Wellness – Page 5 – Britt Skrabanek

Releasing Your Books So They Can Find Love Again

This post is going to horrify some of you. I’m willing to write it anyway, because I did something I never thought I would do. Something that took courage, something that took a lot of soul-searching, something that has already changed my life in just one week…

I decluttered my books.

I feared sharing this project with my bookworm friends would end badly, with an mob of intellects standing at my front door with pens instead of pitchforks. But the response was positive on Twitter—unless you all just favorited Aphrodite the panda cat photobombing this one.

Living in a studio, there is only so much clutter one can have. But when you’re living in a smaller space, the clutter you do have is very obvious. You have to get crafty with storage solutions, there is constant rearranging, and no matter what you do…it still feels messy.

In preparation for spring cleaning—something I always do in the winter so I can enjoy the beautiful weather when it comes—I read two books.

My mom and my sister received copies of Clear Your Clutter for their birthdays, because I knew they would love it. I flew through the book and it opened my eyes to a lot of decluttering ways I hadn’t considered before. The main question to ask yourself…does this lift me? If it doesn’t, you toss it.

Clear Your Clutter was my first time reading about getting rid of books, and I laughed. I cleaned out my closets and my bathroom—my books stayed put.

Then I read The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up. Without the feng shui aspect, this book is very straightforward about what you need to do—get rid of some shit.

But before you do, lay everything out so you can see it. If you’re working on your clothes, that means you pull out everything from your dresser and closet. Then you need to touch every item and make a decision…does this spark joy? Once again books were mentioned, but this time I listened to the argument.

If you’ve been lugging around books for years that are just collecting dust for the sake of decoration, is that bringing you joy? If you’re hanging onto books that someone gave to you that you will never read, old college textbooks you will never open, or fiction that you would never read again in your life, is that bringing you joy?

No. And, to get emotional here for a moment, because I truly believe books are our friends…this isn’t bringing them joy either. So last weekend I decided it was time to release them into the wild.

Easier said than done.

Some of you may remember that I had the bright idea to decorate the top of my kitchen cabinets with all of my books when I first moved into my studio in Portland a couple of years ago. I called it The Book Decor Workout, because strength and agility are a requirement when you’re using a ladder to organize your books.

This time was all about reverse engineering and not as difficult. But my hamstrings and upper body were put to work.

I followed the KonMari method by laying out all of my books on the floor, then holding each one to decide if it “sparked joy.” If you’re rolling your eyes right now, I have to say that there is something to this—especially when you’re a book lover parting with your sweet friends.

There are decisions that need to be made and I think it’s important to take your time when you’re taking on a decluttering project that involves emotional ties. You want to feel good about your choices. If you’re rushing through this project, you’ll either hang onto things you don’t really want or you’ll go too crazy and get rid of something you shouldn’t have.

Because we’re not talking about putting all of your books by the dumpster. (I just puked in my mouth a little.) We are talking about selecting the ones that still have meaning to you, then finding new homes for the rest.

In the image up there I have my two piles. The big pile on the left did not spark joy anymore, while the pile on the right did. Everyone is going to be different, but these are the books I decided to keep in my life.

CLASSICS YOU WANT TO KEEP

I had quite a few classics, some that dated back to my high school years. Yep, high school (aka a million years ago).

When I held these books, I remembered that well…I really didn’t like them that much. They were a reading assignment or one of those books you just had to read because it was a classic. Sometimes we hang onto books of this nature, because we feel smarter having them in our collection.

Who gives a shit? If Mark Twain isn’t your thing, let it go.

TOOLS YOU WILL ALWAYS TURN TO

Whether you’re a writer or you have another passion, there are some really awesome books that you will discover one day and they will become your trusted companions.

When you hold these books in your hand, you don’t get all jazzed up over the story inside—you will probably feel steadier. A book like the Emotion Thesaurus has been my confidante during the editing stages of several of my books, and that made me happy. It was a tool that helped me write a better novel.

I also ended up hanging onto all of my old Yoga books from my teacher training. They are friends I will always turn to when I need them.

IMAGES THAT ENERGIZE YOU

I wasn’t sure what was going to happen when I got to my coffee table books, which are mainly travel related but I do have one beastly one, American Fashion. I barely had to hold these, because as soon as my eyes landed on the covers, I got energized.

In reality, I will probably never go to all the places in the world I want to see. Books like these allow me to escape without the cost of leaving my house.

WORDS OF LOVE

I’ll admit I haven’t picked up my poetry books in years, but I reconnected with them the day I brought them down to hold them in my hands. And one of them had a beautiful inscription from my dad. There was no way I was going to part with this one.

So, this bunch was more about the words inside of them for me. All of the poems were too lovely for me to let go.

CHILDHOOD FAVORITES THAT SHAPED YOU

These are the books you first read as a child, but you read them again and again throughout your life. When I held these books, I remembered the feeling of the first time I read it. It was a little bizarre.

The wonderment I felt when I read these stories absolutely shaped me into becoming a writer. If an author had the ability to connect with me in such a way, to steer my imagination, I knew I wanted to try to do that too someday.

All together I decided to keep 60 books. I sold 19 (mainly old college textbooks) and I am donating 124 books to our wonderful Oregon libraries.

I have not felt any regrets. On the contrary, I have felt much happier—lighter even. That yummy feeling has been oozing into other aspects of my life.

Since early adulthood, I have dutifully moved my books across multiple states and made room for them in my home. Years later my books were covered in dust and cat hair, and because some of them were above the stove, they were speckled with kitchen grease.

Until last weekend, I hadn’t opened the majority of them and they were stiff as they moved in that unfamiliar way as lost pictures, receipts, and college papers spilled onto the floor. Many of my books were no longer loved. Now that I’m letting them go, they will find love again.

Have you decluttered your books? Or, do you find it too hard to part with your friends?

P.S. This was a helpful post I used to make the change.

Step Away From Your Screen and Rest Your Eyes

The phrase “screen time” has become a popular addition to our vocabulary over the past year or so. I mentioned it in my New Year’s post about positive intentions, and how I have made many changes to avoid living too much of my life behind a screen.

Quite a few of you had the same goal. I was chatting with a good friend of mine recently, who is a decade younger than me, and she too mentioned she wanted to step away from the screen this year.

It’s tough. And it’s especially tough when you’re a writer.

While it’s wonderful to mix it up and put pen to paper, feel that organic yumminess of scribbling away without staring at a monitor, we can’t escape the fact that computers make our writing efficient as hell.

In today’s world, it’s next to impossible to escape screens entirely. Most of us—yours truly included—have jobs where we peck away at a keyboard for 8-10 hours a day, eyes dutifully trained on a bright screen.

Now we have smartphones. I won’t knock them, because they have given us the opportunity to have technology at our beck and call. But naturally there are downsides to that…even more screen time.

And, if you watch TV or play video games when you’re relaxing. Guess what? More screen time.

Writers who are working on novels and/or blogging and/or keeping up with social media, are even more susceptible to screen life. The majority of us have full-time jobs, and our nights and weekends are spent behind a screen, because this is the tool we are using to move forward with our dreams.

The reality of screen time floors me often. I’ll never forget telling my parents over and over again—as a child, as a teen, and even my early years in college—I don’t want a “computer job.” They were both successful in the aerospace industry, but I only saw what they did as one of those computer jobs I wanted to avoid.

My parents both love to tease me about that, because look at me now—I have a computer job. Actually, I have a few.

This morning I performed my usual Saturday dance…what to do, what to do. I’m usually still wound up from the workweek, feeling behind on anything related to my personal writing that I have abandoned throughout the hectic week—my second draft and my blog, keeping up with my fellow writers’ blogs and social media updates.

Make the choice to step away from your screen. When you do, here are two of my favorite eye resting tips. You can do one without ever leaving your desk.

GET YOUR ASS OUTSIDE

Living in Portland, I know that I am lucky to have beautiful nature nearby to entice me away from my screen. The weather, despite the incessant gloom and rain, is pretty easy to deal with year-round.

Hiking is my weapon of choice for combating too much screen time. But even if you don’t have trails, you can go for a run or walk in your neighborhood or park. Though I live in the city, I find even a run in the urban chaos is enough to clear my head and rest my eyes, versus spending hours working on my computer.

If you can, find some nature to stare at for a while. Greenery and water are especially soothing for your eyes. I often notice my whole body breathe a sigh of relief the moment my eyes meet nature.

PALM YOUR EYES

Yeah, so you might have been wondering about the weird ass picture of me with my hands over my eyes up there. I’m doing something legit, promise. It’s an amazing Yoga move, called eye palming.

Didn’t know there was Yoga for your eyes? Dude, I didn’t either.

The first time I tried eye palming was in a Yin class, and I was so stunned by the immediate results. I showed this to my coworkers at our morning huddle and asked them all to join me. They already know I’m batshit crazy, so they played along.

What’s great about eye palming is you can do it anywhere, anytime. When you’re at work or you’re jamming on your novel and you can’t get away, simply rub your hands together and place your palms over your eyes for a bit.

If you still feel like your eyes need more resting time—or you just feel really damn good and you have another minute—repeat.

I’d love to know…what tips do you guys have for limiting screen time?

What a Gardener Taught Me About Letting Go

I’ve lived in condos and apartments all my life, so I’ve never had my own garden. But the properties I lived at required upkeep, and on Fridays, the strident music of machines and the pungent smell of freshly cut grass would invade my open windows.

I have great respect for those who can care for the earth in such a way that it responds. I was thinking about this the other day when I was walking down the happening street in my neighborhood. Two women were pulling weeds out of the sweet urban garden in front of a Yoga studio, expertly yanking this and that to cultivate life.

There were two stories I was obsessed with growing up, and they both involved gardens.

As a little girl, I used to save my allowance and lunch money (yes, by going hungry) so I could go to the mall. I usually made a beeline for the bookstore, and one day, a gorgeous hardcover of The Secret Garden was perched on top of a shelf.

I happily spent all of my money on it. And I read it over and over again, never tiring of the magical story.

Then, there was the movie Edward Scissorhands. My grandmother was actually an Avon lady, so it was entertaining to see the way they weaved that comedic occupation into the storyline.

However, I couldn’t understand why more people didn’t create art the way Edward Scissorhands did with the shrubs and trees. I still don’t. Imagine how incredible it would be to walk down a street with green unicorns, dinosaurs, giraffes, swans, and children inhabiting every yard.

I guess it all comes down to losing our sense of awe as we get older. Whimsical things are pushed aside, and the acceptable “adult” things take precedence. Because the guy with the shrub safari in his front yard would be pretty ballsy, am I right?

I’m not over-the-hill in my thirties, I understand this. What’s tricky about your thirties is that you’re an adult now. When you’re in your twenties, you don’t know what the hell’s going on, but you play along and pretend you’re figuring things out even when you’re lost as shit.

In your thirties, hopefully you somewhat have your shit together—in a place that makes you sing, on a career path that challenges you, surrounded by genuine people you want to continue investing your time in.

But, what about the awe? Do you still have it? Or, did you lose it along the way?

Often I feel like I’m struggling to hold onto it, to continue marveling at life when the days keep flying by, faster and faster. I try to slow it down, I try to stop and notice. Somehow it’s alarmingly easy to go with it—and suddenly you realize a year has passed. A year.

So, one Friday this summer me and Mr. H took a sanity day to hang out around the house and just be. I was determined to do a 90-minute Yoga class, something I rarely have time for as I’m squeezing in 30-60 minute classes throughout my hectic week.

I had just started my practice, and I was centering myself. Then, wouldn’t you know it?

The gardening equipment struck up in our courtyard, a symphony of shrill that—despite my serene start—pissed me right off.

It was Friday. I’m never home on Fridays. And just like every other apartment I’ve lived in, Fridays are gardening day.

I live in the city, so getting bent out of shape over any noise when meditating or practicing Yoga is silly, I know. It’s a control thing. I have this time that I want things to be a certain way, quiet and peaceful, because I’m trying to de-stress, dammit!

But that Friday, it was gardening day.

I had two choices. I could give up my Yoga practice, try again when the coveted quiet, peaceful setting was more attainable. Or, I could get over it, and continue with the racket outside my window.

I decided on choice #2. I thought it was perfect actually, because it complemented the past month of craziness I had experienced in my life, especially at work—the struggle to remain calm in the chaos.

So, I worked with it. Every time my irritation rose, I breathed deeper. Every time I wanted to give up, I kept moving.

Because at the end of the day, there is very little we can control. Rather than getting upset, we can find the correlation between the emotional instigator and a tough situation in our lives.

I’m not saying it’s easy, because it’s not. Once you begin to recognize this, believe it or not, life gets easier.

Anyway about halfway through my practice, I was in one of the Yoga poses I truly struggle with…Utthan Pristhasana (Lizard Pose).

I know what you’re thinking.

I’m a Yogi, I’m not supposed to hate. Well I kinda hate this mofo pose, because it’s one of the most evil hip openers out there. The heat rises within me and I want to run away from my mat, never to return.

Lizard Pose took a strange turn this time. When I looked up, cursing under my breath with a cat on my back, there was the gardener—standing in front of my window with his leaf blower.

Do you know what the guy did? He smiled at me and waved.

I did the same, somewhat awkwardly as you can imagine.

Then, he went on his way.

I laughed. I laughed at myself, at my ridiculous attitude. The carefree gardener was like, “Hey, this is kinda weird but kinda awesome.”

And, he was right.

Come Back

This isn’t one of those posts where I, the blogger, apologizes for an unexcused absence. I told you about my summer departure and I told you why I was doing it.

It was excused, planned, deserved.

I was losing my joy for writing. And that is something I cannot do. Not because I’m a so-called “writer” but because I’m not the same without it.

This was the longest break I’ve ever taken from my blog. It was hard.

I missed it. I missed all of you.

But the things I learned this summer were too good to pass up. There isn’t enough time in this blog post to share them all now, and to tell you the truth, I’m not sure if I can explain what happened to change me.

I will say this. I came back to myself.

The separation gave me the room I needed to consider it all. And, I do mean “all of it.”

For this summer, I think I finally grasped life—its vast, violet landscapes that stretch forever. There’s absolutely no way to see it all, smell it all, touch it all. It’s impossible to experience all that beauty in one lifetime.

I’m a Life Enthusiast. Not because I’m one of those chipper individuals, dishing out too many compliments for the hell of it or going with the flow when they should react.

I’m sparing with my compliments, but I love to give them—to make people feel good when it’s right. I can’t brush things off or go with the flow…it’s not my style. I care too much about what’s happening.

I want to take it all in, all the time.

I often feel like that little girl still, the one hell-bent on learning to fly. I loved heights and I used to climb everything. I often jumped from places I shouldn’t have, trying to transform my scrawny arms into wings.

I wasn’t trying to look cool, I was trying to cover more ground. I wanted to see everything and I knew that flying was the quickest way to do it.

One day, when I was seven or eight, I fell out of a tree. I landed on my back and I screamed so loud that my dad sprinted out of our crappy condo, dropping the wooden spoon he had been stirring the spaghetti sauce with on the kitchen floor. He scooped me up into his arms and everything was okay.

That was when I realized I couldn’t fly, and I was devastated. I had been practicing inside my mind, imagining that if I concentrated enough, if I kept trying, I could do it.

My husband scoops me into his arms now. When I try to fly and I can’t. When I try to do everything at once and I fall out of a tree.

Thank God, he’s there to catch me.

I learned to fly this summer. Not physically, but mentally, I soared.

I came back to myself, and though I didn’t travel anywhere the entire time, I discovered new people, places, and things. Even the people, places, and things I already knew seemed different.

My mom and sister came to visit. And me, “the baby” of the family, saw everything differently as we drank beer and talked, as we found new ways to come back to each other in this part of our lives.

We are older, we have scars and memories, but we’re still family. No matter how little time we have spent together over the years, our laughs and hands are still the same as one another’s. We could be anywhere and do anything and still make it.

It was at once comforting and paralyzing to have this kind of clarity about my family.

I went whitewater rafting for my first time. It was a team-building activity at work and I was scared shitless. I refused at first, swearing up and down that I was going to stay on dry land where it was safe…and smart. That day another coworker couldn’t make it, and I decided to face my fears.

Rafting on the Salmon River is no joke—you won’t see a bunch of wasted people floating along with straw hats and cut-off shorts. You have to have a guide and you have to be sober. The water is also 45 degrees, so you need to wear a wetsuit. (For anyone who wants to see wipeouts on the final waterfall we went over, there’s a carnage montage video you can watch.)

I saw the great Northwestern beauty of Washington from the water, gliding along the rapids, working with a small crew to do everything in our power to stay in that little yellow raft, far away from the sharp rocks and raging river. I found a way to come back to my adventurous self that occasionally said “hell, yes” to crazy things.

I took a chance on a beautiful experience that ended up changing me for the better. To think, I almost dismissed it.

What else? Oh, man. So many things.

I guess I should tell you all that I finished the first draft of my book. Writing novels is nothing new, but I came so damn close to never writing one again. Summoning the strength to move forward with another one was a big deal for me.

I found a way to come back to my writing, without expectations or judgment. And I explored something new, a dystopian/fantasy genre, a HUGE change from the historical fiction I typically do.

It flowed. It flowed like the raging river I was just talking about.

I was so unsure and I almost didn’t do it, then I got in the little yellow raft and I paddled until my arms felt like they would never be the same. I paddled because it was the only way to move forward, to keep going when everything seemed against me.

The featured image I chose for this blog post is a bit racy and strange, I suppose, since I’m practicing Yin Yoga in my skivvies with a cat on my back.

I wanted to use it though. This is me when I come back to myself.

I bow down in gratitude, pressing my face against the sturdy earth, because I need it to ground me. I don’t look fancy, and just like in life, comedy swiftly follows even the most serious moments (in my case, that’s usually being mounted by a panda cat).

My cat knows. She climbs on top of my back and sits there, purring. She feels my agreement with peace and she likes it.

I hope you weren’t expecting too much from me—some great revelation or wisdom. In fact, I’m more confused than ever.

All I can tell you is that I used to want to fly and now I need the ground. So if you find you’re in a constant state of flight, unsure and unstable, do whatever it takes to come back to yourself. Because that feeling of being grounded is rare and difficult to grasp, but it’s truly the best place to be.

Summer Blogging Break…Gone Chillin’

There are moments in life that you never want to lose. Often these moments come on us unexpectedly, and though they are small, they are exquisitely significant.

But no matter how hard you try to hang onto that moment, it fades.

Just like the sun slowly disappearing behind the sea until darkness rules, with no trace of light except for the haunting glow of the moon. It fades.

The picture you see up there was a special moment for me. It was taken on the final night of our California road trip, in a small town on the northern coast called Trinidad.

We had stayed three nights in Los Angeles, then three nights in San Francisco. We’d never heard of Trinidad before, but it was a halfway point on the coast between the Bay Area and Portland.

It was the perfect place to reset before coming home.

Trinidad is nestled inside an unfairly beautiful landscape—surrounded by the Redwood National Forest and right on the top of the California coastline.

A sleepy town, Trinidad had shockingly good food.

And, the best part? The hippies running the place. We ate brunch at a restaurant where they didn’t have to-go coffees. You could either buy a mason jar or bring a mug from somewhere…for real.

We were only in Trinidad for one night. Though it was cloudy, we couldn’t resist watching the sunset at the beach. It was one of those moments, the kind I didn’t want to lose.

I had just spent nine days without my laptop and I felt so free. It’s amazing how difficult it is for us to allow ourselves to disconnect anymore. When I was packing, I remember putting my laptop in my bag and taking it back out many times.

As I looked over the Pacific Ocean in this secluded spot, my eyes filled with tears. I didn’t know how I was going to be able to manage all of the things I was doing before I left. I was completely overwhelmed.

That heavy feeling stayed with me when I came home.

It took much longer than usual for me to write my blog posts, because frankly, I didn’t want to look at my laptop. I wanted to be outside, letting my mind run free.

I eased back into work pretty painlessly, then I made a ridiculous choice to run a $0.99 book sale for Nola Fran Evie. I geared up for the promotion and so many of you lovelies shared the news like crazy.

But, the book sale totally bombed. I’m not being dramatic…it bombed.

After the first day of the sale, I came home from work and called my mom. Though I tried to act like it was a casual call, she picked up my sadness with her extraordinary mom powers.

And, then I lost my shit. Soaked my phone with my tears.

In such a calm voice, Mom said: “It sounds like somebody can use a break. Why don’t you take the summer off from blogging?”

I won’t lie to you guys. I was horrified by the suggestion. Three whole months?

Those of you who have been with me have known me to take my annual blogging and social media hiatus. I always do it when I start to consider sporting a straitjacket to restrain myself.

Last year I chopped my hair right off…

So, here I was again. A little earlier than my planned hiatus at the end of summer. I knew Mom was right, because as infuriating as it is, mom’s know shit.

Going dark for three months was a bit extreme, so I decided on a happy medium.

For the entire summer, I will not be blogging.

I need to step away from this to enjoy nature and work on my new novel. Because yes, even with my breakdown and my crappy sale, I’m still going to keep writing my book.

And, I need to get back to that moment in Trinidad, watching the sun meet the sea.

However, I will still be on social and I will still read and comment on your blogs.

Also, The Life Enthusiast Chronicles will power through the summer. I’m overjoyed to spotlight some incredible guests, who I promise will inspire you like mad.

So, if you think you’re gonna miss me, here are your options if you aren’t doing these yet…

Check out one of my three books.

Hang out with me on Twitter and/or Facebook.

Into business shit? You can read my posts at my work blog.

Visiting Portland this summer? Hit me up. I’ll teach you how to drink beer.

Hope you all have the most beautiful summers imaginable. Soak in the sunshine moments and be free.