Hello Reader!
Seeking Distraction
The wind is blowing. My body is shaking. I’m researching how to make a sugar-free hot toddy online. I plan to watch two shows (maybe three) of The Diplomat back-to-back tonight. In other words, I feel the need to “distract myself.”
It’s the night before the election, and I crave comfort, things to feel “right” in the world, and a deep desire for a particular outcome. Yet, when I sit quietly, pausing to look deeper, I sense that perhaps, at this moment, there is nothing truly wrong.
Connecting When and However We Can
I ventured into Las Vegas earlier in the day on a car repair errand, nervous to be out and about. My dealer offered me a rental car while they replaced a recalled fuel pump in my Honda Clarity plug-in hybrid.
That’s how I found myself—rather self-consciously dressed in my hippie jeans—sitting quietly with the Enterprise shuttle driver, who had Trump news softly playing in the background. The drive was short—less than ten minutes. I struggled to find something to say, some words that might connect us instead of divide us.
As I did so, a text came in from my oldest friend. We live in different worlds now, she and I—political opposites. We rarely connect, but I recognized her intent: to reach out and say, “I love you.” I appreciated her timing, her bravery in reaching out, and the simplicity of taking a moment to remember our most profound bonds.
I spoke aloud to the shuttle driver, mentioning how an old friend from my childhood had just texted me and how nice it was to reconnect. I didn’t share the details, but I felt them deeply. Because I’d connected briefly with my old friend, I could feel the possibility of connecting with this stranger.
I looked out the front window. “Look at those beautiful mountains. It’s a beautiful day,” I said aloud.
He didn’t respond, and I wondered, for a moment, if that was the wrong thing to say. Did I unintentionally signal something about my priorities, maybe an environmental stance? I felt slightly worried, then glanced at him and looked beyond our surface beliefs, deeper than political values. I saw a man doing his best to live his life, find well-being, survive, and perhaps take care of others.
We pulled up to Honda. I reached into my purse and found a dollar bill, which I tucked into his console as I left. It wasn’t much, but I wanted to offer something he might receive.
Not Knowing What to Say or Do
This morning—election morning—I sat down to finish this newsletter. I read over what I wrote yesterday.
I want to reach out and touch people today, connect, and be present. Yet I struggle with knowing what to say, how to feel, what to do.
Remembering I Am a Potential Vat of Kindness and Compassion
I sit very still for a few seconds. I tune into my felt sense of being. Yep. I am still here. I am still alive. I am still filled with potential. I am still a potential vat of kindness and compassion—even as I distract myself. I listen to my fingers tapping now and consciously rest in compassion for my struggling self. Doing so makes me feel connected to the rest of the country, maybe even the world.
In our mid-week meeting this week, we read a piece by Jeff Foster called “Deep Acceptance of Non-Acceptance.” It spoke to the paradox that even when we strongly reject something terrible—rape, genocide, election results—Life itself bears witness to all as it is. This radical acceptance is the foundation of unshakeable peace, the essence of who we are beyond our stories.
We May All Be on Edge
This week, several friends have been going through tough situations, misunderstandings, and miscommunications. I can’t help feeling as if we’re all a bit on edge, lashing out where it feels safe to lash out.
I, too, was triggered recently—a rare occurrence, usually no more than once a year, typically when I’m overtired, stressed, or feeling abandoned. For me, a PTSD response means shaking all over, my heart pounding out of my chest, and a powerful urge to run in “flight” mode.
I recognize it these days. Even so, initially, it feels personal—like “this is who I am.”
Almost immediately, self-blaming voices creep in: “Getting triggered again?” “Aren’t you over this yet?” I feel the shame of being imperfect, and it undermines me. It takes a grand leap of willingness and curiosity to step back from those voices that sound so much like “me.”
Practices That Help
In those moments, I turn to some well-worn spiritual practices. I gently interview my hurting self, offering a listening ear and a kind heart. I get quiet and try to isolate the troubling thoughts so that I can question them. I know they are conditioned responses, invisible messages that appear as if they’re “true.” Thankfully, I also know they’re not truth incarnate; they’re just thoughts.
I look at the thought, “I am broken,” and my deep resistance to having a PTSD response triggered. Then, I allow the gift of pure Awareness to reach me, realizing that Awareness has already accepted my inability to accept something. I sit in the embrace of Awareness itself and fall asleep.
In the morning, after a full night’s sleep despite the prior day’s anxiety, I sensed an odd paradox. Allowing myself to drift into sleep felt an awful lot like waking up—waking up to my authentic nature. Simply accepting those critical voices as present but not defining me, I allowed them to fade.
Offer a Kind Heart to Yourself
Today, I invite you to offer yourself a kind heart. Maybe thoughts are racing. Maybe you, too, have been triggered. My book Naked in the Now, Chapter 5, “Getting to Know Yourself (Including Your Thoughts),” offers practices that help us accept our thoughts.
Often, we want our thoughts to “go away.” We berate ourselves for having them. A better, kinder approach is to accept that we’ll always have thoughts; they arise of their own accord. Instead of identifying with them, we can notice and let them drift away. A new friend suggested we think of gently caressing our thoughts. Yes, let’s befriend them, soften their hard edges, and allow them to slip quietly back from where they came.
Good News
• Naked Writing Zoom Session
I’m excited to offer another Naked Writing session on Zoom on November 19, 2024, at 12:00 PM. If you’re interested in joining, you can register through Meetup [here] or email me directly for the link. Let’s connect and write together!
• Naked in the Now Reviews
My book, Naked in the Now, has received heartwarming attention from social media book reviewers! Several Bookstagram reviewers (read here and here) have taken the initiative to review it, and I’ve been so touched by their reflections and outreach. If Naked in the Now has spoken to you, please consider leaving a review—it’s one of the best ways to keep the book’s energy and message moving forward. Thank you to everyone who shared their thoughts and helped spread the word!
Smiles,
https://marijkemccandless.com
Kirkus Reviews endorses Naked in the Now!
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