Hang Ten

The latest (and fairly massive) wave of inspiration and momentum has been crashing on the shore this week, thanks to my friends, Estrogen and Progesterone. The landing was a tough one because, while I was on the surf board and the thrill of moving fast was exciting, all my attention was on the possibility of getting smashed on the rocky banks to the right or raked across the pebbly shore dead ahead. But I’m land-ho now and shaking the water out of my ears.

In short, I’ve been going at it full throttle with my work and my hobbies and my ambitions. I’ve been like a kid with a sweet tooth in the Willy Wonka factory of life. But, in the past few days, anxiety has been creeping in, followed by all of the negative self-talk about being unrealistic and setting myself up for problems and blah blah blah. And, all the while, I’ve been going to my soul-sucking job four days a week, where I get confused even more. The confusing part is that, when I’m doing some cool programming, I really enjoy it and I think I’d miss it if I changed careers. But the reality is that the programming world (or at least the programming world that I’ve been living in) is not friendly for a smart AND touchy feely female. And so I end up just feeling off a lot and not knowing why and then just spacing out, which, of course, leads to feeling stupid and unproductive and then it’s “do not pass ‘Go’, do not collect $200” and I’m back to feeling anxious again. I don’t know what a healthy environment would look like for me. But this ain’t it.

I snapped to this once again today because the women in the office gathered together and one of them led us through a grounding and visualization exercise. I heard her use all sorts of metaphorical, experientially-based language whose wishy-washiness would not be tolerated in the job that I’m in but was a life saver for me.

Feet on ground, I’m grabbing my surf board again. But, this time, I think I have a better feel for picking the right sizes of waves.

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