Underneath my yellow skin

Category Archives: Wellness

Mindfulnot, not mindfulness (part three)

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Yeah, I’m back for part three of my musing on mindfulness. Here’s part two in which I talked about, well, I’m not really sure what. I think I had more side notes tahn I did actual post. That’s just the way I roll, though. I make no apologies for it. I will footnote you all. day. long. I have footnoted footnotes before, and I will do it again.

That’s a word I love, by the way. Footnote. Side note, too.

Back to mindfulness. When I started researching the negative sides of mediattion, I expected to find nothing. I thought it was just me because people seemed to be universally positive about it. “It calms my mind!” “It makes me see the world in such a different way!” “It eases my anxiety!” “It connects me with the world!”

I know that there are proselytizers for anything and everything. I know that. I have lived that. I am careful not to do that myself because I can tip into that way too easily. And, I’ll be honest. The more praise something gets, the more suspicious I am of it. Not because I think it’s going to be trash, but because I know it won’t live up to the hype.

There is only one movie that I ever ended up really liking after being skeptical about it before going to see it and that was The Royal Tenenbaums. I don’t like many of the actors in it, and I did not have hope. Much to my surprise, I really liked it. Other than that, though, I am pretty accurate as to what I’m going to (not) like.

I really wish I had known I was neuroatypical earlier in my life. It would have made things so much easier. Things fell into place once a friend gently suggested that I take online autism test. The irony is that I knew my brother was autistic several decades ago beacuse he exhibited classic autistic traits–no eye contact, did not like being touched, very into techie things (there’s a picture of him gumming an alarm clock when he was a baby, and my mom told me he took it apart around the same time), had to do things his way, and basically stimmed (before it was a known thing).

A few months before my medical crisis, I was talking to my brother, and I casually said something like, “Because of you being on the spectrum–” He stopped me and asked me what I meant by that. I scrambled and backed up, but in the end, I told him what I meant. We’re pretty open with each other, and I did not want to lie to him.

A few weeks later, he called me to tell me that he had looked up autism and it really helped him. i felt bad that I hadn’t told him before beacuse I thought it was obvious and because he knew his older son had it–and his son was a lot like him.

It’s funny to me that he had no idea that he was autistic and needed me to tell him whereas I also had no idea that I might be and needed a friend to suggest I check it out. I thought I might have ADHD, but I never in a million years dreamed I might be autistic as well. Why? Well, mostly beccause of how autism is portrayed in society. What is emphasized when autism is mentioned? Male, stimming, can’t look you in the eye, can’t empathize with other people, low-to-no emotions.


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More on being mindful and meditation

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I want to talk more about mindfulness, meditation, and Taiji. I started a post aabout it yesterday, but as is my wont, I meandered all over the place. And probably fell asleep while writing it. My sleep is just terrible lately, for reasons that aren’t part of this post. So, yeah. Mindfulness? Miss me with that noise.

Look.

Look!

I’m not against mindfulness. In general, I’m pro-doing what makes you feel better as long as it’s not harmful to you in the long run or to other people. And, by not harmful to others, I mean truly harmful. Not, “you hurt me by setting entirely reasonable boundaries” harmful, but actually harmful.

I’m a big believer in acknowledging that most of us are just getting by as best we can. Life is hard, yo. And that’s for almost everyone.

Side note: I had a deep and abiding hatred for Christianity for most of my twenties. I had the  misfortune of being raised in a restrictive, sexist, conservative, Evangelical Christian church. I reacted very poorly to God with a capital G after that.

It took me ten years to get over my hatred. Then, I spent my late-thirties being studiously neutral to Christianity (while secretly judging it). It’s only in my forties and fifties that I can truly say that I’m fine with Christianity*.

Side note to the side note: It’s like Christmas and my birthday. I hated both when I was younger.Really hated them both. Then I reached a point when I said I didn’t hate them any longer, but still felt negatively about them. It took a long time (and a lot of Taiji) before I actually felt neutral about them. Do I feel positively about them? No. But, I’ll take it as a win that I no longer hate both.

Also, I have a new birthday. It’s the day I died and came back to life. It means much more to me than my actual birthday because, well, it just does.

Side note to the side note to the side note: When I was in my twenties, my mom would call me every year on my birthday. Foolishly, I would try to brush it off because I absolutely hated my birthday back then. My mother would get teary and go on and on about how important the day had been to her. That and the birth of my brother were the two most important events of her life. She went on about it for so long, I started comforting her.

That’s my role in life, you see. I’ve called myself her emotional support human, and I am used to it now. Back then, though, it really chafed that she dumped all this on me ON MY BIRTHDAY. It had to be about her, even on a day that was supposedly supposed to be about me. One reason I hated my birthday, by the way.

Wow. I really went in circles in this post, didn’t I?


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Mindfulness? More like mindlessness (part two)

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Today’s word is mindfulness. Words I don’t like, I mean. That’s what I’m focused on these past few days. I can hear you wondering aloud what issue I could possible have with mindfulness. Being aware of one’s inner sensations, feelings, etc., as well as one’s outer environment can’t be a bad thing, right?

Of course that’s a leading question. I would not ask it if I did not have an answer that was counter to what common belief is. I will say that I get the point of mindfulness and  I am not saying it’s completely bad. What I will say is that it’s not universally good, either.

Side note: Twenty years ago, it was not a thing. Now, it’s a big thing. Being mindful, I mean. I know that things change over time, but it’s bemusing to me in this case.

Roughly seventeen years ago, my Taiji teacher started to incorporate meditation into her classes. I struggled with it from the start, and at a certain point, I started having flashbacks. I told her I could not do it any longer. She put a pair of practice deer horn knives in my hands and showed me how to walk the circle. I fell in love with the  deer horn knives, which I have talked about several of times. This post is not about that, though.

Once mindfulness became a societal thing and somewhat of a godlike idol for many people, I became intrigued by the phenomenon–and lowkey irked. Not just because I’m a contrarian who hates it when something becomes a snake oil answer for everything that ails you, but also because, well, it makes me wonder what I’m missing.

Here’s the thing. Mindfulness is like ASMR to me. If I had no reaction to it, then I would just let it go. I hate ASMR. It sends me into an instant rage (well, certain types of ASMR. Funnily enough, I read a story from someone who in some professional capacity studied ASMR? Shilled the positive benefits of it? Something like that. He said with a straight face that ASMR could not fail anyone; it can only BE failed by a person.

He did not say that exactly, of course. But that’s what he meant. He said that no one actually had a negative reaction to ASMR because ASMR was a positive reaction. Gotta love that circular meaning! I get what he was trying to say, but to me, that’s not a legit answer. It’s pretty amusing that he wants to make it so that ASMR is negative reaction-proof. He went on to say that if the people who reacted negatively could actually feel the ASMR properly, they would react positively to it.


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A small sliver of hope

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Throughout this horror shitshow, I have had been almost overwhelmed by anger, depression, futility, fear, and a whole host of other negative feelings.

Once again, before I get into it, I have to give thanks that people are videotaping what is happening on the daily because it’s so much easier to refute the lies coming out of this federal administration on a regular basis.

Because of this, Gregory Bovino, is being pulled out of Minnesota. Rumors are that he’s being demoted or ‘allowed’ to retired (read, forced to retire). If this happens, I will be dancing in the streets because rightly or wrongly (probbaly wrongly), he has become the focus of my ire. Why? Because he’s here. He’s actively hurting my state. Like, physically. Because he dresses like he’s part of SEAL or some elite military squad like that.

He so desperately wants to be John Wayne, it’s pathetic. Also, I did not realize/remember that border ppatrol and ICE are not actually law enforcement. They want people to think they are, but they are not. Despite what the leaked memo says, they don’t have the legal right to go into the home of a legal citizen without a federal warrant. That’s not going to stop them, but I needed to remember that, for my own sanity.

He lies without hesitation and without remorse. He did it so relentlessly to a judge, she said that she could not take anything he said as truth (paraphrasing). I’ll post a video below of Jana Shortal, a local news anchor (and my local crush) and a colleague talking about this very topic. I have to give reporters credit for trying to hold his feet to the fire, but he just blusters, gets angry, talks over them, or the interview gets cut short.

I hope he steps on a Lego ever three to seven minutes at varying intervasls. I hope he never finds the cool part of his pillow as he tries to sleep. I hope his pants are always just a bit too tight and I hope that he never sleeps well again. Also, if he’s ‘allowed’ to retire, I hope that his every minute in of retirement is empty and painful.

As for Noem, the call for her impeachment grows louder. 140 signatures so far, and it’s only growing. There are also calls to remove Stephen Miller. Let’s throw the whole lot out and try again. Can we have a do-over on the 2024 election?


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Sometimes, to make an omelet, you have to kick some fucking ass

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The surrealness of the world around me continues. On many levels, yes, but, sefishly, it’s what’s happening in MN that is occupying most of my mind. Don’t get me wrong. I’m outraged about Venezuela. I’m livid about Greenland. I’m seething over the tariffs and other economic bullshit that is emanating from this administration. But it’s what happening in Minneapolis that is most pressing in my mind because it’s nearest (literally and figuratively) to me.

Even then, I’m careful about how much news I ingest every day. I used to write for a political blogh, so I would watch/read a large amount of news a day. Iwas on the abortion beat, so most of the news I read was infuriating, sad, or depressing. I had to make sure I wasn’t burning myself out, and I did that for a few years.

Once Obama was out of office, I was no longer writing for the political blog. I also wasn’t watching/reading as much news as before. I had reached my limit, and I did not want to steep myself in that world again.

I kept up with the news, of course. I made sure I knew the big stuff. I cursorily skimmed the news, and then I kept it moving.

It’s too easy to doomscroll for hours. There is so much bad news, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed, helpless, and despaired. In fact, I feel that way much of the time now. I know that’s what this administration wants, but it’s hard not to remain hopeful. There have been sliver of good news, but so few and far between.

Here’s yesterday’s post. I’m not even going to try to tie it in with this post. Why? Because I’m tired, and I just can’t be bothered. There is a connection, at least in my mind, and I’m going to leave it at that.

I’m still exhausted because of the shots (Covid and flu), but it’s not nearly as bad as it was when I got the three shots on one day. It’s on par with what I normally feel after a shot. Slightly worse, but nothing too noticeable.

I’ve been very careful with not overdoing it as I get better. One good thing about Taiji and Bagua  is that it’s not something that you’re going to lose much if you can’t do it for a day or two. Or even a month. Yes, I forgot a few postures in my month off, but I was able to teach it to myself fairly quickly again.

One of the most amazing things about my medical crisis is how I was able to pick up my practice about a week after I got out of the hospital, shaky and tired, yes, but still able to do most of it. Taiji is chill and relaxed. It’s not the same as Bagua, but I did not start practicing that until well after my medical crisis was over.


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The anger is rising

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Here’s the big issue with this current president. It’s not him in and of himself (though that is terrible, indeed), but it’s what he represents; how many people are holding him up, either for personal reasons, ideology, or just the need to unthinkingly follow someone in authority.

His presidency also lays to rest the ‘gentleman’s agreement’ that all previous presidents have silently agreed to. What do I mean by that? I mean that there aren’t many specific laws in place to prevent the president from abusing his power (and, yes, I deliberatley chose ‘his’ because that’s what we’ve had so far). For past presidents, I do believe that most of them wanted what was best for America, even if I deeply disagree with their ideology. They did not do things soleley because they wanted to do them or for personal gain.

I should note that I’m talking mostly about the presidents I have experienced in my lifetime because I can’t know what prior presidents were really like.

Anyway.

I knew this president’s second term was going to be dangerous and terrible beacuse he had nothing to lose. Again, this was with the assumption that he would not wangle a third term someohow. Oh, and here’s yesterday’s post with more musing on this subject.

I want to focus on something else for a hot sec.

I’m so angry right now, I can’ barely stand it. The only way I can really tamp it down is by becoming numb. I feel incandescent with rage, and I want to make the world burn. I want all the assholes to get what’s coming to them rather than mumbling some inane platitudes about how we have to be better than that. Me doing the mumbling, I mean.

I don’t have it in me. To be polite or compassionate or kind, I mean. I just watched a video of a right-wing influencer (ugh, I hate that word) who came to Minnesota to agitate, cause a ruckus, and probably was hoping to stir people up. I had to laugh when I saw that he had a whopping TEN people supporting him. The local news spoke to one of them, and, yep. Young white dude, wouldn’t you know it, from Minnesota, but not the Twin Cities.

The influencer claimed he was stabbed, but there was no official report of that. I did see him in a car getting kicked, and I felt a quiet vicious satisfaction inside me. I will say I know that’s what he wanted to a certain extent, and I don’t believe in giving these assholes what they want. But the incandescently angry, “I’ve had enough” burning ball of hatred in my heart? That part of me was glad.


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Taking the high road when others aren’t

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Life is still rough here in Minnesota. Very rough. So very fucking rough. The Federal DOJ opened an investigation into Gov. Walz and Mayor Frey for exceedingly bogus reasons. I’m not going to name them because my god. It doesrn’t matter at this point. None of this matters at any point. I included the video of the charges below if you want to see them with your own eyes/hear them with your own ears. One tiny bit of good news is that it was ruled by a federal judge that Minnesotans can follow ICE as long as it was from a safe distance away (ICE/feds claimed this was not allowed), but it just doesn’t seem enough.

Nothing is enough, obviously. Jen Psaki, the host of the video I included below (and warning for rough viewing, by the way), made it clear that the investigation is bullshit. She cites the numbers, and, yes, they are horrible for this persident. Some are the lowest they’ve ever been–ever!–, but they’re still at anywhere from 30% to 41%. That’s still way too many people who think everything is just hunky-dory.

This is actually part of the bigger problem–which is my fellow Americans. That’s not what this post is about, though–you know what? I ‘m going to make it about that because I can. And because it fits with the theme (sort of). The theme being taking the high or low road. I wrote at length about this fallacy (taking the high road is always a  good thing, solely on an idealogical level) in a prior post.

Quick primer: For most of my life as a Democrat, I’d watch the Democrats bleat about taking the high road. They gave in over and over again, and it was always frustrating. Why was it only the Dems who were expected to negotiate and meet in the middle? I mentioned in a prior post that I’m at the end of my rope with being compassionate and peaceful.e

Every time the Republicans won a major election, it was spun as them having the will of the people to do what they wanted. When a Democrat won, however, it was spun as the country being fractured, and the Dems had to work extra hard to make sure the Republican Americans did not feel shunned/rebuffed/out in the cold.

Many Dems felt that way, too. Or at least they mouthed the words that sounded like they agreed. Whereas the Republicans blithely ignored any semblance of extending the olive branch. Thirty yaers, I’ve listened to this. It’s always been a case of being on different teams, but there were lines that neither side would cross.

Those lines are completely erased now. As I’ve said, my friends and I have agreed that we’re not exactly surprised by what this president has done, but the surprise is how quickly and violently it’s happened. Also, in my case, it’s how efficiently it’s happening. Which makes me suspect that it’s not him.


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Sideways to meeting my goals, part six

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I am so tired. So very tired. Not just physically, but emotionally and mentally as well. My sleep has gone to complete hell, and I don’t think it’s going to get better any time soon. It’s surreal living in a state that has been targeted by this president. I saw MS Now talking about how 50% of Americans think ICE are making things worse for the country whereas 30% think ICE is making America better. MS Now was talking about it as if it was a great thing. 50%! That’s like a twenty point swing (or something like that). Whereas I look at those numbers  and think, “What the fuck?!? Who the hell are those 30%?”

It’s a rhetorical question, though, because I know where that 30% comes from. By the way, it’s always 30%. The fucking assholes, I mean. It’s always around 30%. There’s a reason for it, but I don’t care. I can’t care any longer.

Here is my post from yesterday. And I’m going to maunder about it more.

In the Discord I’m in, when this president was declared the winner, there was a ‘this fucking guy’ who had to say his piece about how this is because the neglected white dude had been oppressed for so long. Oh, he didn’t put it that way, but that was his meaning. Not an American, by the way, I don’t think. He’s also into crypto coins and other shady bullshit.

And I want him to suffer. I want him to step on Lego every night of his life and never find a comfortable position in which to sleep. I want him to feel a fraction of the pain that my fellow Minnesotans are going through at this moment.

Here’s the thing.

My compassion is completely burned out. I am done with people talking about the high road and being the better person. Because that doesn’t make shit happen. Also, it has no benefit to the oppressed because it puts extra burden on them. Not only do you have to take the shit, you have to smile as it’s happening.

Governor Walz talked about being peaceful even through our anger. Not to give this administration what they want and the excuse to crack down even harder. I understand that, but I need them to understand that that is the same as someone being abused thinks–if I just do this, that, or the other thing, they won’t abuse me. If I just act as good as I possibly can, they won’t hit me any more. It’s my fault. I just gotta be perfect.

There is no way to avoid the abuse. Being peaceful won’t do it. Giving in won’t do it. Nothing will. I’m not saying to act up or choose violence, but I’m saying that focusing on being peaceful is a fool’s errand. Let that part go. Do what needs to be done without making preambles or excuses.


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Sideways to meeting my goals, part four

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In talking about my goals, I used yesterday’s post to talk more about my family. I mentioned how I have come to terms with my parents (sort of) by thinking of them as not my parents (read the post). It’s helped me smooth out a lot of the frustration I have felt towards them, which I  consider a win. Look. It’s better than what our relationship has been in the past, and I know that it’s not going to change. I talked about how neither of my parents have changed much in all the time I’ve known them, so why would they start now?

What does that have to do with my goals? The dysfunction in my family has often made me feel like what I did didn’t matter, especially as an AFAB person. My birth gender was emphasized so heavily, and I was deducted so many points  just for having the misfortune of being born a girl. My parents were both so heavy on gender essentialiism, I hated being a girl by the time I was cognizant that it was a thing.

One of my sharpest memories of my childhood is that by the time I was seven, I was praying every night to a god I didn’t really believe in that he would make me a boy. not because I felt like a boy or because I thought I was a boy (I didn’t on either), but because I had internalized that it was awful to be a girl. Every morning, I woke up deeply disappointedc that I was still a girl. Like, crushingly disappointed.

At some point in my early twenties, I became aware of gender and race. And I became a raging feminist/pro-Asian person. I also became aware that I was attracted to women as well as men (*binary at the time. This was the early nineties before nonbinary, genderqueer, agender, etc.,  became part of the social consciousness), but I put that on a shelf because I did not want to deal with that as well as race and gender.

This all comes into play when I write. When I write, all of that comes out in every word. Sometimes, those on the right will snark about how ‘woke’ those on the left are.

Side note: I never understood how that became a negative, but it’s just a well-worn path for them. Take something that is a positive (being aware of other cultures, personal identities, etc.,) and make it a flaw or something to sneer at. Even the word itself, ‘woke’, uttered an a derogatory epithet is baffling to me. Along with being called ‘PC’. Who wouldn’t want to be aware that other ways of living are out there? (That’s a rhetorical question.)


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Sideways to meeting my goals, part three

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Let’s talk more about the circuitous way my brain works. I talked at length about it yesterday, but I have more to say. By the way, I am garrulous, especially in writing, and I’ve just accepted that about myself. Why use one word when ten will do? And why use ten when fifty works so much better? I have to actively stop myself from going on for longer than I already do, and when I’m tired, all bets are off.

I’ve gotten better, as hard as it is to believe that. But I used to not talk at all when I was a kid because I wsa taught that what I had to say didn’t matter. Nor what I thought or believed, for that matter. I was told over and over again that good girls were not heard at all and were barely seen, either.

When I was little, I was an exuberant, loud, joyful child. I would run around, climb trees, and just in general, be an active child. By the time I wsa seven, I was severely depressed, fat (according to my mother, who made sure to remind me of it in several ways, including putting me on my first diet, and saying I had such a beautiful face; too bad I was so fat). On nearly a daily basis, I was thinking about killing myself and how the world would be better off without me.

See, that was what the emotional abuse did–it told me that I was worthless. Or worse that worthless–I was an overall negative to the world. When I was in my late teens, early twenties, I believed I woke up every day not deserving to live, and I had to earn my way back to zero. Why? Because everyone around me reinforced the idea that my life in and of itself had no value. My parents, the people at the very cult-like Evangelical Taiwanese church my parents belonged to, and my very white teachers in the 1970s and 80s.

There were a few teachers who were incredibly kind to me, but for the most part, I was ignored. I’m not blaming those teachers, mind you. I note it more to say that I never felt welcomed in school, either.

It took me studying Taiji for me to realize that I mattered as a person. Not as an emotional support person. Not as an accessory, a friend, or a listening ear. But as a person in and of myself. Me. Just being me.

It’s difficult for me to hold onto that because my mother keeps making it about her. After my serious medical crisis, she said she was glad I hadn’t died–so she would still have someone to talk to about her problems. She’s said this to me more than once, by the way. She’s also called me her therapist, and her justification is that she knows all the therapists/psychologists/psychiatrists in Taiwan on a professional basis. Which, you see, means that she can’t have a therapist of her own.


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