Happy Gratitude Expression Day!

Right now I am giving thanks that I am in Baton Rouge and sleeping a lot and eating well and have really lovely meds!  The emergency root canal trauma is past, and I am calm and happy in Creole country!  The hot stone massage and lovely facial contributed to my centeredness.

This morning I decided to go for a walk.  The last couple days have been about traveling and spa-ing and eating and I was feeling really restless.

Off I set into the chill Louisiana morning.  The temperature was the same here as it was in Flagstaff, which is wrong on many levels.  Still, the sun was shining brightly and the breeze was light and invigorating and I longed for that sense of superiority one feels as one is out getting exercise while others are feasting. 

The music was great.  My back was a little achey but as I walked it worked itself out... and I wanted to run.  I went back and forth in my mind... I have been warned to not run for a while until I'm farther along in physical therapy and my lower back is stronger.  But then a really good song came on, and I just had to run.  Had to!

So, I did.  I felt rebellious for about 10 seconds then had to concentrate on breathing.

As much as I have complained about running in the past, I admit there were times I have loved it.  Running along Lake Michigan in downtown Chicago from the Chicago River, around Shedd aquarium and back again was a beautiful run.  Running in Phoenix early one morning and watching the world wake up in purples and reds reminded me of the beauty in every setting, when you look for it.

Running isn't something my body takes to... Asthma interferes, especially in Flagstaff where the altitude and the control burns sometimes conspire to suck the joy out of being outside at all, much less running. My back protests when I push too hard.

But sometimes, everything clicks together in some sort of magical sequence that requires my feet to burst into a run and stay there until my lungs burn and my shirt is soaked with sweat, and yeah, my back is aching but that is nothing compared to the sheer joy of moving through the air.

Sometimes I get mad at my body for not being everything I want it to be, and this morning as the sun shone on my back and my ponytail bobbed against my neck, all I could feel was gratitude for the ability to run.  Not a talent and not something I will ever be good at, but I can do it.  My body has survived so many challenges and has climbed every wall I needed to climb.  There are days coming, just as there have been before, when I will not be able to run... or climb... or walk... and I pray my attitude will not be one of grief and loss but simple gratitude of knowing what it feels like when the breeze is light and fresh and my feet are warm from the ground and the music in my ears is perfect and all is well with the world.

Calms and Storms

I was talking to a former colleague and she said, You were always so fun to work with, and so calm!

I was a bit nonplussed at that statement until she reminded me of the time when an hysterical drug addict came into our little storefront law firm in Indiana, and how I kept my head and just dealt with it and was super calm with her.  Or the time a client was losing her head over the possibility of losing custody of her kids and how quietly I managed the situation.

Okay, I will own being good in a crisis.

Yesterday was not that day.

To be fair to myself, this has been building.  It was a rough day to begin with, and  I've been getting sucker punch after sucker punch lately from Life and yesterday culminated in an emergency root canal.  This was not good news.  I could feel my already stress laden brain panicking as the memory of the severe pain from my last root canal in July came to mind, along with ending up in the hospital and missing a lot of work.

I had a total meltdown at the endodontist's office.  She was very kind and explained that happens a lot, including the asthma attack and throwing up part.  That was very nice of her.  She then wrote me a scrip for Valium.

I had to go to Target and while there realized I was past the point of dealing rationally.  So I got a lot of candy -intending to binge quite frankly.

Once I got home and played with Roxy (shout out to Jayne for taking her to her vet appt while I was getting needles stuck in the roof of my mouth!) and ate dinner, I chilled out a bit.  My cousin Hammie called and we talked.  I baked cookies for my dear friend I am visiting today in Louisiana.  I picked a date to travel to Barcelona in the spring.  I packed my suitcase.  I was a lot calmer.  

Eventually, I had a chat with God and apologized for handling things so badly yesterday.  He said it wasn't a big deal and really I am being too hard on myself.  It was a bad day and crying is good for your skin and also releases stress hormones.  Pretending things are fine when they aren't doesn't really benefit anyone.

So as I walked out to the kitchen this morning, I saw the big bag of candy.  I had forgotten I'd bought all that.  I was right when I realized I was beyond dealing with the day rationally.  It wasn't a rational day.  It required dealing with all the emotions and stress and fear and pain.  It did not require candy.  It required love and friends and crying and some really sweet painkillers.

And today is a brand new day.

Loving What You Do

I was at a conference this week, and met someone who basically offered me the opportunity to explore job opportunities at his trust firm.  He pointed out that what I could be making in Manhattan would make the rest of my life QUITE financially comfortable.

So we talked.  In my disbelief that SOMEONE WAS TALKING TO ME ABOUT A JOB THAT PAYS A BILLION TIMES BETTER THAN I MAKE NOW, I promptly texted half the people I know.  Most encouraged me to follow up and take the job if offered, because damn that's a lot of money.  And I was flattered... He explained that my particular qualifications are very rare and very expensive in the world of high finance.  I'm expensive.  I knew that on the output side, never realized that on the income side!

I learned from taking a job once purely for the money to NEVER EVER DO THAT, so I was a bit more circumspect.

The kind of job he was offering was basically life in a shark tank.  If you know me, you know I crumble like a cracker under pressure.

Okay, that isn't really true, I'm pretty damn tough, actually.  But I just don't CARE enough about money to live my life with that at the center.  That sort of job comes with that as a minimum qualification.

A few years ago, I looked around and realized I make enough money. Yeah, it would be nice to have enough to live in luxury, but really, I have a roof over my head, a driveable car and I never have to choose between electricity and food.  This puts me in a pretty freakin grand situation.

More importantly, I have TIME.  I get a goodly number of vacation days, I can spend time with my friends, I don't have to keep my phone on 24/7 or when I'm on vacation.  I work hard, but I can set boundaries for my mental health.

So, while knowing I am Expensive is delightful, I don't want to pay that high a price for that kind of life.

Judgement Day

So. I've been feeling bad about myself lately.  I've been getting sick easily, not rolling with the punches the way I want to be, and I'm eating anything and everything caloricly dense I can find. I'm tired. I'm reactive.

And, I'm gaining weight.  Not much yet, but I'm starting to have visions of gaining back everything I lost with change. So in response to that tight feeling my clothes are giving me, I'm eating even worse and starting the Great Spiral Of Crazy Food Thoughts that never go anywhere good.

During a moment of clarity yesterday, when I was berating myself for yet another poor food choice, I tried to connect with the three-years-ago me, much crazier and reactive than the Me I really know and love... And wondered what made me be more determined and focused and whatever it was that I'm not now.

Judgment.

I remember deciding to stop being so damn judgmental about myself and show myself some fucking compassion about my situation.  I decided to remove all judgment about my weight and behavior and look at it as a problem to solve, no longer a character flaw, and stomping on any and all negativity I directed at myself.

Okay, I have a problem to solve.  

Back to the basics.  Find a support system that includes other people who want a supportive environment to achieve their goals... Friendly, positive, serious about their goals,kind.  Started a FB group with friends.  I think this is a good direction.

Eating my emotions.  Well, I know that is about just feeling my feelings. Be sad, be mad, be happy, be sad one second and mad the next... Acknowledge it and let it go.  Stuffing it just adds more fuel to the flame.

Ask for help.  Ask for help from God, from my friends, from anyone who is willing to provide it.  I am not alone, so I won't act like it.

I'm tired, I'm overwhelmed, I'm stressed.  Well, I can't just exercise away my stress the way I used to... But being patient with myself as I explore what I CAN do and sleep when I need to and attack that To Do list the way one eats an elephant... one bite at a time... That is crucial.

Reminding myself that peace and calm are gifts from God the same as any other thing... if I don't take advantage of it, they are of no value.  When I feel the most rushed and stressed and overwhelmed, that is when I most need to step back, reconnect with the Source whose heart is my home, and show myself some compassion and kindness.

My body is simply worn out from everything it has been required to take on this past year.  Bodies need rest.  I know myself well enough that any weight gain I see is less about what I eat and more about how I feel.  When I'm at peace, the weight comes off with a bit of simple discipline.  When I'm not at peace, I could exercise constantly and live off air and not lose a pound.

So my intention this week is to simply show compassion to myself, and live in peace.  I will peacefully and with compassion observe my behavior and lovingly decide from there the best course of action.

Voice of Truth

Got some scary news.  As you may know, my back has a tendency to go out.  I finally found out why (my spine has decided it has done enough work for one lifetime) and we are deciding on different courses of treatment.

I'm VERY grateful my brother went to med school for all those years just for me.  Right now I am marvelling at God providing me my own personal consultant on this matter -as he happens to be a spine surgeon.

I visited my chiro yesterday for an adjustment after my amazing trip to Philly.  I filled him in on what the latest doctor's opinion was, and said I was going to see another surgeon in PHX that my brother recommended.  My chiro said, "You know, brothers are always overcautious and want to believe the very best at all times..." hinting that it is pretty much pointless to go see the second surgeon.  I just cocked my head and said, "You know, out of the SIX medical professionals involved in this right now, only ONE has ever taken a beating for me.  So he is the one I know, no matter what, is thinking about what is best for me."

This is all scary to me.  I have more questions than answers and lots of people throwing opinions and advice and telling me about how miracles are always possible and no one can really predict the course of things, etc. ad nauseum.

What I know and experience every single day is the agony I call "The First Five Steps Out of Bed" followed by "Accidentally Landing on My Left Foot Too Hard."

As I was telling my trainer about my new set of limitations, I could FEEL the fear like a creeping spider weaving its web around my brain.

As I started my car to head in to work, a song by Casting Crowns was on the radio, and this was the exact line it started on:

And the Voice of Truth tells me a different story,
And the Voice of Truth says, Do Not Be Afraid.
And the Voice of Truth say, This is for My glory;
out of all the voices calling out to me
I will choose to listen and believe the voice of truth.

So.  I will not be afraid. And no matter how this all turns out in the next few months and years, this is certainly not the end of the story.

Thank You to the Red-Headed Young Woman in Sprouts

After off-and-on sleep, I was jarred awake just before noon by my phone reminding me I was supposed to be in the car on my way to meet a friend for lunch.  I flew into clothes and shoved Roxy unceremoniously into the garage and drove like a demon. 

Whew! I was groggy and still exhausted, but I was at least present and only 15 minutes late.

After our lovely lunch during which I consumed an unholy amount of coffee, I decided to run over to Sprouts and get some more chocolate covered almonds from the bulk food section. The store was VERY crowded. I was very tired. I decided since I was just getting one thing, I would be fine.

I successfully got a couple scoops into the plastic bag, pulled the tab to write the number onto said tab but the pen-on-a-rope was running out of ink.  I tried to use part of the crate display next to it to get legible script.

I gently shoved the display pile of sesame-covered-somethings just hard enough to cause several of the packages to crash to the floor, one exploding in seemingly slow motion in a truly spectacular fashion.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

I sighed, plopped my purse on the ground and started crawling around amid the crowded shopping carts to gather up all the little sesame-covered-somethings that seemed to multiply upon impact.  I got glares from other impatient shoppers.  I was proud of myself for resisting the urge to simply sit on my behind and cry.

As I continued to clean up my mess, I saw out of the corner of my eye a small red-headed young woman with a knit cap kneel next to me to help me scoop up it all up.  She looked like a college student.

"Thank you," I muttered, feeling grateful but mostly feeling embarrassed and tired.

She smiled brightly, "No problem, I drop things and make messes all the time.  No big deal."

I know I didn't smile, I was too focused on feeling miserable to do anything other than nod soberly.  She chatted a bit, very friendly, and together we quickly finished.  Before I could say thank you again, she had disappeared.

I took the food that had been on the floor to a Sprouts employee, explaining what it was.  My intended purchase was left behind as I fled out the door.  I was just too close to tears to risk standing in the check-out line.

Once I got to my car, I thought about how kind that young woman was.    I wished I had been more openly grateful.  Hopefully she realized my silence was about being embarrassed, and not ingratitude for her help.

So, whoever you are -and maybe we will run into each other again some day- thank you.

Brave

One of the most amazing and inspiring women I have ever met, Stephanie, and I discussed bravery a bit the other day.  Stephanie recently made a video about her own experiences growing up in a violent household, including the murder of her mother by her father.  She made the video to encourage people in violent situations to get the help they need to save themselves.

She is one of the bravest people I know.  I told her that and she asked me why.  I, of course, responded, that you were so vulnerable and honest and open in that video.  That is scary to share so much of yourself to help other people.

She responded, very soberly, I thought I was brave to make the video because my father is still alive, not in jail, and I am still scared of him 40 years later.  It doesn't make sense, but I am.

Yes.  It isn't really rational, considering the man's age and general lack of opportunity for revenge. Fear is rarely rational.  She knew I understood.  Her bravery became even more inspiring. 

Sometimes people who have seen the absolute worst of humankind know exactly how cruel people can be to each other, and how easy it can be to descend into that pit.  That kind of fear -the fear of somehow being hurting and helpless again- (and that isn't even exactly what I mean) is very hard to release when you take it in as a child.  How you grow and learn to be in the world is shaped by that evil.  You heal from it more and more every day, but healing is a very long and very intentional process that is impossible without grace.

"Brave" takes many forms.  Brave is making a good life for yourself no matter your roots.  Brave is being in loving and healthy relationships. Brave is doing the hard work to let go of anger, hatred, fear, revenge.  Brave is knowing that nothing outside yourself can ever EVER diminish your value.  Brave is being honest always.  Brave is taking responsibility for your own growth.  Brave is finding your voice and using it in love.  Brave is choosing love and forgiveness and compassion.

Under any of those definitions, she is possibly the very bravest person I know.

And here is the link to her video, so you can help spread the word to end domestic violence now:


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wn3_0fhspn8&feature=em-share_video_user