For lack of greater creativity, I'd like to take this opportunity to wish everyone a Happy New Year!
I often think about the turning of the year, in the context of where the mere marking of a date on the calendar gives way to something tangibly "new."
We often use the new year as a reason to "get started" on something, and to make resolutions of things we intend to accomplish in the coming year. In a sense, we try to "create newness" out of something that basically is-- if you think about it-- no more than "just another day."
I sense that my New Year actually has real elements of "newness" to it. After all, I am starting over, in a new location I have longed to be part of, for many years. I have actually created a new reality, which is a bit like a blank canvas I now get to start adding color to.
What do you have on the agenda for your new year, if anything?
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Saturday, December 23, 2006
Happy Holidays!
I have not felt very inspired, as of late. It feels like I have been trapped in one of those "in" periods Elaine Aron described as part of the HSP experience, in her books. Although I have been quite aware that I "need" to be updating this blog, I have just felt like there has been little to say.
I know that my time away has not merely been about feeling exhausted after the move. Traditionally, December has been a month of loss and difficulties for me, and having been a retail gift store manager (in an earlier life) also has contributed to a less-than-enthusiastic attitude about the holidays.
As such, I am going to leave this entry short, and merely use it as an opportunity to wish everyone who reads here Happy Holidays, and all the best in the coming year!
I know that my time away has not merely been about feeling exhausted after the move. Traditionally, December has been a month of loss and difficulties for me, and having been a retail gift store manager (in an earlier life) also has contributed to a less-than-enthusiastic attitude about the holidays.
As such, I am going to leave this entry short, and merely use it as an opportunity to wish everyone who reads here Happy Holidays, and all the best in the coming year!
Monday, November 20, 2006
HSPs and Holiday Stress
The Holiday season is upon us.
My experience tells me that the Holidays are as often a source of stress for HSPs, as they are a source of joy and celebration. From the whole "party atmosphere" to dealing with family members we'd just as well never see again, the holidays do seem to offer many opportunities for HSPs to become overstimulated... sometimes with resulting admonishions from friends and family members to "get a grip" and to "not be so antisocial."
As the world ramps up into a celebratory frenzy, many HSPs would just as well crawl into a small hole and not come out till the whole wretched thing is over.
When I was dealing with in-laws and my own family, and juggling multiple Thanksgiving celebrations followed by multiple Christmas celebrations, I found the most effective thing for me to do-- in the interests of maintaining my sanity-- was to go for long walks. Interestingly enough, my tradition of Thanksgiving/Christmas walks started in 1985, more than ten years before I learned about the HSP trait, and how to deal with holiday stress.
Most HSPs respond positively to being in nature-- it's one of the ways many of us recharge our batteries. I certainly know this to me true for me.
So whereas I can't possibly know the particular stresses you face during the upcoming holidays, here's a single suggestion: Take a long walk. If you feel like you must "make an excuse," just say you want to "walk off some of the big meal." If you are going somewhere outside your home, remember to bring a change of shoes (comfortable!) and a coat, scarf and hat, if you're spending the holidays in a cold place.
My experience tells me that the Holidays are as often a source of stress for HSPs, as they are a source of joy and celebration. From the whole "party atmosphere" to dealing with family members we'd just as well never see again, the holidays do seem to offer many opportunities for HSPs to become overstimulated... sometimes with resulting admonishions from friends and family members to "get a grip" and to "not be so antisocial."
As the world ramps up into a celebratory frenzy, many HSPs would just as well crawl into a small hole and not come out till the whole wretched thing is over.
When I was dealing with in-laws and my own family, and juggling multiple Thanksgiving celebrations followed by multiple Christmas celebrations, I found the most effective thing for me to do-- in the interests of maintaining my sanity-- was to go for long walks. Interestingly enough, my tradition of Thanksgiving/Christmas walks started in 1985, more than ten years before I learned about the HSP trait, and how to deal with holiday stress.
Most HSPs respond positively to being in nature-- it's one of the ways many of us recharge our batteries. I certainly know this to me true for me.
So whereas I can't possibly know the particular stresses you face during the upcoming holidays, here's a single suggestion: Take a long walk. If you feel like you must "make an excuse," just say you want to "walk off some of the big meal." If you are going somewhere outside your home, remember to bring a change of shoes (comfortable!) and a coat, scarf and hat, if you're spending the holidays in a cold place.
Sunday, November 12, 2006
After the move: "Post Game Analysis."
It used to be that I'd write "I'm moving."
Now I can finally write "I have moved."
It has been surprising to me how many people have been following this process of mine-- I never really expected that "one guy's musings" about moving from Texas to Washington would make for "interesting reading," but the impression I have gotten is that my process... in some strange way... has served as a window into a process many other HSPs have been contemplating for themselves, yet have avoided.
I often wonder how frequently we HSPs avoid reaching for the things we truly want, fenced in by the fear that the pain of "HSP overstimulation" will be greater than the benefit we will derive from the outcome of pursuing our dreams. I have met 100s of HSPs over the past decade, and one thing I have grown certain of is that we are DREAMERS. And yet...
... only a few of us ever progress from "dreaming" to "acting." As much as we may be dreamers, we also seem to have an extraordinary aptitude for making excuses. We can talk ourselves out of almost anything. Sometimes it almost feels like we grow a mild "addiction" to "being stuck and complaining," and carefully maintaining a state of disgruntlement.
In my current state of "having moved," I realize that I no longer speak of making a radical life change from the perspective of "theory." I speak from the perspective of "having done it."
And what I want to share with all HSPs out there, who are contemplating a major change in their lives is simply this: It is worth it!
Now I can finally write "I have moved."
It has been surprising to me how many people have been following this process of mine-- I never really expected that "one guy's musings" about moving from Texas to Washington would make for "interesting reading," but the impression I have gotten is that my process... in some strange way... has served as a window into a process many other HSPs have been contemplating for themselves, yet have avoided.
I often wonder how frequently we HSPs avoid reaching for the things we truly want, fenced in by the fear that the pain of "HSP overstimulation" will be greater than the benefit we will derive from the outcome of pursuing our dreams. I have met 100s of HSPs over the past decade, and one thing I have grown certain of is that we are DREAMERS. And yet...
... only a few of us ever progress from "dreaming" to "acting." As much as we may be dreamers, we also seem to have an extraordinary aptitude for making excuses. We can talk ourselves out of almost anything. Sometimes it almost feels like we grow a mild "addiction" to "being stuck and complaining," and carefully maintaining a state of disgruntlement.
In my current state of "having moved," I realize that I no longer speak of making a radical life change from the perspective of "theory." I speak from the perspective of "having done it."
And what I want to share with all HSPs out there, who are contemplating a major change in their lives is simply this: It is worth it!
Monday, November 06, 2006
Moving: A Place to Live, At Last
I have been living as a "nomad" from mid-September, and now I finally find myself in some form of permanent housing. Permanent, that is, to the degree that rented property is ever "permanent."
It is November 6th, which means I have been living like a vagabond for six weeks.
I suppose many HSPs would say that it would just be "too stressful" to do something like that. And I can totally appreciate those feelings. However, the flipside to the equation is that there is a tremendous sense of freedom that comes with not being tied down to something. I realize that such a feeling may be personal to me, because I have lived for so long with this sense that my life, and everything IN it was somehow like an anchor that was bogging down my soul and spirit.
The nomadic life of the past six weeks made me very aware of how we used "time points" to define our lives. I realized that I was living with this idea that "my new life" couldn't officially start until I was in a real house.
On some level, that doesn't make sense... because what would that make the past six weeks? Non-life?
Sometimes I worry about the way people use time as a "limiting factor." We operate with these beliefs that "something" has to happen before "something else" can begin. I'm not denying that there are occasions when such thinking is the truth-- for example, we have to have the money for the down payment before we can buy a new car. However, sometimes we create "artificial barriers" to doing what we really want. As a simplistic metaphor, think about the way people sometimes say "well, I can't get started on writing my novel until my desk is all tidied up, and all my computer notes are organized."
Most often, such statements do not represent the "truth," but rather a "story" we are telling ourselves to mask some deeper reluctance to embark in a new direction.
Pause, for a moment, to think about where you erect barriers in your own life... barriers that don't really make sense, once you sit and examine them.
Sometimes-- as Larry the Cable Guy would say-- the only thing we should focus on is "Git 'r done!"
It is November 6th, which means I have been living like a vagabond for six weeks.
I suppose many HSPs would say that it would just be "too stressful" to do something like that. And I can totally appreciate those feelings. However, the flipside to the equation is that there is a tremendous sense of freedom that comes with not being tied down to something. I realize that such a feeling may be personal to me, because I have lived for so long with this sense that my life, and everything IN it was somehow like an anchor that was bogging down my soul and spirit.
The nomadic life of the past six weeks made me very aware of how we used "time points" to define our lives. I realized that I was living with this idea that "my new life" couldn't officially start until I was in a real house.
On some level, that doesn't make sense... because what would that make the past six weeks? Non-life?
Sometimes I worry about the way people use time as a "limiting factor." We operate with these beliefs that "something" has to happen before "something else" can begin. I'm not denying that there are occasions when such thinking is the truth-- for example, we have to have the money for the down payment before we can buy a new car. However, sometimes we create "artificial barriers" to doing what we really want. As a simplistic metaphor, think about the way people sometimes say "well, I can't get started on writing my novel until my desk is all tidied up, and all my computer notes are organized."
Most often, such statements do not represent the "truth," but rather a "story" we are telling ourselves to mask some deeper reluctance to embark in a new direction.
Pause, for a moment, to think about where you erect barriers in your own life... barriers that don't really make sense, once you sit and examine them.
Sometimes-- as Larry the Cable Guy would say-- the only thing we should focus on is "Git 'r done!"
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Moving: The Perils of Non-planning
Not all plans are well-made.
This move was very well-planned, for the most part. Pretty much everything unfolded as it was meant to-- and I'd have to say that things have gone smoothly, as major moves go. And I have been part of quite a few major moves.
The part of the move that was not planned was the "what happens at the other end" part. That part was pretty much limited to a combination of "looking around and finding something, once there," and my deep-rooted belief that "The Universe Takes Care of it's Own." It's an approach that has worked for me most of my life, but not one I would recommend for most people, especially those who get nervous at the idea of not "being in control."
So I am sitting here, pondering whether it was a stupid move to come to a place with no greater plan than to just "look around and find something" in a new part of the country.
After some driving around (currently living in a school bus-converted-to-RV, and staying at state parks), I am now writing this from the small historic hamlet of Port Townsend, WA.
On some strange level, I have felt "drawn" to this town, for many years. On a similarly strange level, I find myself here, more or less purely based on a huge intuitive leap of faith. Based on a sense of "knowing" that I should be here, no more.
And, as it seems to be turning out, this hunch has been right on the money.
HSPs tend to be deeply intuitive people. Most HSPs tested by the Myers-Briggs sorter turn out to have preferences for the iNtuiting fucntion. I myself am an INFJ. Many of my HSP friends are INFJs and INFPs-- even though these types are quite rare, in the general population.
Some years ago, I attended one of the annual HSP Gatherings in California. One of the workshops offered was about intuition, and working with intuition. I think we often forget that our intuition is right, most of the time. Whereas we want to intuit our way to something, we tend to fall back on the "scientific method" used by greater society.
Sometimes you just have to listen to the little voice inside.
Because it tends to be right.
This move was very well-planned, for the most part. Pretty much everything unfolded as it was meant to-- and I'd have to say that things have gone smoothly, as major moves go. And I have been part of quite a few major moves.
The part of the move that was not planned was the "what happens at the other end" part. That part was pretty much limited to a combination of "looking around and finding something, once there," and my deep-rooted belief that "The Universe Takes Care of it's Own." It's an approach that has worked for me most of my life, but not one I would recommend for most people, especially those who get nervous at the idea of not "being in control."
So I am sitting here, pondering whether it was a stupid move to come to a place with no greater plan than to just "look around and find something" in a new part of the country.
After some driving around (currently living in a school bus-converted-to-RV, and staying at state parks), I am now writing this from the small historic hamlet of Port Townsend, WA.
On some strange level, I have felt "drawn" to this town, for many years. On a similarly strange level, I find myself here, more or less purely based on a huge intuitive leap of faith. Based on a sense of "knowing" that I should be here, no more.
And, as it seems to be turning out, this hunch has been right on the money.
HSPs tend to be deeply intuitive people. Most HSPs tested by the Myers-Briggs sorter turn out to have preferences for the iNtuiting fucntion. I myself am an INFJ. Many of my HSP friends are INFJs and INFPs-- even though these types are quite rare, in the general population.
Some years ago, I attended one of the annual HSP Gatherings in California. One of the workshops offered was about intuition, and working with intuition. I think we often forget that our intuition is right, most of the time. Whereas we want to intuit our way to something, we tend to fall back on the "scientific method" used by greater society.
Sometimes you just have to listen to the little voice inside.
Because it tends to be right.
Friday, September 29, 2006
Moving: More Notes From The Road
I am sitting in Eastern Oregon, having travelled 2000 miles across the country.
As I look outside, I see mountains, and the air is cool.
The journey to here has been very long, very exhausting, and very "overstimulating," in that way HSPs tend to experience the world. Moving is basically for the birds; moving yourself across the country even moreso.
And yet, I sense the beginnings of a sort of inner peace spreading through my consciousness.
Change is a funny thing. For many HSPs, change means upheaval and disturbance... and yet, change is also something that that can work as an invitation to pursue something better. Most HSPs I have met don't seem to like change very much. Well, maybe that's not entirely true-- they like the effects of change, once it has happened, but dread the overstimulation that often goes with the actual change process. As a result, they often allow themselves to get stuck in situations-- jobs, relationships, locations-- that don't honor their authentic inner needs. Change becomes "too much of a hassle to deal with," and thus is avoided.
Change does take courage, because it often requires us to abandon old ideas and situations that have become familiar to us. Not because they are "right," merely because they are "familiar." With time, we simply get used to the small irritating rock in our shoe... it would be relatively easy to stop and remove the rock, but instead we choose to walk on, telling ourselves that we have learned how to "deal with" our discomfort.
However, sometimes the only right thing to do is stop, and get the rock out of our shoe.
As I look outside, I see mountains, and the air is cool.
The journey to here has been very long, very exhausting, and very "overstimulating," in that way HSPs tend to experience the world. Moving is basically for the birds; moving yourself across the country even moreso.
And yet, I sense the beginnings of a sort of inner peace spreading through my consciousness.
Change is a funny thing. For many HSPs, change means upheaval and disturbance... and yet, change is also something that that can work as an invitation to pursue something better. Most HSPs I have met don't seem to like change very much. Well, maybe that's not entirely true-- they like the effects of change, once it has happened, but dread the overstimulation that often goes with the actual change process. As a result, they often allow themselves to get stuck in situations-- jobs, relationships, locations-- that don't honor their authentic inner needs. Change becomes "too much of a hassle to deal with," and thus is avoided.
Change does take courage, because it often requires us to abandon old ideas and situations that have become familiar to us. Not because they are "right," merely because they are "familiar." With time, we simply get used to the small irritating rock in our shoe... it would be relatively easy to stop and remove the rock, but instead we choose to walk on, telling ourselves that we have learned how to "deal with" our discomfort.
However, sometimes the only right thing to do is stop, and get the rock out of our shoe.
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Moving: Feeling Tired (Notes From The Road)
The last few days have gone by in a blur.
I am sitting here, typing this, on my portable computer... inside a school bus that has been converted to an RV (and quite comfortable, at that, not just a "hippie bus"), parked at Brady Lake State Park, no more than 100 miles from what once used to be "my house."
I cannot even begin to explain the amount of work it is-- even with willing friends and neighbors to help-- to pack a 28-foot semi trailer with household goods, in 90-degree Texas late summer heat. I had to keep reminding myself that the trailer self-move was costing $5,000 and the cheapest moving company estimate was $16,000.
A part of me feels slightly guilty about the fact that I am not "missing" what used to be my home. But I am not. I just feel a lot of relief that a large phase of the process is over. I feel relief that I no longer have to worry about a $2,000-a-month mortgage payment, and $700-a-month electric bills to keep myself cool enough that I don't go insane.
(Yes, the bus is airconditioned. It's like an RV. You plug it in, and it becomes like a portable living room.)
Although I don't feel a sense of loss, am occasionally gripped by brief panic feelings along the lines of "What have I DONE???" As I sit here, I realize that a lot of planning and effort went into the process to this point, but much of what lies ahead is open and unknown. Let's face it, I didn't even have an address to give the company in charge of renting out and driving the trailer to the Puget Sound area. That's right, I am moving to a new place without even having a destination. In a sense, that's part of the joy of doing your move with an RV. I highly recommend it. It removes part of the stress of deadlines, finding hotels and worrying about finding housing by specific dates. If I had to do this again (God forbid!) I would definitely rent an RV and tow my car-- it's also great if you are moving with pets; they are less freaked out by having a "house-like" device to travel in.
What I realized, earlier today, is that there has been a subtle change. I am no longer talking about wanting to change my life. I have changed my life.
That's both exciting, and scary.
And for what it's worth, I am not a "High Sensation Seeker" HSP.
I am sitting here, typing this, on my portable computer... inside a school bus that has been converted to an RV (and quite comfortable, at that, not just a "hippie bus"), parked at Brady Lake State Park, no more than 100 miles from what once used to be "my house."
I cannot even begin to explain the amount of work it is-- even with willing friends and neighbors to help-- to pack a 28-foot semi trailer with household goods, in 90-degree Texas late summer heat. I had to keep reminding myself that the trailer self-move was costing $5,000 and the cheapest moving company estimate was $16,000.
A part of me feels slightly guilty about the fact that I am not "missing" what used to be my home. But I am not. I just feel a lot of relief that a large phase of the process is over. I feel relief that I no longer have to worry about a $2,000-a-month mortgage payment, and $700-a-month electric bills to keep myself cool enough that I don't go insane.
(Yes, the bus is airconditioned. It's like an RV. You plug it in, and it becomes like a portable living room.)
Although I don't feel a sense of loss, am occasionally gripped by brief panic feelings along the lines of "What have I DONE???" As I sit here, I realize that a lot of planning and effort went into the process to this point, but much of what lies ahead is open and unknown. Let's face it, I didn't even have an address to give the company in charge of renting out and driving the trailer to the Puget Sound area. That's right, I am moving to a new place without even having a destination. In a sense, that's part of the joy of doing your move with an RV. I highly recommend it. It removes part of the stress of deadlines, finding hotels and worrying about finding housing by specific dates. If I had to do this again (God forbid!) I would definitely rent an RV and tow my car-- it's also great if you are moving with pets; they are less freaked out by having a "house-like" device to travel in.
What I realized, earlier today, is that there has been a subtle change. I am no longer talking about wanting to change my life. I have changed my life.
That's both exciting, and scary.
And for what it's worth, I am not a "High Sensation Seeker" HSP.
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