Insanity for Sanity

October 2nd, 2018

I remember the moment when I decided I would have to be a little insane to be sane.

It was ten years ago and I was sitting in my mentor’s office, the old beige broadloom and weathered sofa pattern, a fog on the small window facing St. Clair Avenue — pedestrians huddling under the bus shelter down below as the seasonal rains came down.

If you want to continue to wake up, you have to do the work — she said.

I had started a meditation practice — nothing fancy, just a few minutes of conscious breathing every morning. I had missed a few days of my practice and shared, in a kind of shocked way, how out of balance I felt. The self-judgment looking in the mirror, the pile of clothes on my bed after taking for-EVER to get out of the house, the feeling of irritability on the streetcar…wanting to go home and hide away from life.

Once you open the door to a conscious life, you can’t close it again, she whispered.

How unfair. This is insane! I have to do this repetitive stuff every single day, or else I feel more out of whack?! I felt trapped and wanted to retreat to a place that no longer existed.

So…

Is it sane to remind my sons to breathe through their nose every time they get into a toy tug of war? Better than snapping at them in an ugly tone.

Is it sane to “surrender” my day to a power greater than myself? Better than having micro-managing Natalie reign over.

Is it sane to repeat the same mantra over and over whenever I notice the negative thoughts? Better than get stuck in the analysis-paralysis that leaves me depleted and demoralized.

What are you willing to do to feel more sane?