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When you’re unsure and asking, “What should I do?”

/ Julia Aziz / Leave a comment

As I write this, I’m watching birds nibble from the bird feeder out my window. They love when the feeder is full; they visit many times throughout the day. When the feeder is empty, they go elsewhere. Seeking direction on our own life questions, could the next steps somehow be as clear? 

Uncertainty is intrinsic to this human adventure, so asking “What should I do?” makes sense. But who gets to determine the answer? Are we meant to follow what other people do? What they say they do? What most people do? 

The problem in looking to outward authority is that no one else is living our whole story. No other person has experienced our childhood, our lineage, our hardships, and our particular gifts and blessings. There is no end to the influencers, gurus, teachers, and leaders who will speak authoritatively on how to live a life. But they too are unique and fallible human beings, no matter how wonderful, wise, or worldly.

What works for some doesn’t necessarily work for all. So what if we junk the “should” question, and wonder instead,

“What will I do?”

A question like this can feel silly, trivial, like child’s play. Maybe that’s because it points towards a subtle, innate way of discerning the dominant Western paradigm has taught us to dismiss rather than claim. Play with the question when feeling in need of advice, and perhaps in time, a phrase, an image, a sensation, a flash of remembrance–some tiny pull towards what’s next might come along. 

Or maybe no response arrives. It may not be the right time to know.

Maybe instead, it’s an opportunity to shed some material things and obligations we don’t really need. 

With the extra time and space, we’ll see what happens next. Maybe follow what feels natural from there.

With more bird seed in that feeder, undoubtedly more birds will come. They go towards what nourishes them. We can remember how too.

Believing in us, and in you,

Julia Aziz

PS- Could you use some deeper support in accessing your own felt truth as you navigate challenging times? See different group and individual offerings here. And if you’re curious about this topic and related contemplations, please do sign up for my mailing list.

Image by Les Bohlen from Pixabay. I’m not quick enough to capture the birds!

When you need to push through and keep going

/ Julia Aziz / Leave a comment

“I’ve got a lot going on.”

“I may not like this process, but I need to push through.”

“I would love to take a break, but there’s too much to take care of.”

These sound familiar? Whether it’s a crisis, a big life change, social action, or relentless responsibilities, sometimes we need to answer the call of necessity–no matter how we’re feeling about it. The question is how to push through with vitality, rather than straining to the point of collapse.

It reminds me of a time when my seventeen-year-old sedan gave up on the hill of a highway frontage road. Cars were speeding by, blaring their horns, but there was no hope of revival. Luckily I was able to coast down to the exit, landing on the side of the road. That car had had enough. It had been pushed too far and too long, without the maintenance it needed to keep going. 

No one wants to be that old car! If we’re going to do more–for our work, for our families, for our communities–we will need to do more to sustain ourselves too. Sure, we’d all prefer a break to a breakdown. But when life is too full to take time off, we might have to take what I’ll call “time in.”

“Time in” might look like purposefully moving a little slower than our regular pace, especially during a busy day. Listening to a bird sing during a rare pause in the action, rather than checking email. It’s like the old Zen teaching on lengthening your meditation when you have less time to sit. Need to do more? Do less too.

“Time in” might also look like an intentional mini-breakdown. In a safe space, a good cry, a wild tantrum, or a full somatic anxiety release can relieve some of the tension that comes from having to keep it together. A little rest afterwards, and it can be just the right medicine for getting back up and keeping on going.

But hey, sometimes self-care can feel like just one more thing, so if that sounds like too much, it’s not necessary. The pressure to stay on top of everything is like the pressure of those passing drivers blaring their horns: it’s not going to solve the problem, it’s only going to stress us out more. Better to give up on being superhuman!

When the long road ahead is worth the trouble, we’ll each find a way through. 

I respect that there are times in life that require more of us. It can even be empowering to know we can step up when needed. Other times, it just doesn’t work to say “C’mon, get up, you can do this! What do you need to push through?” In these situations, maybe there’s a downshift, a “Here I am. Here’s my capacity. Now what will I do with it?”

Wishing you replenishing rest stops wherever you can find them, and a bit of coasting downhill too, 

Julia Aziz

PS- Need some supported time-in? Check out my individual therapy or the Release & Empower Women’s Group Program. And be sure to sign up for my mailing list; you’ll receive some free, easy ways to love yourself through all the ups and downs of life.

Image by Tobias Brunner from Pixabay

Orienting in uncertainty

/ Julia Aziz / Leave a comment

This past summer I got to have another face-to-face encounter with a black bear. I was going down the winding mountain trail, she was going up, and we both stopped short upon meeting each other. I took a small step back to give her more space, trying not to fall off the mountainside. She quickly sussed me out, then turned and headed into the forest. I stood there watching her go, wistful and graced.

Every time I see a bear, I’m struck by the relaxed, easeful way they move. When they encounter something unexpected, they’re immediately alert and responsive. Then they go back to being relaxed again. Wouldn’t this be a powerful way to approach the uncertainty of our times? Relaxed and responsive, calm and available to act when needed. I like it!

I think about bears more often than most, but I still get the shock of “Oh! This is really happening now!” when I actually see one. Most of life is not so compelling. This kind of wake up call to aliveness is harder to come by when paying bills or brushing teeth. Though those mundane tasks may be exactly where more presence could help!

It makes me think of my dear friend Svenja, who died this past spring on the precipice of becoming an empty-nester. Sven was a master of savoring the moment, someone I could always count on to both dive deep and find humor in all things. On hospice care in her final weeks, one of the last texts she sent me said:

“I don’t feel like talking, It’s all a bunch of Hoo Ha. I just want to see stuff and taste stuff…”

It is all a bunch of Hoo Ha, isn’t it? We only get the moments we get. It’s a gift when we fully experience the small, everyday sensory experiences while they’re here. After all, this is really happening right now!

The point isn’t to be commanding “Be grateful!” at ourselves or each other in the little moments. Like Sven, who didn’t like to be too precious about things, we can take the pressure off. Savoring is not clinging–it fiercely appreciates then lets go. Savor and release. Relax and respond. Here and now, here and now.

I used to build forts in the woods with the neighbor kids when I was young. Storms would come, we would forget about these refuges for a while, then we’d go back and have to refortify. I think we’re in a time of inner fortification right now. We’re remembering what matters, replenishing the strength and courage we’ll need as our collective human story continues. My question is, what is this time of change asking of you?

Wishing you time to reflect, savor, and fortify—not just now, but any time you need to,

Julia Aziz

PS–If you’d like more support navigating these challenging times, we have spots available in the next season of Release & Empower: A Group Program for Women Moving Through Change. Or if you’d prefer individual counseling, please check out my psychotherapy page.

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When you’re asking “Why is this happening?”

/ Julia Aziz / Leave a comment

I was walking along a forest trail a few months ago when a scrambling sound came from high up above. Then suddenly a turtle came rolling down the hillside, landing shell-side-up in front of my feet! Many of you know how much I love a good nature metaphor, but I’ve been contemplating this falling turtle for a while, and I haven’t been able to make much sense of it. (Don’t worry about the turtle though, he was stunned but OK!)

One of the most common questions I hear is “Why?” Why do I feel this way? Why is so-and-so behaving like this? Why is this issue coming up again when I thought I already dealt with it? A lot of people come to therapy with these kinds of why questions. It’s often a genuine wish for understanding, a hope that by seeking answers, clarity and resolution will arrive. Yet all sorts of dynamics are at play in any given situation. Our human perspective isn’t wide or nuanced enough; we can only analyze so far until we’re going in circles. Living on this earth planet in this vast galaxy, there’s a lot more to life than we can possibly get a grip on.

When I was a young person entering the professional fields of mental health and spirituality, I was seeking answers to many “why’s”. Now when I catch myself asking “why,” I turn towards the “how”. How do I live this? Sometimes that “how” might include deep somatic or expressive processing; sometimes it might involve simply accepting what is and turning towards the next small step. Without answers to seek, we can take our time, slowly living our way through.

Turtle

When we dig deeper, sometimes what’s hard isn’t so much the lack of understanding, but the wish for the past, or the present, to be different. Maybe we’re looking for someone or something to blame–or maybe we feel guilty and ashamed because we blame ourselves. You know what I say to that? F-it. Don’t let the spiritual bully get you. Stumble, fall down, sit still, keep going, whatever you need to do. Like that adventurous turtle that didn’t know what was coming, we adapt as we go. While we may not arrive at complete answers, we’ll have a new story to tell.

Wishing you some ease and kindness towards yourself,

Julia Aziz

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Photo by Bogdan Costin on Unsplash. Photo is of a different turtle than the one I saw hurtle down the hill, but I can assure you, my turtle friend survived and went on his merry way.

Changes that feel uncomfortable, inevitable, and not quite here yet

/ Julia Aziz / Leave a comment

“Things feel uncomfortable, uncertain, surreal.”

“I know something is changing, but I have no idea what’s next.”

“I’m not sure what’s happening, how I feel, or why!”

I’ve been hearing these themes a lot lately. Some feel they’re at an unfamiliar crossroads; others are grappling with existential questions. In this Great Unsettling, it seems as if one phase is shifting without us knowing what the next one will be. Like driving through a fog and missing all the signposts, it’s a vulnerable time to be moving through.

What’s exhausting you could be your vehicle of transformation

If we accept the truth of what’s happening now, we can “offer up” our weariness, confusion, and existential uncertainty. Offering means we let what is hard for us become sacred. We acknowledge that the road ahead runs precisely through the territory we like to avoid, and we take that road in the spirit of soul growth, with courage. Surrendering some resistance, we may feel more open to receive from unexpected directions.

Changing the questions we’re asking

When we can say “I don’t know” honestly, with open curiosity, “What’s the point?” may no longer be such a heavy question. There’s something about admitting lack of control that frees up the mind to see things differently. We come back to what’s in front of us right here. Rather than “What do I do?” we might ask, “What do I do next?”

Remembering where to find the inner compass

I’ve never been one for roller coasters or winding mountain roads. I feel that instability deep in my core, right away! Maybe you’ve got the stomach for turbulence, though you still may not feel thrilled by the ride of personal and collective change. It helps to know if there’s a voice inside saying “Aghhhhhhh!!!”, there’s also one that’s good at handling things. It’s the part of us that shows up for other people when they need it. That competent, fierce, adaptable part has a better sense of direction than the tired and frightened inner child. In this new terrain, we might intentionally ask the inner adult to take the wheel.

New rules to the game? 

There’s not just one insight that changes everything, and then we’re good to go forever more. So much spiritual seeking seems to have this flavor of “if I just change in this one way, I’ll be golden, and then I can finally coast.” Who came up with this silliness? Everything alive on this earth is in some cyclical process. Life is temporary; the mystery of life is always. 

Upwards Spiral image

If you’re struggling to find your way, I hope you reach out and ask for some help. We’re really not meant to be doing all this life stuff alone. When there’s too much constriction to let in support, clearing some things out can make all the difference. Change, of course, requires some creativity–and undoing.

Wherever we go, I’m glad to be on this wild ride with you,

Julia Aziz

PS- Here’s a little off-the-cuff, less than two minute audio to support you in these strange times: Get the “Rapid Reset for Instability” practice audio.

When what you want is not happening

/ Julia Aziz / Leave a comment

You may have heard my bear stories before, but I’ve recently been thinking about one I met this summer in the Appalachian mountains. I had begun my morning walk a little later than usual, and as I reached the top of the road, a young black bear crossed my path. She stopped and looked at me, as I stopped and looked at her. Deciding I was not a bother, she kept walking and even let me follow not far behind for a while. I could wax on about her grace and the deep gratitude I felt in seeing her, but that’s not what this story is about. What struck me was that had I not been delayed in getting out that morning, I would have missed her entirely.

Timing is a funny thing, and not all unexpected happenings are welcome. Despite knowing we are just tiny beings with limited life spans on a spinning planet in a vast galaxy, we get pulled into the collective societal consciousness that assumes we can take charge here. The conditioning of western culture makes us believe we should decide what we want and make it happen, otherwise we’re doing something wrong. So of course when things don’t go our way, we blame ourselves–or other people. Some of us respond by pushing our agenda harder; others fall into indecision and inertia. Either way, we lose the sense of being in the flow, in right timing. So what other options are there when life seems to be saying “no” or “not now”?

Rather than pretending to be ok, what if we let our reactions run their course? As in, “Hey sweetie, you’re allowed to be frustrated, disappointed, and even resentful. It’s OK to feel how you feel. Take your time, and let the waves come and go.”

What if we get curious about the obstacles that have shown up, asking, “What is there to learn here, and what more support might I need?”

Or maybe this is a resting time, not a doing time, and things just need a chance to work themselves out. What if we let go of trying to figure it all out?

In releasing what “should have been” and turning in a new direction, something else might even show up around the corner.

It takes a different kind of strength to slow down, accept what’s not happening, and look for the gifts that do show up. Underneath the conditioning, we are, like all sentient beings, wild and resilient, designed to adapt to change. We can unlearn some of the ways we’ve been enculturated and remember the innate call to harmonize with life and its timing. The old paradigm fights to maintain dominance and control, but there are more of us who want peace than not; we can start on the inside, wherever we’re at. 

May you feel more and more like your authentic self
Living a life full of curious synchronicities
Following the path as it reveals itself.

Walking with you,

Julia Aziz

*As soon as I took out my phone to take the picture of the bear, she felt it. Turned around and saw that I was still following her, then headed off into the forest. It’s not a great pic but it’s the real deal!

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When you feel lost and uncertain, remember we are just bitty things on this vast earth. The bigger pattern can't be seen from where we stand. It's OK to not know.

When you need a real refresh to keep going

/ Julia Aziz / 2 Comments

The summer intensity has been calling me back toward waterfalls again. This year, I’ve been playing with shifting my listening from one spot to the next, noticing how water bouncing off small rocks makes a tinkling sound under the noisy rush from heights above. The cascade’s separate sprays are like a crowd of different voices all talking at once, reminding me of the input overload so many of us feel these days. I try to hear one stream or another until I give up, listen to the whole chorus of voices together, and let it become one current, one being, one song. 

Sounds lovely, right, but how on earth do we let the current of our modern times sing us a song rather than slip us off the edge and take us down with it? “Go with the flow” won’t cut it. If we go with the flow of the collective, we are going down a dark vortex of strife and fear. So let’s pause for a moment from the many streams of deep grief, trauma, injustice, and tyranny and see if we can shift how we’re listening.

One of the aspects of waterfalls that strikes me this year is that the water only makes sound because of the rock. The flow is not separate from the hard places. I, like many, would usually prefer things progress forward in a direct line. But that’s not the way water, or life, moves. It curves over, under, and around the hard places, finding any way it can to keep flowing. We, too, must make contact with the rocky edges in ourselves and meander the curves to follow the course. The music is in keeping on.

I recently visited the waterfall I fell down a few years ago, and it, like many things, has changed. Time and weather has rearranged it. I’m a bit rearranged too, and maybe so are you. The way I see it, my Number One Job right now is to release negative thoughts and emotional tension as frequently as possible, so the waters don’t get muddied and stagnant, stuck in a puddle of doom. Letting go makes way for the flow to continue, showing the next right move at the next right time. We may want to get ahead of ourselves and hurry a plan, but like the water, the nature of life here on earth is that we move through what’s current before knowing what’s next. 

Releasing and renewing sounds easier than it is to remember and do. But I believe in you because if you can take a moment out of your busy day to read this, it means you can take a moment to refresh your mind, body, and precious heart too. If that sounds improbable or impossible, it’s time for more support. Support from people, the water, the birds, the ground, the breath, the body–much is available when we ask and open to it.

May the chorus of the world sound to you like perennial permission to pause and re-source yourself, so you can get back up stronger again and again and again.

With kindness,
Julia Aziz

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When you’re not sure how you or other people are changing

/ Julia Aziz / Leave a comment

Have you ever thought you knew someone well and later discovered a side of them you had never seen before? My brother has been transcribing some letters my grandmother wrote when she was engaged to my grandfather but living apart in New York and Chicago. Nineteen-year-old Helen Yarmush teases her beloved with tales of her dates with other men and says things like, “It’s been a beautiful day today–a day to run in the wind (which I did) and laugh and sing.” The Helen Zimmerberg I got to know three decades later was a mother of four who had already lost her first daughter to ovarian cancer and was undergoing chemo and radiation for lymphoma herself. I’ve cherished my memories of Helen’s sense of humor and ability to make the best out of most anything, and I delight in this free spirit I’m seeing now at her 20th yahrzeit (death anniversary). What a gift it is to discover something new in someone I haven’t seen for so long and to be reminded of how multi-faceted we all are.

If you feel different from who you were a couple years ago, perhaps your friends do too. Maybe you’ve lost some relationships, accepted casualties in these divisive times. What if you’ve lost yourself a bit too? In transition, most everything is incomplete and tender. You may feel in between what is no longer authentic and what is not yet grown. Are we willing to meet anew in this wobbly place, or will we try to connect the way we did before and seek only the parts of each other we used to know? I believe there is an in-between place, a place to cherish the familiar, unique essence which doesn’t alter over time while making room to see what else is emerging–in ourselves and in each other. We meet at this crossroads when we unfurl the grasp on old ideas and become willing to not understand. Like this walk through the fog at dawn, perhaps we begin by trusting the path that shows itself, finding beauty in what is not yet clear.

My grandma Helen had strong opinions, yet what was special about her was that she would change those opinions in an instant when more information came in. This wasn’t confusion or ambivalence; it was a permission she gave herself to change her mind and to make new choices as she learned better. It reminds me of something anyone who has been in a workshop, retreat, or the release and empower women’s circle with me has probably heard me say: “Let’s not hold onto anything that’s shared here. These are snapshots of present moment experiences, ones we honor but don’t carry around as your identity forever more. You’re free to show up the same or differently every time.” I’d like to offer this same invitation to anyone reading these words today. To you, who has gifted your attention here, willing to join me in the field of unknowing. Let’s let each other change and evolve, as slowly as we need to. 

With peace in the heart and health in the body,

Julia Aziz

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Beautiful Mistakes & Life U-Turns

/ Julia Aziz / Leave a comment

The other day, my 10-year-old asked if she could teach me how to paint wildflowers. While I am a person who delights in all forms of creativity, art has always been the most challenging for me. I can throw some colors on a piece of paper, but ask me to visually represent a specific object, and you’ll receive something that looks like a young child made it. My daughter, however, has taken many hours to master the art of small flower watercolor painting. As she demonstrated her techniques, I followed along but couldn’t quite get my messy blob petals to match her delicately formed ones. “Beautiful mistakes,” we decided to call my stray colors. “Because when you make a mistake, you can keep going and make something new and beautiful out of it.”

I try to be mindful of my language around this topic, as even the word “mistake” implies there is one right way you can get wrong. Some of us learned early: good girls follow directions. If you do what you’re told, you won’t stand out or get into trouble. We can hide behind this facade of who we think we’re supposed to be for decades. What starts as protection from criticism can easily become a cage with no room for individuality or creativity. Keeping up appearances by trying to stay inside the lines can drain our essential life force to near empty.

The old way, the way of perfectionism says:

Get it right the first time. Don’t make a mess. Don’t be a bother.

Really though, haven’t we had enough of this already? Life is messy! It just is. The artistry of my life–my decisions, the ways I fail, the ways I grow–doesn’t match the artistry of yours, and thank goodness! Our messes make us unique. I think of a flower with a torn petal. Shall we toss it to the wind for being imperfectly symmetrical, or will we cherish its fragile beauty? 

If you’re someone who finds her/his/their self caught in this perfectionist prison, what would happen if you fell out of character once in a while? It can be scary to forgo the filter and start responding authentically. Being raw and real, even with self-consciousness, is a service though: we help other humans feel better about making mistakes and being seen too. When we forgive ourselves for not always getting it right, we don’t become more self-absorbed and narcissistic. We become more available. There is more of us to give to others when we’re not busy fighting ourselves. 

Old patterns get entrenched and so often release slowly, with intentional practice. My personal practice lately has been about embracing with compassion, curiosity, and humor what I’ve been calling “life U-turns”. A life U-turn is when we get invested in a new idea for change and go full throttle towards it, only to say “never mind” some steps in. When we do a U-turn, we head back to where we came from with a different point of view. Was it a personal flaw that caused us to move toward that new direction in the first place? Was precious time wasted doing the wrong thing? Or is it possible the “mistake” re-affirmed some essential value we still hold, allowing what was too familiar to be discovered anew. 

Mistakes clarify direction; coloring over the lines helps us think outside the box. I say “Hallelujah!” to this trial and error path forward. As we return to public life, what used to be commonplace feels novel and pretty bumpy. I hope to appreciate even the awkward moments, navigating new boundaries and getting used to each other again. Shall we give it a try, even with our differences? Slowly, let’s stumble forward and rediscover each other’s wholeness again.

Wishing you ever deepening breaths and the gift of seeing beauty in unexpected places,

Julia Aziz

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PRACTICE UPDATES

If you’ve been curious about working together in 1-1 sessions, listening to the first 10-15 minutes of this recent podcast interview will give you a better idea of what my practice is like. If you listen further, you’ll also hear stories about how I became a therapist and what working as an interfaith hospice chaplain taught me. While the title of the interview is Grief and Loss, and we do talk quite a bit about death and dying, it’s also about embracing the inherent discomfort of change. Give a listen if you like!

The next season of the Release & Empower Women’s Circle is open for registration, so check it out!

On burnout, waiting, and wonder

/ Julia Aziz / 1 Comment

You might find this strange and a little gross, but the other day I spent some time watching a beetle roll a little balll of dung across the road. I became fascinated by his perseverance and how he naturally made use of what for most living beings on earth is just poop. I don’t know much about dung beetles, but it strikes me on a metaphoric level how we need this kind of resourcefulness in our current world. What creativity could transform what we must leave behind into something sustainable and life-giving?

The most common refrain I’m hearing from folks these days is “I just wish I knew when this pandemic would end.” There is a lot of sadness with this question, as no one can offer anything but predictions or false promises. Maybe there is a higher authority on the subject though. Nature tells us:

Everything changes.
Change happens on its own time.

Many humans in the modern western world use plans for comfort. We want to know what to expect, and we like to have something to look forward to. In some ways, we’ve forgotten how to wonder, how to give our full attention to the lived experience of now. Perhaps there is some connection here to the dung the beetle was pushing across the road. I wonder, what ways of thinking make us feel worse, and how can we digest and eliminate them for the higher good?

I also spent time last week watching some turkey vultures. I’ve never understood why these majestic birds are so underappreciated and almost feared. It’s captivating, the way they circle the skies above, feeding on what has completed its life cycle here. These birds live because other creatures die. In this, they embody rebirth. The vultures teach us that a new cycle begins out of the one that came before. Everything is made use of here, in this place we live. 

When we let go of the individual pursuit of happiness as such a supreme cultural value, perhaps compassion can be reborn. When the experts can’t give us good answers, maybe we’ll witness a rebirth in honoring curiosity and intuition. As I see it, we don’t need more gurus, we need more empathic, creative people who trust themselves and each other. I’m not trying to draw a silver lining around a very dark cloud. The weariness and the grief are real and everywhere. Still, I believe in us. I believe in our resilience and in our ability to make changes for the better. 

A friend who is more like a sister to me lives in the redwoods in California, and the fires this summer came within a quarter mile of her house. She told me after the weeks of smoke, flames, and devastation, the birds were the first animals to return to the forest. The birds, of course, were the ones who could most gracefully leave and most easily return. Their protection lies not in being the strongest fighters, but in being the lightest on their feet. Who is to say what’s most needed right now in our own personal and collective struggles. All I know is there are some great teachers living amongst us who have been there all along. We may have to open the door and look outside to find them.

May you feel the support of the ground, the possibility of the sky, and the beauty of your own true nature,

Julia

PS– If you’re a helper or healer longing to feel yourself again, consider joining us in the Release & Empower online program for regular mental, emotional, and physical release. It’s self-care accountability and spiritual renewal in good company. As of the time of this writing, I also have two openings for individual holistic psychotherapy. And all are welcome to check out this new home practice support book: When You’re Having A Hard Time: The Little Book That Listens. 

PPS– Sending some extra love to all those who are grieving the loss of a loved one this year. Big big hugs to you.