I'm fine

In a surprising twist out of this coronavirus lockdown situation, my mental health have actually improved during this great time of uncertainty and chaos. While experts are predicting a subsequent mental health crisis following this period of people staying at home all the time, in some surely perverse way I’ve instead gotten better psychologically. It’s probably because I am an introvert at heart, and being at home and unable to go outside is what I would call a typical Saturday. It’s the rest of you who are suffering from the quarantine.

I don’t say any of this out of hubris; rather I carry immense gratitude for how things have turned out. It was a decidedly horrible year last year mentally, and coming out from that at the beginning of this year, I knew it would be a challenge to get back to a decent equilibrium. The annual trip back home to Guangzhou was a much-needed escape and refocus, though soon as I returned to the States, the COVID-19 problem started its ascent towards a truly global pandemic. It would be a quiet two months before the virus reaches our shores, and during that I was slowly building up the psychological pieces.

And then our world got abruptly turned upside down, and our everyday routine was utterly interrupted. I’d initially thought the quarantine would prove disastrous for my mental condition, principly because of the added anxiety, and the fact I cannot do the one meditative thing I love most: driving. Like most people, for the first few weeks I was completely lost and confounded at the new reality, and other than the preoccupancy of work (from home, naturally), my other waking hours were entirely lackadaisical. I must have broken personal records on Youtube video watching during the month of March.

Having enough of that, though, I found new routines to settle into, and sort of accepted this crazy situation for what it is. Each day waking up I knew exactly what I had to accomplish, and those new habits kept me focused and active. Not one to seek advice or talk through stuff with other people, I took time to self meditate and practiced the stoic/zen philosophy of being present in the moment; concentrating on what I can control, and disregarding those that I absolutely cannot.

The improvement wasn’t instant, and the upward incline wasn’t constant, either. What I can say is that as of right now, I am as content and happy as I’ve been in quite some time. Of course, I have to recognize the tremendous privilege to have kept my job during a time when so many million Americans have not. That sadly is not something I can control; I simply take what comes to me and deal with it the best I can.

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Trying to find some peace.

Grace for myself

In my seemingly never-ending quest to optimize my sleep – because proper slumber is foundational for everything else in life – one of the weak points I found that’s preventing me from falling asleep quickly is the tendency to think and agonize over the mistakes made on that particular day. For sure some days are better than others, but when it’s really bad, I can be awake in thought for hours before finding reprieve.

It’s easier said than done, but I have to let the mistakes of the day go. I cannot mentally beat myself up over with whatever I wasn’t satisfied with during the day, not in the least because it’s robbing me of precious sleep time.

The only thing we can do each day is try our best.

As long as I can answer in the affirmative to the question of “did I try my best today?”, then that is good enough. Mistakes are going to happen: no one is perfect, and as we go through our days there will be words we should’ve said or action we should not have done. The perverse beauty of it all is that we can’t go back to change any of it; what’s done is done, and reflecting on it in bed whilst staring at the ceiling is not going to alter any outcomes.

Not to say we shouldn’t review the contents of our day and how we can make improvements, but the time for that is not the moments just after you get into bed. Do it perhaps on the commute home, or in the shower; there ought to be a demarcation line in the evening where you resolve to change whatever needs changing for the future, and will then cease thinking about it.  

Have a bookend to the day: I am thankful for what it was, and shall give grace to myself for the things I’ve done wrongly. After that, the best course of action is to receive enough recovery from a good night’s sleep, and then attack the next day.

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You may not know that may be all I'll need…

Car OCD strikes again

They say stoic philosophy is life-long practice, and nothing reinforces this truth quite like a bad habit coming back from the supposed dead. You climb back onto the old destructive trains of thought, and your mood reverts to a state you’d thought was put away for good. Once the gap opens, the rabbit hole goes forever deep.

Practicing stoics are taught to detach from situations and to view it from a bigger, macro perspective. It allows us to figure out exactly what we can control, and what we absolutely cannot. After that we only put our thoughts on the things we are able to manipulate, and to not put an ounce of worry towards things we can’t hope to control. The point is, don’t let what you can’t change ruin the pleasure and enjoyment of the present.

Something about old habits being hard to die…

This past Friday evening I took the 911 GT3 out for its weekly mechanical exercise, only to find the rear passenger tire was some 4 PSI lower than the other three. I surmised a small puncture, but lacking in any sort of repair tools (and the fact it was dark), I went to a gas station to fill the faulting tire back up to spec. After driving around for two hours, tire pressures remained constant so I thought maybe it aberration was a fluke.

It’d be nice if I’d just left it at that, but once I got home I immediately went investigating on the Internet for any information concerning tire issues on a GT3. Not sure what good that did other than taking up copious amounts of time I had planned otherwise for more productive activities. With the worst case scenario being a slow puncture - probably an errant nail, it’s not exactly worthy of spending hours of research online. I’ve certainly dealt with such trivial items before: you simply get it plugged, or buy a new tire.

But no, my old habit of car OCD kicked in like a drug - something I did not miss when I went 9 months without a car. Even though I had to wait until the next day to confirm that it’s indeed a slow leak, my mind was so preoccupied with the varying scenarios that I had trouble falling asleep. The appropriate stoic reaction would be to understand that agonizing over the situation isn’t going to help - I can do absolutely nothing about it until Saturday, and getting a good night’s sleep is infinitely more productive.

The Next day it was confirmed the tire was slowly leaking air, having squandered 2 PSI overnight. For the day I had Radwood Sonoma to attend, and seeing that it wasn’t a massive puncture, I topped off the leaky tire and went on my way.

Trouble is, my mind was still preoccupied with the matter during the one hour drive to the event. Once again I was running through the scenarios on how to remedy the problem, from simply plugging the tire with rubber strips, to at worst having to fork over serious money for a new pair of rear Michelins at the dealership. The fact the GT3 is not fitted with an emergency jack, and the wheels are equipped with centerlock lug-nuts meant performing the repair carries an additional layer of complexity and cost. All of that piled on to my anguish, so much so that I couldn’t even enjoy the beautiful rainy drive through wind country.

The sensible thing to do would be to detach from the problem, and be content the punctured tire is still operational, therefore allowing me time to methodically diagnose the problem and fix it properly.

Indeed it seems I’ve still got some residuals of the nasty tendency of wanting my cars to be as perfect as possible, and any faults or blemishes must be handled in great haste, even to the detriment of my mental well-being. In the past I’ve had the tendency to overdo it, and instead of fixing the problem efficiently, I end up spending more money than necessary.

What I need to focus on is not let the condition of the GT3 affect my mood for the rest of the time, nor should I concern with things I cannot do anything about in the present moment. Currently I’ve got on order an emergency jack (off a 996-era 911!), which will allow me to raise the car to better check for exactly where the puncture is. The item won’t be arriving until end of this week, so I’ve got to practice keeping my mind off that until that time arrives; there’s far too much to do still during the week.

Detach.

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Ninjas of the night.

Being 'in the moment' is difficult

As studying stoic, one of the many things taught to us is to focus on the present, take in what's directly in front of us and not let the mind wander forward towards the future nor backwards to the past. 

Easier said than done. 

Take for example driving to work. As soon as I get into the car, I start thinking about what's ahead waiting for me once I get there. Try as I may to focus on enjoying the drive, taking in the weather, being grateful for the sublime engineering that is the Mazda MX-5, my mind inevitably skips ahead to the workplace. Being in the moment takes constant practice, and some days are more difficult than others. 

A good trick to alleviate some of the impulses is to never procrastinate at work - and at home. Whatever items need to be done, I try to complete it as soon as possible - don't wait. Otherwise the unfinished things will compound the tendencies to distract from the present, especially those of the workplace. 

I don't suppose it'll ever be perfect, this 'being present' business, but getting near it is good goal because my anxiety levels have gone down commensurately. 

Stoicism

I’ve recently being reading about Stoicism, and one of the particular tenets that struck me deeply was the maxim of, and I’m paraphrasing here, “it’s already broken.” As in, think of your material possessions as if they are already broken and imperfect. That way, when those items do inevitably decay and get damaged, you wound’t be so fraught over it as people, me definitely included, tend to do. 

The tendency to overprotect and maintain perfection was especially acute back when I bought my Subaru Impreza WRX STI. I treated that thing better than myself: the front-end got an insanely expensive paint-protection film done, and the entire car got a permanent coat of synthetic wax (also not cheap). Every new nick and chip was scrutinized and agonized over, while fresh bird-droppings on the paint were dealt with swiftly to the point of obsession. A tiny scratch suddenly appears? Better break out that scrubbing compound!

In hindsight, such pursuit of perfection never bought me joy or comfort; if anything I was in a constant state of paranoia, And this extends to things beyond simply the car - think of all the money spent on protection-covers and sleeves that were purchased for my precious consumer electronic devices (though I’ll never understand why people put glass covers on their smartphone that already comes with scratch-proof glass).

 I’ve let the proverbial things to own me, instead of the other way around. For sure it’s been a constant struggle to change that paradigm, but slowly I think I endeavor to rid myself of obsessive over keeping things perfect (though not necessarily to the point of neglect). Imaging items as already broken makes an excellent affirmation.