Navel Gazing

I’ve become aware in recent weeks that I have been doing an excessive amount of navel gazing the last couple of years—really it began at the onset of the pandemic.  It could even be called navel staring.  For me, this over-contemplative deep dive also coincided with the onset of retirement.

During the pandemic other people not in a high risk group or those delivering ‘essential services’ carried on as ‘usual’ during 2020 before vaccinations became available. As an older couple at higher risk, we hunkered down at home.  I ventured out during ‘senior hours’ for groceries at Publix or COSTCO.  If I went to Home Depot, I was there when they opened.  

Now we know that during these months the majority of the population was dealing with major anxiety often accompanied by depression.  I was dealing with both but not admitting it—the stance taken by so many worldwide. Those of us quarantined at home had lots of time to think.  To be contemplative and mediate is a good thing spirituality but what I observe in retrospect is, it has a down side.  Maybe I should have paid more attention to the scripture, “everything in moderation”—oh well.  

As the pandemic hit, I closed my physical office and continued only doing a few counseling sessions via FaceTime or Zoom.  When it warmed up and we realized we weren’t going to die leaving the house I met a few clients at the mall food court during early mall walker hours or at a local park picnic table where we could keep a safe distance. I tried too to take my own advice to stay in touch with friends and family—local and out of town/state.  

But with all the extra time I did sink into the ‘disease of introspection’. I waltzed around in the shadows of my mind where my demons hang out. I questioned whether anyone really ever had been helped during my career?  In my ‘right mind’ I know clearly the answer is ‘yes’ but darkness distorts the truth (you can take that to the bank).  Then as we all do, I have my ‘thorn in the flesh’ as Paul of the Bible did.  We never learned what his was.  Many have speculated but who knows.  We know his persisted and never went away.  Mine hasn’t either.  It’s the nature of thorns it seems. And, the more you think about them, the bigger they get. Adding to dealing with thorns, there are those out there who love to judge the ‘thorn’ itself or declare that we are just of a weak constitution and should have overcome it. Good luck with that when your thorn is a chronic disease or handicap.  Other aspects of self such as skin color, our ethnicity or sexuality can feel like thorns at times—yet are innately ‘unfixable’.  

Overthinking all that fed fears of judgment on many counts—echoes of childhood.  The politics and social media climate of the day only served to fan the flames inside my head. I can understand why some want to ‘circle the wagons’ to protect themselves (maybe you need to be old enough to remember Wagon Train with Ward Bond to get that analogy).  My initial impulse was to ‘circle’ but decades as a social worker said no.  

As I’ve aged I am less concerned about what others think, particularly those who stand at a distance and preach their views.  I have close friends/confidants that are my weekly consultants in depth.  They know me from the inside out.  

Most of the judgment out there is from a position of ignorance, arrogance and efforts to control and intimidate.  We do live in a culture where people are getting shot and murdered for what they think or just who they are—again for the color of their skin, their ethnic group or sexuality.  So it’s not unrealistic to have some concern over your well being should you fall in such a group.  

Then this conjures up one’s spirituality and belief in the watch care of God.  We’ve been taught to pray for deliverance from evil—but that is not necessarily protection from it.  Kushner said it years ago, bad things do happen to good people.  Then some would just comment about being caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, “Well, it was just their time!” BS in my book!—too providential for me.  

So my navel staring today says there is a balance in here somewhere.  Socrates said, “an unexamined life is not worth living”—agreed.  But then my examinations approached the paralysis of analysis. 

Before you send get well wishes, I am doing better.  Having a semblance of more ‘normal’ life post COVID helps.  But normal means difficult. The meanness and judgments of others, near and far is just reality—and out there in heavy doses these days.  My wagons are not circled but I’m learning that keeping my cards closer to my chest is wiser.  

Trust has taken a beating the last couple of decades, often rightfully so.  Trusting management, corporations, government, law enforcement and even the church is at an all time low.  We face cheaters almost daily.  My credit card has been compromised twice in the last month. When we were recently trying to sell a car we got a crash course in how many will try to screw you over. My email box is full of phishing and scams daily.  We are all covered up with multiple passwords to ‘protect’ ourselves.  

So I’m trying to find some spot to land in middle earth—middle ground.  I limit most of my network viewing and seldom watch BREAKING network news. Most advertising is predicated on feeding my fears.  With commercials, their product of course claims to alleviate those fears and claim I will be giddily happy like the wildly partying people they show in their commercials smiling ear to ear.   

As is said, I’ve been around the block more than once—I did not fall from turnip truck miles back there. I am working toward a balance yet the very word implies forces are coming against me all the time. 

My melancholy head is in a better place but dealing with the realities we’re all facing and not just going to magical thinking can be challenging.  I’m regularly lowering my expectations—whether that be regarding my ‘thorn’ or the nature of the world as it is.   

I am deeply thankful for my mates—my confidants, my ‘therapists’ where I can be candidly transparent. They’ve already heard most of this.  They are a place where I can lay my cards on the table. They often do theirs as well. 

They keep me sane.

If it ever was about my navel, it’s changed very little—just several more pounds surrounding it.