with friends, and being extra active, surfing a lot, and commuting to work by bike. How could I be depressed? On the other hand, I was also spending more time by myself, feeling more tired after work, and I even got sick a couple times that year, which rarely happened to me.
Sometime after the camping weekend, the Musician Love gifted me the Five Minute Journal. A beautiful structured journal that offers you a space to be mindful throughout your day and to focus on what you are grateful for. You are invited to write every day three things that you are grateful for in the mornings and some other insights in the evenings. That was such a mindful and precious gift, as I was trying to grasp what was going on with me, if it wasn’t for the fact that I couldn’t get myself to do it. It was a challenge for me to get into that seemingly easy practice. I already had a short exercise morning routine that included push-ups, abdominals, and planks, about 10 minutes of my morning, and taking the extra 2 minutes to create the habit of completing the journal didn’t really happen. I remember how I struggled to find things to write down in the journal. I felt guilty that I couldn’t find more things to appreciate, as I had a roof over my head, healthy food on the table, friends and fun adventures, a loving family, the Musician Love, etc. At some point, the Gratitude Journal started gathering dust on my side table, until I relocated it out of my sight. I guess gratitude was not my thing.
Re-writing memories with a new pair of yellow hippie shades
For me to write the Paths to Rock Bottom posts, I have been going down memory lane. I have researched my agendas, notes, journal musings, and phone pictures to try to grasp and share what happened before that day when I couldn’t get out of bed. I’m honestly curious too since I have never done this as dutifully as I am doing it now.
This process of remembering and looking at my life with my current shades has been interesting. These new shades, which I imagine to be the hippie yellow round shades, bring new layers of what I know now, what I notice now, what messages I missed, and which things were a call for attention back in the day. It is in a way a re-write of my memories, seen from a completely new perspective and narrated in my mind as a new story. I find it to be a bountiful exercise, in a way like hunting for clues of when I should have known that things were shifting in me.
I can see how on the surface, those years were full of gratifying activities, travel, surf, friends, and overall me staying busy. Perhaps it is not a surprise what came next, now that I am aware that distractions are a magnificent coping mechanism, until they don’t work anymore. How often do you busy yourself, knowing that there is a more important task to do or even a big life challenge to face? Or in my case it was more like, busying myself as I kept getting messages of change, of something deeper coming to the front window of my life. I take it all from those years, the great times, the seeds that were planted, the accomplishments, and the insights.
