U/B 35: Scarcity is scary

Hypervigilance when there is not enough. Also, your brain's job is to keep you alive, not make you happy.

Hi.

I don’t feel very useful. Or beautiful.

And this letter is going to sound pretty needy. But I’m sending it anyway because I feel an obligation to write things that we’re not “supposed to” say out loud. There are too many people that suffer in silence, ashamed of what they consider failings but are actually just typical human fears.

It’s easy to think that other people have their shit figured out. And I guess some do. But plenty of us are wading through, in-between, wondering how the hell we got here and where are we even going. Most don’t talk about it. At least not openly. We’re supposed to “fake it until we make it” and there is some validity in that. Your thoughts become your reality. But what about when you cannot control your ruminations? Cannot divert your head to more productive, useful, and beautiful beliefs?

I haven’t written. How could I, when I can’t even live my own mantra? I’m not keeping only useful and/or beautiful thoughts. Actually no. Not keeping. The point is to return to it, not hold on. I’ve been failing there as well.

Why? (I always wonder why, even if there is no logical explanation.) This time, I might know the reason: Scarcity mindset.

Scarcity is scary

Scarcity¹ has hijacked my mind so now the small-self, lizard brain, ego, and survival-mode self as been driving this Earth body.

I recently picked up the book Scarcity: Why Having Too Little Means So Much by behavioral economist Sendhil Mullainathan and psychologist Eldar Shafir. The gist is this: Scarcity makes us less capable and less intelligent. It literally reduces executive functioning and IQ.

It’s so unfair. Life gets your down and then your own brain is like Oh, you want to be creative, capable, and compassionate? Nuh-uh. You gotta focus on staying alive. One more misstep and you’re done. You’re wasting time, racking up debt, and you’re going to lose your husband, your kids, the house, the cats, and all your craft supplies. Oh and your cancer will probably come back anyway.

See how it goes?

When scarcity and fear are present, it takes extra courage to act with love. To show up with curiosity instead of rigidity. To be creative.

So yeah. I have not written.

I have been scared that:

• I’m not presenting myself as strong enough. My writing has been too vulnerable, exposing me as tired in a culture where productivity and speed are worshiped at the altar of capitalism.

• There isn’t enough time. My writing took too much time — time that should have been spent generating income. Writing is self-indulgent and irresponsible.

• My writing isn’t good enough. Plenty of other people write more beautifully about things similar to me. So why bother?

• There aren’t enough people out there who want or need my words. Or if there are, I don’t know how to find them and I don’t have the luxury of waiting.

• My ideas aren’t creative enough, It’s not safe to fail and it’s hard to try new things when there’s no cushion.

• I am a failure because I couldn’t make enough money to stay self employed.

• My skillset isn’t valuable enough in this job market. Employers don’t seem to want thoughtful & deliberate.

• I must not be useful enough.

• I am running out of time because I am running out of money. I’ve got to ratchet up the vigilance even more.

Things can feel quite bleak when you don’t have enough. Or at least when you feel like there is not enough. Whatever your idea of enough is. Because that is subjective. One person’s not enough is another person’s dream reality.

That’s not to say that we ought to be grateful for our pain, say At least it’s not as bad as their pain, because your suffering is yours to bear even if you think you shouldn’t.

It’s actually your brain’s job. Not to make you suffer, but to keep you alive. And having you think about all the potentially horrible things that could cause you even more pain, loss, suffering, etc is its way of keeping you alert for danger.

Comic by The Oatmeal

Hypervigilance

Oh yeah. I forgot to tell you about the constant screaming.

For more than a year I’ve been jump-scared to the point of shrieking almost daily. Loud noises or sudden movements trigger a startle response, like I’m some prey in the woods. I think I’m in hypervigilance. It’s not a great way to live. Plus, I’m freaking out the kids.

Kids: Mom, are you okay?

Husband: Yes. She’s fine.

Me: It’s okay. I’m okay.

I am not okay.

Well, I am and I’m not.

Through

I don’t write this as a plea for help, though I won’t turn it down. Advice, introductions, anything you think could help me find others who appreciate what I can do.

Many people tell me to be patient, that my time will come. I know. Or rather, I believe. We don’t actually know what the future holds. Besides death. Fun reminder!

Faith has no preconceptions; it is a plunge into the unknown. Belief clings, but faith lets go.
- Alan Watts

My other blog, Daily Sticky, is littered with these sorts of messages. Things take the time they take. Our suffering is believing there is a way out. The obstacle is the way.

And they are useful (and beautiful) when they help. But the ol’ brain ain’t doing what I want it to. The Stoics lied. Marcus Aurelius lied. The only thing you have control over is your mind, not outside events. Bullshit. I don’t even have control there.

So then what? What to do?

I’ve journaled. Taken long walks in the woods. Spoken to trees. Lit candles under a full moon. Cast spells into the creek. Played tuning forks and singing bowls. Meditated. Slept. Made crafts. Talked to friends and family (probably not enough of this). Hugged my kids. Held cats. Gardened. Read a hundred and one books. Focused on the present. Named five things I can see, and so on.

I still feel beholden to external influences.

I hate it.

But then I remind myself to breathe. To unclench my jaw, relax my shoulders.

The way out is through.

---

I appreciate you, and I hope you know that. Your attention is a gift.

Love,

Kate

Oh! One more thing. I wanted to share with you that…

I’m selling craft patterns

One cool thing I’ve been doing is designing craft patterns to sell on my Etsy shop, FableTop.etsy.com. It’s good for me. I get to be creative and make things with my hands, which is soothing. I’m teaching myself Adobe Illustrator (again) and enjoying learning.

There are currently 3 patterns for sale:

• Felt Tigers (orange, white, and blue Kpop Demon Hunters inspired derpy tiger)

• Felt Dia de los Muertos skeleton cat

• Felt Breast Cancer Guardian Cat

Want to know when I release new patterns? Sign up at Fabletopdesign.com

I’m not selling the actual felt toys on Etsy, but I will sell them to friends here and there. DM me if you want one (or more).

Here are some photos of the patterns and the objects you can make with them. Will you share these ideas with fellow craft makers in your life?

Get the pattern at FableTop.etsy.com

Get the pattern at FableTop.etsy.com

Get the pattern at FableTop.etsy.com

You’re awesome. Thank you.

1. Word nerd alert! TIL (today I learned) that ‘scary’ and ‘scarcity’ do not have the same root origin:

• Scare comes to Middle English from Old Norse skirra, from skjarr shy, timid. Perhaps it’s because a shy or timid person scares easily?

• Scarcity is the state of being scarce, which comes to Middle English from Anglo-French eschars, escars narrow, stingy, deficient, which comes from Vulgar Latin excarpsus, literally, plucked out, past participle of Latin excerpere to pluck out. That’s the same root as excerpt.