Feeling ==> showing

Ever noticed how in some relationships, if you ask each individual, they feel lots of love for the other person but each person feels unloved? Parents and children, spouses, friends, brothers and sisters often fall prey to this seeming roadblock. We love the other person but we are not sure they love us.

The problem is not loving. The problem is SHOWING love. Let me explain.

A teenager loves his parents but they don't really talk much (no common interests, perhaps), and he doesn't know if they really love him because all they seem to do is tell him no. The parents love the teen but they wonder if the teen loves them back because all the teen seems to do is break the rules. Each of them silently asks the question, "Do you still love me?" What a tragedy. 

So on it goes. The problem is not that they don't love each other; they DO! The problem is that they have no idea how to SHOW that love. 

In his book, "How to Really Love Your Teenager", Dr. Ross Campbell, a child psychiatrist, describes this phenomenon and also gives the solution. The answer is in learning to communicate love in a way that the other person will understand. In our Western culture, his advice is sound. He gives three cornerstones to communicating love:

1. Eye contact
2. Physical contact
3. Focused attention

It sounds simple, doesn't it? Yet it can be hard to learn to do. I have learned, however, that it does work. Making the time to talk, and not being distracted by other things, can do a lot to bridge the gaps and repair relationships. Each person needs to know that they matter to the other. You can say it, and yes, please do, but showing it backs up those words. Establishing this kind of relationship early is the best way to ensure that the other person is secure in the relationship, but it is never too late to start.

I'd like to say a few things about each of these cornerstones I mentioned above. Perhaps by giving some examples, I can spark your imagination to try something that would be specific and meaningful to you. You can do them with family members (spouse, kids, parents, siblings) or close friends. They don't just apply to teens. (Everyone needs to feel worthy of love and belonging, as Brené Brown says.)

Eye contact - In our family, the 'wink' - even from across a room - can convey a special meaning. It can mean, "I notice what you're doing, way to go!" Similarly, it can mean, "I'm proud of you." And in certain situations where the person may be nervous, the 'wink' can mean, "I believe in you! You got this!" 

Okay, I know that these days, a lot of teens don't make eye contact well. But they will know that you are looking at them when they talk to you. And in some cases, it's a good bridge-builder to have talks while driving in the car. They don't feel threatened by your gaze, but you can talk about pretty important stuff when you have to be 20 minutes (or longer) in a car going somewhere together. 

But adults? Yeah, we were brought up to pay attention. In our generation, it shows respect when you look at someone who is talking to you.  So show respect. Please. It could save your relationships.

Physical contact - I get it that some folks are not touchy-feely. That's okay. But sometimes a hand on someone's shoulder when they are having a rough day can express in a non-verbal way that you care about their feelings. And nowhere is this more true than in families: with your spouse and with your child(ren). 

In our family, a hug goes a long way. Not just that sterile, pat-pat-pat type of hug but one of those fierce, heart-felt, "I'm with you" hugs. Life is tough sometimes! Hugs can help. They can communicate a feeling of solidarity, support, and caring. I've experienced hugs from one of my family members that lifted me off my feet - and aside from throwing me a little off-balance, those hugs told me that, as a teary Samwise Gamgee said in Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings, when the burden of carrying the One Ring got too much for Frodo to bear, "I may not be able to carry it for you, Mister Frodo, but I can carry you." And Sam picked Frodo up, Ring and all, and carried him the rest of the way to the top of the mountain. Such expression of love and support is hard to show with just a few Hallmark cards a year. 

Focused attention - In our fast-paced, information-highway world, giving someone focused attention takes something we don't think we have: time. Off with the TV, the cell phone, and/or the video game. Make a date. Go somewhere; it doesn't have to cost a dime. Our kids and I used to go to the local public pool; they would play in the water while I watched. Sometimes I would even go in the pool and splash around a bit. But I was always watching them, drinking in their enjoyment, knowing that at any moment they would look back to see if I was looking. And I was. "Watch me, Mommy!" means something to a child. It's important to him or her. I could have sat there with a book but it would not have meant as much as being WITH them, being PRESENT. 

Photo by it's me neosiam from Pexels

I lost track of the times we would go to the animal shelter and just visit with the critters. Our one family rule was that we were there to look and visit the animals, not whine and plead to take one (or all) of them home (unless previously decided.) I remember the folks at the shelter got to recognize us. We obeyed all the shelter rules (no running; ask permission; wash your hands after you handle the animals, etc.) and we had a whole lot of fun. And it never cost us a nickel (or in those days, a penny. We don't have pennies in Canada anymore.) 

I also can't count the number of times I have heard someone say to me about their spouse, "He (or she) never listens to me!" as they described a spouse totally absorbed in the TV or the newspaper, or a computer game. Or some sort of sport or hobby. It's a relationship. You can't have a relationship without relating!! Focused attention means that you give the person your undivided attention. And that needs to happen on a regular basis. I'm not saying not to read the paper, watch TV, or have a hobby or interest. Just make time for the people you love doing something you will both / all enjoy.

One more side-note about spending time together while giving focused attention. You know when you tell your friend, "Yeah, we really should get together sometime," and it doesn't happen for weeks? or even months? Ummm, "sometime" usually doesn't work, especially if you (or your friend) has mental wellness issues. Instead of "sometime," how about "WHEN can we spend time together (or have coffee, or lunch, or an evening)?" Nail down a time and a place. Put it on your appointment calendar. I'm just saying. And I'm talking to me as much as to anyone else.

As 2019 dawns, we might do well to invest our time in strengthening the relationships we have and making connections with the people who mean the most to us. It will be worth it. Trust me.

As good as a rest

They say a change is as good as a rest.

Of course they (whoever "they" are) mean that a change that is more or less positive does as much good as taking a rest from something that is more or less negative. But they don't come out and say it. (Just saying.)

That being said, I've had the opportunity to give that saying a bit of a whirl - and I've just started 'whirling' this week.  I was offered the opportunity to take on a new role at my work for a while.  For how long, I am not sure, but it will be for at least six weeks and could be as long as four months! It involves more responsibility, using skills I haven't used regularly in a long time, and includes learning new skills and knowledge I never had before, and using them 'on the fly.' I spend a lot more time with my electronic calendar than I ever did, and I am so grateful that it is there as a tool for me to use.  A lot of things would fall off the plate without my electronic to-do lists and appointment reminders. (Whew!)

Photo "Daily Planner With Pen" by
BrandonSigma at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

I just finished a week in my new role. Wow. I'm not exactly sure about what the saying says, because it really feels like I've been thrown into the deep end of the pool - and I don't swim. I know that it feels like I have more energy at the end of the work day. However, the down side of this is that it takes me longer to decompress from it before I can attend to my school work.

Having said this, throughout this week I have noticed a few encouraging things about myself.

First, I survived.  Nobody yelled in anger at me.  And I even got some encouraging feedback from more than one person.

Second, I am spending more time up and about.  I am way more active in this new line of work: away from my desk and walking back and forth to talk to this and that person, and bring files to this and that person, I sometimes feel as though I could wear a pedometer and count my job toward my exercise count for the day. That is totally different!

Third, I made mistakes.  I knew I would, and I decided ahead of time that I would adopt a teachable attitude and learn as much as possible ... and if that meant learning from my mistakes, then so be it.   And it has.  And I did. And I'm still in the process of learning - and I don't expect that I will ever stop learning. (I think that is a good sign. It means I'm alive, as my husband says.)  I used to be so afraid of failing. But I've come to understand that failing and making mistakes are two different things.

And making mistakes in procedure and protocol - like I did this week - wasn't the end of the world.  I have a wonderful manager who has taken it upon herself to teach me the ropes of my new role, and today she sat with me and went over some of the duties I had tried to do without direction, and provided that direction. Then she walked me through one of the major tasks in the job, showed me where to find what I needed to do it, told me why it was important to do it that way, and much more.  She corrected me when I told her about something that I had done that was against protocol, and she told me why it was not advisable.  At no time did she ever get angry or scold me. At no time did I ever feel as though she was NOT on my side. In fact, I got the impression that she wanted me to succeed. That was worth a LOT to me. 

Finally, as a result of that meeting today, I think I rounded a corner in understanding how it all fits together and how my cog fits into the machine.  I might still make mistakes (and probably will) but I know that I have good support people, good teachers, and good leaders. I couldn't put a price on that. Slowly it's dawning on me, as I go through this learning curve, that my confidence level is increasing even as I admit how much I have left to learn (and maybe because of it!)  That "beginner's mind" that our counselling class discussed during this past July's Summer Institute has indeed come to my aid.  

I saw this neat Maya Angelou quote that sums it up:  "Do the best you can until you know better. Then, when you know better, do better."  Cool huh? 

Maybe this change - which involves flying high and getting more of a bird's eye view of my work section - is just the rest I needed from the sameness of 'in-the-trenches' work that I was doing before.  I can still do that work (when I have time, and I've been encouraged to do that as well) but I think I can help more people doing what I am doing now. 

That feels good.  It really does.

Press Pause

What a whirlwind the last three weeks has been! I have been in a city that is three thousand miles away from my home, knowing only the people I have met online through my master's program, and often depending on the kindness of strangers, or if not strangers, people who are new to my experience. 

Three weeks ago today, I left behind my office desk with a note on it to not give me new work because I wouldn't be back until nearly the end of July, and I went home to do my final packing. In a way, it was like I pressed "Pause" on my work life.  That world would no longer occupy me for a period of three weeks. And so it has not.  I have become immersed in the atmosphere of students desiring earnestly to develop their skills, just as I am. 

Academically, this has been intense - there has been such a strong component of hands-on practice in what some have dubbed "Summer Intensive" (as opposed to Summer Institute, which it is really called).  I can literally feel my mind expanding as I have gone through these few weeks. I chuckle when I remember how the smallest of skills posed such a problem for me at first, and then, looking back, I wonder what all the fuss was about. My confidence in my abilities has increased exponentially. Yes, academically, it has been a good experience. It will stand me in good stead in my practicum, but that won't happen until 13 months or so from now.

As challenging and invigorating as that has been, physically, it has been exhausting. It took me a few days to realize that I was lagging behind other people and feeling out of breath all the time because I was 3,500 feet higher above sea level than I was used to being! Altitude sickness includes symptoms of fatigue, shortness of breath, acute insomnia, headaches and joint aches ....and I had it all!  It lasted for almost two weeks! About a week after getting here, I was given the opportunity to book a place in residence (on the campus). It turned out to be a good move for me, as I could devote more time to self-care than I had in months. And now, a lot of those aches and pains have disappeared or vastly reduced. I can enjoy the walk to and from class now, and it doesn't tire me out like it used to. And I have even gotten some sunshine in the process! It's like I have finally been able to press Pause, to gather my legs under me, to get my bearings physically.

Emotionally and relationally, this period has been difficult.  I have been confronted with just how much of a jerk I can be sometimes (even moreso when I am feeling tired, weak, and lonely), which has led me to begin to re-evaluate my approach to communication in relationships. That was - and is - a hard (and emotionally expensive) lesson to learn. I have had to press Pause, to reflect on a lot of things surrounding my insecurities and fears about how to be a friend and whether I have the ability to be true to who I am and say how I feel without being afraid of making someone mad at me. I sense that this will be a long Pause. There is a lot to work through.

And then there's the homesickness!! WOW have I ever suffered from that!! Especially in the last week, I have been (as my prof described to me) "off" - not quite on my game, if you will. And that has simply been a function of homesickness combined with the stress of public speaking without the benefit of either raised stage or microphone.  (Let me tell you, that is a totally different ball game...) But mostly it's just been that being away from my loved ones is wearing on me, and I just can't wait to see them again!!  I went to timeanddate.com to create a countdown for not only the plane landing back home, but also for it taking off from here.  What's that you say? I got it bad? Yeah you bet!! 

Health-wise, this has been a pleasant pause. I am strengthening my lifestyle choices regarding eating and activity level, and have learned that I CAN look after myself (and yes, medication helps) and eventually beat my health challenges. My sugars are ALMOST back to normal and I feel less draggy and tired than I was two short months ago when I was first diagnosed with diabetes. I can foresee a day when things will be completely under control and I will be able to get back to activities that I had to give up because it was just too uncomfortable and/or tired to do them. (Golf, folks. I was talking about golf.  And horseback riding. Tsk!) 

Photo "Stone And Sand Background" courtesy
of gubgib at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

And now I get ready to press another Pause.  After this weekend, I will be officially finished this course and won't have to start another until September - and even then, instead of two courses, I will only be taking one. August is a month I look forward to simply because it is a breather from the constant need to stay on top of a pretty intense school routine added onto an already full plate of work and home (not to mention sleep, nutrition, and activity).  One less thing to focus on gives me a slight break in that routine. I'm thankful for that; it will give me a chance to reconnect with my friends and spend time with my family.

That way, when September comes and I release that Pause button, I will be energetic enough to dance to the music again. 

Joy - Hope - Peace

Several years ago, a friend at work gave me three little brass-toned Christmas ornaments; each is a single word.  One says "Joy"; one says "Hope" and the third says "Peace."  I hang them up every year on my cubicle wall, among other decorations I have accumulated over the years.  

Two Christmases ago, scarcely two months after our youngest daughter passed away, it was hard to put up those decorations.  It was hard to do much of anything.  Another friend at work decided to honour our Arielle (after first checking it with me) by giving out snowflake ornaments to everyone who came to our unit Christmas luncheon.  Although I don't normally attend such functions, I did agree to go - and it was so meaningful.  Since that time, several people have told me that they put up their snowflake every Christmas and think of me and of Arielle's story.  That touches my heart.  Her story needs to be told, and remembered.

Arielle's favorite holiday was Christmas.  She loved the lights and the colours, she loved the tinsel and the carols, she loved the crowds of people, and she loved all the feasting and family traditions we had.  And yes, it doesn't get any easier to go through our family traditions without her.

Image "Festive Snowflakes" by
Victor Habbick at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

I will say, though, that during the holidays, the presence of friends as dear as family does make a difference. It gives us a reason to carry on those traditions and still honour Arielle's memory without becoming too despondent.  She would never want that anyway.  She hated for people to be sad around her.

This year, for some reason (and I have my theories as to why), there was some of that old spark that I used to feel around this time of year - not an excitement, but more like a little inner pleasure as I prepared Christmas gifts and cards for those who are dear.  I find myself looking forward to baking my deep-dish pumpkin pie the night before, and cooking that Christmas supper meal I have planned ... sharing food, friendship, and fellowship with friends and family ... is that joy?  

I also find myself feeling somewhat rejuvenated, since simplifying my life and reducing the amount of stress I was experiencing, de-stressing over a period of the last seven months on a couple of different fronts - and with the reduction in stress and hectic-ness, comes the perspective of hope ... that quiet confidence that all is happening as it needs to happen ... and that the future will be better.  Part of me is amazed that this would be the case; after years of striving to experience hope, it should light upon me like a butterfly once I stopped striving.

What is surprising most of all is the sense of calm that surrounds me at such times; I have noticed it occasionally as I have looked after myself and refused to entertain any kind of performance anxiety.  I noticed it again tonight as I put the final decorating touches on the tree, and then leisurely tuned the television to the fireplace channel and listened to soft Christmas music playing - everything from the Nutcracker to Silent Night.  Yes ... yes, it is peace.

Pervading all of it is an underlying current - one that is growing stronger as time goes on - that growing knowledge that I am loved unconditionally.  It is that love which saturates down into the core of me, where all those insecurities mill around and wreak havoc.  As I am less and less exposed to people, places and things that feed those insecurities, I sense and accept more of that love, and it (in turn) produces joy ... and hope ... and peace.

Hurry Up and Wait

Last night I took the plunge. I applied for admission into a graduate-level university program. 

I've been talking about doing this for a couple of months, and since the decision to "move up" my start date from spring 2014 to fall 2013, it's occupied more of my thoughts and my time.

The deadline for applications for students wishing to begin their program in the fall semester is July 31. So lately, knowing that time can pass quickly, I have been in "hurry up" mode. I had conversations with potential referees, worked on my application letter, reviewed my finances (several times) and slowly, things started to fall into place.

I realized a couple of evenings ago that I had compiled everything that I was responsible to get together except a copy of my curriculum vitae (resume). Since my old Mac computer had all the versions I had for use at home (and since it is now "toast" and I'm using a Windows 8 platform which won't read the jump drive I had made containing all my documents), I had to remind myself to send a copy of the resume I have at work to my home email, which I did yesterday. And last night, after a long day at work, I still couldn't wait (ummm, see the title) to start working on it to take out job-specific jargon and replace it with information that anyone could understand. 

Before I knew it, it was after midnight. I had started my application online, and I was attaching my c.v. and my application letter to it and hitting submit - when it hit me. 

I was doing this. I was really doing this. 

It's a peculiar feeling: uneasy, unsure, hopeful, nervous, excited, scared, and determined all in one big ball of "I don't know what to call this." Me, who is almost never at a loss for words - especially in print. 

Part of me was freaking out. Just plain freaking out. That same part of me still is. My life will change so much - if they accept my application - in the next few months; what I do in the run of a day will barely resemble my "normal" routine now. It will be a LOT of work - and I will not have much time to do much of anything except work and study. 

For a while, I remind myself. Only for a while. 

Until that starts, though, I am back to waiting. A frenzy of activity and then .... nothing. Zippo. The only things missing from my application are things I don't have any control over: my transcript being forwarded to the institution and my references sending in their recommendations for my candidacy. 

Photo "Daily Planner With Pen" courtesy of
BrandonSigma at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

So, June will most likely be spent doing just what I'm doing now - only with the added flavor of anticipation and all those other things I mentioned (in varying degrees on various days or moments). 

And I'll be checking my email more often. 

I'm sure that other projects will come along to occupy my mind between now and the time I hear back from the university. Life does go on: my daughter is still recovering from surgery and learning to walk again (so impressed with her determination!), there are a couple of previously scheduled renovation projects that are happening in the next couple of weeks, and the weather is warming up (finally) so I'll be taking more time to appreciate that, because it lasts such a very short time here! 

And there is a lot to be said for the slogan, "One day at a time." (Sometimes, it's "One moment at a time"!) For today, I get to spend time with my husband and daughter, and run a few errands in town, and weed out my closet and all the tubs of clothing that I had set aside last fall. 

That ... I can do. I don't even have to hurry up. OR wait. 

A Nothing Day

Today is another "snow day" - we might have about three a year where I live (in the Maritimes of Canada). This is the second one in a couple of weeks, timed (conveniently) to land on a weekend and give us a little longer to enjoy time with family and friends.

It's one of those kinds of days I used to call "a nothing day." Nothing gets done, nothing is open, nothing much happens. 

"Fireplace" - a photo by adamr at|
www.FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Yet I need - especially in winter - "a nothing day" once in a while. It's a time to think, dream, reflect. It's an opportunity to spend quality time with spouse, children, friends. The slow-cooker is doing a roast; I'll soon be starting a batch of home-made bread and rolls to combat the inevitable, "oh-I-forgot-to-get-bread" (or whatever you invariably run out of when there's a storm). It's so relaxing for me ... baking ... and I don't get much of a chance to do it anymore.  I find myself looking forward to it - as long as it's a "want-to" rather than a "have-to" thing. Making bread is therapeutic for me. I do it from scratch because there's something about feeling the dough between my fingers and watching it respond to my touch ... that ignites a creative spark in me.

As I was writing this post, I didn't even want to turn on the TV, at least not to watch any shows. So, I turned it on, and muted it, and put it on the "Fireplace Channel." Even if there is no fireplace in our living room, the continual do-loop of video showing a crackling fire does give a rather warm ambiance to the space, an air of peace and civility, and of a refuge in an otherwise cold and harsh atmosphere. At some point during the day, I will probably listen to some André Gagnon - like his Neiges (perfect for a winter's respite, you can even hear the wind howling outside). 

The silence, the absence of hustle and bustle, the ability to do what I want when I want to do it, these all recharge my inner batteries and nourish my inner me. Everyone needs that mental / spiritual break. I was going to say "once in a while" but ... I think it's more "on a regular basis" ...

I guess I'll watch the fire a little longer ... and then go start making some dough.

After the miracle comes

In my last blog post, I talked about my friend whose faith through a trial has been tenacious. Of course, the amazing happened in her life and God really showed Himself strong in her situation when all seemed hopeless. Here is an account of her miracle, and a few comments on it. 

And now that she has received her impossible dream-come-true, like Henny Penny from the fairy tale by Andersen, she looked around and found that nobody from the circle of friends she expected has lifted a finger to help her rid herself of the vestiges of her old life and get started in a new one. A new group of friends pitched in their time and resources to help her. But as she sat across our supper table from me last evening, she shook her head and said, "Nobody from [XXXXX] even showed up." 

I tried to make excuses for the group she mentioned, but it was tough, you know? Everyone makes time for what is important to him/ her. 

Snowflakes - miracles in themselves

Yet ... this time has been great for her to strengthen friendships with those who really do care about her and about her happiness and who show it. I've had priceless opportunities to put "skin" on my platitudes and actually roll up my sleeves and invest a little "sweat equity" into the relationship. 

Am I stiff and sore this morning? Oh yeah. Do I regret digging deep into two of my most precious commodities - time and energy - to help her? 

Absolutely not. In fact, I've been encouraged by her excitement, even challenged by her getting into the "Christmas spirit" (something I haven't felt for years, except in fleeting moments, nothing sustained) and wanting to decorate her place for the holidays. Everything feels so fresh and new, and her gratitude for God's goodness is tangible. 

It is wonderful that so many have had the blessing of praying for her and being able to take part - in some small way - in what God did for her. But it would have been nice to not have left the other, more practical things, for others to do. 

There are a lot of ads on TV these days about child sponsorship and giving a goat to a family half-way around the world. But what about the person who lives in our city, goes to our church perhaps, who is living below the poverty line and who struggles to make ends meet? who has to choose between food and electricity? What about the homeless in our own back yard? What about "at-risk" families in our province or state who don't have enough money to buy Christmas presents or school supplies or shoes for their kids? 

I'm talking to me, too. Ouch!

I know of some families who have given up on buying each other gifts for Christmas and who donate their time at the soup kitchen, or who donate the money they would have spent on Christmas shopping ... to turkey drives or the food bank. Thinking "outside the boxes" beneath the tree might do a lot of good for people who need help; it would also let them know that someone cares for them in a way that surpasses platitudes. And the thing about giving in that way is: it not only meets a need in someone's liife, but it helps the one who gives ... in ways that can't be measured. 

It might even spark some Christmas spirit. 

The pain drain

Ever noticed that things that you would normally not mind seem to bother you more when you're in pain?

I have.  I've been in pain - not severe, but pretty much constant - for the last few months now.  Just when I think I'm getting ahead and can do more, it hits again and I'm down for the count - and the simplest, stupidest things can set it off.  Like turning to look at something by twisting around instead of moving my feet. (OW!  ... Grr.)  

And the pain (as I was saying in my opening) wears at you.  Even when other things take your attention and you forget the pain is there, one move and it reminds you that it has you. You become more irritable, less patient.  Your tolerance for everyday annoyances becomes practically non-existent.  At least mine does.  

And that can lead to some pretty stinking thinking.  Negativity.  Snappishness.  Resentments.  Or acute (and by that I don't mean clinical) depression.  

Those things creep up behind you when you've been strong (or tried to be strong) for a long time, and they grab you by the throat, sometimes through the most innocent of circumstances.  It takes a lot of acceptance and courage to let it go and to trust God when there seems to be no end in sight.  Especially when the feeling that you're being targeted, singled out, and attacked seems so overwhelmingly real.  

It's precisely BECAUSE the pain is always there, like a slow leak in your gas tank...  that when the ups and downs of life happen (as they do to everyone) they seem to require more of you or leave you running on empty.  

And you feel guilty for taking time so often to fill up, to look after your own needs instead of everyone else's. So you don't ... and the cycle starts all over again.  

I can't stress it enough.  Self-care is so very important.  You are the only you that you have, and if you're not at 100%, guess what. You're going to need rest, recharging, refueling more often.  There's no shame in admitting that you need rest, help, quiet, a hot bath, a walk (or a saunter, or a waddle in my case) in the park, a movie, a night out, or whatever it is that rejuvenates you. 

It's not a luxury.  It's an essential.

It's essential because you're you.  Okay, if you want other reasons, it's also because you can't give away what you don't have... so if others are depending on you (for whatever reason) you won't have the resources to help them if you're not looking after yourself. 

I've put myself in last place for so long that the habit is really hard to break. You know the habit I mean.  Put the food on everyone else's plate first (after all, it's polite.) Put everyone else's schedule first and fit your stuff in (if at all) at the end when you're spent from looking after their comings and goings. Spend money on everyone else at the store but not you; after all, there's no money left to spend, right? 

Carving out time for yourself is HARD.  It feels awkward.  You feel kind of guilty, ashamed of even admitting that you have needs, let alone taking steps toward meeting them.  That's the old messages of manipulation from your childhood creeping in, things you heard at school, from relatives, in church.  Silencing those voices is difficult and at first, they will be loud.  Very loud.  Attune your internal sensors to pick up the wistful whispers from your inner child, the one that always had to wait, always got the leftovers, always was overlooked. 

It doesn't mean that you're selfish.  It means that you have your priorities in the right order.  Your relationship with God. Then your relationship with YOU. THEN your relationship with others.  

And one more thing.  (This was tough for me, and it still is.)  Embrace the word "No."

I think that tonight, I need to spend some time with a few close friends in an accepting atmosphere, and I know just where to find that.  :D

"Me" time

It's been pretty stressful the last little while in a lot of areas for me: work, home, church, family relationships.  Lots of change.  Lots of uncertainty.

The stress can really get to me when I am not rested, when I've allowed the tyranny of Just One More Thing to take over.  So the last couple of weeks I have been taking every opportunity to make a little "me" time.  After a couple of days of much-needed time off from work and a change of duties, I find myself able to make small jokes where I couldn't have before that time.  Dealing with the changes in my personal life and family relationships has been challenging as well. But I do remember the principles of recovery from codependency - that it's important to make time for me because self-care is the first step to setting healthy boundaries.  

So earlier today I found myself coming back from picking up some lunch (and carrying it back to my desk - which is another issue) when I heard music coming from the other side of the door that led to the stairwell.  Singing, to be exact. Our department has a choir that sings for Veterans in nursing homes and other places. So I decided to stop, go into the stairwell and eat my lunch while I listened to the Canada Remembers Chorus practice their next performance.  It only took about ten minutes, tops, but that little interlude left me going back to my desk with a smile on my face.

Later, after work, hubby picked me up and we turned our attention to where we might go on our weekly "date" which has been a fixture since the children were old enough to look after each other at home without us.  Instead of the usual haunts, we decided to hop in the vehicle and head about 35 miles away to one of our favorite restaurants - just because we like it there and this was our night. What a lovely treat it was to be able to do something out of the ordinary. 

This photo taken last summer, late August 2011

Right now, he's out doing something he loves doing ever since last summer when our daughter and her boyfriend presented him with a ride-on lawnmower. Yes, he's mowing the lawn, wearing his hearing-protection earmuffs, with a huge grin all over his face.  I'm smiling just thinking about it.

It's those little things that count, those things that tell us that we matter, that God cares enough to give us not only what we need, but sometimes what we want - those times when we are reminded that life can be fun ... and good ... and not sucky.  

Sometimes we just have to be intentional about looking after our own needs.  It's okay to do that.  It's okay to make some "me" time if we need to. We're people too; we're not invincible. I had forgotten how easy it is to slip back into those old patterns of behaving where I'd put my own need for nurturing aside and nurture someone else's stuff at my own expense, over-extend myself, and then resent the person not only for not appreciating it, but for coming to expect it!! I've had to remind myself lately that I can't do it all perfectly the first time.  And that when someone has a problem with something I do, I can acknowledge the feelings of hurt, frustration and anger that I might have, and then focus on what needs to happen so that I don't do that again or so that the person who gave me the bad news learns a more tactful way to give bad news. ;)  And to remember that what I DO doesn't define who I AM.  Huge lesson!  One I have to relearn over and over again.

When I make more time for me, though, it reduces my stress and allows me to stay grateful for the many blessings in my daily life.  Not the least of which is the ability to make some time for me in my busy schedule.  ;)

Slow Down

For the past month or more at work, I noticed myself having less and less endurance to see tasks through to completion; I'd do them of course, but I had to really concentrate to do them.  I was more easily frustrated, and little things bothered me more: non-work sounds, interruptions, paper jams, and so forth.  It carried over at home too.  

About half-way through that period of time, I finally figured out what was the matter.  I was tired.  Not just the "I didn't sleep well last night" kind of tired but the "approaching burn-out" kind of tired because of a multitude of things: sleep deficit, added stresses, feelings of loss and uncertainty, and adjusting to changes in the workplace and at home, just to name a few.  To borrow a term from Star Wars, my "motivator" wasn't functioning properly.

So I began a countdown to vacation.  I'm not sure exactly why, but it helped me get through those last couple of weeks, spurred me on to achieve closure. On those tasks I just couldn't complete because I was relying on someone else's timetable, I did what I could and then left behind a status list on the various files still "in progress."  So when I left the office for my vacation, it was with a mind uncluttered by all those loose ends I should have tied up.  That way, I could not only leave the workplace physically, I could leave it mentally.  

Everyone needs a break now and then, a rest from the mundane and the hundred frittering things - and the urgent things - that intrude on what's really important.  It's a reminder that while it might feel like we're in a rat race, we are not rats and it's not a race.  Someone commented on the futility of that things-oriented mentality a few years ago in a bumper sticker which said, "The one who has the most toys when he dies, wins."  

More than any other year that I can remember, vacation this year has been a time to put the hamster-wheel in my mind in "Park" and go do something else, look after me, do things I like to do, and enjoy my family.... to slow down.  I've had time to rest, rejuvenate, and reflect.  To give myself permission to recuperate.  

And after a few days of sleeping in until after 9 a.m., finally my body woke up this morning and said, "Okay - now I'm rested.  So what are we going to do today?"  I got up and went for a walk - by myself - for the first time in years. When I got back, I did a couple of chores, showered, and woke up hubby.  Then I did something else I like - I cooked breakfast, and ate it with hubby, lingering long over coffee and conversation.  Some of these things I don't get to do when I'm working.  Now that I feel more rested, my "motivator" works again and I have a whole list of things I want to get done before I go back to work.  But I know that if they don't get done today, that's okay - I'll do what I can do and then I can allow myself to rest without feeling guilty. 

It's allowed.

First Things

I heard this story a few years ago, and I was reminded of it a few hours ago as I sat in a chapel attending the funeral of a dear friend.

Here's the story:

A professor went into a 2nd-year medical school classroom and placed a large empty glass container on his desk, in full view of the students.  "Is this container full?" he asked them.

Confused, they answered no, it was not full.  Then he took some large stones from under the desk and placed them inside the container, right up to the top.  "Is it full now?"  he asked.  

About half of them said yes; half said no.  Then he took another container of pebbles and poured them into the container, shaking the container to make the pebbles filter downward. They filled up the spaces between the stones.  "Is it full now?"

More people caught on. About 3/4 of them said it wasn't full.  He then got a container of sand and poured that into the container with the stones and pebbles. "What about now?" he said.  Most of them said no, it wasn't full yet.

Finally he took a large container of water and poured until everything was wet right up to the top of the container.  "Is it full now?"

Everyone agreed it was.

Then he said, "So what has this object lesson taught us?"

A young woman raised her hand.  "As doctors we are going to be very busy," she said, "but as busy as we are, there will always be room to cram one more thing into our schedules."


"No," said the professor.  "The point is that if you don't put the big rocks in FIRST, they won't fit."

That story comes to my rescue sometimes. 

Much of what goes on in our lives is geared toward making the sand fit first (making money, doing more things, even good things) ...which doesn't leave room for the important things.


Things "fit" so much better when the important things like kindness, mercy, and love are our primary foundation, our first focus.  Then we find that the other things can be added ... and in the right proportions.

Life's way too short to major on minors or to try to shove the big things into our lives after the petty little things have already taken up squatter's rights in our thinking process.


How many times have I missed opportunities to do the right thing while trying to do the most pressing thing?  Behaved out of a knee-jerk reaction rather than thoughtful, prayerful response?  Expected the worst instead of listened to the reasons why someone did or said something? I've lost count.

Today was a reminder to make the best things foundational - and allow the rest of the things to settle into their proper place.  

Retired?

The old joke goes, "I'm retired.  I'm tired today and I'll be tired again tomorrow."

The hope that most people have of retirement is more time to do the things that we enjoy doing, like recreation, travel, more time spent with family and friends, resting in a hammock, taking naps.

It's all an illusion.  That only happens to the ones born with silver spoons in their mouths, who have servants and six-figure retirement incomes.

The "lazy" stereotype is bunk too.  

I have spent the last two weeks trying to keep up with my husband, who's been retired since October 2009.

I'm tired!  The guy rarely has three hours at a stretch to himself, is driving this kid here and that kid there, doing errands in town, housework at home (yes, God has blessed me richly!), and miscellaneous tasks like looking after the maintenance of the house, shoveling snow, scraping windshields, scheduling appointments... in short, it sounds just like everything that a young stay-at-home mother does.  But he's not a young stay-at-home mother; he's a 58-year-old man with high blood pressure, arthritis in one knee and the foot on the same side, lumbar disc disease, and half the income he used to have.  He doesn't have money so we can go golfing together, which we love to do when we get the chance.  There's no money left over after the bills are paid to go on vacations to tropical climates. 

Yet he's happy (if a little harried) at the end of a day.  He might not think he accomplishes much in the run of a day but ... it's pretty difficult to match his activity level, which has easily tripled since he retired!  And truth be told, part of me is looking forward to getting back to work so I can get some rest from just trying to keep pace with him!

Here's a toast to you, my love; I raise my coffee mug to you.  I'm so very glad to have you back again: the real you!

I've watched you closely for nearly the last two years in your recovery from your addiction, and have seen you blossom into the honest, loving, sensitive, generous man I fell in love with all those years ago.  

I've seen you connect with our kids and give them a safe place to land, unselfishly giving of your time and your resources to give them the best possible foundation on which to build their lives.  They love you to bits, you know.

I've watched in joy as you have developed and maintained relationships, budding friendships with more people than you ever thought possible.  Life is full for both of us - and given the choice between the life of luxury most people hope for when they think of retirement, and just spending time with you...

I'd choose you any day.