Entry #3 on my May Journal Challenge is an easy one... in short, I'm proudest of myself physically when I do something I convinced myself I couldn't do, and mentally when I act with integrity.

My proudest moments since the Great Transformation are 95% hiking and 5% obstacle course races. High amongst those are the hikes I got to re-do after shedding the Old Me. And I got to do two of them, Iceberg Lake in Montana and Angel's Landing in Utah, with my sister.

Nothing like the feeling of burning quads and lungs with the sweet, sweet payoff of fragrant forest and stunning vistas. As I've said before, it still bugs me that I'm the slowest on the mountain, but I'm still there and most aren't, so fuck 'em.

I'm having trouble articulating my integrity victories. Hmmm..... will have to ponder why that is. Imposter syndrome? Unwillingness to dig deep? I'll leave that to another post.

Day 2-ish and 4-ish of of my Journaling Challenge. I wrote this the other day, but there were elements that were too personal to put on a public-ish blog. Plus it mentioned other people, which isn't fair. So, I've distilled this down to what I know about myself.


* I have a definite continuum of stress symptoms

* What stresses me out: being overwhelmed. Whether at work, at home, or a Grand World Problem that I take to heart.

* Ultimately, what stresses me is two-fold: when I procrastinate, and when I feel like too much is out of my control. Coincidence? i think not.

* Stress (the bad kind, because some stress is good and kicks me out of ennui) begins with a generalized anxiety, which I often ignore, which makes it worse, which gnaws at me like a hunger, which I think is hunger, which I literally feed, which covers up my emotions, which gives me a false sense of wellness. Follow me so far?

* I don't often recognize this as stress. When I do, my shame spiral gets triggered. This can last from a nano-second to several days, where I berate myself for not having more insight into my psyche and letting the stress overwhelm me

* I try to turn that frown upside down and do something positive. My house is never cleaner than when I'm in the second stage of stress. My correspondence is updated. My bills are paid. I exercise! 

* If that doesn't work and I continue to sublimate, let's just skip to the red flag end of the spectrum: total shut-down. I've mostly learned how to recognize and excise this stage, but sometimes I spend minutes to months just staring at the work that needs to be done, and feeling physically and mentally unable to even begin. Total overwhelm. Then I get embarrassed by that, because I'm a competent and capable human being. 

* Case in point: my damned taxes. Never in my life have not filed my taxes either on time or within a month of the deadline. Back in the day, my mom would pull out the pencils, calculators, and coffee, and off we'd go. Thank god for modern tech that does all the calculations for you! Then comes 2014, I move, use my RRSP for the first-time home buyer's loan. Come tax time, I think I figure out how to do that, think I file, then hear nothing else. Not only did I not hear back from the CRA, I don't bother to follow up, don't file in 2016, or 2017, or.... well, you can fill in the rest. WTF is my problem? I either get a refund and the Canadian gov't is earning my interest, or I owe money, and I'm about to owe extra money. 

Taxes couldn't be simpler in the internet age. And my couldn't be simpler. A T4, a couple of T-whatevers for some charity donations and union stuff, and an RRSP that I now put towards paying back the homeowner loan. And yet they remain unfiled. I don't even mind throwing money at the problem and taking everything down the street to my local H&R Block. Yet I don't! wtf is my stupid problem? 

My visual for this post is the hidden message in my nephew's math homework. It's an important one, and will probably explore this is future posts. 

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 I have many fine qualities, but consistency with just about anything is not one. I start with great intentions, then fizzle. Writing is no different. I love the therapeutic value of putting cyber pen to cyber paper, and occasionally surprise myself with a new insight or witticism. However, I lack the discipline to maintain and hone. This blog being Exhibit A. I think I'm averaging a post and a quarter per year?

May is Mental Health Awareness Month. As I am aware of my mental health, and having come across this through the #wehiketoheal hashtag via one of my favourite Instagram pages, Unlikely Hikers, I vowed I would write a little bit every day. I haven't. So, here's a 3-for-1, since the first ones are somewhat related. 

I feel most beautiful when...
I feel sexiest after...
I know I'm happy when...

The middle one I'll leave for my personal writing, but beautiful, sexy, happy... those are mostly the same emotion. In the spirit of just write the damn thing and don't obsess because that's just an excuse for not getting the job done, here's my first draft, barely-edited response.

I feel the most alive when I'm totally engaged and mindful of myself and my surroundings, when I feel a sense of flow. a sense of purpose, and sometimes a sense of altruism. I say sometimes because most often I find myself truly happy when I'm doing a solo pursuit--mostly hiking or kayaking. I'm completely reliant on myself, everything is up to me. There's no asking someone else what they want to do, trying hard to keep up with another's pace, stopping when I want.

Having said that, I don't shy away from company now that I've relegated my depression to a tiny corner. Reflecting on the happiest moments in the past year all comes back to the company I kept, but also mixed with the physical activity that brought me to those heights (pun intended). Mt. St. Helens, Lake Louise, Olympic Peninsula, Tough Mudder, Utah.... all shared with those I love.

Nature is the common denominator. Although I've felt great joy in my classroom and building my nest in the first home I've owned, to be truly happy I need to be outside. I am getting too old to sleep on the ground in a tent without waking up channeling Snap Crackle and Pop, a moment last year of true bliss was setting up camp lakeside, after a wonderful visit with friends, on a hot summer's night, and jumping in the glassy water at sunset. Snapped this picture afterwards, hoping it captured what I was feeling inside. It kind of did, but the miracle is that I willingly take pictures of myself now. No more erasing myself from my own story. But that's an entry for #17.

“A joyful life is an individual creation that cannot be copied from a recipe.”
― Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi