Love Heals

I have often berated myself for being so sensitive and for feeling things so deeply. No more.

After Fiona, 2018

I have grown as a person, and a big part of being a human being is feeling things. I don't want to be that person who doesn't feel, who is cold and impersonal, who cannot empathize with others' emotions. Yes, it's dangerous to be that open and vulnerable, but to close myself off from that part of me is to die inside. I have healed from too much to be stifled now.

• I've learned that any relationship that steals my peace is not worth the sacrifice.
• I've learned that my emotions will let me know if a relationship is safe or not.
• I've learned (and am continuing to learn) that I need to trust myself, to trust my gut reactions, because they know something my logical mind cannot process. 

In so doing, I am learning to love who I am more than I used to. And that this is a good thing. One cannot pour from an empty cup. I now spend time filling my own cup from the source of unconditional Love, and by reaching out to others who love me for who I am.

These are thoughts I have been pondering over the course of the last couple of weeks. If feeling weak or more sensitive is a by-product of this process, then I remind myself that I have grown enough to allow myself to experience these feelings and process them rather than hide from them in Denial.

It feels good, this new space.

Contentment

 "It's my life, it's now or never;
I ain't gonna live forever!
I just wanna live while I'm alive:
It's. My. Life."        - Jon bon Jovi, 2000

My daughter used to listen to this song when she was a teen (she's 31 now.) I hated it. I considered it a selfish, godless, rebellious statement. 

Now, I'm beginning to see the real meaning behind bon Jovi's words. I've spent far too long being dead while I'm alive, going through the motions, regretting yesterday and either fearing or not being able to wait until tomorrow. Never was my mind on where I was, what I was doing, or who I was. 

Contented kitty!
Image by mysgreen1 at pixabay

In my journey of the last five years or so, there is one word that keeps recurring for me. That word is CONTENTMENT. It encompasses letting go of yesterday and of tomorrow. It means living in the present, enjoying the now, and finding YES in as much and in as many ways as possible. It also means accepting myself as I am, and not wishing I were someone else.

It didn't come easily. I'm still learning, as a matter of fact. However, disciplining myself to come back to the present has been one of the most healthful, wholesome exercises I have had the good fortune to stumble upon and practice. Achieving a calm, unruffled state on a regular basis has reduced my stress, improved my sleep, and made me more willing to accept other people and events as they are. This, I have learned, brings contentment: a lasting state of peace. 

In that state, I am free to express my emotions and act for the betterment of others, while not taking anything personally. My life experiences and the people with whom I have had the privilege of interacting all have contributed to that mindset. I am a better person, a better wife and mother, a better friend, and a better citizen because of it. 

I am a spiritual being who just so happens to inhabit a physical body ... for now. The notion of a life beyond this one has inspired me to try to enrich the now, not to bemoan my difficulties and pine away for 'pie in the sky bye and bye.' This, too, enhances my present contentment. I feel safe and secure. I trust. I love. I believe. I act from those core values. 

And along the way, if my journey touches yours and makes it better, I'm perfectly fine with that. In fact, that's where I find another essential of contentment: joy. 

2020 - accepting the good, the bad, and the ugly

 As I sit down to write this post today, my dog is at my side, cuddled up to me, in utter doggie contentment. I think to myself how I can relate to that feeling of being right where I most want to be, doing exactly what I most want to do. It is from that place of fullness that I write about 2020: a year that, for many, has been a horrific disaster from start to finish. 

There is no doubt that historically, the world has changed significantly in the last 12 months. Politics, pandemics, persecution, protests, posturing, and petulance have marked our Western society throughout the year. Many worldwide have felt hopeless, harassed, even hunted. And as we come to the close of it, there are some sparks of hope that the disease which has intensified our societal problems may have an end in sight. However, it does not mean that there are not still problems. 

There has been much to be sad about this year. People have died, either through illness or ignorance. But in the midst of it all, there have also been signs of life, light, laughter, and love.

For me, 2020 has been a time of great sorrow and of great joy. The great sorrow came in February when my brother passed away suddenly after having succumbed to an infection that left him too weak to get to a phone. Feeling empty and alone, I turned my attention to adopting a puppy, who quickly filled our home and my life with laughter, love, and life as he explored and learned each new thing. We got him in the early stages of the pandemic, before we got the hang of this whole social distancing thing. Fortunately, nobody was ill and we were even able to tend to his vaccinations and his neutering as time went on. 

In September, I began a new chapter for me as I started the long-awaited practicum placement that my university requires for me to get my Masters in Counselling Psychology. What I didn't foresee was how wonderfully fulfilling it was (and is) to be there and be present for each of my charges, to listen to them and to watch them grow in themselves and their relationships with themselves, others, and sometimes with God. There have been challenges of course, but I am doing something that I love doing. 

So for me, all told, 2020 hasn't been so bad. Sure, it sucks to not be able to see my friends and family as often, but I have my little family here, which includes a couple of other people in our bubble (the "kith" of kith and kin), and of course the animals. I get to do a lot of things that make me happy, and my stress levels are vastly reduced from a year ago. I guess it has to do with that all-important little word called acceptance. 

Photo "Sun Ray Behind Dark Cloud"
courtesy of Sura Nualpradid at
freedigitalphotos.net

When I accept the things that come my way and don't wish them gone or hurried up, when I receive them and enjoy whatever moments of goodness they bring to me, it is then that I can live in peace. These are lessons I'm learning in this new phase of my life - lessons like living in the now, doing what I can and letting go of what I can't, and making time to laugh and enjoy living without fretting about the future or regretting the past. Too long I have lived with those thieves of joy. It's time to step up, to move ahead, and to enrich my every day by seeing and believing the best, even if things seem bad or ugly. The truth is, there is always some good to be found if you look for it. If you look for bad things, you'll find them. So I choose to look for good things, and let the bad ones go. 

Onward to 2021 - a new year, a new decade. I'm grateful. If our paths cross and we walk together, be that virtually or in person, I hope we part ways encouraged and strengthened. 

5-4-3-2-1

Sometimes, the rush of passing time, deadlines, expectations, and worries about the future are too much for me to handle, and I find myself getting overwhelmed, distracted, and stressed out. When I realize this is happening, (and I realize it far less often than I would like), I return to some little techniques that I learned last fall and which have helped me to get centered, grounded, and  calm. 

One of these techniques is the topic of today's post.  5-4-3-2-1 is something I can do at any time, any place, even when driving (especially in daylight hours when the roads are not slippery.) Let me tell you how it works.

It involves the five senses: sight, hearing, touch, smell and taste. What it does is it allows a person to notice their surroundings in concrete ways, and keeps them in the present. 

Let's pretend I'm driving on a nice sunny day, but my thoughts are whirling around things that might or might not happen, the health of a loved one, etc. I realize I'm doing this and that it's stressing me out, so I begin.

5. I pick FIVE things (one at a time and dwelling on each one) that I can see. I choose to enjoy the sight of it, either the color or the shape or whatever. So ... I see a blue house in the field over there. It has white shutters and looks like an old farm-house. It has a barn in the background and I smile as I think about how those who live there might enjoy a day like this, outside with the animals. That's one. Then I pick a second, dwelling on each one in my mind as I look at it. If I run out of things to see (which is unlikely while driving), I think about my favorite sights: a rainbow, a horse running in a field, and so forth. I enjoy each one; I take my time doing it.

4. Then, I pick FOUR things that I can hear. They could be the sound of the tires on the road, the music I'm listening to, and so forth. I take time to let each one come into my consciousness and make me smile. 

3. I pick THREE things that I can feel.  The cool of the fan on a hot day. The vibration of the steering wheel in my hand, and so forth.

2. Then I move to smell. I pick TWO things I can smell, or that I LIKE to smell. I let each one delight me.

1. Finally, I pick ONE thing that I can taste or that I love to taste... same idea.

Free Image by David Mark at Pixabay

By that time, I can tell that my shoulders are looser, my back less tense, and my breathing slower and deeper. The things I was stressing about seem a bit less important in the here and now than they were ten minutes ago.  

The above exercise is called a "grounding technique" and it is one tool that works to varying degrees for people who have anxiety, panic attacks, and/or flashbacks to traumatic events. It also cultivates gratitude, and reminds me that no matter what else is going on in my life, there is always something to appreciate, that the ability to experience the world is a tremendous gift, and that I'm okay in this present moment. 

There are more exercises - so many breathing exercises, for example, that focus on the here and now of your own breath. You don't have to be a yoga master, or practice Buddhism, to do them, just look them up on your favorite search engine. I find that 4-7-8 breathing is a good way to calm myself when I am over-stressed or nervous about a meeting or interview. I inhale slowly into my belly for the count of four, hold for the count of seven, and exhale slowly for the count of eight - and repeat again and again, until I am calmer and more at peace.  

Happy breathing everyone! I hope you have a really wonderful day.

The Love-lens

Most people, when they think of addicts, think of things like alcohol, drugs, even gambling or sex. But really, someone can be addicted to anything: fitness workouts, a super-clean house, adrenaline (extreme sports for example), TV shows, ... and the list goes on and on. I was thinking about this earlier today and wondered if anyone had considered an addiction that is quite common in humans: the obsession with tragedy, closely related to the need to gossip about or find out about the sordid little details of someone's life (specifically about their tragedies). 

Some folks, I find, like nothing better than to get their own dander up by seeking out horrific things and then passing them along. Somehow this seems to give them the moral high ground to be the first one to alert their friends to these things. A tragic car accident, a shooting, an earthquake, a fire - these are all juicy fodder for discussion, especially if they have photos to go with it. 

I've never seen the attraction in it. To me, there is enough bad in the world without sussing out every last little detail and glorifying it by speculating on what was involved (was there alcohol or drugs involved in the car crash, for example) and further traumatizing the victims or their families. 

Photo by Marek from Pexels

What I and many others prefer to do is to focus instead on the good. It's a shift of perspective, putting on a different lens, so to speak. It's changing from the gloom-and-doom focus to one of hope and love. Shifting to a love-lens allows people to see the humanity of someone else, allows them to look at what is right rather than what is wrong, and shifts the response to bad things from "Isn't that awful? / They must be horrible people" to "What can I do to help?" (Yes, that's a link there in bold - it goes to a video that you can watch in another tab or window.)

The love-lens allows me to focus on showing compassion instead of judging, offering acceptance instead of prejudice, and being kind instead of impatient or cross with people. 

The simple thought process of the love-lens means that when I get delayed in traffic because of someone hesitating at the traffic light, instead of giving in to the temptation to be annoyed or angry, I think of all the distractions in their life, or that maybe they need that delay because it might save them from having an accident a few miles away. A love-lens looks at the old man wandering on the street, staggering, as someone who may be experiencing a reaction to medication, rather than automatically labelling him a drunk and moving away from him. It sees the child misbehaving in a store as a kid who has been overstimulated and is tired of being around too many people, rather than a bratty kid whose parent cannot control him.  It sees the parent as being in an embarrassing situation and needing a helping hand rather than a disappointed glare.

Do you see what I mean? Cultivating that love-lens takes time - but the more you use it, the easier it is to use the next time, and the next. I'm not saying I use it all the time (although I would like to!) but whenever I do, it has helped me treat people with respect, be more patient with people's mistakes, and generally put myself in others' shoes before I make snap judgments.

If you haven't already done so, click the link I put in bold, above, and watch the video. It says things in a much better way than I could. 

The present

In my last post on this blog, written in May of this year, I was talking about waiting for the next phase of my degree, my practicum. I spoke of it as a destination and of the plaintive cry of someone on a journey asking if we were there yet. 

But as it turned out, the practicum was not a destination, but only the beginning of another journey - one that took a sudden turn I wasn't (but should have been) expecting: basically, my practicum supervisor fired me. The sense of failure was very real, and I began to question everything about the last ten years of my life: my recovery from codependency, my personal growth, my relationships with my extended family members, my desire to become a therapist, my self-image as a kind and compassionate person, and my suitability for a helping profession. It was quite wrenching - traumatic - overwhelming.

In addition, the shock of that experience tipped me over the edge emotionally and after the initial days and days of crying, it's like the water that overflowed the dam just froze in place. Nothing penetrated. Nothing affected me. I could not feel sad, or happy, or angry, or worried. Sleep was fitful and gave me no real rest; motivation went out the window. I started to isolate myself from things, lost interest in the things I loved to do (music, word games, etc.) and just buried myself in escapist behaviors: binge-watching shows I had seen so many times I could recite the dialogue, mostly.

So I sought professional help. I asked my doctor about it and he put me on an antidepressant and referred me to a psychologist. I have my first appointment with her next month. And although I didn't want to do it, I forced myself to do certain things for myself: read something inspirational every day, brush my teeth every day, eat regular meals, and find something to do that got me out of the house once in a while. 

Photo by Tirachard Kumtanom from Pexels

And - of late - I have been pondering the idea of staying in the moment, and not thinking about the past or the future. Like yesterday morning. I had eaten my breakfast and was finishing my coffee when I saw a box of Turtles (TM) on the table. I decided that I would like to eat one. Just one. Slowly. And as I bit into it, there was a part of me that said, "Hey. You'll be late for work. This is ridiculous. You're wasting time here. You have to get your makeup on and pack up your stuff to go." And from somewhere inside of me came another voice, one that said, "No. Just enjoy this moment. This is self-care. Taste the taste, really focus on it." And I did. When I was done, that part of me said, "Now, see? THAT is being in the moment. Nothing more simple than that." And I realized that I had rushed through so much of my life trying to get to the destination or the next big thing, and missed out so much on the "in-between" stuff of everyday life: the journey of thousands of moments.

It is a new learning experience for me, this 'savoring the moment' notion. It is this moment right now that I have: the now. Who was it that said, "Yesterday is history; tomorrow is a mystery. Today is a gift - that is why it is called the present"? 

In that same vein, I received another unexpected present this morning, before we even opened our gifts. Our little family was having breakfast together, talking about a movie we had watched together recently, "The Greatest Showman" (which I highly recommend, by the way!), and we were saying how all the little threads of P.T. Barnum's life, which seemed so random and unrelated to each other, the glad and the sad and the mad, weaved themselves together in his life to show him his purpose and help him fulfill his dream. And that's when it hit me. All of those things in my life - glad, sad, and mad - also had purpose and were being woven together in me in the present. 

That was the gift I had been given, and even though it was not yet complete, I caught a glimpse - a freeze-frame, if you will - of becoming who I am meant to be.  In the moment, in the now, in the present, weaving the past threads together, the dark and the bright and the gray and the colored threads that seem so purposeless by themselves seemed, for one brief moment, to coalesce. 

And in that moment, I felt something. For the first time in weeks, I felt something! An emotion, a state of being, a ... whatever you want to call it. The closest I can come to describing it is by calling it hope. But it was not the wishing-for kind of hope. It was more an assurance that I am where I am supposed to be, even if it is hard. That right now is a gift: the Present. That it is okay to be where I am. And my throat tightened, and my nose stung, and tears welled up and spilled over onto my face. 

And I lifted my face upward and whispered, "Thank You." 

Not yet ...

"Are we therrre yet?" This is the plaintive, whiny cry that Western parents have come to dread; it is the stuff of comedy sketches, sitcoms, and throw-away lines in kids' movies. I poke fun at it to cope with how annoying it is, but truth be told, often I succumb to the same lack of patience, that same intolerance of waiting. 

Waiting has never been my strong suit; I have mentioned it before. It seems that my whole life has been one long wait, interrupted with periods of frantic activity when things fall into place, followed by still more waiting for things to fall into place again. The waiting seems eternal.  And yet, looking back after things have fallen into place, I ask myself where the time went. I heard an expression today that reminded me of this - it had to do with parenthood: The nights are so long, but the years are so short.  I think the concept applies to all of life. The waiting is long, but life is so short.  

Lately, my waiting has taken the form of going through a Masters degree program in counseling. Sometimes, it feels like I have been in this waiting mode forever. Wait for the textbook to get here. Wait for my marks for Assignment Three. Wait for registration to open for the next term. Wait and wait and wait. And wait. Yet, sometime around the middle of last term, it struck me that I had less time ahead of me in my program of study than I had behind me. Realizing that caught me by surprise. So did the dominoes falling into place when I finally contacted the agency where I will be doing my practicum in a few short months (starting September 2018). The waiting felt like forever, but the interviews only took a couple of weeks to set up, and in one short, noon visit with them, they offered me an internship there. Just like that. 

And then the days got long again. Such a long stretch between that and the actual practicum that not even taking another course in between is enough to make it hurry up and get here. So there is a definite part of me that is whining, "Are we therrre yet?" 

Beautiful fall (September) leaves - pic
is from Pixabay.com

And of course the answer comes. Not yet.

Not yet. It's coming, but we're not quite there ... not yet. 

The days seem so long.

Only another week before I start getting my paperwork together (copy of my undergrad degree, certificates I've passed, criminal record check, etc.). Only another month before I can start looking for an apartment (I'm doing my practicum out of province). A little over two months and I'll be moving into that apartment. And in a year, I will be finished my practicum and starting to get my qualifying hours to be a licensed counselling therapist. WOW.

I keep telling myself these little things with the hopes that they will appease that impatient inner child. They do quiet the whining. But so far, the effects are temporary. And soon there will be another plaintive, "Are we therrre yet?"  And my adult self will say, "Not yet." And before long, I will add the word "Soon."

Soon there will be a full schedule. Soon there won't be enough hours in the day (even more than it is right now, which is hard to imagine). Soon, I will be dividing my time between practicum, school assignments, working to pay the bills, and somehow finding time to do all the things I rely on others for now: shopping, cleaning, cooking (okay well I do like to cook), washing dishes, tidying, laundry, and driving myself places instead of being driven. 

But not yet. Not yet. Not... yet. Hmmm. Wait a sec.  What about NOW?

Now is the time in which I am living. Now is when I can breathe, focus on the next task (however small or possibly unpleasant), and still make time for looking after my needs for sleep, nutrition, and other kinds of self-care. Today I helped spread mulch with my family to ease their load a bit, a rather rare thing for me, but I needed a break from studying and they were outside. So out I went. It was only 20 minutes, but it was a "now" thing. Not a wishing-it-could-be-September thing. Not a can't-wait-til-I-can-get-my-apartment thing. Not a oh-my-goodness-where-am-I-going-to-live thing. It was a NOW thing. 

NOW is when I can water my plants, do my assignments, help people at work, look after myself, teach my daughter more about how to prepare and cook things (expanding her knowledge about the basics of food preparation, for example) and enjoy every second I get to spend with her and with my husband. I can pet our cats - NOW. I can fold the laundry - NOW. I can do so many little things NOW. 

And if I focus on the now, there won't be enough time for me to ask if I'm there yet. Before I know it, "soon" will BE "now" - and in hardly any time at all, the years will have been so short. 

And I will wonder where they went.

Just Breathe

It started up again a couple of weeks ago. I hadn't felt like this since ... well, since every day was a stress of not knowing where my youngest daughter was, if she was okay, whether she'd ever find a home, and if I would ever see her alive again. My body hurt. Specifically, my stomach muscles hurt. And they were rock hard ... and not in a good way. They were hard in that clench tight, don't let go EVER, gotta hold it all together way.

And a couple of weeks ago, I felt that same pain. I hadn't even known that the stress had been building; it kind of crept up on me. I thought I had a hernia or something. And then I felt it ... my hand went to my stomach and I felt that same, hard ball of stress. Anxiety. Fear. What the - - where did THAT come from?

What was it? why was I stressing? Nothing huge was wrong - yet my body didn't know it. And as a result... OW. 

So as I engaged in some deep breathing to relax those muscles, I started reviewing all the possible causes - and what I realized was that it wasn't just any one thing, like it was before. It was a combination of lot of little tiny things. 

My health - getting better but a lot of changes in that this year: precancerous cells in my uterus, removal of same, recovery from the surgery, slow to bounce back because of diabetes. And plantar fasciitis from too much time on my feet a few months ago. Again, slow to recover due to diabetes.
My family - my husband turning a milestone number this year and me not far behind. Him getting closer to an August 2018 surgery to repair a torn bicep. Daughter slowly getting back on her feet from her injury five years ago - and taking the beginning steps of going back to school. (Not all stress is bad stress.)
My work - end of one kind of duties and start (or restart) of others. Uncertainty whether it will change yet again.
My extended family - mom with dementia, brother with major health issues, plus a number of toxic people trying to take over the situation.
My school - getting closer and closer to graduation, more behind me than in front of me. Uncertainty as to where I will do my practicum, and whether my job will give me the time off with pay to do that.  Deadline for practicum approval is now within 6 months. 

Hmm, quite a list. I found myself tensing up just typing it onto the screen. And that's not including other things that are too personal to write about.  Okay so there is a lot of stress, from a lot of things - some of them bigger than others. So how do I deal? 

Yeah, I can hear the advice - not something I wouldn't say to anyone going through it themselves - but this is different. This is ME. What's going to work for ME? 

I let my mind wander. What helps me in the everyday? What is something that I can latch onto, an easy memory trick to remind me to let go, to accept what I can't change, to change what I can and know which is which? 

Photo "Girl With Daisy" by
Claire Bloomfield at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

Then I remember this little painted sign that the sister of a co-worker made for her out of a little rectangle of lumber. Painted black with white script lettering on it, she keeps it on her shelf. And she sits right across from me. 

The sign says "Just Breathe." (It looks a lot like the sign on the bottom of this pic.)

When I take notice of it, I can check in with myself and realize that I have resorted to shallow, quick breaths, the kind you take when you are expending a lot of effort while in state of anxiety or fear. 

Reminding myself to Just Breathe helps to untie the knots in my upper abdomen and realize that there are some things I just cannot control, nor should I try. They just are what they are. And if I take them one moment at a time, they're not that huge. They just are.

Tonight, as I take time to recharge, I think I will be thinking about that little sign. And I will do what it says.

Forever

Today is her birthday.
As if she'd ever let me - or anyone - forget.
She would have been 25.
But she's 21. Forever.

Forever young ... full of zest and zing
  and a hundred or two other things
  both maddening and endearing,
I remember the bad and good ... together.

Laughter - long and loud - left us in tears
  gasping for breath in spite of our fears,
  and echoes in my heart through the years
as hearty and raucous as ever.

Sometimes ... with a bang, the screen door closes
  and with a puff of wind and the faint scent of roses
  she rushes in, and yesterday composes
a sweet song as fleeting as a wisp of smoke.

Those moments, swift and elusive to capture
  dance around the black heart of disaster
  and call me instead to all of the rapture
she now enjoys - and oh, such unexpected joy!

See you later, my belle - Arielle - 
  I'll hold the torch, and keep it burning well
  until someday I hear the soundless bell 
and join you in Forever.

                              - - Judy Gillis
                                   (c) July 16, 2017

 

I ... am ... enough

I was reading in Brené Brown's book, Daring Greatly, today during a few moments of self-care time, when I realized that it had been a long time since I had made time for structured self-care! Lately, I have been so frantic about doing what I do (wife, mother, employee, boss, daughter, sister and student) and doing it well in all areas, (what does it matter that I only get three to five hours of sleep a night? right?) that I didn't realize I was once more heading down the path toward co-dependency, or as I have been calling it, "doormat-itis." Or being "Champion of the Underdog."

I had been focusing way too much on what folks expected of me and on the standards others had placed upon me (which I was trying to live up to) that I had lost sight of who I was. Again. WOW that's a slippery slope!! I realized this as I was in the process of unfriending someone on Facebook who had given me yet one more standard or expectation to live up to, one which I do not agree with, and who then proceeded to attack me about some choices I had made, which this person didn't agree with. The person had listened to other people's version of things, and convinced themselves that I was in error and just needed to see the "truth" ... but... and just as I trailed off there, I caught myself spiraling down into the abyss of self-protection, crusading, and other self-defeating thinking. I was taking on too much, and I was taking things in my loved ones' circumstances way too personally because I was the white knight, the defender, the rescuer, the protective "Mama bear" who would defend her own. It was killing me.

Photo "Young Lady Holding Umbrella" by
imagerymajestic at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

 As I was pondering this while reading Ms. Brown's book, I came across this statement and it rocked me back on my heels! 

"We have to believe we are enough in order to say, 'Enough!' " (pp. 144-145). 

 My umbrella of self-care, my affirmations from when I was in therapy, my learning to let go, ... I had forgotten it all - and this "enough!" statement brought me back to those hard-learned lessons and made me remember three very important things: (1) I am worthy of love and belonging (as Brené Brown says), (2) helping someone is a great and noble cause, but when it comes at the expense of my own mental health, I have invested too much of myself, and (3) when I catch myself slipping back into those old patterns, it is time to remember where and what my boundaries are, and to live within them.  This reminds me that others have boundaries as well, and (as hard as it is for me to accept) other people don't have to like me or agree with everything I do in order for me to like myself. I had done all I could do in this circumstance I mentioned, and whether someone agreed with my actions or my beliefs or my choices was irrelevant. The only thing that mattered was that I was following my conscience and that I have remained true to myself. The rest is of no consequence. 

Am I going to apologize? Am I going to re-friend this person? No. I didn't do anything against my conscience, and others' opinions of my choices are not my concern. I don't need to surround myself with people who can find nothing better to do than criticize someone else over something that is none of their business. That puts them (in their minds) in a position of superiority over me, and then I try to assert my superiority, and so on and so forth. I am not playing those games anymore. Will this person ever change their mind? Probably not. But again, that is not my concern. They are going to think what they are going to think, and nothing I say or do will change that. 

I need to be courageous about this lifestyle of letting go, because all of my life, I was hammered into thinking that what other people thought of me mattered, and I became a chameleon and by the end of it, I didn't even know who I was anymore. I have been slipping back into that mind-set. I am going to stop now. I am done with being afraid. I am tired of putting on the junkyard dog mask to hide that fear.  

What I am going to do is follow something that a co-worker's sister made for her. She has some writing, white on black, on a little sign on her bookshelf - two little words in beautiful script writing - "Just Breathe." It reminds me to breathe deeply. And in that breath, I remind myself that I am enough. That I am worthy. That I am loved. That I am all of these things and more besides. That I need to let go of my need for approval. That I need to let go of the need to prove that I am right. That I remember to let go.  

What a relief. Maybe tonight, for the first time in weeks, I will be able to sleep through the night without nightmares or anxious thoughts waking me up. I sure hope so...

The Whole Elephant

A few times in the last school year, someone (student or professor or course designer) has made reference to the six blind men from Indostan trying to describe an elephant.  You know how the parable goes - the man who felt the ear thought the elephant was a fan, the one feeling the leg thought it was like a tree, the one feeling the trunk thought it was like a snake, the one feeling the tusk thought the elephant was like a spear, the one feeling the side thought it was a wall, and the one at the tail thought it was like a rope. Everybody was right, but nobody was.  They argued over which of them was in the right - when if they had just realized that each of them was feeling a different part and that maybe they could collaborate and construct an overall mental picture (or switch positions so all could feel what the other one did), they might understand more about what an elephant was. 

The graduate journey has been like that lately.  As my skill level grows and my confidence expands, I am getting more of a 'big picture' of what this profession is all about. It involves so much more than just sitting across a desk from someone.  It includes things like community involvement, networking, continuing education (i.e., staying current), and a continual process of self-reflection and personal growth.  The more I learn, even though it sounds odd to say, the more I find both my confidence and my humility growing. I am adopting what some post-modernist thinkers have called a "beginner's mind." That is, I have never fully arrived; there is always something to learn, and my perspective might not be someone else's but holds no more merit than theirs.

Photo "African Elephant"
courtesy of africa at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

In the same way, new developments at my job have put me in a role where I am able to step back and get a glimpse of a bigger picture than I had before.  I have been asked to fill a team leader role, which puts me into discussions that I had not previously been privy to, at a level that I knew existed, but didn't have any experience (or very little) with.  The timing of this is quite good, because I have applied to fill that role for real, and I may be invited to an interview for the position sometime in the next month.  My experience in that role will stand me in good stead in the interview, I'm sure. Again, my beginner's mind comes to the forefront: I have adopted a teachable attitude, and that helps me to accept instruction without becoming offended. At the same time, I am also able to see how my increased influence can work toward helping more people at a time than I could have in my team member role (where it was one applicant at a time).  I can still DO that (when I have time) and I enjoy it, but as a team leader, I can see the effects of what I do in a more global sense of the ripple effect that my actions have.  I see my role as of a facilitator - someone who makes it easier for people to feel valued and to do their work unhindered.  If that happens, they can do more work in less time - and the whole team is able to help more people.

All of this (present situation) comes just barely 5 months after I was diagnosed with diabetes, a diagnosis which literally saved my life.  I cannot imagine myself ever being able to even attempt all of the above if I was still feeling the way I was six months ago: bone-tired, dragging myself around, and with aches and pains from a Body Mass Index that was approaching 50 (30 is considered obese). At the moment, it's just barely over 40, and on its way down.  But even before it started going down, I discovered that taking my medication, eating more healthily, and getting my blood sugar under control took away that fatigued feeling, controlled my appetite, and gave me more energy. This was even BEFORE I started becoming a bit more active (and only because I had more energy, not because I was trying to lose weight!) The weight coming off has been a happy side-effect.  (Okay ... I must admit that fitting into smaller clothes - and having people finally notice the difference - really feels good too...) 

But getting back to my original thought: lately, living and enjoying life - more and more in the last year or so - has just begun to make a lot more sense to me. I am noticing that I accept myself and my personality much better, that I am more at ease with being myself rather than doing that 'chameleon' thing that is so counter-productive, and that people can like me just the way I am without all of that panic, pretending, and posturing. I am starting to shed that "don't hurt me" approach to life, and I'm acting as if I have a say in how my life and my future turns out. Hm! And instead of getting locked in my own little silo of how I see the world, I am beginning to see the value in trying to see things from someone else's perspective, even if only to more fully understand (and maybe adapt) my own. (I wonder if that's called 'growing up.')  

The whole elephant is coming into focus. It's not just a fan, or a spear, or a snake, or a wall, or a tree, or a rope. It's starting to look more like an elephant.  And it's beautiful. 

Moving on

The last time I wrote on Words That Stay, it was not long after losing our youngest child in a car crash. Even though life turned topsy-turvy in short order (!!) I found strength in love and faith ... serenity, and yes, courage to accept the things I could not change. Now, life changes rapid pace, and throws more curve balls at us. The university I was attending turned out not to be accepted by my province's counsellor's registration board (a fact that was downplayed by the university, hmmm). Which meant that I had to stop my studies in August 2014, and start from scratch somewhere else - and the place that worked out for me wasn't accepting new registrations for that academic year, but for the next one.

Further delays.

So, swallowing my pride, I applied in January for a September 2015 intake, and their decision will soon be made .. within the next couple of weeks. If accepted, the program will take 3.3 years. That's a long old road.

But, it will be slightly slower-paced, require more practicum hours (more means a better quality graduate, haha) and be way better on the cash flow (always good).

I've also been moving forward in other areas of my life (such as getting much-needed medical attention rather than "suffering through it" for a physical issue, and paying more attention to my mental health), and letting other things lapse. I've been releasing ambitions I once had that take up too much energy and cause me more stress than they're worth. I've been standing up for myself a bit more, as hard as that is!! And I'm slowly accepting the fact that not everyone has to like me and that I'm no less important just because someone doesn't like me (this is a HUGE step forward). 

Photo "Black Board" by
bulldogza at
www.freedigitalphtos.net

I'm learning again and again that friendship is something very precious, and that you don't surround yourself with people who are toxic to you or who don't understand you, no matter how much they say they care. 

This applies even if the label they say they wear is the same as the one you say you wear. It also applies to those who think they have a right to have a say because they're "family." 

Regardless of the calling card that makes someone think that I am just like him or her, or that we have a common history or affiliation, I'm learning that trust is earned and that not everyone is trustworthy. These are hard lessons to learn for someone who (at the core) is an idealist. 

I'm learning that I can trust my Higher Power to keep my confidences, to listen to me, to care about me and to go before me to prepare my path, whatever that path is. 

I'm learning to prioritize the goals that I have and to reach and work for those which are most important to me. All these things I feel I should have learned so long ago; yet, I am learning them now - which is better than never learning them at all. 

A fresh slate in the school of life is humbling, but it's also full of possibility. I wonder what possibilities are around THIS corner...

Let Go - Let God

It hangs in just about every recovery room I have been in. Along with several other slogans, like "First Things First" and "Honesty" and "Humility" .... there it sits.

"LET GO - LET GOD." 

I used to think I knew what that meant. I guess, to a certain degree, I did (and do). However, the further I get into recovery from control-freaking and doormat-itis, the more I am convinced that I don't know what it is, because it appears I have to keep learning it. 

"Anchor and Navigation" courtesy of njaj at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

Or maybe it's just something that comes with practice. If so, I get to practice it. A LOT. 

Especially since getting into recovery nearly 4 years ago now. Stuff happens, and I'm allowed to feel what I feel - that part I'm getting, so it's not such a stretch for me anymore (even if it is pretty tumultuous at times!)  It's the "letting go" part that's never easy ... and the "letting God" part seems just as hard now as it was the first time!! 

However, the depth of experience I have been getting in that area convinces me that this letting go and letting God is the only way to navigate the storms of life, to ride them out, maybe even to be a little happier. I'm learning to own my own stuff and let others own theirs. That's sometimes really hard to do, especially when the current attitude and expectation of our society toward certain types of relationships (such as the parent-child one) tends to front-end-load them with a feeling of responsibility for the way someone else thinks or feels. 

It's an illusion. How someone else reacts to their stuff is not my responsibility. The outcome I want in his or her life is not my responsibility. It's the responsibility of the person with whom I am in relationship. If I hang on - even a little bit - I will end up pushing the person away from the very thing I so desperately want him or her to embrace. 

I know this - deep down. 

I guess I just need more practice.

Wisdom to Discern

It's wonderful to see the transformation in me when I am given the serenity to accept what (and who) I cannot change. It is like ripples in a pond - others are automatically touched when I've found my center and grow in my relationship with myself and with God. 

It's amazing what can happen in my attitudes and interpersonal relationships when God grants me the courage to change the things I can change. 

But discernment ... knowing what things I can change and what things I cannot - that's a bit trickier. Often I spin my wheels trying to change the realities of life because I think I can control them. I can't. I never could. That's why I pray for wisdom. 

Wisdom is one of those "don't-leave-home-without-it" gifts. Everyone has probably heard the story of Solomon, who was considered the wisest man who ever lived. When he became king, God came to him in a dream and told him that he could ask for one thing, and it would be given to him. Solomon's response was one of humility, teachability. "I don't know how to lead this great people. I'm just a kid! Please give me wisdom, so that I can tell what is the right thing to do and what isn't, so that I can lead Your people well." (Judy's paraphrase version.)  Because Solomon asked for wisdom, and not for fame or for riches, God gave him what he asked and then some more beside! Over and over again in the Proverbs, wisdom is the principal theme of Solomon's writings. Plus, it is the one thing in the New Testament that we are promised will be given to anyone freely every time if we ask God for it. (See James 1:5) 

Pinging along from crisis to crisis isn't necessary. When I take the time to ask God for wisdom to know what to do, for direction to decide which way to go, whether to accept what is, or to change something, or even whether to stand still and wait - (hardest. thing. ever.) - and I actually listen for the answer, He opens the door or doors through which I am to go, or provides a place of peace for me to rest. It's uncanny.  

Rainbows remind me
to trust

 A wonderful friend of mine, whom I admire a lot, has - on occasion - called me a wise person. It's high praise and I take it as such ... but the wisdom doesn't come from me; it's a gift. So when she calls me wise, and because I know myself enough to see how far there is yet to go, it reminds me how much I have yet to learn, to apply in my life. And it gives me another gift: a good dose of humility, because I know that without God, I'd be messing up big time. All the time. I know because that's what happens on every occasion when I think I can handle things by myself without any help from Him.

I can't.

Dependence on God (which I've always considered to be the "fear of the Lord" or respect for His wisdom and the fact that He knows all things and has the final say) for me has been the beginning of wisdom, where it starts. In every circumstance, in every area of my life, in every decision with which I am faced, I can ask for wisdom, and it will be given to me, just the right amount at the right moment. 

All I need to do is listen for the answer,  quiet my mind's screaming meamies, and truly expect direction. It will come.  It always comes.

Every time.

Courage to change

I pray the Serenity Prayer. A LOT. 

Sometimes - when I have been struggling with someone else's decisions impacting on my life - I even pray the codependent's version of it: "God, grant me the serenity to accept the people I cannot change, the courage to change the person I can, and the wisdom to know it's me."

Acceptance of things I can't change is one thing.  I talked about that in my last post on this blog.

The other side of the coin, and one which still is a challenge for me just as much as acceptance ever was, is courage to change what I can. 

My responsibility is to work on myself, on my relationship with myself, on my relationship with God, on my relationships with other people. My responsibility - my realm, so to speak - is to concentrate on knowing and being true to my true self.  Not the facade that I am sometimes tempted to dig out and put on, but the real me - the one I am becoming for what is probably the first time in my life. . . at least that I can remember. 

Changing involves hard work - and most of all, courage. 

I find it really interesting that we get the word "courage" from the Latin word for "heart" - in fact, the word "heart" in French (most of which comes from Latin) is cœur. In essence, courage means "heart-fulness." 

That's cool. 

It takes bravery, guts if you will, to live from the fulness of the heart, because the heart can so easily be injured, pierced through with unkindness, rejection, and anger... and so many more things.  

Since I started living this lifestyle of rigorous honesty, of letting go, of being real, ... living from  my heart is one of the main tenets, one of the foundational principles, on which I base my thinking and my decisions.  I pray for courage in my daily life - nearly as much as I pray for serenity. The changes that have come about in my life have been due to having been given the heart-fulness - the courage - to live one day at a time AS ME. Nobody else, no masks or games. I spent the first year of my recovery from being a chameleon, a people-pleaser, a door-mat and a "fixer" ... getting to know that person who I really was, the one who was beneath all the layers of hurt and the walls of self-protection built up over decades of being put down so much that I believed those lies in the core of my being. 

I've said it before and I'll keep saying it ... real healing starts on the inside and goes toward the outside. An exterior change will stay exterior ... and it won't last. I want LASTING transformation. So, I've been focusing on the inside changes - the ones that only those who are closest to me would notice. How I think. How I react to things. What I consider important. What my priorities are. These are the things that will eventually - I believe - show on the outside. It might take some time because the habits of decades take time to reverse. However, they are possible. 

I just need to keep focused on those internal, unseen changes that matter (not the external ones that don't) . . . even when the external ones eventually start showing up.

Live. Today.

One day melds into the next, and each day glides past like precious beads slipping off a string into the abyss of yesterday, escaping from our grasp to be caught no more. 

We talk about living our lives. I talk about it, anyway. But do I really live? or am I just existing?

Existing versus Living

Mediocrity comes in many forms. Life can take on a sort of monotony especially if I spend it waiting for the next big thing to happen: the next paycheck, the next vacation, the next visit, the next long weekend, Christmas, Easter, summer. (Yawn). Routine is a great thing and can give structure to life, but too much routine can make my life blah and uninteresting. I go on auto-pilot, and I end up looking up at the calendar one day, and wondering where the month (or the season) went. Is it really less than six weeks to Christmas Day? Wow! The pressures of expectations for the future can weigh on me and cause me to slip into fretting, worrying about things that haven't happened and may not ever happen! 

I forget to look after myself, to make time for me-care. I look after the urgent things, the things that scream at me to be done while my own insecurities convince me that my needs aren't as important as those things, and they'll get done "eventually." However, "eventually" usually doesn't happen unless I make time for it to happen. By the time I get around to it, something else intrudes and takes precedence. So, I never get around to it! 

Dreams stay dreams. I find it hard to take time to even think about the small steps I want to take in order to put those dreams in motion, and even harder to take the time to actually take those steps.

Life just ... happens. And sometimes it happens without me being aware of it. I get into a rut, and keep doing what I always did, hoping to get a different result. Like that's going to work.

Making a start

Living on auto-pilot is easy; I need to face it. I also need to realize that easy isn't necessarily good. Living intentionally ... is hard. The trick about getting out of that rut is to make a start. It doesn't take a lot of brain power or even a lot of will power. It doesn't even take big changes. It takes a simple decision to put one foot in front of the other, to make tiny changes that are progressive. 

The operative word is Today. Start - today. Begin to live ... now. Not tomorrow. Today.
It's okay to ask for help; it's okay to make mistakes as I go. I can learn to let go of the errors and keep going, rather than give up in frustration. 

Change will happen. The scenery does change. I know it; I feel it. It might not change as fast as I would like, but if I keep making those miniscule choices, I'll look up one day and think to myself, "Hey. That was living!" 

And if that takes a while, perhaps I can just enjoy the journey instead of wishing myself at the finish line all the time. That will happen soon enough. That's the other thing about Today. It's Today; it's not next week, next year, ten years from now. It's today. That's where I can truly live.