"We do not heal the past by living there; we heal the past by living fully in the present." Marianne Williamson
"There are simply two days in the year that nothing can be done. One is called yesterday and the other is called tomorrow, so today is the right day to love, believe, do and mostly live." Dalai Lama (supposedly)
"The impeded stream is the one that sings." Wendell Berry
Okay, it's another quote day. But aren't these good ones? One would answer that depending on where a person is in life, I suppose. Well, I am where they are good for me.
I realized something this past week. I have been grieving my illness. Not 24/7, but close to it. I forgot about it for awhile in Aruba. No physical demands there, good weather, so the body and mind were happy to cooperate and just let me feel better. Not completely myself, but just ... better.
But much of the time, even if not externally, I wear my illness like a heavy cloak, and it can be smothering. I know it's there. I resent it. I wish things were different. I see the gifts that have come to me from having it, but I also see my limitations and how my life has changed as a result of it. And I wish things were different.
Yet, "the impeded stream is the one that sings."
So, what is my song? Well, what if, as Jack Canfield says, I acted 'as if?' As if I were okay with having limitations? As if I were okay with having the illness? As if I could still do what I wanted - within reason - finding ways, asking for help, refusing to play the victim or the martyr? What if I allowed myself to enjoy life despite my illness?
What if I just let go and refused to put on that internal cloak of sadness? What if I lived fully in the present, letting go of what used to be so the present me can sing?
What if I made today, and every day, the right day to love and live? What would that look and feel like?
To remember my heart and it's desires.
Grieving. Playing the martyr or victim. All part of codependence. Am I codependent with this disease? Possibly. Can I change that? Absolutely.
I close with one more quote, this one from Danielle La Porte. "The journey has to feel the way you want the destination to feel." Each day. Feeling, being, and then some doing. Grief, you have served a valuable purpose. Thank you for your lessons.
Thursday, December 19, 2013
Sunday, September 29, 2013
Places
I pour the bath water and add a few drops of lavender oil. I feel the sweet warmth of this routine follow me, even though I am moving as I undress and put my clothes away. My closet is attached to and open to the bathroom. My eyes graze over my mainly hanged clothes as I prepare in my mind what I will wear tomorrow. No need to lay it out, I see all the pieces within easy reach.
This house surprises me. Several years ago, we stayed at the Princeville Hotel on the norther shore of Kauai. The hotel is famous for their room spray, and of course, we bought several bottles. But upon returning to our former home, I realize the room spray feels out of place there. So one of the pretty bottles goes on my dresser as decor, the other gets tucked away in the bathroom. Fast forward several years later to our new home.
Again, I go to put the bottle on my dresser as decor. But the thought of trying a spritz somehow emerges, I don't remember how or why, and I spray the entry way. The odor feels perfectly at home there. How odd! I am intrigued by this. I thought I didn't care for the scent. But I love it here. We don't have the yard views our old home had, but we do have wonderful light.
It doesn't take long for the lightly scented lavender bath to soothe and warm my body.
Someone told me recently, "What a great opportunity to move and sort of reinvent yourself. No taking or need to talk about any of the old baggage, you get to be the present you." I reflect on this statement and realize, "But I like myself as I am." And I realize, I am the present me, baggage and all. And it's all okay with me. At least, most of the time.
But I think I know what she was trying to convey. We don't have to go to a new place to let go of things that need to be let go, but sometimes, it certainly does help.
"I love the feeling of being anonymous in a city I've never been before."
I've felt this. Even recently. Maybe it was Aruba. Aruba changed me. Laugh all you want, but a person can get in touch with themselves on the Jolly Pirate Snorkel Tour, AND accomplish this without using the open bar. I'm sure the rope swing and the dancing didn't hurt. I put it down to being on a sailboat, wind in my hair, clear Carribean water all around me, swathed in crystal sky, crystal water and crystal sand along the coastline. I feel prisms of light bathing me, carried by light, water and wind.
My daughter said to me once upon my return from Hawaii, "Mother, you live in the wrong state." A very true statement. I spray the room spray nearly every morning and sometimes in the evening. I wonder what adventures await.
This house surprises me. Several years ago, we stayed at the Princeville Hotel on the norther shore of Kauai. The hotel is famous for their room spray, and of course, we bought several bottles. But upon returning to our former home, I realize the room spray feels out of place there. So one of the pretty bottles goes on my dresser as decor, the other gets tucked away in the bathroom. Fast forward several years later to our new home.
Again, I go to put the bottle on my dresser as decor. But the thought of trying a spritz somehow emerges, I don't remember how or why, and I spray the entry way. The odor feels perfectly at home there. How odd! I am intrigued by this. I thought I didn't care for the scent. But I love it here. We don't have the yard views our old home had, but we do have wonderful light.
It doesn't take long for the lightly scented lavender bath to soothe and warm my body.
Someone told me recently, "What a great opportunity to move and sort of reinvent yourself. No taking or need to talk about any of the old baggage, you get to be the present you." I reflect on this statement and realize, "But I like myself as I am." And I realize, I am the present me, baggage and all. And it's all okay with me. At least, most of the time.
But I think I know what she was trying to convey. We don't have to go to a new place to let go of things that need to be let go, but sometimes, it certainly does help.
"I love the feeling of being anonymous in a city I've never been before."
I've felt this. Even recently. Maybe it was Aruba. Aruba changed me. Laugh all you want, but a person can get in touch with themselves on the Jolly Pirate Snorkel Tour, AND accomplish this without using the open bar. I'm sure the rope swing and the dancing didn't hurt. I put it down to being on a sailboat, wind in my hair, clear Carribean water all around me, swathed in crystal sky, crystal water and crystal sand along the coastline. I feel prisms of light bathing me, carried by light, water and wind.
My daughter said to me once upon my return from Hawaii, "Mother, you live in the wrong state." A very true statement. I spray the room spray nearly every morning and sometimes in the evening. I wonder what adventures await.
Sunday, July 28, 2013
Food, glorious Food!
About a year and a half ago, I lost 15 pounds. Didn't mean to, I was just trying to eat better after the health crash, so my body would have one less thing to fight. I've had several people ask me how I did it, and how I maintain my weight.
The book I based and continue to base my diet on is Eat to Live. Notice I used the word 'base.' I like this meal plan for several reasons, but I do tweak it. What I like about it:
It's simple. No measuring, don't have to worry about 5 snacks a day, or eating every 2-3 hours. Not my style. Eat three meals a day, as much of you want of most foods, because the foods are so good for you.
Nutritionally, it makes a lot of sense to me. The text was written with an eye towards disease prevention and regression. Nothing outrageous or outlandish about the program, one doesn't even need to take a boatload of supplements.
I am LDS (Mormon) and we have been given health code guidelines. This is the first eating plan that falls pretty much in line with those guidelines. My guess is no matter what religion, one can tweak it for their guidelines as well.
How I tweak: I do eat meat/dairy occasionally. I have dessert every so often, now that I am at my goal weight. One can have one big dessert say every 2-4 weeks, or one could have a small treat every couple of days. (Chocolate truffles anyone?)
My husband has been on this basic plan for several months now and has lost 20 pounds. Without much extra exercise.
So, what do I eat? This post is to answer that question. I highly rec the book to anyone, it is mostly research which can be quite motivating, and then you get to the guidelines.
So, here goes! Breakfast, which I rotate according to my mood:
1. Oatmeal (from whole oats, not processed) cooked with some water in the microwave. My husband likes his cooked the old fashioned way on the stove. And yes, he cooks his own as the microwave doesn't seem good enough for him, lol. Told you I like things simple. To the oatmeal I add Costco frozen berries (strawberry/blueberry/raspberry blend, but a cup of whatever fruit you have on hand will work, too), a small handful of walnuts (great for Omega 3s), and a titch of vegan butter or brown sugar if I am in the mood. We are just talking a titch!
2. Berry smoothie and nut butter: In a decent blender, mix 1/2 c. rice or soy or almond milk, 1/2 c. water, 3/4 c. frozen berries, and a handful of fresh or frozen greens. You can add a banana or an ounce of fruit juice or a T of fruit juice concentrate if you want added sweetness. Blueberry pomegranate juice is really good, and good for you. The nut butter? I love almond butter, and I eat it (2 tsp) right off the spoon. Decadence! My husband likes his spread on sprouted grain bread. We only eat sprouted or sourdough bread these days. It's delicious and filling and gluten sensitivities don't seem to be an issue with it. BTW, to freeze greens: We buy ours at Costco or Trader Joe's, buying spinach or kale (baby or regular), or other mixes, say with mustard greens, then throw in gallon ziploc bags and freeze. Wash and dry before freezing as needed. The greens freeze in a dry manner, vs. buying the store type of frozen greens, which are often soggy.
3. Chocolate smoothie: I buy Spirutein chocolate shake mix and add a banana and 2 tsp. nut butter. I may get away from this one, as the spirutein is made with soy protein isolates, and I have read that this is not the best for folks. Better to eat soy in more whole food forms, such as edamame, tofu, soy milk, etc ...
So, tht is all for now Will write more later with my lunch and dinner parts of the plan.
The book I based and continue to base my diet on is Eat to Live. Notice I used the word 'base.' I like this meal plan for several reasons, but I do tweak it. What I like about it:
It's simple. No measuring, don't have to worry about 5 snacks a day, or eating every 2-3 hours. Not my style. Eat three meals a day, as much of you want of most foods, because the foods are so good for you.
Nutritionally, it makes a lot of sense to me. The text was written with an eye towards disease prevention and regression. Nothing outrageous or outlandish about the program, one doesn't even need to take a boatload of supplements.
I am LDS (Mormon) and we have been given health code guidelines. This is the first eating plan that falls pretty much in line with those guidelines. My guess is no matter what religion, one can tweak it for their guidelines as well.
How I tweak: I do eat meat/dairy occasionally. I have dessert every so often, now that I am at my goal weight. One can have one big dessert say every 2-4 weeks, or one could have a small treat every couple of days. (Chocolate truffles anyone?)
My husband has been on this basic plan for several months now and has lost 20 pounds. Without much extra exercise.
So, what do I eat? This post is to answer that question. I highly rec the book to anyone, it is mostly research which can be quite motivating, and then you get to the guidelines.
So, here goes! Breakfast, which I rotate according to my mood:
1. Oatmeal (from whole oats, not processed) cooked with some water in the microwave. My husband likes his cooked the old fashioned way on the stove. And yes, he cooks his own as the microwave doesn't seem good enough for him, lol. Told you I like things simple. To the oatmeal I add Costco frozen berries (strawberry/blueberry/raspberry blend, but a cup of whatever fruit you have on hand will work, too), a small handful of walnuts (great for Omega 3s), and a titch of vegan butter or brown sugar if I am in the mood. We are just talking a titch!
2. Berry smoothie and nut butter: In a decent blender, mix 1/2 c. rice or soy or almond milk, 1/2 c. water, 3/4 c. frozen berries, and a handful of fresh or frozen greens. You can add a banana or an ounce of fruit juice or a T of fruit juice concentrate if you want added sweetness. Blueberry pomegranate juice is really good, and good for you. The nut butter? I love almond butter, and I eat it (2 tsp) right off the spoon. Decadence! My husband likes his spread on sprouted grain bread. We only eat sprouted or sourdough bread these days. It's delicious and filling and gluten sensitivities don't seem to be an issue with it. BTW, to freeze greens: We buy ours at Costco or Trader Joe's, buying spinach or kale (baby or regular), or other mixes, say with mustard greens, then throw in gallon ziploc bags and freeze. Wash and dry before freezing as needed. The greens freeze in a dry manner, vs. buying the store type of frozen greens, which are often soggy.
3. Chocolate smoothie: I buy Spirutein chocolate shake mix and add a banana and 2 tsp. nut butter. I may get away from this one, as the spirutein is made with soy protein isolates, and I have read that this is not the best for folks. Better to eat soy in more whole food forms, such as edamame, tofu, soy milk, etc ...
So, tht is all for now Will write more later with my lunch and dinner parts of the plan.
Friday, July 26, 2013
Passing Time
Ghandi said, "Be the change you want to see in the world." A popular phrase, oft quoted, and with good reason.
Today, I read this quote on FaceBook: "Be the gift you bring."
The gift you bring. Hmmm ... what are my gifts? I've been thinking about this a bit lately, as I have been reading Carol Tuttle's Dressing Your Truth: Discover Your Personal Beauty Profile. In my retirement from university, I have used color/fashion/typing as a pleasant distraction when I don't feel like 'doing.'
In this book, Carol talks about 4 distinct energy types, and how we each lead with one main type. Type 1 is the animated, bright woman. Type 2 is the soft, subtle woman. Type 3 is the rich, dynamic woman. And type 4 is the bold, striking woman. (The same categories apply to men, and these energies can be seen nearly from birth.)
She says we will know our type innately. I read the book, and I am not so sure I know my type. Or, I think I am sure, and then find some detail that seems contradictory. The cool thing I like in thinking about these types is that she is adamant we honor the gift(s) we bring according to type, to show that to the world. The symmetry and authenticity of that pleases me!
So I think on my gifts, hard to find beneath the blanket of fibro fog and a very changed lifestyle. I know I can be helpful, sweet and thoughtful. I can be dynamic for awhile. I can be bossy, and sometimes struggle with delivering direct messages if I perceive they will not be received well. I can research stuff on the computer for quite awhile ... I don't like projects, but I love being choir director and being in shows in musical theater. Are those things projects of a kind?
Sitting in my bathrobe the first hour I am up giving advice to women on fashion and color, and sometimes, to my great pleasure, even talking life - Is that a gift?
This morning, an unplanned hour, still in my bathrobe, letting darling son use my computer. I read a few more bits of the Tuttle book as he uploads pics from his latest trip - to Alaska - and we talk sporadically and he shows me pics and the time goes easily, even if I am a tad anxious to get back to my FB friends before showering. (I told you it was a pleasant distraction - oops, I mean diversion?)
Listening to my two sons as they talk easily of said trip and look together at the now uploaded pics. What a priceless gift to be witness to these conversations.
Finally showering, as same darling son has asked me to give him a ride to a couple of places. More talk, a rarity with this son. Alaska may have changed him. Our conversation is changing me ever so slightly. I feel the joy only a mother can feel when a child shares part of his heart. Our conversation is more adult and open than ever.
I think I am a type 4. The type 4 gift is simply our presence, just being there. Seems what I have been doing this morning.
But then there is a part of me that wants to fly, and laugh, and just be more myself. To just be. More. Something has been hiding or unknowingly put aside on a shelf. What is it?
Personality gets squashed, morphed, affected. A comment, a word, an event. It doesn't take much to put us on the path. Expectations of those around us. I remember when I was first married, my husband's brother commented, "S sort of just says what she thinks, doesn't she?" Well, first, I would never say anything if I thought it would intentionally hurt someone. I expect people to know I mean well. I've lived long enough now to know that is not always the case ... I am also learning not to lose any sleep over it. Still, at the time, the comment surprised me. No one had ever commented on it before.
The past few days, I have been letting myself be 'more' in my interactions. Well, more and less. More of myself, less afraid or hesitant to speak up and have fun, and sometimes even saying less, listening more. Just being. And that feels good. What does it mean in terms of my type and how I should dress? I'm not sure.
But I do know that as I re-read this post, there is latent judgment, judgment I am trying to put in it's proper place. The judging that sitting in my bathrobe for an hour is somehow 'wrong.' Judging that fashion is not a truly worthwhile endeavor, even as a hobby.
I sense my decisions shouldn't be about judgment, but should - no could - be based on conscious decisions I make about what I want my days to look and feel like. And that's a bit of what happened this morning. I chose to sit by my son as he uploaded his pics, not knowing beforehand that would lead to conversation, but grateful for it. I chose to give him a ride without much notice and let whatever the rest of the day could look like wait.
These judgments lead me back to my childhood. I loved to dance and sing - wanted to be an actress - but then high school happened and I was smart and everyone said go into engineering, you'll make lots of money. So I started on that path, and switched to the 'safe' degree of history after a year because it gave me options - and I hated engineering. I repeated that pattern as the kids got into school. I had just finished my first community theater show after a 12 year break, had even started commercial work, and what did I do? Woke up one morning and signed up for grad school. Guess some habits die hard.
Where did these messages come from? Maybe from having a dysfunctional type 4 stepfather, who grounded me if I got Bs on my report card. School and good grades were my safety net. Or maybe from having a later single working mother, who did her best, but I knew college would be very difficult to pay for if I didn't have the grades to get scholarships. Oh ye of little faith! Turns out the government ended up paying for every dime as my birth father had been killed in the military.
There were other messages, too. Don't be too happy or excited for your accomplishments, it will sound like bragging. No matter how much you might know, there is nothing like common sense. The last one was my own message to myself, I always envied people with common sense. I felt I had so little, though people seemed to put me in positions of authority.
Play down compliments on your appearance. That one came from several events, not the least of which was inappropriate comments from a teenage boy when I was just a young girl. Thank goodness it never went further than that. My extended family told me he wasn't quite right in the head. Sheesh. (That last bit was really hard to write. I don't say that for sympathy, though goodness knows what women go through growing up can be life altering. Only to use it as a an example in teaching.)
So we're not alone in this, are we ladies? And maybe knowing one's energy type is just another box for me. But I'm not going to apologize for the idea of it, especially about being aware of one's gifts to the world. I'd like to use it as a reference point for growth and added quality to my life.
Today, I read this quote on FaceBook: "Be the gift you bring."
The gift you bring. Hmmm ... what are my gifts? I've been thinking about this a bit lately, as I have been reading Carol Tuttle's Dressing Your Truth: Discover Your Personal Beauty Profile. In my retirement from university, I have used color/fashion/typing as a pleasant distraction when I don't feel like 'doing.'
In this book, Carol talks about 4 distinct energy types, and how we each lead with one main type. Type 1 is the animated, bright woman. Type 2 is the soft, subtle woman. Type 3 is the rich, dynamic woman. And type 4 is the bold, striking woman. (The same categories apply to men, and these energies can be seen nearly from birth.)
She says we will know our type innately. I read the book, and I am not so sure I know my type. Or, I think I am sure, and then find some detail that seems contradictory. The cool thing I like in thinking about these types is that she is adamant we honor the gift(s) we bring according to type, to show that to the world. The symmetry and authenticity of that pleases me!
So I think on my gifts, hard to find beneath the blanket of fibro fog and a very changed lifestyle. I know I can be helpful, sweet and thoughtful. I can be dynamic for awhile. I can be bossy, and sometimes struggle with delivering direct messages if I perceive they will not be received well. I can research stuff on the computer for quite awhile ... I don't like projects, but I love being choir director and being in shows in musical theater. Are those things projects of a kind?
Sitting in my bathrobe the first hour I am up giving advice to women on fashion and color, and sometimes, to my great pleasure, even talking life - Is that a gift?
This morning, an unplanned hour, still in my bathrobe, letting darling son use my computer. I read a few more bits of the Tuttle book as he uploads pics from his latest trip - to Alaska - and we talk sporadically and he shows me pics and the time goes easily, even if I am a tad anxious to get back to my FB friends before showering. (I told you it was a pleasant distraction - oops, I mean diversion?)
Listening to my two sons as they talk easily of said trip and look together at the now uploaded pics. What a priceless gift to be witness to these conversations.
Finally showering, as same darling son has asked me to give him a ride to a couple of places. More talk, a rarity with this son. Alaska may have changed him. Our conversation is changing me ever so slightly. I feel the joy only a mother can feel when a child shares part of his heart. Our conversation is more adult and open than ever.
I think I am a type 4. The type 4 gift is simply our presence, just being there. Seems what I have been doing this morning.
But then there is a part of me that wants to fly, and laugh, and just be more myself. To just be. More. Something has been hiding or unknowingly put aside on a shelf. What is it?
Personality gets squashed, morphed, affected. A comment, a word, an event. It doesn't take much to put us on the path. Expectations of those around us. I remember when I was first married, my husband's brother commented, "S sort of just says what she thinks, doesn't she?" Well, first, I would never say anything if I thought it would intentionally hurt someone. I expect people to know I mean well. I've lived long enough now to know that is not always the case ... I am also learning not to lose any sleep over it. Still, at the time, the comment surprised me. No one had ever commented on it before.
The past few days, I have been letting myself be 'more' in my interactions. Well, more and less. More of myself, less afraid or hesitant to speak up and have fun, and sometimes even saying less, listening more. Just being. And that feels good. What does it mean in terms of my type and how I should dress? I'm not sure.
But I do know that as I re-read this post, there is latent judgment, judgment I am trying to put in it's proper place. The judging that sitting in my bathrobe for an hour is somehow 'wrong.' Judging that fashion is not a truly worthwhile endeavor, even as a hobby.
I sense my decisions shouldn't be about judgment, but should - no could - be based on conscious decisions I make about what I want my days to look and feel like. And that's a bit of what happened this morning. I chose to sit by my son as he uploaded his pics, not knowing beforehand that would lead to conversation, but grateful for it. I chose to give him a ride without much notice and let whatever the rest of the day could look like wait.
These judgments lead me back to my childhood. I loved to dance and sing - wanted to be an actress - but then high school happened and I was smart and everyone said go into engineering, you'll make lots of money. So I started on that path, and switched to the 'safe' degree of history after a year because it gave me options - and I hated engineering. I repeated that pattern as the kids got into school. I had just finished my first community theater show after a 12 year break, had even started commercial work, and what did I do? Woke up one morning and signed up for grad school. Guess some habits die hard.
Where did these messages come from? Maybe from having a dysfunctional type 4 stepfather, who grounded me if I got Bs on my report card. School and good grades were my safety net. Or maybe from having a later single working mother, who did her best, but I knew college would be very difficult to pay for if I didn't have the grades to get scholarships. Oh ye of little faith! Turns out the government ended up paying for every dime as my birth father had been killed in the military.
There were other messages, too. Don't be too happy or excited for your accomplishments, it will sound like bragging. No matter how much you might know, there is nothing like common sense. The last one was my own message to myself, I always envied people with common sense. I felt I had so little, though people seemed to put me in positions of authority.
Play down compliments on your appearance. That one came from several events, not the least of which was inappropriate comments from a teenage boy when I was just a young girl. Thank goodness it never went further than that. My extended family told me he wasn't quite right in the head. Sheesh. (That last bit was really hard to write. I don't say that for sympathy, though goodness knows what women go through growing up can be life altering. Only to use it as a an example in teaching.)
So we're not alone in this, are we ladies? And maybe knowing one's energy type is just another box for me. But I'm not going to apologize for the idea of it, especially about being aware of one's gifts to the world. I'd like to use it as a reference point for growth and added quality to my life.
Thursday, July 18, 2013
Morning
Today is off the cuff. Today is unedited. Like so many of my days lately, it seems ...
I awake each morning, in more of a fog than I experienced a year ago. Or maybe it's because I'm in a new bed, sleeping with DH again. His bed is not nearly as comfortable as the double in the other room. Silly bed - we bought it to help sell our old home. It will go in the guest bedroom in the new place.
I lay there, trying to decide whether to slip back into sleep (I'm talented at that, especially anytime after 9 in the morning ...), or to get up. I decide to let my body relax, then make the decision. Hubs is getting ready to go to a work party with my son. He is always so patient with me in the mornings. We both struggle with sleep, he gets it. I am patient with him as well.
I feel my lips relax first. Over the past few days, I've been doing my TMJ exercises again, clucking my tongue whenever I think about it, and it seems to be helping. I can feel the confusion in the muscles as they search to find a new normal.
I consciously seek for the same feeling in my limbs. Just let it all go. Enjoy that relaxed feeling, even for a moment ... feel it, memorize it, it's what you're going for. The body will get there, if you are consistent with your exercises, I tell myself.
I feel I live half a life. Some nights I fall asleep by midnight, other nights, like last night, it's easily 4 or 5 a.m.. Very little rhyme or rhythm. I wonder if my body is only mirroring the way I run my days. Would things change if I showered first, no matter how I was feeling? Turned off all electronics by 9 p.m.? The beginning and end of days can set the tone, I know. But I'm not sure ... I feel my body is more in control of my schedule than I am. Silly body.
I remember my aunt, who also struggles with health issues. She says she has been getting up and vocalizing her blessings upon arising, out loud, even the simplest things. Because some days, even accomplishing simple things is a tremendous blessing. I think of our dear neighbor, who recently lost half his foot in a motorcycle accident. Truly, I have much to be grateful for. Though I've said this before - Suffering is not a contest.
I want to respond to my trials in an honourable way. I want to serve, and some days, like my aunt, I remind myself out loud how the various acts I do can be considered service, both for myself and others.
Could I seek the Lord's will more fully? Yes, the voice whispers. Be ready for the day, however you can. Then see where it takes you. I will lead you, will you follow?
One day at a time.
I awake each morning, in more of a fog than I experienced a year ago. Or maybe it's because I'm in a new bed, sleeping with DH again. His bed is not nearly as comfortable as the double in the other room. Silly bed - we bought it to help sell our old home. It will go in the guest bedroom in the new place.
I lay there, trying to decide whether to slip back into sleep (I'm talented at that, especially anytime after 9 in the morning ...), or to get up. I decide to let my body relax, then make the decision. Hubs is getting ready to go to a work party with my son. He is always so patient with me in the mornings. We both struggle with sleep, he gets it. I am patient with him as well.
I feel my lips relax first. Over the past few days, I've been doing my TMJ exercises again, clucking my tongue whenever I think about it, and it seems to be helping. I can feel the confusion in the muscles as they search to find a new normal.
I consciously seek for the same feeling in my limbs. Just let it all go. Enjoy that relaxed feeling, even for a moment ... feel it, memorize it, it's what you're going for. The body will get there, if you are consistent with your exercises, I tell myself.
I feel I live half a life. Some nights I fall asleep by midnight, other nights, like last night, it's easily 4 or 5 a.m.. Very little rhyme or rhythm. I wonder if my body is only mirroring the way I run my days. Would things change if I showered first, no matter how I was feeling? Turned off all electronics by 9 p.m.? The beginning and end of days can set the tone, I know. But I'm not sure ... I feel my body is more in control of my schedule than I am. Silly body.
I remember my aunt, who also struggles with health issues. She says she has been getting up and vocalizing her blessings upon arising, out loud, even the simplest things. Because some days, even accomplishing simple things is a tremendous blessing. I think of our dear neighbor, who recently lost half his foot in a motorcycle accident. Truly, I have much to be grateful for. Though I've said this before - Suffering is not a contest.
I want to respond to my trials in an honourable way. I want to serve, and some days, like my aunt, I remind myself out loud how the various acts I do can be considered service, both for myself and others.
Could I seek the Lord's will more fully? Yes, the voice whispers. Be ready for the day, however you can. Then see where it takes you. I will lead you, will you follow?
One day at a time.
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Why I Married Your Dad
This one is for my kids. On this Valentine's Day, I want to honour my husband. So, guys, here goes.
When your dad and I met, we were attending the same congregation. He asked me out shortly after I was baptized, but I had another date that week-end, so we didn't get to go out. I remember he wanted to take me to the symphony (big surprise there, ay?). And I thought what a novel idea ... I'd never had anyone ask me to the symphony for a date!
Well, having turned him down, he didn't ask me out again for awhile. I started dating another guy, that was part of the reason. He can tell you more about that phase of our 'not dating yet.'
Then one Sunday, while sitting in Sunday school, your dad made a comment during the lesson. It was a really good comment, too! My girlfriend sitting next to me said, "Wow, I could marry a man like that." So, that was when I first noticed your father. And that brings me to the first and most important thing that attracted me to him ... his spirituality and testimony. I appreciate so much that we can share and talk about our spirituality together. And I learn so much from him. When we read the scriptures together, he doesn't always talk about his thoughts much. But when we do have talk time, mostly in the mornings, he often shares with me insights he is gaining from the scriptures. And he knows that God exists, and that He loves us.
The second thing that attracted me to your dad was his gentle nature. I remember sitting in church another Sunday, and he was holding a friend's little two year old girl on his lap. He was so sweet with her, the quiet way he talked to her and played. Very, very gentle. He could also tease when he wanted to, as you guys well know, but it was always good natured.
Our first date together, we went to a show and then out to dinner with a group of friends. Threadgills in Austin! Yummy. Well, I managed to lock myself out of my condo and Bridget was gone for the night, I think. I had no key and nowhere to go. So your dad just rolled with the punches. He was living with like four other guys at the time - all very fun - and we just sat up talking with them. I kept apologizing for having to stay so long, but I don't think your dad really minded ;-). Your dad also got out a couple of scrapbooks he had and that was fun, looking at the pics. I think finally he drove me out to Nana's and I spent the night there. Or maybe Bridget came home? It was like 2 a.m. or so.
Your dad was looked upon as quite the catch in our ward. He always looked so nice, usually coming from work to ward functions. And you all know, he plays the piano beautifully. That was really nice. He used to ask me to turn the music pages for him when he played in church. Oh, that was quite exciting for two young people developing feelings for each other. Which brings me to another thing I admired about your dad.
His dedication to treating me well. He treated me like a lady when it came to kissing and such, and I appreciated that. As you guys know my standards there, I hope you will understand I am talking about MY standards in that area, and not trying to be judgmental of others' standards. But it did mean a lot to me that he was so respectful of me in a moral way during our dating period.
Another reason your dad was considered a catch was probably because he had a steady job - remember, we were in a student ward, lol! He enjoyed his work and the people he worked with. Supporting his family has always been so important to him. I appreciate that he is willing to fulfill that responsibility. It's meant even more to me as I have become ill and can't help out financially the way I used to, but you know what? We are happy and life is so much less stressful than it was. I am looking forward to ways I can spoil him more at home beyond keeping the house neat and fixing meals. It wasn't until I worked full time that I realized how stressful holding down a job can be at times and how much he needs and deserves for home to be more of a haven for him, a place where he can be appreciated and relax.
Finally, I'll throw this in - the girls in our ward thought your dad had the cutest grin. And he does. Have you noticed how one side of his mouth will curl up when he is tickled about something? Darling oldest son, you have this same trait. I noticed it in you when you were just a few days old. So did Grandma.
I just admire your dad so much. I appreciate him more and more with each passing day. I wish I had always shown him the compassionate kindness he so embodies ... but we weathered whatever tough times and I'm so glad to call your dad my Valentine.
When your dad and I met, we were attending the same congregation. He asked me out shortly after I was baptized, but I had another date that week-end, so we didn't get to go out. I remember he wanted to take me to the symphony (big surprise there, ay?). And I thought what a novel idea ... I'd never had anyone ask me to the symphony for a date!
Well, having turned him down, he didn't ask me out again for awhile. I started dating another guy, that was part of the reason. He can tell you more about that phase of our 'not dating yet.'
Then one Sunday, while sitting in Sunday school, your dad made a comment during the lesson. It was a really good comment, too! My girlfriend sitting next to me said, "Wow, I could marry a man like that." So, that was when I first noticed your father. And that brings me to the first and most important thing that attracted me to him ... his spirituality and testimony. I appreciate so much that we can share and talk about our spirituality together. And I learn so much from him. When we read the scriptures together, he doesn't always talk about his thoughts much. But when we do have talk time, mostly in the mornings, he often shares with me insights he is gaining from the scriptures. And he knows that God exists, and that He loves us.
The second thing that attracted me to your dad was his gentle nature. I remember sitting in church another Sunday, and he was holding a friend's little two year old girl on his lap. He was so sweet with her, the quiet way he talked to her and played. Very, very gentle. He could also tease when he wanted to, as you guys well know, but it was always good natured.
Our first date together, we went to a show and then out to dinner with a group of friends. Threadgills in Austin! Yummy. Well, I managed to lock myself out of my condo and Bridget was gone for the night, I think. I had no key and nowhere to go. So your dad just rolled with the punches. He was living with like four other guys at the time - all very fun - and we just sat up talking with them. I kept apologizing for having to stay so long, but I don't think your dad really minded ;-). Your dad also got out a couple of scrapbooks he had and that was fun, looking at the pics. I think finally he drove me out to Nana's and I spent the night there. Or maybe Bridget came home? It was like 2 a.m. or so.
Your dad was looked upon as quite the catch in our ward. He always looked so nice, usually coming from work to ward functions. And you all know, he plays the piano beautifully. That was really nice. He used to ask me to turn the music pages for him when he played in church. Oh, that was quite exciting for two young people developing feelings for each other. Which brings me to another thing I admired about your dad.
His dedication to treating me well. He treated me like a lady when it came to kissing and such, and I appreciated that. As you guys know my standards there, I hope you will understand I am talking about MY standards in that area, and not trying to be judgmental of others' standards. But it did mean a lot to me that he was so respectful of me in a moral way during our dating period.
Another reason your dad was considered a catch was probably because he had a steady job - remember, we were in a student ward, lol! He enjoyed his work and the people he worked with. Supporting his family has always been so important to him. I appreciate that he is willing to fulfill that responsibility. It's meant even more to me as I have become ill and can't help out financially the way I used to, but you know what? We are happy and life is so much less stressful than it was. I am looking forward to ways I can spoil him more at home beyond keeping the house neat and fixing meals. It wasn't until I worked full time that I realized how stressful holding down a job can be at times and how much he needs and deserves for home to be more of a haven for him, a place where he can be appreciated and relax.
Finally, I'll throw this in - the girls in our ward thought your dad had the cutest grin. And he does. Have you noticed how one side of his mouth will curl up when he is tickled about something? Darling oldest son, you have this same trait. I noticed it in you when you were just a few days old. So did Grandma.
I just admire your dad so much. I appreciate him more and more with each passing day. I wish I had always shown him the compassionate kindness he so embodies ... but we weathered whatever tough times and I'm so glad to call your dad my Valentine.
Friday, January 11, 2013
A Winter's Night
I knew the storm was coming. Not for the usual reason - my body going into a sure, slow nosedive - though there was a bit of that sensation as well. This time, husband informed me before it arrived, as we discussed the weather in Salt Lake City vs. Laguna, California, where I had just been vacationing with my youngest son.
I had been out running errands and to the gym. I knew as the flakes continued falling that all I would be getting at Costco was gas. Time to head home before the storm, before the traffic, before dinner time.
No one is home as I slide open our back door. My body relaxes. I don't know why I love coming home to an empty house. Maybe it has something to do with so many years of a full house and feeling overly responsible for everything and everyone in it. Don't get me wrong, I loved hearing the sounds of children as mine were growing up. I realize in hindsight that I didn't have to make or take things as seriously as I did. But anyhow, I appreciate this season in my life where the demands have relaxed, at least for now. And I'll take responsibility for that frame of mind, as well ;-).
Hmmm, what to do first. Laundry, that is always good to start with. Love the smell of the fabric softener (lavender), and I take an extra whiff as I pour it into the dispenser. Then, the feel of warm towels fresh from the dryer. I fold them happily as I chat on the phone with darling daughter for a few.
What next? Not sure what time the hubs will be home, so I decide to straighten up a few hot spots. Christmas cards? Removed and recycled. I decide to save a few with pics of my extended family, family I am lucky to see every 3-4 years. I tape these cards to the fridge. I save one from a friend - a new friend, one I have made this year. The handwritten note on the back makes me smile. I decide to use it as a bookmark. Incoming mail? My, when did that basket get so full?! Okay, we'll deal with that a little at a time. No need to knock myself out here. Cleaning house should feel, well ... cleansing! And it does.
Though the Christmas cards are purged, I decide to leave up our Christmas wreath which hangs above our front hall table. It's probably a fire hazard by now, but as it is nowhere near a fireplace or heat source, I decide to spare it's life for a few more days.
I light a candle and fix myself some hot cocoa. The candle is one I received for Christmas, rosemary eucalyptus scent. It reminds me of the pleasant afternoon darling son and I spent just a few weeks ago, picking out a candle for his girlfriend's Christmas present. He liked this same scent, but chose a more expensive one for his gal. Darling husband went back that afternoon, just before Christmas Eve, and bought me this one. It's fragrance dovetails nicely with the lavender.
What else might I do so the home will seem more pleasant before darling husband gets home from work? Dinner for him is taken care of. I notice the piles on the living room coffee table. I'll get to that. First, to continue with the fragrant adventures. I decide to sweep and mop the kitchen floor. Rosemary scented cleaner for that job. It has a bit of bite to it that tickles the senses but doesn't overwhelm. The chore is done in about five minutes or so. I even take the time to scrub a few stubborn spots.
I continue with taking out the recycling. The trash and recycling cans are on the other side of the carport of the rental we currently live in, so I have to go outside and walk up the drive to do this. I slide open the door, and fresh, cold, clean air flushes my cheeks. Drifts of freshly fallen snow, soft and deep, surround our patio. I am surprised and delighted by the sensation of newness that accompanies the falling snowflakes.
Wonder presents itself. It's a pleasant feeling.
Careful of my inherently weak joints, I set down the two bags of paper to be recycled and begin shoveling a very narrow path to the drive. Only eight feet or so long. I try not to injure myself - I rarely know for sure in the moment if I am doing so with tasks like this, so I tend to leave them to someone else - but I am careful and think I am okay.
My, but the snow and air and night sky are beautiful. I can see the city lights below to one side, softly lit, making them look further away than they are. Everything off in the valley seems ... surreal.
Everything close to me is soft and fresh at the same time.
I breathe in as I walk to and from the recycling bin. I marvel at the beauty around me. I carefully make my way back to the house. And I realize that in these simple things, there is great peace. God feels near.
I had been out running errands and to the gym. I knew as the flakes continued falling that all I would be getting at Costco was gas. Time to head home before the storm, before the traffic, before dinner time.
No one is home as I slide open our back door. My body relaxes. I don't know why I love coming home to an empty house. Maybe it has something to do with so many years of a full house and feeling overly responsible for everything and everyone in it. Don't get me wrong, I loved hearing the sounds of children as mine were growing up. I realize in hindsight that I didn't have to make or take things as seriously as I did. But anyhow, I appreciate this season in my life where the demands have relaxed, at least for now. And I'll take responsibility for that frame of mind, as well ;-).
Hmmm, what to do first. Laundry, that is always good to start with. Love the smell of the fabric softener (lavender), and I take an extra whiff as I pour it into the dispenser. Then, the feel of warm towels fresh from the dryer. I fold them happily as I chat on the phone with darling daughter for a few.
What next? Not sure what time the hubs will be home, so I decide to straighten up a few hot spots. Christmas cards? Removed and recycled. I decide to save a few with pics of my extended family, family I am lucky to see every 3-4 years. I tape these cards to the fridge. I save one from a friend - a new friend, one I have made this year. The handwritten note on the back makes me smile. I decide to use it as a bookmark. Incoming mail? My, when did that basket get so full?! Okay, we'll deal with that a little at a time. No need to knock myself out here. Cleaning house should feel, well ... cleansing! And it does.
Though the Christmas cards are purged, I decide to leave up our Christmas wreath which hangs above our front hall table. It's probably a fire hazard by now, but as it is nowhere near a fireplace or heat source, I decide to spare it's life for a few more days.
I light a candle and fix myself some hot cocoa. The candle is one I received for Christmas, rosemary eucalyptus scent. It reminds me of the pleasant afternoon darling son and I spent just a few weeks ago, picking out a candle for his girlfriend's Christmas present. He liked this same scent, but chose a more expensive one for his gal. Darling husband went back that afternoon, just before Christmas Eve, and bought me this one. It's fragrance dovetails nicely with the lavender.
What else might I do so the home will seem more pleasant before darling husband gets home from work? Dinner for him is taken care of. I notice the piles on the living room coffee table. I'll get to that. First, to continue with the fragrant adventures. I decide to sweep and mop the kitchen floor. Rosemary scented cleaner for that job. It has a bit of bite to it that tickles the senses but doesn't overwhelm. The chore is done in about five minutes or so. I even take the time to scrub a few stubborn spots.
I continue with taking out the recycling. The trash and recycling cans are on the other side of the carport of the rental we currently live in, so I have to go outside and walk up the drive to do this. I slide open the door, and fresh, cold, clean air flushes my cheeks. Drifts of freshly fallen snow, soft and deep, surround our patio. I am surprised and delighted by the sensation of newness that accompanies the falling snowflakes.
Wonder presents itself. It's a pleasant feeling.
Careful of my inherently weak joints, I set down the two bags of paper to be recycled and begin shoveling a very narrow path to the drive. Only eight feet or so long. I try not to injure myself - I rarely know for sure in the moment if I am doing so with tasks like this, so I tend to leave them to someone else - but I am careful and think I am okay.
My, but the snow and air and night sky are beautiful. I can see the city lights below to one side, softly lit, making them look further away than they are. Everything off in the valley seems ... surreal.
Everything close to me is soft and fresh at the same time.
I breathe in as I walk to and from the recycling bin. I marvel at the beauty around me. I carefully make my way back to the house. And I realize that in these simple things, there is great peace. God feels near.
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
New Year's Day Musings for 2013
It's that time. A time of reflection. A time of setting goals. New Year's Resolutions, we call them.
I like to think instead in terms of establishing habits. Not that I don't find goals extremely useful. But habits, to me, establish a way of being. I think these quotes will be far more eloquent than I could ever be in describing the process I mean:
1. Excellence is not a singular act, but a habit. You are what you repeatedly do. -Shaquille ONeal
2. First we make our habits, then our habits make us. -Charles C. Noble5.
3. We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit ... Quality is not an act, it is a habit. -Aristotle
4. Motivation is what gets you started. Habit is what keeps you going. -Jim Rohn
I like all of these quotes for different reasons. But at the heart of each is the symbiotic relationship between being and doing. What we do shapes us - our being - just as the desire to be something can shape our actions - the doing.
This past year, I had the opportunity to share a week with a dear, life-long friend. The kind of friend that during conversations the synapses in the brain can hardly keep up with the pace of the ideas. Well, he brought a wonderful notion to my attention. He said, "Ponder the sentence, 'I choose to be effective at (fill in the blank.)'" Wow. I was hooked.
Then he moved to the question of, IF I am effective at (fill in the blank), what is in the room with me?
Metaphorical to be sure, but then, that is how I roll much of the time. I wear my English minor proudly ;-). Basically, it means, how would I think, feel, and do?
I pondered these questions more deeply while flying home from that trip. It was nice to pull out my little purse-sized notebook and let the thoughts just come. I'd like to share a bit of what I wrote, by way of example, for how this process might look. If it sounds a bit, well, metaphorical. Or esoteric. I can be guilty of both.
Phase One: "I choose to be effective at ______." Hmmm, what did I wish to be effective at? What did I want more of in my life? To greet each day new, without being weighed down by the past, a lifetime of memories crowding in on me, threatening to intrude. To greet relationships in the same way.
I wanted to be more effective at staying in the moment. No, I wanted to be more effective at trusting the moment. Allowing time for feasting on each precious second, and allowing for play. Doing more with friends and family.
Being myself without judging myself. Trusting myself to know when judgment is necessary and useful.
"I choose to be effective at" acting in and from the repository of everyone's goodness, including my own. (Already I could see myself getting outside myself more with this one ...) I desired the freedom to speak my truth, speaking as I chose. Not being pulled back into a lifetime of ways of being that were less than effective. Less than effective than what? I wasn't sure. Remember, this was all stream of consciousness. The flow continued.
Not being less than. No one being less than.
Using my boldness to connect and uplift. No fear.
"I choose to be effective at" ... not caring what other people think.
Bam. That was it. That was the phrase I wanted to work with.
Phase Two: If I felt effective at not caring what other people thought of me, then what was in the room with me?
Laughter. Music. Silence.
Banter. Fewer boundaries, because I don't need them. (Oh, wow, that last one hit me like a ton of bricks. As a recovering codependent, I've been counseled the importance of boundaries. But somehow, these boundaries were of a different color.)
What else was in the room with me?
Me.
Enough.
Others doing. Me asking. Me listening.
Being okay with being separate from others, but still interactive.
Free gifts being given, such as spontaneity, hugs, touching. And on and on ...
So, I return to the beginning. This notion of ways of being and habits. I'd like to practice this habitual thought pattern, "I choose to be effective at (fill in the blank)." My guess is the 'fill in the blank' will change over time. I would expect it to, as one grows and needs change. That's okay.
But for January, I will choose something. It may be a way of being, a feeling, perhaps even desiring to be a certain way with a certain person. Going off of my last post, it could even be, "I choose to be effective at waking each day full of faith." I am not worried about how to accomplish the goal. Just having the thought will lead me to desired core feelings (Danielle LaPorte) and the actions necessary to get there. "What is in the room with me?" Ah, what feeling and actions today will demonstrate my faith in God, my faith in my fellow man, my faith in myself? Keep it simple. Remember habits of being need time. They are flexible. They are suited to the individual.
And they can change us. Ah, just think what an adventure that would be.
I like to think instead in terms of establishing habits. Not that I don't find goals extremely useful. But habits, to me, establish a way of being. I think these quotes will be far more eloquent than I could ever be in describing the process I mean:
1. Excellence is not a singular act, but a habit. You are what you repeatedly do. -Shaquille ONeal
2. First we make our habits, then our habits make us. -Charles C. Noble5.
3. We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit ... Quality is not an act, it is a habit. -Aristotle
4. Motivation is what gets you started. Habit is what keeps you going. -Jim Rohn
I like all of these quotes for different reasons. But at the heart of each is the symbiotic relationship between being and doing. What we do shapes us - our being - just as the desire to be something can shape our actions - the doing.
This past year, I had the opportunity to share a week with a dear, life-long friend. The kind of friend that during conversations the synapses in the brain can hardly keep up with the pace of the ideas. Well, he brought a wonderful notion to my attention. He said, "Ponder the sentence, 'I choose to be effective at (fill in the blank.)'" Wow. I was hooked.
Then he moved to the question of, IF I am effective at (fill in the blank), what is in the room with me?
Metaphorical to be sure, but then, that is how I roll much of the time. I wear my English minor proudly ;-). Basically, it means, how would I think, feel, and do?
I pondered these questions more deeply while flying home from that trip. It was nice to pull out my little purse-sized notebook and let the thoughts just come. I'd like to share a bit of what I wrote, by way of example, for how this process might look. If it sounds a bit, well, metaphorical. Or esoteric. I can be guilty of both.
Phase One: "I choose to be effective at ______." Hmmm, what did I wish to be effective at? What did I want more of in my life? To greet each day new, without being weighed down by the past, a lifetime of memories crowding in on me, threatening to intrude. To greet relationships in the same way.
I wanted to be more effective at staying in the moment. No, I wanted to be more effective at trusting the moment. Allowing time for feasting on each precious second, and allowing for play. Doing more with friends and family.
Being myself without judging myself. Trusting myself to know when judgment is necessary and useful.
"I choose to be effective at" acting in and from the repository of everyone's goodness, including my own. (Already I could see myself getting outside myself more with this one ...) I desired the freedom to speak my truth, speaking as I chose. Not being pulled back into a lifetime of ways of being that were less than effective. Less than effective than what? I wasn't sure. Remember, this was all stream of consciousness. The flow continued.
Not being less than. No one being less than.
Using my boldness to connect and uplift. No fear.
"I choose to be effective at" ... not caring what other people think.
Bam. That was it. That was the phrase I wanted to work with.
Phase Two: If I felt effective at not caring what other people thought of me, then what was in the room with me?
Laughter. Music. Silence.
Banter. Fewer boundaries, because I don't need them. (Oh, wow, that last one hit me like a ton of bricks. As a recovering codependent, I've been counseled the importance of boundaries. But somehow, these boundaries were of a different color.)
What else was in the room with me?
Me.
Enough.
Others doing. Me asking. Me listening.
Being okay with being separate from others, but still interactive.
Free gifts being given, such as spontaneity, hugs, touching. And on and on ...
So, I return to the beginning. This notion of ways of being and habits. I'd like to practice this habitual thought pattern, "I choose to be effective at (fill in the blank)." My guess is the 'fill in the blank' will change over time. I would expect it to, as one grows and needs change. That's okay.
But for January, I will choose something. It may be a way of being, a feeling, perhaps even desiring to be a certain way with a certain person. Going off of my last post, it could even be, "I choose to be effective at waking each day full of faith." I am not worried about how to accomplish the goal. Just having the thought will lead me to desired core feelings (Danielle LaPorte) and the actions necessary to get there. "What is in the room with me?" Ah, what feeling and actions today will demonstrate my faith in God, my faith in my fellow man, my faith in myself? Keep it simple. Remember habits of being need time. They are flexible. They are suited to the individual.
And they can change us. Ah, just think what an adventure that would be.
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