The (Unspoken) Truth About Marriage

Posted on by stilllearning2b

When asked about the state of their union, people often feel like they have to defer to one of two responses:

“It’s all good,” or, “It’s over.”

Yet the reality is that most marriages spend much of their time between these two extremes. Where some things are good, some areas are taut with tension and loving thoughts are interspersed with feelings of frustration or even disengagement. And by neglecting to talk about the reality of marriage, we leave those in completely-normal-and-not-always-ideal marriages feeling unsure and isolated.

 

Even the best marriages have bad days.

Or weeks. Even months. Whether from external pressures or changes prompted by internal struggles, there will be times when things are not good. There may be spans of silence, a lingering sense of tension in the air after a difficult conversation or nights spent lonely in separate beds.

When these bad days occur, it can be easy to catastrophize. To assume that a bad day indicates a bad marriage and that this is a sign that the end is near. One partner may be more prone towards panicking, attempting to grasp on in a desperate attempt to stop the imagined slide downhill. This often has the opposite effect, as the one who is latched upon feels increasingly trapped and becomes desperate for escape.

Some bad days pass on their own, especially if their cause is largely centered outside the marriage. Others are a cry for help, a sign that the marriage needs some attention and perhaps modification. And others are just part of the natural ebb and flow of life, expansion followed by contraction. This is one of the reasons that the first year of marriage is often deemed to be one of the most challenging – it follows after the excitement of wedding planning and establishing the relationship. The day-to-day of normal marriage simply can’t live up to that level of expectation.

 

Even the closest couples need time apart.

In the beginning of a relationship, the excitement and novelty leave you counting the minutes until you can be with your newfound love again. It seems impossible that there will ever be a day where you look forward to a trip that takes them out of the home for a few days. But it will happen.

I hear whispered confessions from friends, deeming me a safe receptacle for their secrets, admit to feeling guilty when they let out a little cheer when their spouse pulls out the driveway for a few days of absence. “That’s totally normal,” I reassure them and the relief is palpable.

Too much of anything – or anyone – can easily become too much. With overexposure, appreciation is easily replaced by irritation and small problems begin to accumulate. I like to relate it to ice cream. The stuff is amazing. You maybe even want some every day. But if you have a gallon of it in one sitting, your body is going to rebel. That doesn’t mean that there is anything wrong with you or the refreshing treat; it simply means that you need a break before you can enjoy it again.

 

Even the most compatible couples can struggle to find connection.

When my now-husband and I were first dating, we lived across town from each other. And in the Atlanta metro area, that’s quite the commute. Since we couldn’t see each other more than once or twice a week, we would spend evenings on the phone, chattering on about anything and everything.

It was easy to find things to talk about – not only did we live our days in largely separate worlds, we were still in the process of learning about the other person. Now, eight years later and sharing the same bedroom on most nights, we can go days without a meaningful conversation. The reasons are multifold. Our lives are more overlapping so there is less to share about the day-to-day. At this point, we’ve divulged and discussed our pasts, our passions and our perspectives and since we’re not yet old enough to be forgetful, there simply isn’t a need to cover the same material again. And we’re busy. The activities that were pushed to the side in those early months of the relationship have again found their place, leaving us with little time to connect during an average week.

As a result, there are times when we can feel disconnected. Like we’re crawling in bed with a virtual stranger, who both knows everything about us and yet we have nothing to talk about. And then, we carve out some time to do something new together, even if it’s as simple as dinner at an untried restaurant. The new environment inevitably sends a current through the relationship, reigniting the spark of connection.

 

Even the most agreeable people will have differences of opinion. 

I love my husband, but there are times I think he must be a visitor from another planet. After all, surely no reasonable adult human could actually think that??? In my first marriage, I let those differences of opinion bother me. I would either take it personally (seeing an attack on my viewpoint as an attack on me), allow my mind to be changed or feel threatened by the disparate stances.

It no longer bothers me so much (Unless it’s about school; I get pretty sensitive when people who are not in the academic sphere try to tell me about modern-day school issues.) when we have opposing viewpoints. In fact, I’m more likely to find it interesting (Why do you think that way?) or humorous than threatening. I have learned that it is possible to both love and support someone even while disagreeing with them.

There are some things that are so important that dissent is a sign of trouble, but for most everything else, a difference of opinion is simply a sign that you are two different people. And that’s a good thing.

 

Even the strongest marriages have periods of renegotiation and transition.

There is an immense about of negotiation and compromise that occurs when a relationship first becomes serious. The amount of togetherness is determined, acceptable interactions with the opposite sex are established and relationship patterns are initiated. That period is widely accepted as a precarious one. Some relationships emerge on the other side, stronger and established, while others fail to effectively negotiate a path.

What is less discussed are the inevitable transitions that occur throughout a marriage. As children come and go, job responsibilities shift and health crises seemingly come out of nowhere, the established roles and routines may longer be appropriate. And because we’re creatures of habit and we universally fear loss, these renegotiations are often even more difficult than the initial shift into commitment.

These times of transition are stressful and we often struggle to find the words to describe them adequately. We are uncomfortable with change and with making space for the unknown, especially when our most intimate relationship is threatened. Yet those same uncertain times that scare us also provide us with the most opportunity for growth.

 

Even the most reasonable parters will sometime respond irrationally. 

I am normally a very rational, even analytical, woman. Unless I’m poised at the top of a hill. At which point, I turn into a blubbering child. My husband knows this about me, and so he lovingly becomes extra-patient with me in those moments. My thoughts on a hilltop are not rational, but they are real. At least to me and in that moment.

Most people aren’t as afraid of downhills as I am (thank goodness, or whole industries would be wiped out), but we all have our particular triggers that cause us to behave irrationally and emotionally. And when you’re married to that overreacting person, it’s hard to suppress the urge to declare, “Just what in the hell is wrong with you?” and to respond instead with a combination of compassion and encouragement.

And here’s the hard part – unless we share the same emotional triggers as someone else, it is difficult (if not impossible) to understand where that person is coming from. And when that person is your spouse, that is a frustrating pill to swallow.

 

Even the most loving unions will have times where love is dormant. 

Love is more about action than feeling. There will be times when you don’t feel an overwhelming sense of love or affection for your partner. Some days, irritation and annoyance speak so loudly that they drown out the soft utterances of fondness. The love isn’t gone, but it’s quiet.

It’s important how couples respond to each other in these difficult times. There can be respect even without understanding. Kindness even in the absence of fondness. Tolerance when cooperation is lacking. And above all, a willingness to listen for the sleeping love and the patience to wait for it to stir once again.

 

Related:

Why I Don’t Want a Perfect Marriage

A Growth Mindset in Marriage

A Facebook Marriage: Keep the Smile On Or Else

 

 

 

How We Act When We’re Afraid of Losing Someone

Posted on by stilllearning2b
fear of losing

I remember that day vividly.

My then-husband was in Brazil, supposedly on a work trip. I was at home and unable to reach him when he failed to return to Atlanta at the anticipated time. As the panic rose, I alternated between frantically looking for information on the internet (Was there a plane crash? A tourist attacked in San Paulo? A car crash leaving the Atlanta airport?) and uselessly pacing the upstairs hallway.

I called his employer and received a non-answer. It was only later that I learned that they thought he was still in Atlanta since he wasn’t dispatched on a job.

I saved the number for U.S. Embassy in Brazil, telling myself to hold off until the next day before I made that call.

I contemplated driving to the airport, where at least I would be little closer to any news.

At some point, the anxiety and powerlessness reached untenable levels and I set out for a run, the brick of my flip phone clutched in my hand. I uttered desperate pleas for information as I hit the pavement, the movement a poor substitute for meaningful action.

He came home the next day.

He left for good three months later.

That wasn’t the first time that I was afraid of losing him. In fact, from the moment I “had” him, I worried about the loss of him. 

There was the time when we first started dating that he showed interest in another girl and I pretended that it wasn’t happening until the situation resolved itself. Then, there was the 1969 Ford truck whose headlights had a propensity to cut out while he driving the back roads in the Texas Hill Country. I pleaded with him not to drive that vehicle, convincing myself that he was safe as long as he operated another car. There was a cross-country move while I still remained in Texas for the semester with the unknowns inherent in a long-distance relationship. I compensated that time by planning for our upcoming wedding; surely talk of our futures would keep the plan on track. That was followed by a car accident where his small car ended up underneath an eighteen wheeler. Up until that moment, that was the closest that I had knowingly come to losing him. I responded by breaking down in the living room of my apartment, our pug nervously burrowing into my neck which was wet with tears. Interestingly enough, the fears I should have heeded never even crossed my mind.

Over the course of our sixteen years together, I carried a fear of losing him. And in so many ways, that fear kept me from actually seeing him. I allowed fear to be my chauffeur.

That’s the thing when we’re afraid of losing someone – we take a rational fear (after all, death and divorce are a part of life) and we respond to it in irrational ways – 

 

Fear of losing someone can present as: Denial

Apparently this was my favored approach during my first marriage (although I would have denied it vehemently at the time). Even while my general sense of anxiety built, I refused to examine the little inconsistencies that hinted at something going on behind my back. I was worried about losing him to death (especially as his hypertension continued to worsen); I never imaged that he would leave.

We all have a propensity to shove the unthinkable out of our minds as though if we don’t allow it mental space, it cannot manifest into existence. “It is impossible,” we declare. “They would never…” we insist. “It just can’t happen,” we recite, until we believe it to be true.

I’ve learned since to look more closely whenever I have strong feelings of dismissal arise. It may be that there is something hiding behind those feelings.

 

Fear of losing someone can present as: Bargaining

We know of bargaining as one of the “stages” of grief. What we don’t often consider is that the bargaining begins well before the loss. This often takes the form of, “If you stay, I’ll change.”

Bargaining can feel like a rational approach with its exchange of services. Yet underneath the transaction is an overwhelming aversion to loss, which means the promises made may be too big to deliver and the promises looked for in exchange may not be kept.

 

Fear of losing someone can present as: Control

Sometimes, the attempt at control is overt – the partner that keeps tabs on their spouses whereabouts in an attempt to prevent them from straying. Others are more subtle, operating with a clinginess that limits movement. “I love yous” turned into bindings.

Rarely does this method work. Not only are many things outside of our control, but there is no surer way to push someone away than to tell them they’re not allowed to go.

 

Fear of losing someone can present as: Indulging

I see this one sometimes as a teacher. When I encounter children that are overindulged and encouraged to remain needy, I often learn about a history of miscarriages or infertility or even the death of an older child. The parents, understandably so, are so afraid of losing this child that they hold them in a childlike state even as they grow.

A variation of this presents in adult relationships. The one who is afraid of loss tries to fulfill every need of the other in an attempt to make themselves invaluable. “If you need me, you can’t leave me,” the inner voice insists as they continue to turn themselves inside out to carry out even the unspoken requests.

I found myself starting to do this towards the end of my marriage. It was a subconscious, yet desperate attempt, to keep him with me.

 

Fear of losing someone can present as: Begging

“Please don’t do this this way,” my initial email to my absent husband begged. I still had the fantasy that if only I could talk to him, I could somehow change his mind (this was before I knew the extent of the betrayals).

I felt increasing powerless as my pleas were ignored. The reality is that I had no hope of changing his decision. As an independent creature, he had every right and ability to act as he saw fit.

Begging is the brain’s way of delaying the inevitable. It’s a stall tactic, and nothing more.

 

Fear of losing someone can present as: Panic

This is the most irrational of them all and also the most powerful. This is the death grip on the rope, the worst of the “what ifs” manifested all at once. Sometimes this can be triggered by an event and sometimes it can arise solely from internal worries. Once we’re in this state, it’s difficult to return to reality.

Tiger, the world’s best pit bull, taught me so many things. Not the least of which was how to say goodbye without fear. We loved that dog and were devastated to learn suddenly that he had a fatal bleed from a tumor on his heart. He was only eight.

As the day progressed after the initial veterinary appointment, the news grew worse. We accepted the truth – the end was imminent. My husband and I took him home for a few hours of loving attention before we laid him down on the floor at the vet’s and surrounded him with our bodies.

We weren’t ready to say goodbye. But it was his time to go. Any attempt to keep him with us would have not only been ineffective, it would have cruel and selfish. All we could do is thank him for the time we shared.

Loss is an inevitable part of life. Fearing it does not stop it. Resisting it only serves to make the release that much harder. We rarely get to decide when the end comes. We’re not often offered a choice in the nature or circumstances of the loss.

But what we can alter is how we live between losses.

We can lead with fear, anticipating the end well before it comes.

Or we can lead with love, finding gratitude for what we have.

Love Testing

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Love testing.

It’s one of the reasons that teenagers are difficult to deal with. Before they take the leap out into the adult world, they want the security that comes from knowing that you love them unconditionally. Your words and prior actions are often not sufficient for these temperamental creatures. They want reassurances. They want proof.

Operating below the level of full consciousness, they engage in behaviors and make decisions that they know you disapprove of. They often fail to hide these choices and they may even flaunt them. Of course, some of this is fueled by the teenager’s desire for exploration and their lack of a developed prefrontal cortex.

But that’s not the only motivator.

These undesirable actions are often driven by the teenager’s search for the answer to this question –

“Will you still love even if …”

 

And teenagers aren’t the only ones that engage in love testing. Adults, especially those that have been betrayed or abandoned, can utilize this strategy as well in romantic partnerships. Like the teenagers, these adults are seeking reassurances that the past will not repeated. They are testing the strength of the commitment by weighing it down with  ever-increasing challenges. They want security. Promises. Certainty.

And so they test. Maybe treating their partner with disrespect. Or flirting openly with another person. Or letting the weight begin to comfortably settle around the waist. Or continually breaking up only to pick back up again. Or spending just a little more than was agreed upon. Boundaries are nudged and the reactions observed.

Will you still love if…

There are problems with this approach. Partners are not parents. Their love does have its limits. At some point, the weight tied to the commitment will be too much to bear and their acceptance will be be withdrawn. And that point will inevitably be reached because    no matter how many love tests they’ve passed, until you trust in yourself and your ability to handle whatever may comes, it will never be enough to assuage your insecurity. And regardless of how many transgressions the love survives, there is no such thing as certainty in love.

That’s not to say that love should be welcomed without confirmation. The tests will come naturally over time as life presents you with challenges and obstacles. Take this opportunity to observe how they respond – Do they shut down or shut you out? Do they find refuge in the guise of victimhood and point fingers? Or do they see you as a team and work cooperatively towards resolution or acceptance?

Once we’ve been hurt, we will do anything to avoid being hurt again. But love doesn’t work that way.

As I’ve written before, 

Love is all or none.

If you try to hold it at a distance, you end up pushing it away.

If you attempt to control it, you will inevitably strangle it.

If you build walls and hang back out of a fear of being hurt, you are avoiding the very intimacy that is the foundation of a relationship.

If you punish your new partner for the sins of the old, you are wrapping the new in the cloak of the past.

If you assume that this partner will also hurt you, you are more likely to be hurt again. After all, the dog that you expect to bite often does.

Love is always a risk. Whether you’ve been hurt before or not.

It’s just that those of us who have felt the anguish of an end know exactly what it is we are risking.

And you may decide that it’s not for you. That you’re happier alone and don’t want the risk or the compromises again.

That’s okay. Life is not one size fits all. Tailor your life to your specifications.

But if you do decide you want to let love in, you have to be ready to embrace it. Risks and all.

That ten-foot pole may make you feel safer, but all it’s really doing is keeping love at arm’s length.

Love is all or none.

 

An Open Letter to Those Who Have Been Ghosted by a Partner

Posted on by stilllearning2b
ghosted

I see you.

I know that right now you’re feeling insignificant and discarded. I see you standing there in utter shock, struggling to process how everything changed in an instant. The “before” and “after” alternately body slamming you with the brutal reality. I see you because I was you.

I hear you.

I know that you’re frustrated that your voice, your very right to speak, has been taken from you. I hear your silent screams into the void, the endless question of “why” echoing through the fog. I hear your voice because it follows my own.

I understand you.

I know that you’re questioning everything, running every detail through your mind, worrying each strand of memory like a loose thread. I understand the doubts that are starting to creep in, that you’re wondering what clues you may have missed or even believing that you somehow deserved this on some level. I understand you because I was in that same place several years ago.

The pain and confusion you’re experiencing are totally normal reactions to such a complete and total blow and betrayal.

Being abruptly abandoned without explanation is one of the more painful experiences that life can deliver.

And the first thing you need to understand is that leaving in that manner is a reflection of your ex’s character. Not yours. Some may remind you that relationships take two. And this is true. Yet ending it on this jarring note was a decision made without your cooperation. You may experience judgement from others. Try to be patient with them as they truly don’t understand what it’s like. Even loved ones may seem to blame you. This is often because they cannot bear to imagine this happening to them and so they need to try to make some sense of why this happened to you.

Ghosting is cowardly. Instead of having the difficult conversations and potentially seeing you hurt, they chose to run and hide. That is not healthy adult behavior, especially with a relationship of significant depth and duration. It’s not fair to end a relationship this way. It robs you of any opportunity to ask questions, much less eliminates any chance you may have had to fight for the relationship.

After being ghosted, you are haunted by the unknowns. Those endless questions can drive you crazy. Again, I’ve been there and I took that ride for a time. You may get some answers. It could be that they were seeing someone on the side or that they had amassed secrets that they wanted to keep hidden. I know the temptation to hunt for information is strong; however, I encourage you to keep this urge on a leash. Too much obsession over the reasons for their actions will only serve to bring you more misery. They gave you important information about themselves by leaving this way. Ultimately, that matters more than any details.

Are you desperately looking for closure?

If you’re finding yourself stuck by not knowing what happened like an unfinished puzzle with a lost piece, use what you know to fill in the gaps. Craft a story from the facts you have and your knowledge of your ex. You may not get it right. But it doesn’t matter. Our minds fixate on what is missing. Once you fill in those holes, it gives the brain permission to rest. Here are some more ideas on how you can find closure without your ex’s cooperation.

Perhaps the most cruel part of being ghosted is that the residual doubt and uncertainty lingers and follows you into new relationships. You can easily become anxious, desperate not to be blindsided again. And this worry can easily poison your new relationship if you allow it to simmer. It’s important to learn to trust yourself again. It’s possible that you didn’t signs in your other relationship because you were afraid of what they would mean. Trust that you can not only recognize brewing problems but that you can also face whatever may come.

I’m probably getting a little ahead of myself. Right now, you just want to know how to make the pain end. I wish I could wave a magic wand for you and release the anguish you feel. But I can’t. No one can. Not even your ex.

They are gone.

The way they went about it is cowardly and shitty. Yet the end result is the same. They are gone.

They had all the power in how they chose to end things. You have all the power now in how you choose to move forward.

I’m going to interrupt to share with you a little story about ghosts –

When I was six years old, my parents took me to Disney World. I insisted on waiting in the two-hour line for the haunted mansion ride. They indulged me (yes, I am an only child.) As we approached the front of the line, the details of the house and the spooky sounds playing over the speakers began to frighten me. Panicked, I refused to step inside the attraction.

A short time later, I gathered up my courage and decided that I wanted to brave the ride again. My parents again indulged me, only with some well-deserved grumbles this time.

It turned out that I had built those ghosts up to be way bigger and way more powerful than they were. The fear was within me. The story that they would harm me was one that I was telling myself. And when I walked back out into that Florida sunshine, I felt proud of myself that I had faced those ghosts and made it out the other side.

I know this ghost is different. They have hurt you. Deeply. Yet now they are like a projection in that haunted house – the real danger is over. What’s left is the apparition in your mind. And even that will fade as you again walk back into the light.

You will never forget “the one who ran away.” But don’t waste your life chasing after them. They are not worth your time.

Your love and loyalty and energy are better spent on those that deserve it.

And that includes you.

I see you.

I hear you.

I understand you.

And I believe in you.

Lisa

 

Want to learn more about my story when I was abruptly abandoned by my husband after sixteen years?

 

Are you looking for help recovering from being ghosted? 

 

 

8 Things That Cannot Wait Until Tomorrow

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I used to promise myself that I would have fun as soon as the weekend arrived. And then, I would push it off until the summer. I even let it get to the point where I resigned myself to more work and little play until retirement.

The timing was never quite right to let up on the responsibilities and to bring in the play. So I waited for the timing to be right.

Only it never was.

I changed my perspective once divorce arrived. Suddenly, everything that I had put away until later was gone. The anticipated future with my then-husband would never come.

In that moment, I decided that no matter what else was going on, I would make the time for these eight things because they are too important to put off until tomorrow.

Sometimes I’ve failed at my intention. But that’s okay (see number six below). Life is not about being perfect; it’s about being present. And by having an awareness of these eight things every day, you are fully present and making the most of your life.

 

1 – Appreciation

Have you said “thank you” today? Have you taken a moment to express gratitude for something or someone in your life? Have you shared your appreciation for others with others?

Gratitude is one of the most powerful tools we have. When we make the effort to consciously feel thankful, we are able to focus on our riches rather than on the perceived lack in our lives. When we express appreciation, we let others know that they are seen and valued.

Appreciation alters your view and shapes your reality. That’s some pretty powerful stuff. Why would you put that off when you can begin to use it today?

 

2 – Apologies

Some apologies happen in the moment (think of the knee-jerk “I’m sorry” that follows an accidental bump in a crowd). Others – the big ones – often get shelved. At first, we may refrain from taking responsibility. After all, the ego likes to point fingers. Then, even when we do become aware of our part, it may feel awkward or even scary to admit our wrongdoings and express remorse for any harm that it has caused.

While you’re waiting, the other person may be trapped within a narrative that they’ve constructed around the event, believing that they’re not worthy or deserving of an apology. It’s not easy to take responsibility for causing harm (especially when it’s unintentional), but it is the right thing to do. Saying sorry doesn’t mean that they will accept your apology, but it does mean that they are no longer waiting on you.

 

3 – Health

Health – or the lack thereof – has been prominent in my thoughts of late. I’m at an age where people’s lifestyle choices and/or genetics are beginning to catch up with them and my friends and coworkers are beginning to receive difficult diagnoses (Including my husband, who will go through cervical fusion next month. Based on his MRI, it’s good he didn’t postpone seeing the doctor.). In some cases, I’ve seen them adopt the “I’ll start tomorrow” attitude towards their health for years, delaying better choices or medical appointments in the belief that they still have time. And sadly, sometimes they don’t.

Whenever I have those days when I don’t feel like exercising or preparing healthier foods (because let’s face it, when we’re tired and stressed, ice cream and the couch sounds better than broccoli and a run), I remind myself that I’m lucky to have the opportunity to make better choices today. Because we never know what tomorrow may bring.

 

4 – Passions

What makes you, you?

We all have our passions, those interests that tiptoe into obsession and provide a sense of purpose and fulfillment. And we have (almost) all experienced the dearth of those passions when life’s demands and distractions increase.

Depending upon your particular interest, you may not be able to fully dive into it every day (I’m thinking of a friend here who loves to climb mountains). However, you can still do something every day that feeds into your passion (my mountain-clmibing friend enjoys planning her next adventure and spends time training her body for its demands).

Rediscover whatever it is that makes you feel alive. And then do it, at least a little bit, every day. Otherwise, you’re telling yourself that you’re not important and your passions don’t matter.

 

5 – Love Yous

It saddens me how many people I know that have never heard the words “I love you” from a parent or a spouse. Even when love is expressed in other ways (see The Five Love Languages for details) or is deemed to be understood (common in the case of parent to child), those words matter.

Make sure that the people in your life never have to wonder if you love them. Say the words. Write the words. Sing them if you want. Take the time to let the ones you love know that you love them. You don’t want to wait because tomorrow could be too late.

 

6 – Forgiveness

Forgiveness is a loaded word. In the way I’m using it here, it means that you let go of the weight of the wrongdoing that was done to you. It doesn’t require an apology, it doesn’t need a pardon. It simply says, “This is your burden to carry and I choose to let go of it.”

Often, the hardest person to forgive is ourselves. We give others the benefit of the doubt and turn a critical eye within. Forgiving yourself is a recognition that you were doing the best you could at the time and a promise that now that you know better, you’ll do better.

Anger, bitterness and self-flagellation are a heavy burden. Why would you wait until tomorrow to lighten your load?

 

7 – Smiles and Laughter

There are times in life when smiles are plentiful. And then there are those days or weeks or months when it seems as though the tears are a permanent fixture. It can feel wrong to give yourself permission to smile or to laugh during tragedy or even during periods of sustained effort and drudgery. So we often wait to smile until life brings us something to smile about.

There is certainly something to be said for acceptance, for understanding that sometimes life is just hard. And there’s even more to be said for being able to find the humor and the levity in any situation. Whoever taught you that laughter and tears are mutually exclusive was mistaken; they can go hand-in-hand. Make a habit of finding the smiles in every day.

 

8 – Mindfulness

We recently returned from a four-night cruise. One of my favorite parts was being disconnected from technology for the duration. After a brief period of discomfort from being away from the onslaught of information and, yes, distraction, I was amazed at how content I could be, well…just being.

Whether you follow a structured meditation practice, participate in prayer, use exercise as a form of moving meditation or simply take time out of your day to pause and breathe, mindfulness helps to reduce anxiety and increase a sense of peace. We often neglect this practice because it feels wasteful to take time out of our busy schedules to do nothing. Yet that space that nothing allows is exactly what our brains crave in order to be healthy. In other words, taking time out is too important to put off.