🌱 2023 Reflections - Part 1: Embracing Unexpected Gratitude
How a Marathon, Medication, Justin Welsh, and Write of Passage Ignited Self-Discovery
Until my 20s, I steered clear of pharmaceuticals, even common remedies like Tylenol. My aversion wasn’t rooted in fear or intellectual reasoning. It stemmed from a deep discomfort with anything that altered my natural state. My acute sensitivity to my body’s reactions – a keen sense of taste, and heightened sensitivity to light, sound, and smells – made the effects of substances like alcohol and caffeine overwhelmingly intense, causing wooziness, jitters, and a racing heart. Maintaining control over my body and mind became instinctive.
However, in my 30s, migraines began challenging my aversion to pharmaceuticals. The episodes felt as if a malevolent presence was extracting my right eyeball out of my skull. My eye socket would tense. I could feel each cable of nerves traveling down my cheekbone tightening around to the back of my skull, anchoring to the middle of my shoulder blade, immobilizing me for days. Yet, it wasn’t the pain that drove me to medication. It was time off work and reduced productivity that led me to swallow a capsule full of chemicals. Up until this year, my aversion to pharmaceuticals largely remained unchanged.
Yet, it wasn’t the pain that drove me to medication. It was time off work and reduced productivity that led me to swallow a capsule full of chemicals.
Reflecting on 2023, I found myself embracing an unexpected gratitude: myself.
Each day as my consciousness stirred, to experience my existence, I’d draw the cool morning air into my nostrils. This deliberate breath sharpened my focus causing the tip of my nose to prickle with energy. The invigorating air traveling through my lungs, expanding my belly, would affirm I am here for at least one more day – another day to cherish the gift of consciousness.
Thank you for being grateful for each day.
At the start of the year, my outlook was different, not diametrically opposed, but indifferent. After experiencing a terrible loss, I grappled with the notion that in the vast expanse of time, my actions were inconsequential. Millions of years of the past and millions of years of the future, what I did or didn’t do meant nothing, but existing required doing something. The only thing that mattered was connecting with the people I love. In the moments in between, I moved catatonically from one day to the next. In moments when I felt I couldn’t breathe, I ran.
From January 1st to May 7th, for 127 days, training for my first marathon became my escape. It was a run from life itself. The discipline of training gave structure to my days, but it was more of a diversion than a cure. Even after the marathon, when the rigour of training subsided, the emotional numbness lingered.
From January 1st to May 7th, for 127 days, training for my first marathon became my escape. It was a run from life itself.
By August, having spent nearly a year in a state of grieving, resting, and nurturing myself, I felt a renewed desire to fully engage with life. Yet, neither running nor my loved ones could mend my emotional void. It was time to look inward. I felt a compulsion to write, but my body rebelled. Sitting at my computer, held captive by an unknown force, my eyes blurred, unable to focus on the screen. Still, I couldn’t accept this as my reality. With the freedom that comes with indifference, I wanted to explore what was possible.
Thank you for embracing the will to move past indifference.
Dealing with “grief brain” felt like playing a less-than-amusing game of hide and seek with everyday experiences. Like promising to call a friend when I got out of the elevator and then walking several blocks, lost, completely forgetting. In another instance, when my cousin quizzed her son with simple multiplication, I sat there, baffled, unable to grasp what once was elementary. I used to manage profit and loss statements. Yet, four times four – the answer eluded me. It was at this moment I decided to see my doctor.
Despite my claims of not being depressed, my doctor prescribed antidepressants. My past encounters with depression didn’t mirror my current state; I didn’t feel down or unmotivated. Instead, there was a general sense of contentment in my life, which stood in sharp contrast with an unexplainable struggle to work. This detachment was peculiar: I wanted to work, but an invisible barrier held me back, like an instinctive refusal to touch a hot stove, even if offered a bribe. Ultimately, what broke this impasse was doing the once unthinkable – taking medication for my mental health.
Thank you for being open to accepting help from that which you long resisted.
Remarkably, just a week after starting the medication, I began to notice a shift. My mind quieted. My thoughts came quickly and were clear. Having a desire to write but not know what to write about and eager to establish a habit, inspired by Twitter, I chose an unconventional method:
As a daily exercise, I replicated Justin Welsh’s blogs verbatim.
I had been following Justin for a few years and admired him for being open about his severe burnout, having the courage to leave employment, and venturing into the world of solopreneurship. He had cracked the code to making a living online and was generously sharing his insights, helping others. His writing is concise, with each word written intentionally.
Copying his written words each day had multiple aims:
It eliminated the need to decide what to write.
This habit fostered a sense of accomplishment each morning.
I absorbed Justin’s concepts and writing style.
Thank you for figuring out a way to take the smallest step you could.
Gradually, my own ideas for what to write about emerged. I applied what I learned from Justin.
Pleased with my daily habit and excited my brain was working properly again, I craved improving my writing skills. This, along with a desire to figure out my next steps after getting laid off from a job I loved, led me to enroll in Write of Passage – a writing community where students learn how to write online to harness the power of the internet. I had seen people tweet about it for a while. Now was the time.
In those intensive five weeks, I not only learned about writing topics and techniques and connected with remarkable internet friends but also learned about myself.
Writing long-form essays led to deep personal insights. In those 5 weeks and the weeks following, I discovered from the essays linked:
By letting go of the outcome, I can enjoy the process of a challenging endeavour
I gained new perspectives on my role in my first marriage's end
Thank you for following your heart and letting it guide your writing.
As I conclude Part 1 of my 2023 reflections, I realize I’m at an important turning point. This year has been a mix of experiences – learning, unlearning, and relearning. Each breath, each step, each word penned has brought me closer to an authentic self-understanding. From the physical act of running a marathon to the mental marathon of navigating grief, from resisting medication to embracing it as a tool for healing, my journey has been one of profound evolution.
The lessons from Write of Passage, the insights gleaned from copying Justin’s words, and the personal insights from writing long-form essays have not just been about writing; they've been about living. They've taught me the value of my voice, the importance of acknowledging my achievements, and the necessity of self-compassion.
In facing my vulnerabilities, I've found strength. In acknowledging my grief, I've discovered resilience. Embracing change, I learned to value myself. As I venture into the next part of my reflections, I carry with me not just a renewed sense of purpose but a deeper appreciation for the journey itself.
Thank you.
Many thanks for support and feedback from:
Justine J
This had my attention right from the first sentence until the end. Wonderfully expressed, and I felt those lines of gratitude as if they were affirmations speaking to myself. Thank you Miche!
...what a badass 2023 you ran Miche...thank you!!!...