The first rule of writing is “write what you know.”  When I first started this blog almost four years ago (yes, it’s been almost four years), I had a lot of pent-up writing energy around the kinds of topics that kept coming up when I coached younger employees.  Now that I’ve mostly exhausted that list, my writing is inspired by whatever is going on in my life at the time I sit down to type.  Not surprisingly, observations about life always seem to tie back to those coaching lessons.  Human beings in life and human beings at work are still human beings.  The same rules tend to apply.

As I mentioned several essays back, Trish and I are embarking on a major renovation of our house and I anticipated that stuff surrounding said renovation was going to dominate my writing for a while.  There was a flurry of activity in the spring and early summer as we went through the selection process around design and then a lull as we awaited our construction date.  Well, that date is nigh upon us and for the last many weeks, Trish and I have been getting ready to move out of our house so the guys can have the run of the place.  The process has been, shall we say, unsettling.  And being unsettled is just no fun.

I’ve touched on this topic before from some different angles.  I talked about pushing yourself outside of your comfort zone and the needed coping energy.  Today, as I was “leaving it all on the bike” at spin class, I was ruminating on this whole unsettled thing and, despite all my learning and growing and stuff, it still can throw me for a loop.  I’m trying to get back to a more even keel, so I’m going to write about it and you’re coming with me.

I have to begin by admitting that I clearly lead a very cushy life.  While the pandemic stressed a lot of people to the max, little Ms. Retired Introvert here settled into a very comfortable existence.  I’ve always been a homebody and the pandemic reinforced that tendency.  Adding to that the weight loss journey Trish and I went on during lockdown and finding out that I actually like to cook, I got really REALLY comfortable staying in my cozy little home bubble.  I am enjoying getting out more again, for sure.  But I always look forward to walking in that front door.  However, “walking in that front door” is different now as we live amid boxes and empty walls.  I know the valley is beautiful but all I see right now is the huge mountain in front of me that I first need to climb.

This feeling of being unsettled is manifesting in a number of ways.  First and foremost is disruption of routine.  I can’t seem to write.  My journal has sat untouched for weeks and writing these essays has been sporadic and a bit painful (particularly for my editor who has been using a lot of red ink these last months).  I don’t seem to be able to focus to read, which is another self-soothing activity.  That means magazines and email digests are piling up alongside books and that makes me anxious.  Some days, I just don’t know what to do with myself.  I’m nudgey.  And, I’m sure, annoying.  Here’s a fun example:  Trish was on the land line when the builder called on her cell phone.  Since we have been waiting anxiously for him to give us a start date, she implored me to pick up the phone and deal with the call.  Brian wanted to stop by Monday at 10:00 and I said, “Great!”  When Trish got off her call and I relayed the message, she asked why I didn’t push for a later time so it wouldn’t mess with her/our exercise schedule.  (We are, at least, desperately clinging to our exercise routine!)  I, then, burst into tears since that is how I deal with any stress or extreme emotion.  (Bassners have an extra tear duct.  We’re known for being a bit weepy.)  She tried to back track but is unsettled herself so it resulted in me stamping my foot and saying, “I’m going upstairs!”  It’s been a little rough around here.

Once I got upstairs, I tried to write.  That didn’t work.  I tried to read.  That also didn’t work.  So I slammed down the top of my laptop and went back downstairs.  “We need a list,” I said, being a good Virgo.  Since Trish is also a good Virgo, we made a list of everything that has to get done before the construction starts inside the house.  It’s still a disappointingly long list, but writing it down at least got it out of our heads.  It also gave us discreet tasks we could do, which is also a good thing for Virgos.

I’ve identified two things to get me through this unsettledness.  The first is to be present, which is a pretty good tool to get through most difficulties in life.  Know what one of the best things is to force me to be present?  When our 25 pound Maine Coon-mix cat, Beau, decides it’s snuggle time.  He will announce his presence with a forceful meow, jump up on your lap, settle his bottom on your lap and, forcing you to slouch, spread the rest of himself up your chest and under your chin.  There will be a little kneading of tummy and then he will settle in.  Your job is to hold him so he feels secure and kiss the top of his head between his ears.  That is all you are able to do with that much cat on you.  So, while that warming, vibrating (purring), heated blanket is on me, I am just present.  I think about what I want to write.  I think about what I want to do.  I kiss the top of his head again.  There is nothing better to calm you down.

The second thing I do is choose just one thing to get done today.  “Begin by giving yourself a little grace,” I say to myself.  “And choose just one thing to get done.”  Today it is getting this draft done.  I’m pretty sure I’ll get more than just this one thing done, but if that turns out to be it then that’s ok.  I think back to the stressful time periods in my life.  Some of them were time bound and fairly short, like preparing for this construction.  Some of them were open ended and exhausting.  One nice thing about being older is that I’ve known shown myself I can get through these things, big or small.  As I wrote recently, it gets better.  There’s nothing wrong with being unsettled.  It’s part of life.  It makes for good stories when you get out the other side.  Take a deep breath.  Do one thing.  Yeah, I do believe that was a coaching lesson!