Reflection
three things I learned in the first half of 2025, and a favorite quote
For the last couple of years I have been trying to pay attention to themes, lessons, and over-arching ideas in my life. The hope is that I can use these to grow, not just for my own self, but as a Christian. Maybe this exercise will help you do a little reflecting too, and we can grow together.
Three things I learned:
It’s okay to stop going to therapy (again).
I’ve had an on-again, off-again relationship with therapy, and that has been good for me. I started going in late 2020, then ended a year later. I took a long break, more than a year, then started again in late 2023. Then in January of this year, I made the decision to stop again.
I never stop because I don’t think it’s worth it or it’s not helping. On the contrary. After a time I start feeling overwhelmed with all the “things” to do and feel like I need some space in which to practice them.
I have notes in my therapy journal from my last visit with E, my therapist. In them, I summarized the practices I would be working on:
Self care in the form of plenty of sleep, exercise, and a focus on good nutrition.
Learning to say no before I get overwhelmed (I dropped my biggest editing client).
Notice when I feel safe by describing all of my senses to myself in that moment (this is a lot harder than it sounds—it’s like noticing when you’re not in pain).
Try new things (looking at you, chicks and roosters).
Notice when I am about to act like a people-pleaser and remind myself I can be okay if someone else is not 100% happy.
I would love to say I have been consistent with these practices, but this is why we call it “practice.” But I can feel that I’m getting better at them, so I’m counting it a win. I am learning I can increase my own felt sense of safety.
Grief has its own ways.
I’ve been honest about the fact that I never actually broke down and fell apart after either of my parents died, and I’ve felt guilty for that. It’s not that I don’t think of them; I do often, mostly daily. Every time I use something that belonged to either of them, I say out loud, “Thanks, Mommy” or “Thanks, Daddy.” Many times I think of something I want to tell them, and wish I could.
But every so often, grief hits me out of the blue. One night I dreamed I broke into their house through the basement and stood there looking at all my dad’s stuff, not understanding why it was still there. I was trying to figure out how to get out without waking the new owner up, so I quietly snuck up the stairs into the house, and when I tried to get out the back door, I bumped into a high chair full of little china figurines, all of which came crashing down. I quickly fumbled with all the locks and got out the door.
My getaway car was a big black SUV, but to get to it, I had to run across the tops of other cars, like in a cop show. I jumped in my SUV and sped off, but was eventually caught by the police. I kept crying and saying I was sorry, that I just wanted to see their house one more time.
If you are grieving, don’t try to put it in a box. Let it be what it’s going to be and please don’t shame yourself for the way you grieve or don’t.
Distance from electronics is helpful.
At the beginning of the year, I decided I was going to severely limit my screen time. Since then, I’ve only looked at Facebook and Instagram a few minutes a day. I spend some time reading on Substack, but other than that, I often put my phone down and forget where it is, then have to go looking for it later. It’s frustrating for people who are trying to call me. I also made a rule to put my phone to bed as soon after dinner as possible.
It has been glorious. I feel like I think more clearly and think about things that matter. It is much easier to be present. I get more accomplished. I am more aware of when I’m picking the phone up for a dopamine hit.
Nose-in-the-phone is a habit you can break, and you will be glad you did. 100% recommend this.
Favorite quote
In the spirit of full disclosure, I just heard this quote Sunday night, so it was technically not from the first half of the year, but this is my newsletter and I make the rules.
The quote was brought home from teen camp by my pastor’s wife, who is surely a kindred spirit. She has a knack for saying the right thing at the right time, and I appreciate her being led by the Lord that way. Here’s what someone at camp said that she brought all the way from Tennessee for me:
Immaturity is holding on to the bad, instead of accepting the good.
I would like to think that at 63 I am way beyond needing to hear this, but it was both convicting and encouraging at the same time. Maybe you need to hear it too.