Your Rainforest Mind

Support for the Excessively Curious, Creative, Smart & Sensitive


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Single, Childfree, And Petless In A Pandemic — Then And Now

(Dear BloggEEs. This is the first of a new addition to my blog. I am going to occasionally add personal essays and journal entries for your reading pleasure. I am a little nervous about this. Please continue to like, comment, and share, as usual. Let me know what you think. Enjoy! And thank you. They will be compiled on my new Musings page.)

Single, Childfree, and Petless in a Pandemic – Part One

(Wearing my emotional support sweater)

March 2020 – The Beginning

            This forced isolation has me rattled. And a little faklempt. Maybe a lot faklempt. 

            I think it is because of all of the unknowns. How long will this last? Is this the beginning of a series of traumatic climate change events? Will I get sick? Will the internet go down and I’ll no longer be able to see my clients online and my income will dry up?  Will I run out of hair gel? Will my computer die so I will have to stop blogging?  Will human beings never become enlightened? Will I fall and break some important bone, not be able to reach the phone, die and not be found for weeks? Will my acupuncturist move to Portland? Will I lose the opportunity to finally find the love of my life because dating sites are forced to shut down and tango dancing is banned forever? 

            Did I mention that I have ruminating tendencies?

            I am single, childfree, and petless. In my 60’s. I have lived pretty contentedly alone for much of my adult life with two breaks for short-ish but significant relationships. I am an introvert through and through. Solitude is my friend. I have always been driven to build a meaningful career path and to create a better world. I am less in need of a traditional family. And so, I have created a fulfilling work life, loving friendships, and a sweet, comfortable nest for myself. 

            But still. I was not prepared for lockdown.

            I am coping by using a combination of approaches. (I am a psychotherapist so I know a lot of them.) I am ramping up my spiritual practice. Reading trusted news sources. Zooming with family members and friends. But, actually, I am mostly using one tactic. 

            Denial. Denial is not something psychotherapists usually recommend to clients but pandemic disorder is not found in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual either. So, I use denial and try not to think about all of those ruminated possibilities. (Denial, as in, not thinking about it. Not denial, as in, touching and breathing on people.)

            But, lately, denial is not working so well.  I am worried about the future. Even though solitude is still my friend, and I have acquired an emotional support animal in the form of a cozy chenille sweater that I wear almost every day, I am wondering if it is time to invite someone, a male partner, to join me in my nest. Virtually, of course, for now.     

            Truth is, back in the day when nuclear war was the threat we all prepared for, I would think, “I want a person who thinks of me first, who finds me first, when the bomb drops.”

            I still want that person. And now would be a great time for you to show up. I want a person who thinks of me first, when the pandemic hits. 

            Oh, wait. The pandemic has hit. 

            Text me. 

            I will be at home.

Single, Childfree, and Petless in a Pandemic – Part Two

March 2021 – A Year Later

            It has been a year. I am no longer so rattled, or faklempt. At least no more than I was during the years before the pandemic. Turns out if you are a psychotherapist during a pandemic, you have job security and human (online) contact.  In fact, if you are a highly sensitive introverted therapist like me, working online is kinda fine. I can still reach my clients through the screen. (My empathy, it turns out, is teleportable.) Some of my clients even prefer staying home in their own cozy chairs with their blankets and tea. It seems that, for some, the safety of their own nest allows them to be more vulnerable than they might be sitting across from me, in real life, face to face, bodies in the room, together. So, when it comes to work, income, and continuing to feel connected to a larger purpose, Covid-19 did not get the best of me.

(still wearing my emotional support sweater)

            And because I had even more time than usual, because I was not going to the gym, socializing at the café, traveling to visit relatives, or tango dancing into the night, my blog was more of a priority and I was more open to expanding my practice into international consulting. In fact, the switch to online conferencing made it possible for me to accept offers to speak I would have otherwise declined. To audiences in the Netherlands and France. To clients in Cyprus and Belgium and beyond. 

            Of course, I would not have survived so well if this had happened in, say, 1985. No Internet. No cell phone. No Instagram. No Skype. No Zoom. No Voxer. No Venmo. I would have been a wreck in a 1985 pandemic. If there had to be a pandemic, well, 2020 was a good year. 

            So, I am grateful. 

            And so far, even my 2020 ruminations have not come to pass. I did not get sick. No one I know died. I did not break any bones and die a slow death until I was found three weeks later. My internet kept working so I could see clients and keep blogging. My acupuncturist did not move to Portland. I did not run out of hair gel. 

            It is kind of a miracle. 

            I do understand that a couple of my ruminations are still alive and well. The ones about climate change and humanity never becoming enlightened. There is still that. When I look beyond my smallish comfortable world, I could easily start rattling or faklempting again. But, instead, I take a breath, and remember my assignment. I am here on planet Earth to help smart, sensitive souls self-actualize and create a better world.

            Oh, and there is one more rumination: Will I lose the opportunity to finally find the love of my life because dating sites are forced to shut down and tango dancing is banned forever? 

            Well. Dating sites are going strong. Tango is just on hold for now. So. The opportunity is not lost. I will be vaccinated next week. The invitation stands. Join me now, love of my life. My hair gel won’t last forever.


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Gifted and Obsessed

photo courtesy of Kyle Glenn, Unsplash

I’m obsessed.

I admit it.

I spend inordinate amounts of time wondering who I really am and what I’m supposed to do with this little life of mine. To make a difference. To have an impact. To create a better world.

It surprises me that everyone isn’t as obsessed as I am. After all, what could be more important, I ask you?

Isn’t everyone an obsessive, introspective, self-analytical, driven, quirky, over-thinker? Shouldn’t they be? Doesn’t everyone love being in therapy? Diving deep into the abyss of their psyches to wrestle with thorny anxieties, repair ancient wounds, and discover their sparkling Light?

You mean some folks really do just want to watch the Super Bowl?

I remember when I first read this in a John Irving novel: “You’ve got to get obsessed and stay obsessed.” I was so relieved. It wasn’t just me. I fell in love with John Irving then and there.

Of course, I hear you. If I’d decided to procreate, I wouldn’t have the time or energy to question and wonder and analyze and imagine like I do. To dive so deeply into my abyss. I made the conscious choice to be childfree. To support my obsessive, introspective, self-analytical, driven, quirky, over-thinking habit. It’s worked out quite well.

I found a career that would enhance these proclivities. I could be a psychotherapist! Get paid for being with other obsessive, introspective, self-analytical, driven, quirky, over-thinkers. ( You know who  you are. )

Holy moly.

And then blogging was invented.

Oh boy.

The perfect vehicle for more obsessing. And, as it turns out, for a little worldwide influence. For a little impact. A bit of better-world making.

So.

I’ll be your John Irving.

I’m here to tell you that being an obsessive, introspective, self-analytical, driven, quirky, over-thinker is exactly who you are meant to be. And even if you decided to procreate, and you are now raising a quirky little over-thinker just like yourself, you can still find your way to make a difference. To have an impact. To create a better world.

Just remember this: You’ve got to get obsessed and stay obsessed. 

_________________________________

To my bloggEEs: Thank you so much for being here and for supporting my habit. Let us know how you’re obsessed or how you plan to get obsessed.

(Note: It could be that raising that quirky little over-thinker of yours is exactly how you’re creating a better world…)

(Another note: Just to be clear, this is not to be confused with the serious and disabling obsessive compulsive disorder. I’m not suggesting that you get OCD. OK?)

There are a couple of events I want to tell you about. I’ll be speaking with the amazing Linda Silverman in Denver, CO on June 2 at her Gifted Women Symposium. (Sorry fellas!) And I’m a presenter at the SENG conference in San Diego in July 20-22. (Tom Clynes will be a keynote speaker.) I’d love to meet many of you so please think about going and introducing yourselves to me.