Reclaiming: Asking Questions Only We Can Answer

What have you lost?

Please linger a little longer and give yourself time to answer this question.

This is a question that only you can answer:

"what have you lost you would like to reclaim?"

Close your eyes and get quiet enough to hear.

It may come to your mind immediately.

Or perhaps your mind suddenly goes quiet. Your mind may feel paralyzed by the question and how it may seem broad, too "deep," or frustrating because there may not be only one correct answer to make things fall into place.

That being said, the answer may come quickly. You may be very clear about what is missing today. You would give almost anything to regain what you had stolen, lost, hidden, misplaced, or forgotten. Listen. The answer may come quickly or much more slowly; regardless, listen.

As a psychiatric-mental health nurse practitioner, researcher, and mentor, I have witnessed countless examples of people grasping for answers from others. They repeatedly ask questions when the clarity they need and the source of that knowledge have been within themselves. In this case, one of my favorite things to do is to turn the question on them, asking simple questions that bring clarity:

• "What do you think you need?"

• "What do you think is missing?"

I encourage them to listen to themselves, I ask them to acknowledge what they know and consider how they feel and what they hope for the future, and this is often where breakthroughs come. It is an honor to hold up a figurative mirror to help them see for themselves what they already possess. To help them know that they are what they needed all along. Seeing that we are who we have been waiting for all along is a gift.

This process of self-examination and reflection is one way we can reclaim the power within us, the power only we have over our choices, identity, and joy. This is the power we can feel like we have lost. And how do we lose it? We can so easily walk around with expectations others have placed on us. These can become expectations we create for ourselves, which may or may not be accurate. This season of reflection and celebration is a great time to ask questions and examine if there is a belief we need to deconstruct or something we want to reclaim.

For me, it has been life-giving to ask where these expectations come from. For example, in the US, many of us have been taught that the Christmas season should be "merry and bright," translating to happy, shiny, and without strain. But based on my lived experience and professional experience, I know this is not the norm and certainly should not be our expectation. But it is a great time to examine things and consider how we can intentionally challenge false narratives, commonly held beliefs based on incorrect or incomplete information. With this reflection, we reclaim what control and choice we do have.

In the US, there are tightly held cultural narratives and expensive marketing campaigns that influence us to think:

Our homes should look like a magazine.

We should be surrounded by people who love us, and this time together should be conflict-free

We should keep the same traditions year to year. Even if, on some level, we long for something different, something more.

If we have encountered the loss of a loved one or a failed dream, it is time to "have more faith," "just be grateful," and "pull ourselves up by the bootstraps and move on."

To which I say, absolutely not. This is absurd. And we hopefully wouldn't say this to someone else we care about.

We recognize how dangerous these expectations are when we see them clearly stated. But yet, subtly and not so subtly, we can subscribe to this thinking and, ultimately, beliefs. Without asking the hard questions, we can follow this old familiar playbook that does not serve the deeper parts of us. Parts of us long to hear ourselves and say out loud for ourselves and others to know what we need.

Maybe you are thinking, this sounds selfish. By asking these questions, what if we only do what matters to us? But this is the only way we can know ourselves and what we need and, in turn, know others and have sound relationships. By asking ourselves what we need to reclaim today, we can communicate that to ourselves and those we love, enabling a better future.

I have chosen to reclaim some quiet and privacy in this busy season. I enjoy sharing my life and work through social media platforms, but I have consciously decided to pause these updates for the last six weeks. My research has been exhilarating but seemingly endless, and on many days, I have felt battered by deadlines. So when I did have time for rest, and other special events like weddings, deep talks with friends, time with the kids in my life that bring me so much joy, conferences attended, and projects completed, they felt sacred, and like I didn't want to share them with others just yet. I'm sure I will, but not yet. This is one way I reclaimed my time and bandwidth and challenged the myth that I could "do everything."

When we reclaim our power in these different ways, we can experience increased confidence and resilience. This self-discovery can feel daunting, like we are starting all over, but that is untrue. It is NEVER easy. It is not selfish; it is self-compassionate.

When you ask yourself these questions only you can answer, I am confident your answers will be more impactful than any words I can share here.

What will you reclaim for yourself today?

Please ask yourself what this needs to be for today and then ask again tomorrow. Consider what it shows you, particularly when that dread comes, and I suspect it will. In what way has joy been taken in the past, and how can you reclaim it? And when the joy is present, how can it be preserved?

Here we are at the end of 2023. Thank you for encouraging me along this blogging journey since my first post in 2022. This space has challenged me to be honest and consider "my why" in new ways. I hope, in some small way, it has encouraged you to do the same.

I look forward to growing more with you in 2024.

A quiet moment at home. I had just hung the fresh garland and the tree is still bare. I love these earliest moments of Christmas.