Noticing & Naming: A Monthly Practice

Chasing the light, letting go of "should," and feeling without shame

November was full of time with friends, a delicious (and sun-soaked!) Thanksgiving, and two weeks of fighting off a cold. As the holidays hover with all their potential for chaos and peace, grief and joy, I hope you’re able to pay attention to the details of your days and to name a thing or two that can bring some clarity. Here are a few reflections on November plus some questions for you to carry with you the rest of the month.

Seven Things I Noticed

I’m trying to pay attention to the world around me and to the details of my days. Sometimes these observations may lead to bigger realizations, but other times, the act of noticing is enough. Here are seven things I noticed in November:

1. The lingering leaves looked dusty last month, not nearly as vibrant as October. But occasionally I’d spot a tree that still had most of its leaves, and it was delightful—a burst of color in an increasingly brown landscape.

2. A desire to get smaller, to impose new boundaries and limits, to focus on my community and things within my control.

3. Enjoying a giant charcuterie board with friends is nourishing in more ways than one.

   

4. I’m chasing light in all its forms, choosing to sit in the front room more than usual to catch the direct sunlight, staring at the sunset from my desk, lighting candles, and plugging in the Christmas tree or the lights on the mantel any time I’m in the same room.

5. The rust and white tiled floor at my favorite coffee shop of my college years. I spent a few hours there with a friend last month, and that place brought back a sense of my former self. So much has changed since that season of life, and yet some remnants remain, like that scuffed, well-worn floor.

6. Snow sparkling like confetti as it fell off branches outside our windows.

7. How much my sister-in-law and I smiled during Wicked.

A watercolor of my college coffee shop that I bought while I was there.

Three Things I Named

I have a loud internal life, and naming what’s going on on the inside helps to quiet things down. When we can put thoughts and emotions into words, fear begins to lose its power, next steps come into focus, and we realize we’re not actually alone. Here are three things I named last month:

1. I am limited.

This sounds painfully obvious—of course my time, energy, and capacity are limited. But lately, I’ve noticed how much the word should is popping up as I think about my time. My schedule is flexible, so I should be able to do fill-in-the-blank. But, as has always been the case, saying yes to one thing means saying no to many others. The days are still only so long, and I have to choose how to prioritize my time and energy, especially with my writing—the work no one is asking me to do. Resistance takes many forms, and sometimes it looks like really good things that I think I should have time for.

2. Telling myself I shouldn’t feel a certain way is about as useful as telling the sky it shouldn’t rain.

Especially when feelings are extra raw, I tend to a) feel shameful about them, and then b) try to talk myself out of feeling that way. I logic my way out of it: Here are all the reasons you should feel differently. (Should appears to be a theme this month.) But emotions show up on their own accord, and sometimes they surprise us. Twice last month, I found myself in tears after breathing deeply at the end of a yoga session. I wasn’t immediately sure what the tears were about, but when I gave them space, reasons rose to the surface. Our emotions always make sense in context.

Perhaps should applies more in the realm of how we react to our emotions: what we say and do in light of them. (There’s still so much freedom here, but there are some clearer things we shouldn’t do, like lashing out at someone else.) But we’re allowed to feel our emotions. In fact, we need to. Instead of shaming ourselves for feeling some kind of way, we can get curious: Why is that emotion showing up? What is it trying to tell me? What do I need right now?

3. Unmade decisions (even small ones) carry weight.

I am naturally hesitant, prone to looking at all the sides of a thing before moving. And when I do that with loads of decisions each day, even minute ones, I tend to get fatigued. All of those unmade decisions take up a lot of space in my brain.

It’s easy to dismiss the weight of this because, on the surface, most of these decisions are not that big of a deal. I could go this way or that. Either one would be fine. But ignoring the compounding effect of decisions-to-be-made isn’t helpful. It’s better to name it for what it is before I begin to spiral. Once I’ve done that, any little movement helps. If I can take one step forward on something (text someone a question, make a list, run one errand, etc.), the weight lessens a bit and other things start to seem more manageable.

Marty seems to be chasing the light these days too.

Questions for Your Practice

1. Where is the word should showing up in your life right now? Considering the current limits on your time, energy, and capacity, how could you reframe that thought?

2. What are you saying yes to this month? By extension, what does that mean you’re saying no to?

3. Have you tried to talk yourself out of feeling something recently? If so, can you name the emotion? What do you think it’s trying to tell you?

4. What unmade decisions are you carrying into the holidays and the end of the year? How are those impacting you? What’s one small step you can take today to create some movement?

Words That Resonated

In an effort to give us more language for our lives, here are three quotes that stuck with me last month:

“We have to fight for our ability to pay attention. It is not given. It does not assert itself as a need until it’s far too late.” —Katherine May, Enchantment

“When I lay these questions before God I get no answer. But a rather special sort of ‘No answer.’ It is not the locked door. It is more like a silent, certainly not uncompassionate, gaze. As though He shook His head not in refusal but waiving the question. Like, ‘Peace child; you don’t understand.’ Can a mortal ask questions which God finds unanswerable? Quite easily, I should think. All nonsense questions are unanswerable. How many hours are there in a mile? Is yellow square or round? Probably half the questions we ask—half our great theological and metaphysical problems—are like that.” —C. S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

“We must begin with honoring—respecting the inherent dignity and value that we and our fellow image bearers share. We honor our stories, our pain, and the actual flesh-and-blood realities we live with. There is no bypassing reality, and there is no bypassing the bodies that have carried us in and through this reality. This is where we must begin. Not because all truth is found here, but because without our whole selves there can be no true healing. When we experience difficulty through the lens of respect and dignity, we are more likely to be able to move through what comes our way.” —Aundi Kolber, Strong Like Water

Thanks for reading! With you as we shed should and keep chasing the light this month.

Links to books are affiliate links, so I’ll receive a small commission if you make a purchase. Whether you buy them or find them at the library, all of the books I mentioned are well worth the read!