While I don’t consider myself to be a very rash or emotional person in general, helping someone through the birthing of a baby is a particularly stressful time. During the labor, there is a lot of someone else in pain and a great deal of waiting. And for the most part, everything feels out of control, or at least out of your control.

Because of my meditation practice, however, I found that I was accepting of these circumstances. I had a decent handle on what I could do to help and whether or not worrying about it would benefit me or Melanie.

Through the early stages of labor, I focused on being present for Melanie, on making sure that she was as comfortable as she could be. When she was rushed to the Operating Room with a breech baby about to come out (a situation very few medical professionals have experience with), I did not feel the need to panic. I knew that I could do nothing about the circumstances, but I could be there for Melanie no matter what the resolution. I give meditation much of the credit for this mindset. I give much of the rest of the credit to our awesome doula, Kathleen, who was a calm, knowledgeable presence the entire time.

The meditative mindset has also come in handy since the birth of the girls. There was a lot of waiting–in the NICU, in the hospital room, in the pediatrician’s office–and I found that my tolerance for the waiting was pretty high.

And then there are the babies. They require a great deal of patience and calm. I often find myself remembering to breathe, to focus on my physical reaction to crying and crying and crying in order to not let that non-stop pressure overwhelm me.

On the whole, then, I would say that the meditation has been essential for my making it through the whole experience with an even keel. From what I have read and heard, the effect of a consistent meditation practice continues to build as you stay consistent with it. I have kept it up but not as purposefully. My streak, according to the Calm app, is just over 40 days. Quite a few of those sessions were just quick trips to falling asleep or napping, but that is useful too. As I start to develop a slightly more regular schedule, I plan on making sure focused meditation has a place in it because I think that will be quite beneficial.

There have also been some rather extreme changes in my life in the last few days, mainly the birth of our twin girls, Caroline and Emerson. That process has occupied most of my mind space for previous seventy-two hours or so. It was a wild experience with lots of drama and ups and downs, and while it still isn’t really over yet, I have had a chance to do a little reflecting on how the Happiness Challenge has benefited me throughout the journey.

In the next few posts, I’ll run through each of the challenges–Meditation, Exercise, Gratitude, Kindness, and Positive Journaling–and catalog how they were manifested in the beginning of the twinpocalypse. And then I’ll probably have a Conclusion that talks about the overall experience of the 30 Day Happiness Challenge. I hoping to stick to my regular schedule, but I am not going to stress about that.

I  was close to settling on an option. Then Melanie went into labor late Saturday night. On the way to the hospital, I realized that none of my ideas were worth starting at this critical time. I know, you’re thinking, “And it took you how long to figure that out?”

If I tried to force my new routine on my situation, I would most likely just fail and cause myself, and my family, an unnecessary amount of stress. Instead, I need to recognize that this is a season for taking care of new babies and Theo and Melanie.

I might get some blog posts up, and I might not. Either way will be fine. I don’t need to complicate everything with a new 30 Day Challenge. My ideas will be there when the time is right. And I trust that you will be too.

Or, as Melanie just suggested, I could do the stand 30 Days of Taking Care of Twins Challenge. Although, you might not be able to play along at home. 

She has mentioned several times that the process is frustrating because they often do not treat her like a person, they treat her like a case. And she has suggested that she would never have felt that way, or been treated that way, by the midwives she had with Theo.

The main difference in the care given is that the midwives make it abundantly clear that they do in fact care. They listen and ask questions and encourage you to ask questions. They show compassion and offer encouragement.

To be fair, the doctors and nurses have generally given that overall impression too. But they have gatekeepers. They have a whole crew of receptionists and assistants and administrative staff who keep the place running smoothly. That running smoothly, however, is mostly for the benefit of the doctor at the cost of the patients.

I realize that I don’t have the behind the curtain perspective for most of this stuff, that there are best practices and reasons for many of the policies that are in place, all of which is likely overly complicated by insurance. But it is difficult to understand how the patient can be so far done on the priority list. Or at least have that as the dominant impression.

Mostly, it just reminds me to be empathetic, to remember the John Watson quote, “Be kind; everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.” And it makes me wish other people would remember it.

Theo, in typical form, said, “No, this truck,” and took one from the stroller to roll it down the slide before trekking back across the play area to repeat the entire process several times.

This can be tough for me to watch. I want to say, “No. There’s a better way. Maximize the efficiency of your trips and you’ll spend less time walking and more time sliding.” Or something like that. To me, there’s a goal–getting the trucks down the slide–and there are direct and roundabout ways of accomplishing that goal. Direct is better.

To Theo, there’s play. At one moment, it involves rolling a truck down the slide. At another, it involves climbing through the playground to retrieve another truck. One is not a higher priority than the other. One is not the endgame. As long as he is enjoying himself, he doesn’t care too much what amount of work is getting done. It isn’t about accomplishing anything for him.

I’ve gotten better about letting that go, allowing him to figure out his own method even when it is the slowest way I could possibly think of. In part, I do this because it is good for him to come up with his own problem solving process. In part, I do it because there often isn’t an actual problem to be solved. It’s just all experimenting and learning and playing.

Or, I should say that I’ve gotten better at letting that go with Theo. For myself, it is difficult for me to approach a problem without first considering, at least in some way, how it might best be accomplished. I want to eliminate waste, look for repetitive or unnecessary tasks. I think some of that is my personality and some is my (limited) background with programming. I’m a process guy, a systems guy.

This is sometimes to my advantage. By spending a little time thinking about the end result, and the steps needed to reach it, I can save myself some time or effort. I can speed up a process like washing the dishes by putting like things together, fitting as much as I can into the sink to maximizing soak time.

Other times, though, this planning and thinking part of the process actually just keeps me from taking any action. Worried that I might not have the best way, I run through more possibilities and end up taking longer than if I had just jumped in. Or, I exhaust all my energy thinking about what to do and ultimately don’t do anything at all.

Besides, the fastest way isn’t always the best. The most efficient process might not actually produce the results I want. This is particularly true when approaching a craft like writing.

Sometimes, our time is not best spent thinking about the quickest way to solve a problem. Sometimes, we should just be writing through it. We should allow the exploration to happen on the page rather than in our head. We should acknowledge that it is all part of the process. We might enjoy some parts more than others, but it is all writing, and we have to embrace it.

Otherwise, we might be so afraid of inefficiency that we’re scared to write multiple drafts. We might not want to cut unnecessary scenes because we already put in the time to write them. We might not be open to the possibility of changing a story’s point of view because that would mean lots of tedious rewriting.

Look, we all like watching the truck glide down an incline, picking up speed until it flips off the end of the slide and tumbles through the dirt. But retrieving the truck is part of the process too. So is walking to the park and stomping in the puddles along the curb.

The more we can embrace all of it, the better our chances of getting some terrific crashes at the bottom of the slide. And more importantly, the happier we’ll be when the truck doesn’t even make it to the bottom. Because that is part of it too.

Meditation

I got about ten minutes in this morning. Although, to be honest, it should probably only count for like five because I kept breaking my concentration to see if Theo was awake. You don’t want to be so focused that you open your eyes to see a toddler staring at you for who knows how long. I have found the quiet moments, even during the guided meditations, to be less fraught lately. Or maybe I’m just not remembering well.

Exercise

As we were getting ready to head to bed, I sighed at Melanie, “I haven’t done any exercise today.” It was my way of admitting failure, of accepting that my last day of this challenge would probably be a bit of a letdown. Her response was, “The day’s not over.” That’s the kind of accountability you can get from communicating with others. So, I did several different ab exercises, some lunges, a few push ups, and had some rebozo time. This last exercise is a great arm/shoulder workout, but it’s probably best left to those with a pregnant spouse, or at least someone who trusts you a great deal.

Gratitude

1. I’m grateful that Melanie’s mom has been around to help out around the house and with Theo. I haven’t mentioned this before because it’s such an overwhelming amount of gratitude, that it hardly feels like justice to throw it in here with all these other things. But I thought about it tonight because these likely would not have made it out every day without her help.
2. I’m grateful that despite Wednesday often feeling like Fridays to me, Thursdays aren’t that bad. That’s my story today anyway. I’ll have to see how tomorrow goes.
3. I’m grateful for this challenge. I haven’t decided how to sum it all up yet, but I know that I appreciate the concept, and I am glad that I managed to stick with it to the end.

Kindness

I did some research and found a pool where Melanie could take a break from gravity. Having near-full-term twins in your body is no joke, and it has been taking its toll on her for a while. The pool isn’t a perfect solution, but it allowed her to get a brief respite. I haven’t been counting kindness toward my family in this challenge (for the most part), but it’s almost over, so who’s going to complain at this point? Also, Melanie really loves swimming, so I feel it was an extra dose of kindness.

Something positive

I originally typed most of this up offline because the internet wasn’t working on the laptop. That’s not a positive thing. However, for some reason, when I started typing I had it in my head that this was Day 29 of the challenge. I didn’t realize until I went to my dashboard to paste in my stuff and finish everything that it was actually Day 30, the last day of the challenge. This is probably for the best. Otherwise, I might have tried to make an effort to make this day extra special. But it’s just Day 30, just like Day 24 or Day 9. Except that the challenge is over now.

I’m going to do a little reflection over the next few days, and I hope to report on that over the weekend. Thanks for being on this short journey with me.

I had acclimated, allowing a slow build of imperfections to become the norm.

The new screen protector was clear, nearly imperceptible atop the original glass. Not only did it look good, but it felt good too. My thumb would glide across the screen with little hesitation where there had been friction before.

Just moments before, I thought the screen protector was doing alright. Sure, it had some issues, but I didn’t think it warranted going through all the trouble to replace it. I had to first take it off to see what the screen used to look like, to realize how much the old protector was changing my experience with the phone.

It is that way in so many areas of my life.

I noticed a stark difference when I finally picked up my new glasses. There was the slight change in prescription (which actually took longer than I thought to get used to), but even more than that was the clarity of the lenses. The old ones were scuffed and scraped, with small bubbles from the deteriorated anti-glare coating. The news lenses were immaculate. So much so, that small smudges and particles of dust now distract me. I have to keep them clean because I notice now when anything obscures my vision.

When we painted the bedroom, it was obvious that the walls hadn’t been cleaned in some time. When I start to eat too much, it isn’t generally one giant meal that does me in. It’s a slow increase in the amount I eat that causes my clothes to start feeling uncomfortable. It’s a gradual uptick in the amount of coffee I drink that makes my need for caffeine so strong.

Unwanted habits can sneak up on us in our writing too. We start taking more frequent breaks to check Facebook or put off writing that chapter just a few hours at a time. We grow accustomed to putting off the work, to allowing distractions to keep us from the grind. And then a day has gone by, and another, and then we wonder where the month went.

We have to be wary of acclimating to our circumstances. Pointing a few degrees in the wrong direction can quickly derail our entire plan if we don’t take time to reassess and correct.

But we have to make sure we notice the good changes too.

I have been slowly losing weight over the last few months–mostly by getting some healthy protein in the morning and not keeping much unhealthy food at the office–but I don’t really notice it. Occasionally, though, someone will say, “Have you lost weight?” or, as a co-worker recently accused, “You’re getting skinny.” (I’m pretty sure she meant it as a compliment, but I’m also aware that I haven’t really been putting on any muscle.) I see my face and body in the mirror every day (almost every day), so it is difficult to notice the accumulation of change.

You might haven’t forgotten how difficult it was to run your first 5k if you’ve been practicing for a half-marathon. If you’ve been writing on a consistent basis, you’ve probably improved a great deal. But you might not notice because you see your work all the time. You notice the flaws and are comparing yourself to where you want to be, not where you used to be.

Make sure you take time to appreciate the good habits you’ve built. Not so you can be proud of yourself. So you can see that you are committed to your goals and allow that to serve as motivation to keep at them.

It doesn’t matter so much if we are singing about trucks or trash or boogers or puppies. He is often happy to make up words and even sing along when the mood strikes.

I enjoy this time, especially because I know that I’m not that great at playing the guitar or singing. (They are both skills I plateaued a long time ago.) I could stress about my lack of ability or my tendency to sing off key or work my way into a lyrical corner. Instead, I play to my audience. Theo doesn’t know much about skill or talent yet. He just knows that we are having fun, and that is good enough for him.

Not that he’s the perfect audience for every situation. He wouldn’t be helpful if I wanted some critical feedback or advice about when to switch to the bridge. But he is ideal for reminding me that I enjoy playing the guitar and wouldn’t mind getting better at it.

Sometimes, that’s the audience you need, the one that lights up no matter what you write, the one that reminds you why you were attracted to writing in the first place. Other times, you need a more critical eye, or you need advice about where to send a story or an inquiry letter.

The key is to match your expectations to the audience, or vice versa.

Or, you might want to give your audience some guidance if possible. It can be painful to send a piece to a friend, expecting them to pat you on the back or praise your imagery only to get back a list of plot holes. It can be frustrating to have a workshop spend an hour discussing typos and dialogue tags when what you really want to know is whether or not your protagonist is likable.

You can’t always choose your audience, or direct how they will read your work, but you can keep it in mind. And you can temper your expectations when you know a little more about them. You might not want to submit your fantasy novel to a group who focuses on mystery stories, for example.

By paying attention to your audience, you can avoid frustration for you and for them.

Theo is still a toddler, though, so his positive feedback can turn negative in an instant. And his criticism usually sounds like, “I just wish you would stop playing the guitar. It hurts my ears.”

Got in ten minutes at work this morning. I noticed that about seven minutes in (this is mostly a guess) that I felt my mind shift a little. It seemed to become more focused on being quiet. I’ve had this happen before, and I think it is some kind of sweet spot for meditation, where it doesn’t feel so much like a battle to keep my mind clear. It is fleeting, of course, quickly replaced by the struggle of rambling. But I think it means I’m occasionally stretching myself.

Exercise

Another wet day, which meant I had to look for ways to get my exercise indoors. I decided to try to do a yoga session, even if that meant having Theo hassle me the whole time. But, the rain gave us a break when I got home, so we had a chance to do some running through puddles and around the cul-de-sac.

Gratitude

1. I’m grateful for new windshield wipers. Mine were well worn, rubber flapping and blade streaking, when I replaced them a few weeks ago. They have come in handy while driving through the fat rain we’ve been having.
2. I’m grateful for the digital picture frame I have at the office. While the photos are somewhat outdated (I think the newest is over a year old) they are lovely and remind me of why I go to work every day. Although, they also remind me of why I would rather be at home (or at least close by) every day.
3. I’m grateful for puddles and Theo’s joy when he runs through them, pushing various trucks and cars around, making small wakes and bubbles in his path.

Kindness

Sent a message to a friend on Facebook encouraging her to keep sharing herself with the world. She’s funny and talented, and I hope she sees some encouraging successes in her work soon.

Something positive

We got to say hi to a few neighbors while doing all our puddle stomping, and it reminded me that, for the most part, we have pleasant people around us. We hardly know any of them, but they are always nice and make a point to try to talk to Theo (he doesn’t always oblige). Sometimes my frustrations about our house or the HOA make me forget that I enjoy our neighborhood.

So, one day to go. I’m not certain what I’ll do with myself when it’s over.

Meditation

Despite traffic working against me this morning, I managed to set aside a few minutes for meditation at the office. I was already thinking about work stuff, so I found it difficult to keep that from worming its way into my thoughts. It still felt good to get it taken care of early on.

Exercise

I took a few flights of stairs before going for a shorter walk at lunch. I didn’t want to stray too far from the office since we’ve had sporadic rain all day. I might try a few extra steps on the stairs on my way out also. I can’t really count on any running with Theo time when the weather is like this. (Update from the future: I did a few flights of stairs and managed to run around outside with Theo for a while.)

Gratitude

1. I’m grateful for folks who occasionally mention this challenge in our conversations. That has happened a few times in the last few days, and it helps remind me that this thing is getting farther than the walls of my house. And if it makes some small positive impact for someone, it is worth sharing even when that feels like a burden.
2. I’m grateful to have an archive of these posts. I haven’t actually looked back at them much, but I know it will be gratifying to do so when the challenge is complete. Also, I just did a quick scan of past gratitudes, which helped prevent a repeat.
3. I’m grateful for frozen pizza. I know it’s no way to live my life, but sometimes its convenience and price tag is a magical thing.

Kindness

I complimented a coworker on her dress today. It was quirky and unusual, and I appreciate her willingness to be different, which I expressed. I’m hoping to get some additional kindness in, but this is what I have for now. (Future update: nothing to add.)

Something positive

While our driveway is cracked, uneven, and in need of repair, Theo enjoys running his truck over the changes in elevation like he’s offroading or something. Also, he loves puddles, and they were in ample supply this afternoon.

That’s four weeks. Only two days left until the big reveal. (Sorry, that’s some other kind of challenge.) I have an idea for my next challenge and should have details soon. Stay tuned because it will involve some audience participation.