The Wall: Part One

Where the Wall, the Freeze, and the Lesson All Meet

I am always doing and learning new things, and my lifelong love of rocks and masonry is an itch that I am truly ready to scratch. I have watched tons of videos and made the trip to Menards to get all of the supplies. I’m ready to tackle this calling that truly lights me up—it makes me really happy. 

The first step in repairing a small retaining wall, since the whole wall does not need to come down, is to dig out the dirt behind it. That’s simple enough. About fifteen minutes in, I hit what felt like a root. I didn’t stop, but I didn’t go all out either, and I kept pulling at the resistance. Boom. I cracked a fifty-seven-year-old piece of conduit that houses the wiring to an old and precious light seated right behind the wall. I said an expletive out loud. Then I took a moment to stop and think—to feel what had just happened. 

My first thought was that I should have known it was there. Not in a “you’re an idiot” kind of way, but in a way I couldn’t quite place. I knew this meant I would need to repair the conduit, but how much repair would it take? And now I couldn’t just use a big shovel to dig out the rest of the twenty square feet of dirt that needed to come out before I could put gravel behind the wall. 

I dug a little more, then decided to pick it back up in the morning, when I do my best work—physically and emotionally. I told my husband what happened, but we are not the couple that does work like this together. He listened, but he’s not invested in solving the problem. 

When I woke the next morning, my head was spinning. How to deal with the broken conduit, and how to face several more days of work ahead on this project. My mind was full of noise and negativity. So, I did a thought dump. Two pages of it. Thoughts about everything from the Teamsters Union boss I was listening to on a podcast yesterday to the fact that my husband has been uncommonly short with me for a few weeks. The takeaway was that they were all negative thoughts. That’s what was swimming around in my head? Time for a reset. 

I listened to a few meditations, and after more than an hour of trying to lift my spirits, I realized I was stuck in freeze mode. That thing that happens when I get uncomfortable or overwhelmed. What started as an easy, feel-good project had hit a major snag. My mind said, “Why even bother? Throw the dirt back in and return the masonry supplies.” 

In that moment, I also saw how often I try to force my way through things. It never works. Force only tightens the grip of the freeze—it makes everything harder. The stones, the conduit, my emotions—none of them respond to pushing. They respond to patience, to presence. 

Where does this come from? And why does it keep showing up? 

Once I could name the icky feeling as “freeze,” I gained some perspective. As humans, we have three automatic survival responses—fight, flight, or freeze. In case you’re unfamiliar, here’s an article that explains more: https://tinyurl.com/2fpvt3j4 

As I continue my life of experiences and reflection, I’ve learned that freeze is my go-to. It can be “blamed” on my autonomic response system. It decided long ago in childhood that this was the best response to anything that felt uncomfortable. I freeze when I do accounting. I freeze when my husband gets upset. I freeze if I make my daughter mad. This response keeps me safe but not happy. 

I’ve been quiet too often when something needed to be resolved in my marriage. Glenn tends toward fight or flight, so it can feel easier to say nothing and let things go. That feels safer to my nervous system. When I do the accounting for the business and have to think through the math, my brain goes completely blank—unable to move through the invoices or pay the bills. 

If you read my blogs or my online content, you know this is my journey in life: to have experiences, reflect on them, and hopefully move through or beyond them. To find a new way of being comfortable—approaching tough issues with Glenn in a new way, settling into my body when I do accounting. The freeze is something I am actively in right now. Opportunities to maybe, finally get this right keep coming up. The feeling of getting through something is amazing. It brings peace and freedom, but it never comes easy. I have to sit back, see the lesson, and feel the experience in my body. 

So this morning, I did just that, and the emotion became clear. Freeze again. Maybe it came from my dad yelling at me when I got something wrong or couldn’t answer 8x7 quickly enough. Either way, here it was again. So, because this was an electrical issue, I sought out help. 

There was more digging and wall repair to do. Then came another freeze. Piecing stones together is a jigsaw puzzle. I wanted to keep the same pattern that runs through the house—two rows of thinner stones and then a row of bigger, thicker ones. I stood looking at the piles of rocks I had taken down. The freeze and the self-doubt came back. “You can’t do this right.” But at this point, I didn’t have a choice. 

At the end of that first day, after the electrical issue was handled, I was frustrated that I couldn’t find a flow with the stones. I was making progress, but it was slow. I’d place a few, cement them in, and move to the next section. Slow progress. As I went to bed, I thought about how often I forget to ask for help—from the universe, source, God—whatever you want to call it. It’s always there and always wants to help us. So I asked for help, specifically in finding a flow with the stones. 

Day two was still slow going, but by midday, I hit a stride. The pieces started to fit together, and a vision of what it would look like took shape. I was so happy. That night, as I got into bed after another exhausting but satisfying day, it hit me. I did get the help I had asked for. So I closed my eyes and thanked the universe for its guidance. 

Today I’ll be doing office work and accounting, giving the wall a day or two off. The electrical will be completed on Thursday so I can move on that section. Rain may be coming over the weekend, so I’ll work on the wall Friday and get the tarps ready just in case. 

This lesson is one of following my bliss. Masonry is a deep, core calling that keeps showing up in my life. Freezing is another pattern that keeps showing up. Will I find the perfect combination to unlock something inside me and free myself to do whatever I want? Maybe. Maybe this is the time. Or maybe this is just another stepping stone. 

For now, I want to repair this wall correctly—not just tape the break and throw the conduit back in the ground. There were tears, but having clarity about what was happening gave me peace and direction. 

To be continued…