Sailing for my life
Apr. 20th, 2004 09:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
vaneramosWhen I was very small, my brother Mike built himself a sailboat to use at our cottage on Lake Erie. One day he took me along the shore and we got caught in a thunderstorm. I was about four years old. We had other relatives with us. We had to beach the boat, flip the hull in the shelter of the wooded bluff and crawl underneath until the rain and lightning passed. I was thrilled.
A later storm seriously damaged the boat where it was beached high above the normal waterline. Mike was heartbroken but never repaired it.
I was 16 when my eldest brother Bob bought a Laser for the family's new cottage on Lake Fletcher. In that boat, my cousin taught me how to sail.
Speed has never appealed to me much. I have mixed feelings about snowmobiles, motorcycles and downhill skiing. But in a sailboat, cutting like a whisper across the waves, I am Ged guiding Lookfar across the high seas. I love the feel of sun on my brow, air rushing past and water spraying over the bow. To read the play of breeze on the water and match my strength against the sail's tug on the mainsheet, to wrestle the wind with my arm, makes me feel one with the air. I am a spirit of the atmosphere. I am a gull.
Me with the Laser in about 1987, age 23. What a blondie I was in my 20s! At right is John Duncan, my roommate from 1986 to 1988. Last time I spoke with him about 10 years ago he was on furlough from missionary work in Djibouti. Photo by my mom, Donna Waffle, I think.
Sailing on Lake Fletcher is not for the faint of heart. Fresh breezes arise on most fine summer afternoons. Gusts churn amongst the surrounding hills and funnel through narrow channels. They come unexpectedly out of nowhere. As a novice I expected to get overturned at least once a day. Once I learned to handle the boat, dunking was no longer an end in itself, and yet it was always an exciting possibility. It was exhilarating to right the overturned craft and get control of the sail again. It was sometimes exhausting, but with the security of a peaceful dock not far away, I was confident to ride the wind all afternoon.
Lately I feel I have been sailing, but in another element. Whenever one undertakes a serious meditative practice, one must be prepared for challenges. My meditations are mostly an exercise in relaxation and finding a calm space within myself. Difficult emotions rarely arise, but arise they must. One cannot ignore or bypass pain on the path to balance and serenity. Meditation reveals inner conflicts and requires us to face them.
Today was one of those days. This morning some unexpected gusts hit. Grief over past experiences, frustration over time wasted and opportunities lost. I felt the keen edge of knowing what I want but have not achieved, mostly for lack of willpower. I believe anything is possible, however life offers no guarantees, and I see a few cards stacked against me. Optimist though I am, I can't follow my dreams without acknowledging the fear that the effort will come to nought. It is fear that has held me back, and fear I must learn to smile in the face before it fulfils itself.
I'm caught on the lake of life trying to teach myself how to sail, or at least wave down someone who knows the ropes.
Part of the reason my morning meditation was so tumultuous was that I realized partway through that I had an afternoon appointment at the Centre for Mental Health. Two weeks ago I phoned about a pilot program. Bridging Employment Supports, and arranged an interview. The problem is I have to go on a waiting list, and the program might be cut at the end of May. I had determined to take every advantage of this one opportunity.
On the walk downtown this afternoon I rehearsed the meeting in my head. I was afraid the interviewer would be indifferent. I needed to communicate my problem clearly and grill her for as much information as possible. Anxiety worked against me, threatening to deflect my concentration, clam up and forget what questions I needed to ask. I have let too many doors close that way. I felt my mind rising to a state of higher awareness, almost mania. So much depended on me finding a way forward, even a faint trail.
Laura met me at the front desk at 2 p.m. She was a slim, graceful woman with short dark hair and welcoming gestures. She took me into a meeting room and proceeded to describe the program, acknowledging the limited time frame, and branching off to suggest other avenues I might pursue.
I didn't talk much at first. I was trying to absorb information. I explained my difficulty concentrating.
"It's especially hard when you're meeting a new person," she said empathically.
Then she started to fill out the intake form. It was a helpful process, identifying some of the challenges and areas where I could use support.
When we got to the space to fill out my volunteer involvements, I told her about the online nature columns I write, the rainbow chorus, and the bird count I do once a year for the Breeding Bird Survey.
"Tell me about that," she said. "It sounds very interesting."
And with that cue I started to talk. I love doing the bird count, and I described it with joy and passion. Laura and I were clicking. I could hear the raggedness of anxiety in my voice, but with her it didn't matter. I felt free to be myself, to express what I wanted and needed. I went on to outline my dream of making some income as a freelance writer. I described the barriers I experience, both in that field and in looking for a more routine job. I told her that to be self-employed, I need help with planning, and overcoming my problems with concentration. I like working alone, but I need a writing mentor, someone to talk to on a regular bases and help keep me on track when life issues disorient me. Whenever I struggled for words, she would wait patiently, refraining from finishing sentences for me.
"I hope this program continues," Laura said, "because it would be perfect for you."
However she offered me more than an empty hope. She showed me some other avenues I can pursue, and told me she will find more information for me. She showed sincere interest in my life, it's difficulties and in helping find some solutions. She suggested several other programs that could help me, and will make some contacts for me.
"You are doing the right thing by getting back in touch with a psychiatrist," she said. "I wouldn't pursue anything else too seriously until you have met with him and formed a strategy."
This affirmed what I frequently feel: that approaching the job search without moral support has only led to negative experiences that aggravate my anxiety. As long as I have to face interviews in an environment that is not supportive, I will perform poorly. Bridging Employment Supports could provide "soft skills" training and advocacy.
I felt on the verge of tears a couple times. It was such a relief to talk to someone who understood and could help make connections. It was such a relief to find the words to tell someone what I wanted. The meeting lasted over an hour, twice as long as I had expected. I started to feel tired from the mental exertion. Laura could see it, so we started to wrap up.
"It has been a pleasure meeting you, Van," she said, shaking my hand.
I left the office in a high state of excitement and buzzed over to the Public Library, where I was five minutes late meeting Sylvie. We went for coffee and caught up on one another's news. She has just landed a summer job with the City, but made sure she had the week off in July to go to GALA in Montreal. Talking to her over mochaccino and a cinnamon bun at The Bookshelf helped me calm down.
But I still feel like I'm sailing. I can't let down my guard. You have to stay in control of the boat. I don't know what I'm doing. I have this felt enthusiasm before, appreciate it's value, and fear losing it. If I capsize I'll have trouble setting things right again. Anxiety could lead to exhaustion and burn out.
If it does, it does. That's the lesson of meditation. I can't fight with myself. I have to accept whatever comes. If things get better, it won't come from fighting with myself, but learning to trust my abilities and the acceptance of others.
The same way I trust myself on the water, holding the wind in my hand.
A later storm seriously damaged the boat where it was beached high above the normal waterline. Mike was heartbroken but never repaired it.
I was 16 when my eldest brother Bob bought a Laser for the family's new cottage on Lake Fletcher. In that boat, my cousin taught me how to sail.
Speed has never appealed to me much. I have mixed feelings about snowmobiles, motorcycles and downhill skiing. But in a sailboat, cutting like a whisper across the waves, I am Ged guiding Lookfar across the high seas. I love the feel of sun on my brow, air rushing past and water spraying over the bow. To read the play of breeze on the water and match my strength against the sail's tug on the mainsheet, to wrestle the wind with my arm, makes me feel one with the air. I am a spirit of the atmosphere. I am a gull.
Me with the Laser in about 1987, age 23. What a blondie I was in my 20s! At right is John Duncan, my roommate from 1986 to 1988. Last time I spoke with him about 10 years ago he was on furlough from missionary work in Djibouti. Photo by my mom, Donna Waffle, I think.
Sailing on Lake Fletcher is not for the faint of heart. Fresh breezes arise on most fine summer afternoons. Gusts churn amongst the surrounding hills and funnel through narrow channels. They come unexpectedly out of nowhere. As a novice I expected to get overturned at least once a day. Once I learned to handle the boat, dunking was no longer an end in itself, and yet it was always an exciting possibility. It was exhilarating to right the overturned craft and get control of the sail again. It was sometimes exhausting, but with the security of a peaceful dock not far away, I was confident to ride the wind all afternoon.
Lately I feel I have been sailing, but in another element. Whenever one undertakes a serious meditative practice, one must be prepared for challenges. My meditations are mostly an exercise in relaxation and finding a calm space within myself. Difficult emotions rarely arise, but arise they must. One cannot ignore or bypass pain on the path to balance and serenity. Meditation reveals inner conflicts and requires us to face them.
Today was one of those days. This morning some unexpected gusts hit. Grief over past experiences, frustration over time wasted and opportunities lost. I felt the keen edge of knowing what I want but have not achieved, mostly for lack of willpower. I believe anything is possible, however life offers no guarantees, and I see a few cards stacked against me. Optimist though I am, I can't follow my dreams without acknowledging the fear that the effort will come to nought. It is fear that has held me back, and fear I must learn to smile in the face before it fulfils itself.
I'm caught on the lake of life trying to teach myself how to sail, or at least wave down someone who knows the ropes.
Part of the reason my morning meditation was so tumultuous was that I realized partway through that I had an afternoon appointment at the Centre for Mental Health. Two weeks ago I phoned about a pilot program. Bridging Employment Supports, and arranged an interview. The problem is I have to go on a waiting list, and the program might be cut at the end of May. I had determined to take every advantage of this one opportunity.
On the walk downtown this afternoon I rehearsed the meeting in my head. I was afraid the interviewer would be indifferent. I needed to communicate my problem clearly and grill her for as much information as possible. Anxiety worked against me, threatening to deflect my concentration, clam up and forget what questions I needed to ask. I have let too many doors close that way. I felt my mind rising to a state of higher awareness, almost mania. So much depended on me finding a way forward, even a faint trail.
Laura met me at the front desk at 2 p.m. She was a slim, graceful woman with short dark hair and welcoming gestures. She took me into a meeting room and proceeded to describe the program, acknowledging the limited time frame, and branching off to suggest other avenues I might pursue.
I didn't talk much at first. I was trying to absorb information. I explained my difficulty concentrating.
"It's especially hard when you're meeting a new person," she said empathically.
Then she started to fill out the intake form. It was a helpful process, identifying some of the challenges and areas where I could use support.
When we got to the space to fill out my volunteer involvements, I told her about the online nature columns I write, the rainbow chorus, and the bird count I do once a year for the Breeding Bird Survey.
"Tell me about that," she said. "It sounds very interesting."
And with that cue I started to talk. I love doing the bird count, and I described it with joy and passion. Laura and I were clicking. I could hear the raggedness of anxiety in my voice, but with her it didn't matter. I felt free to be myself, to express what I wanted and needed. I went on to outline my dream of making some income as a freelance writer. I described the barriers I experience, both in that field and in looking for a more routine job. I told her that to be self-employed, I need help with planning, and overcoming my problems with concentration. I like working alone, but I need a writing mentor, someone to talk to on a regular bases and help keep me on track when life issues disorient me. Whenever I struggled for words, she would wait patiently, refraining from finishing sentences for me.
"I hope this program continues," Laura said, "because it would be perfect for you."
However she offered me more than an empty hope. She showed me some other avenues I can pursue, and told me she will find more information for me. She showed sincere interest in my life, it's difficulties and in helping find some solutions. She suggested several other programs that could help me, and will make some contacts for me.
"You are doing the right thing by getting back in touch with a psychiatrist," she said. "I wouldn't pursue anything else too seriously until you have met with him and formed a strategy."
This affirmed what I frequently feel: that approaching the job search without moral support has only led to negative experiences that aggravate my anxiety. As long as I have to face interviews in an environment that is not supportive, I will perform poorly. Bridging Employment Supports could provide "soft skills" training and advocacy.
I felt on the verge of tears a couple times. It was such a relief to talk to someone who understood and could help make connections. It was such a relief to find the words to tell someone what I wanted. The meeting lasted over an hour, twice as long as I had expected. I started to feel tired from the mental exertion. Laura could see it, so we started to wrap up.
"It has been a pleasure meeting you, Van," she said, shaking my hand.
I left the office in a high state of excitement and buzzed over to the Public Library, where I was five minutes late meeting Sylvie. We went for coffee and caught up on one another's news. She has just landed a summer job with the City, but made sure she had the week off in July to go to GALA in Montreal. Talking to her over mochaccino and a cinnamon bun at The Bookshelf helped me calm down.
But I still feel like I'm sailing. I can't let down my guard. You have to stay in control of the boat. I don't know what I'm doing. I have this felt enthusiasm before, appreciate it's value, and fear losing it. If I capsize I'll have trouble setting things right again. Anxiety could lead to exhaustion and burn out.
If it does, it does. That's the lesson of meditation. I can't fight with myself. I have to accept whatever comes. If things get better, it won't come from fighting with myself, but learning to trust my abilities and the acceptance of others.
The same way I trust myself on the water, holding the wind in my hand.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-04-20 06:38 pm (UTC)And damn you had a nice ass even then. WOOF
no subject
Date: 2004-04-20 08:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-20 08:30 pm (UTC)that is pretty great
kind of unusual to have someone in that type of position be that open and supportive
no subject
Date: 2004-04-20 08:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-20 08:56 pm (UTC)Is there anything we can do to help with the anxiety? Rehearsals? Devil's advocate? Strategising? Name it.
no subject
Date: 2004-04-21 12:22 pm (UTC)As far as helps go, I've been thinking about that. I can't give a full answer until I go in to see the specialist and find a strategy. As Laura said, I shouldn't push myself into situations that will make things worse until I have the right kind of support. As with depression, I can't talk myself out of the feelings. In fact, I'm not interested in any approach intended to turn me into a well-adjusted cog in the wheel. One of the keys, according to a book I have been reading this morning, is acceptance of the fact that I will continue to feel anxious, but don't need to let it interfere with my life.
I do need safe, supportive social and occupational environments where I feel free to be my quiet, sensitive self while gaining confidence that I can also contribute to the group. You guys have already helped me this way. There might be more, but I don't know yet.
One of my biggest concerns is developing a plan and some strategies for freelancing. I know most of what needs to be done, but anxiety interferes with memory, concentration, decision-making and follow-through. That's why I told Laura I would like a writing mentor, someone I can use as a sounding board to help me keep myself on track week by week. In general, I feel the need for moral support from entrepreneurial types. Possibly you and I could do some brainstorming sometime, but that might be premature until I have seen a therapist and talked about the viability of my employment alternatives.
no subject
Date: 2004-04-21 03:11 pm (UTC)How about right over here?
All right, I think we established long ago that all right-thinking gay men (I can't speak for straight women) want Van's ass.
I'm glad you found someone helpful -- she sounds great -- and I hope the program survives. And I hope all of this (including your therapy) is helpful in both reudcing your anxiety and getting you employment.
P.S. It's a little hard to tell from that picture, but it looks like your roommate was fairly attractive too.
no subject
Date: 2004-04-23 09:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-20 11:14 pm (UTC)And darn, was there ever a time when you were not woofy? :)
no subject
Date: 2004-04-21 12:39 pm (UTC)But seriously, the steady support of my friends means a lot to me.
no subject
Date: 2004-04-21 10:07 am (UTC)And, um, yeah, I think it's a good thing we didn't meet back when you were 23 and I was 24. We'd both probably have been freaked out. Which is to say: damn, you were cute. You'd have given me a lot of sleepless nights.
I was blonder then, too. It's a race now between the darkening blond and the gray. :)
no subject
Date: 2004-04-21 12:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-21 01:01 pm (UTC)Meanwhile, "indication of being gay" ... dear sir, whatever can you mean? I am butcher than ... er ... nobody would ever be able to tell that I'm ... um ... but I'm bi, not gay ... ah ... yeah, the stiffy in my pants might have tipped you off. You sexy thing.
no subject
Date: 2004-04-21 11:24 am (UTC)Part of the treatment, by the way, could well involve cognitive therapy. Its clinically proven and good for depression, I've found, but also, I understand, equally effective with anxiety disorders. (The two conditions have common elements involving unduly negative thoughts.) My experience and that of many I know is it works, at least for depression, although drugs may also be needed, but like many things, it has to be learned. Doctors who specialize in this are probably easily hooked in to, at least in the Toronto area. You probably also have a branch of the CMHA in your area who can provide local referrals.
Good luck with the battle anyway. I think yesterday was a really good step along the way.
no subject
Date: 2004-04-21 02:48 pm (UTC)Cognitive therapy is the guts of some of the self-therapy I have done over the past years, based on books like The Artist's Way and Intimacy and Solitude. This is how I helped myself get out of severe depression, improve some of my relationship skills, and start doing as much creative work as I do. I know it will be beneficial for anxiety, in fact there are some things I can do on my own. This is precisely the reason I have started a meditative practice again. But I know some professional insight and guidance are needed here, because the more research I do, I see how big the problem is.
trapezebear has said good things about cognitive therapy, too. Coming from two people who I respect so much, this is a great source of optimism.
no subject
Date: 2004-04-21 06:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-23 09:37 am (UTC)