Childish perceptions can be Tenacious

I had a great c25k run with my daughter on Friday, as I wrote about here. When I got home, I felt energized, empowered, enlivened, and excited. Two hours later, the most painful sore throat ever descended on me. Boom. I couldn't even sleep Friday night because of the pain. Saturday, the CNP, she of "hon" predilection, prescribed a med and then said I'd be feeling much better in 24 hrs and back to normal in 48.

My literal mind took note of the time frames. By 24 hours, I was just as bad and that was bad. By 48, I was on my way to see my actual doctor because I was in agony by now. And I had no answers, never a happy thing when I'm in pain. 

Some of our early life lessons, when they conflate scary stuff about eternity with the developmental phase of learning to trust, well, that shit gets buried deep. Like deep enough that even after leaving that religious faith and finding tremendous joy in letting go, something like an unexplained sore throat can be a trigger.

On the way to the doctor, I ....... ACTUALLY .......  entertained the idea that one of those early life lessons might have validity; namely, that because I have walked away from the religion of my childhood, god was going to just go ahead and kill me to teach me a lesson. Death by sore throat!

See, we knew this woman who divorced her husband, and sometime not long after, she died in her sleep. She was really young. It was reported to me that the cause of death was at least in part god taking her life because she was so selfish (said the pastor at the funeral). I had already internalized that I was NOT to love anything or anyone more than god. That's the clear message of Luke 14:26  (If any man come to Me and hate not his father and mother, and wife and children, and brethren and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be My disciple." That's the King James version, one I abandoned at least 30 years ago, but the version I read as a child.) (Remember what I said about having a brain that takes things literally,)

Basically, the larger lesson was that god was on the lookout for my screw-ups, and once detected, I was TOAST.

Thankfully (!) it only took a couple minutes for my rational mind to reassert itself and point out that everything was very likely going to be just fine. Sure enough, a second med was prescribed to address a different aspect of the sort throat, and after one dose, I began to feel noticeably better. However long it takes me to fully recover, I'm pretty sure this isn't happening because I'm in trouble with the big kahuna.

How about you? Are there things you were taught early in life that are unwelcome intruders?

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This Post Could be Called "What to Do When Overwhelmed"

image from apple.developer.com

The internet is a dripping, sopping sponge, absolutely saturated with how-to posts of every race, creed, and culture; of every hue, stripe, and color; of every language, viewpoint, and persuasion. These posts are well-written, clever, practical, logical, researched, and compelling.

Ironically, how-to posts proliferate even when the problem is "overwhelm." They're right there, offering their numbered lists, bullet points, and step-by-step guidance.

Today I am overwhelmed by the number of projects started but not finished, the sheer volume of stuff I have to care for and about, and the ongoing tasks that never feel complete.

A quick google of "how to deal with feeling overwhelmed" yields the following tips out of the 14,200,000 results offered. Overwhelm comes from

• high expectations, 
• taking on too much, 
• putting pressure on self, 
• being a perfectionist, 
• needing too much control, 
• and being an overachiever. 

In just one article, here are eight ways to overcome the feeling:

• step away from the overwhelm; 
• move, go for a walk, go get a coffee, 
• go sit in another chair; 
• answer the question what is the most important thing; 
• write things down and don't worry about margins, spelling or orderliness; 
• give up control; 
• ask for help; 
• create boundaries; 
• turn off the tv and computer; and 
• make yourself a nice bedtime ritual.

Another article suggests these strategies:

• accept the feeling of overwhelm, 
• change or reframe overwhelm inducing thoughts, 
• change your multitasking mindset; 
• focus on right now, 
• take a deep breath, and 
• take action.

But sometimes, being in a place of overwhelm comes from persistent habits of incompletion, procrastination, fear of making decisions, unending interruptions, depression, and "too much" being just as objective as it is subjective. Maybe these ubiquitous lists are really just taking up more  space, becoming something else I choose to pay attention to, and aren't even close to being the solution for me.

I'm not really sure what the solution is, to be honest. Life seems more and more complicated to me all the time, despite my not having to go outside our home to a job, despite three of my five children being adults who live elsewhere, despite years of simplifying and decluttering. This perception is what clues me in that this issue may be more deeply seated than going to sit in a different chair or creating a bedtime ritual.

Thankfully, I do have what I need to figure this out. It may be in the two-steps-forward-three-steps-back type format, and for sure it is going to be ongoing, for there are many steps that need to be taken. Probably the first step today, right now, is this blog. Taking the time to put down on "paper" these thoughts. Finding the space in my day, persisting through the interruptions and the external sensory stimulation. Allowing the natural incomplete status of many of the things I am responsible for. Letting go of the need to control so much. Being willing to just take whatever the next step is.

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A Little Kepler Story

I dragged myself to the grocery store little clinic yesterday where I was given the good news that I don't have the flu, but the less good news that I have strep throat.

The young nurse practitioner's white coat was near bursting its buttons. Made me wonder if she had gained weight since she proudly received her coat embroidered with her name and CNP. She called me hon, over and over.

So, today, day three of the illness, my best nurse had to leave on a jet plane. I'm on my own. Kepler is here and my 16yo daughter is here, but she is sleeping hard, having been at a show choir comp this weekend. She'll surface eventually.

Kepler may be 9, and he may have been born with Down syndrome, but he's a wonderful person to have around when you're sick.

He came in a few minutes ago and sang me an original song:

Go seep
You're sweet
Mom and Kepler
Heart

I feel better already.

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Love, Grace, Gratitude

Clad in exercise togs, the couple entered the pancake restaurant. The wife led. The husband followed, holding the door. Both looked to be late 40's or early 50's. The man remarked about the oversized photograph of the restaurant's specialty, the Dutch baby. The couple were drawn back into memories of baking Dutch babies together in their newlywed basement apartment.

The wife remarked she hadn't been to the restaurant for years. She had last visited with her father, gone for five years last month. Both fondly remembered how the older man had loved his pancakes.

The hostess stood behind a small counter where a cash register took up half the counter. Partially completed sudoku games from the newspaper littered the counter, evidence of the eager mind she kept busy between customers. She smiled at the couple and took them to an exposed table. Could we sit in one of those tiny booths, the man said, voicing the thoughts of both husband and wife.

I love your ear buds, the hostess exclaimed. The woman was pleased. The hostess reached for them to sample the floral fabric which covered the headphones. The hostess placed the menus and took the shortest path through the restaurant tables, back to her counter, back to her sudoku.

Although the couple appeared to have come into the restaurant for a post-exercise refuel, the truth was that the exercise session had been abruptly cancelled when something was said in the car that took the wife's breath away, and not in a good way.

The menus lay untouched as the couple delved into the thorny job of untangling the emotions and hurt that were just below the surface. Several minutes later, they were able to order and continued to discuss the issue that has arisen.

Real love was evident between the two, with her tears, his open face, their apologies. In awhile, coffee cups drained, pancakes and omelets consumed, they rose to leave the restaurant. The sudoku girl was friendly as she asked if everything was alright. Yes, they replied.

She said again, I love your ear buds. The woman pulled a small change-purse sized bag, made of the identical fabric the young woman had admired on the headphones. She opened the small purse and pulled out a pair of brand-new ear buds that matched the headphones. I have these as well, said she. Ooh and ahh, said the hostess.

Do you like them, the wife asked? Yes, she replied. May I give them to you, asked the wife? The hostess's face opened in surprise and joy, yes! The wife closed the small purse and handed them to the hostess, who was clearly excited. I've been wanting to get a new pair of ear buds ... what's your name ... I'll think of you every time I wear them ... I wear ear buds when I ski ... I love to ski.

The husband and wife headed to the door, lighter in many ways. The man leaned close. I knew, he said quietly, that you were going to give those to her. They walked out as he held the door for her, even after all these years, and both were completely transformed by love, grace, gratitude.

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How Much Will You Grow Today?

image created by siouxsie

A blade of grass will grow a day's growth in a day's time.  

Almost three and half months ago, my sister sent me a link to a talk by a man named Father Joseph Martin. It's called Recovery and the Family. This beautiful man died in 2009. Read his NY Times obit here.

Today, after acting on the advice I gave myself yesterday (Keep it Scientific, Sweetie!) by going for a run with my daughter (via iPhone!), I found myself with a transformed mindset. I woke this morning, as I often do, from a disturbing dream and was feeling depressed. After my run, I was energized, not just from the physical exertion, but from the stimulating conversation with my daughter.

Feeling thus armed with enthusiasm and resolve, I attacked my email inbox. It has been many months since I could claim inbox zero, and I wanted to at least move in that direction. The oldest email in my inbox was the talk by Father Martin.

My beloved son is in recovery, which means that our entire family is in recovery. This speech has been nagging at me to listen to is. But it is 78 minutes long. Aargh! Who has 78 minutes to listen to a speech? That's not really the question, is it. The question is, who will take 78 minutes to listen to a speech? The answer is, ME. Many things Father Martin said spoke to me deeply, but the first one was his statement about the blade of grass.

If a blade of grass will grow a day's growth in a day's time, and I'm the blade of grass, I must use each precious minute of the day to effect that growth as well as I can. 

My blade of grass illustration above took me about 45 minutes to complete. I don't claim to be an artist, and using the bamboo pad is difficult for me as a left-handed writer. But I wanted to create something, even if it's rudimentary. So, I present to you the gift of my first self-created electronic image. Go, grass, GROW today! Grow this day's growth in this day's time.

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Keep it Scientific, Sweetie (The OTHER KISS Principle)

Stress is always with us.

Fellow blogger, K.G. Heath posted recently about STRESS. KG had three excellent points about changing our attitude and circumstances to address stressful situations. Honestly, I have found significant success in changing my attitude about many stressful situations.

I'm in one situation, however, that continues to elude the peace that comes from attitude adjustments. For this situation, what I sometimes find even more helpful is the hard work of physical exercise and weight lifting.

Exercise and Stress

WebMD's page on exercise indicates that physical exertion creates endorphins in the brain that are proven to trigger a positive feeling in the body. Source after source lists the considerable benefits from exercise, from the "runner's high" that comes from jogging, to the simple changes in attitude that come from the tiniest bit of exercise, even walking into another room. There must be literally hundreds or thousands of books and websites that address the subjects of stress and exercise.

When I went to see my personal trainer, Joe Policastro, this morning at his business StrongFit, I was in an anxious state owing to circumstances I cannot control and seemingly cannot even influence. After lunges, goblet squats, presses, leg raises, and 2000 meters of rowing, I felt much more positive about the situation, even though not one single thing about it had changed. The only thing that had changed was me.

The Benefits of Facts to support Experience

The recent internet discussions about vaccinations are a good example of the fact that FACTS very often do not change peoples' minds. The facts about exercise are often not enough to convince someone to get moving. I think the facts are extra helpful when our experience shows us something like the benefits of exercise and we can then see the scientific why behind those benefits.

Feeling stressed? Work on the attitude, and then give exercise a KISS.

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Will You Die in Quicksand today?

I was a sheltered child.

image from www.createbrand.ru

I carried an umbrella inside a lean-to, within a bomb shelter, surrounded by a castle fortress, guarded by a moat filled with ravenous alligators, and I had the Sword of the Lord by my side.

I was carefully sheltered from racy television shows such as Happy Days and the Dick van Dyke show. Of course, we watched Emergency! religiously every week so my off-the-charts fear levels were amped up every week, 500cc of wringers lactate notwithstanding.  It is a wonder I made it out of childhood intact in any way, shape, or form.

The natural world was also presented as a terrifying place. Fish bones could easily choke and kill you. Creeks contain holes you can inadvertently step in and instantly drown. And everybody said there was quicksand in the creek next to my house.

(Apparently the 60s was a decade when there was a popular tv trope wherein people would sink in quicksand. The more they struggled, the deeper they sank.)

In spite of all this sheltering, somehow, under my umbrella, in my lean-to, in the bomb shelter, in the fortress, behind the line of hungry hungry alligators, with Sword of the Lord at my side, I saw a depiction of this deadly quicksand on some tv movie.

image from jameskennedy.ie

OMFG. Poor siouxsie.

Turns out, fish can be eaten fairly easily without causing death. Holes in creeks are almost never large enough or deep enough to swallow you whole and kill you. Happy Days and the Dick van Dyke show weren't quite as bad as I was led to believe, and quicksand? I laughed this morning when I read about it on Wikipedia.

Quicksand's not even dangerous.

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