Category: love

anxiety, friendship, life lessons, love, mindfulness, parenting

When The Heart Just Hurts

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“Life will break you.  Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won’t either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning.  You have to love.  You have to feel.  It is the reason you are here on earth.  You are here to risk your heart.  You are here to be swallowed up.  And when it happens that you are broken or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit under an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps wasting their sweetness.  Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could.”   — Louise Erdrich

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I  had different plans for this post – we attended my daughter-in-law’s graduation yesterday, the day before was a banner day at the barn.  I can’t get there right now.  My heart returns to the unfathomable shock of yesterday’s disaster in Newtown.  I can’t turn away for to do so would diminish the feeling of being inconsolable.  I pray that these families tasted abundant sweetness and that they are enveloped in love and support.  My tears drip on the keyboard – I can’t write about the loss of life itself…one can plan I suppose, though arguably it is better to hope.

anxiety, discretion, friendship, humor, inspiration, leadership, life lessons, love, management, mindfulness

Tell It To Me Straight

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248331366923238052_jpHEv0sP_cEveryone I know insists that they want to hear the truth.  I’m not sure everyone I know is being completely honest about this.  In fact, I think that most people prefer to hear selective truths.  I’ll go so far as to suggest that we all filter certain realities just so we can wrap our heads around their implications.

– I believe that my bathroom scale is digitally confused and vindictive – swinging wildly between two weights – one I can live with, the other requiring that I eschew food for the next year.

– I believe we’re all a little neurotic.

– I believe that I’m really not getting shorter, rather the units of measurement have changed since I was a young girl and no one told me.

– I believe that the answers to global warming, cancer, Parkinson’s, Alzheimer’s and world peace are moment’s away from being discovered.  And by this I mean, short moments.

– I believe in miracles.  It all depends on your definition of ‘miracles’.

– I believe that continuing to nest even after your kids have grown, married and established homes of their own, is absolutely fine.

– I believe it’s still ok to keep a pair of sneakers in the garage even though I’ve been married for decades and adore my husband.

– And I absolutely believe it’s ok to cry at Hallmark commercials.

On a more serious note, my reality includes the belief  that every dog has its day – and I’m not talking about canines here.  Somewhere along the way, people who intentionally demean or devalue others will be subject to a painful lesson or two.  Whether they get anything out of it or not, is something else entirely.  Given that this reality developed early in my professional career (perhaps as a way of dealing with a perverted boss who routinely made sexual overtures, comments, etc),  I encourage leaders to read this as a cautionary reminder.  If you surround yourself with people who tell you only what you want to hear, and not what you should hear, and agree to follow directives that are questionable and potentially ill-conceived, you will become a person that even you would not want to follow.  If you can’t effectively develop your people, you’re not a leader.  And of course when the day comes when you realize that people are following you because they are paid a lot of money to do it, you will understand that core values have flown the coop, along with respect, loyalty and collaboration.  Yes, I’m still passionate about this.  I’ve been in too many conversations with too many people lately who are feeling the effects of uninspired  oversight.

I realize I just broke one of my unwritten rules – not to write about leadership or management anymore.  My apologies.  I guess I believe that reality can be adjusted every once in a while to accommodate that which is scratching at your heart.

And at the end of the day, I believe that there are very few pure truths – though admittedly there are some.  What I feel when enveloped in a hug, the way I can make Andy laugh until his stomach hurts, the way the ‘I love you’s’ from my kids can grab me by the throat.  The tender velvet of a horse’s nose, the reality that gravity and I are really no longer friends, the magnificence of a cardinal posing in a fir tree.

Regardless of what you choose to accept or deny, I do believe that ultimately life has a way of working itself out.  I may not be around to see it, I may not participate in the moment – but believe me – today I choose to accept the reality that everything is going to be just fine.

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anxiety, discretion, friendship, inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness, motivation

Sometimes The Lesson Isn’t Yours

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One of my friends is anticipating the publication of her book, “The Poor Man’s Feast”.  I don’t have an advance copy, but I have advanced knowledge of the author – I’ve known her since she was one of my campers (the fact that we are now peers seems generationally impossible – and yet…).  If you ever need additional delight in your day, check out her blog of the same name.

Lissie’s book is an autobiographical account of her life with family, friends and food.  They are inextricably connected and her stories both amuse and intrigue; her recipes (some of which I have tried) are drool-worthy.  You would think that she would be reveling in the excitement of this achievement.  Certainly those of us who love her are celebrating her success with choruses of encouragement and congratulations.  And yet, Lissie has worries that are not hers to own.

Yesterday she wrote me about some recent familial experiences which have prompted anxiety about the anticipated reaction of some of her relatives to her book.  Although names have been changed and she has the talent to allow her voice to ring with sincerity and love, she is fretting about some of the less-than-kind comments that have come her way lately from some members of her tribe.  I think my response to her was incomplete, despite my efforts to be supportive.

Another friend of mine is trying to find her sea legs after being upended by the tragic impact of Hurricane Sandy.  The family business was seriously damaged, requiring too much negotiation through the bureaucratic nightmare that governmental agencies and insurance companies seem to require.  Perhaps perseverance is a an unwritten rule prior to receiving relief – they winnow out the weak who give up with resignation and despair.  Not Jo – give her a cause and she will rally passionately.  Which is all well and good unless your heart feels like it’s being cracked in the process.  And though the plant is officially up and running, the residual emotional exhaustion is a toll no one should have to pay.  You’d think high premiums and ridiculous deductibles would be enough, wouldn’t you?

And another friend who is self-employed, ponders daily about what she should be doing or could be doing to bring in more business.  How to effect a paradigm shift in companies who are holding onto stasis as a dog might covet a bone.  As she expends hour upon hour considering alternative and creative ways of changing mind-sets, she ends up questioning herself and works hard to avoid the temptation of an abyss of self-doubt.

What do these situations all have in common (other than my incredible love and respect for these women)?  The search for meaning.  The gnawing, relentless question of how to contort one’s self to fit into a current reality.  But what if these aren’t questions for us?  Perhaps these aren’t our lessons to learn, rather the lessons for those around us.  What if this is a lesson for Lissie’s family – to learn (or not) the ways we love and accept and delight in another’s gifts?  For others to learn the adverse impact that a non-stop revolving door has on customers who have placed their trust in your promised services?  And a company to learn that nothing from nothing really does leave nothing, and in order to thrive you have to change that which is obsolete and ineffective?

Sounds simple, but on a very fundamental level, I think it’s hard to grasp.  We choose to think that every lesson is for our edification.  And though I believe that we do ourselves a great injustice when we miss those instructive moments, I think we do ourselves an equally profound disservice by thinking that each life lesson is somehow karmically presented for us.  Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar; sometimes an ‘a ha’ moment is designed for someone else and we are just bit players in their story.

Perhaps I write this because I so want my friends to be happy.  Because I think each of these women is so phenomenal and loving and talented and smart that nothing but joy should govern their days.  Maybe though it is a message for us all – the sacrilege of stating that not all of the universe’s intent is for our benefit.  And in those moments, when we accept with humility that it is about others, we can offer the greatest example of what we have already learned – to love.

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anxiety, friendship, inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness, motivation

It’s All So Simple – When It Isn’t So Complicated

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Yesterday was my first experience volunteering with the non-profit Lift Me Up.  I got to the barn over an hour before my official ‘start’ time.  In part my timing was off because I mis-read the instructions;  my subconscious though was clearly insistent on spending some time in the quiet of the morning communing with the horses.

Frenchie knickered when I arrived and was rewarded with a couple of carrots (this is me – of course I had brought carrots along). We nuzzled over the fence for a little while and I was overcome with emotion.  Horses are inextricably tied to memories of time spent with my dad – riding with him and/or my sister, lesson after lesson with Mr. Gardner as he scolded me when I missed the lead found in the horse’s hooves (I would be looking at my father – always seeking that goofy smile of his), Gold Nugget (the most beautiful Palomino in the universe).  I sat on a fence, feeling the sun greet the morning and watching the horses in their pastures anticipate the arrival of their morning hay.  As each bale was dropped I watched them argue and tussle over who had dibs, bucking with the feistiness born of indignation and bluster.

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I don’t think there is anything more glorious than an early morning sun, the smell of fresh hay and eavesdropping on conversations between old equine friends.  I could have stayed like that all day and felt like I had been given the gift of golden memories and magical mornings combined in a perfect olio.

Ironically, I ended up bringing the largest horse in for the morning’s work.  Nyles is a beautiful, mouthy guy, who likes to nibble on your sweatshirt, hair and anything else within touching distance.  He’s a big guy and I couldn’t even see the top of the head of the other volunteer who helped me with grooming.  So, I sang quietly to Nyles as I tended to him with the requisite different types of combs  and brushes.  And not to put too fine a point on it – but yes, we kissed.  I kissed quite a lot yesterday (and I think I already have a favorite in Elmo, who truly does return the kiss).  And all would have been well if I could have just spent the day like this.

“Who are you?”

“No one of consequence.”

“I must know.”

“Get used to disappointment” — William Goldman

The volunteers couldn’t have been more indifferent to me and more importantly to the riders scheduled for therapy.  With great discomfort, I introduced myself to everyone, tried to make the requisite small talk and failed miserably.  Ok, this experience isn’t about me.  I struggled physically with the need to keep my body twisted towards Nyles while consciously maintaining weight on the rider’s leg.  A lovely, profoundly challenged man, he shouted with delight while on Nyles’ back, though he was unable to sustain holding the reins or fully balancing himself (it was clear that he was learning more about balance, and with some assistance to dismount, was damn graceful once I was able to move his leg back and over the saddle).  He laughed most of the hour and when he would make eye contact with me,  he’d also try and lean forward to touch my head.

As we walked, I would talk to the rider and sing to Nyles.  Or perhaps it was vice versa.  It is no exaggeration when I write that I was the only one who spoke to this lovely man.  Or the horse.  The volunteers spoke to each other about various aches, pains, marital issues and competed to see who had the most comprehensive knowledge of the barn’s tenants.

When Nyles was done working, we brought him back to pasture.  The next hour I spent with another gentleman and Valentine (a horse with a fair amount of gravitas and a limited supply of grace).   He was able to hold the reins and balance well, which was a selfish relief, for at this point I was struggling with my own body’s resistance to the efforts from the first session.  And my heart was hurt from feeling dismissed by the other volunteers.  Believe me, I know this is a function of being new and having tenured people watch as well-intended folks come and go without commitment or comment.  It is as reflective of my insecurity as it is their indifference.  But I was disappointed for a bit.  And worried as I walked into the house looking like a bent, pained old woman.  Can I hold up my end of the bargain even with some limitations?

The answer remains unclear.  I know I will go back next week and look forward to seeing my equine friends and riders, if not my colleagues.  I don’t cave that easily and I have yet to wave the white flag when my body wimps out.  So the odds are good it isn’t going to happen this time either.  I know the challenges of working in the non-profit world, I just need to find the rhythm so I move with its gait and not against it.

I gave Frenchie a good-bye carrot and nuzzle and headed home, my senses heightened by such a powerful exposure to the morning and my heart a muddle.  I’m not buying a new pair of paddock boots just yet, but I’ve already made a note to buy some apples for next week.

White horse in field
White horse in field (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
discretion, friendship, inspiration, leadership, life lessons, love, motivation

An Oldie But A Goodie

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“1.  Name the five wealthiest people in the world.

2.  Name the last five Heisman trophy winners.

3.  Name the last five winners of Miss America.

4.  Name ten people who have won the Nobel or Pulitzer Prize.

5.  Name the last half-dozen Academy Award winners for best actor and actress.

6.  Name the last decade’s worth of World Series winners,

How did you do?

The point is, none of us remember the headliners of yesterday.  These are no second-rate achievers.  They are the best in their fields.  But the applause dies.  Awards tarnish.  Achievements are forgotten.  Accolades and certificates are buried with their owners.

Here’s another quiz.  See how you do on this one:

1.  List a few teachers who aided your journey through school.

2.  Name three friends who have helped you through a difficult time.

3.  Name five people who have taught you something worthwhile.

4.  Think of a few people who have made you feel appreciated and special.

5.  Think of five people  you enjoy spending time with.

Easier?

The lesson:

The people who make a difference in your life are not the ones with the most credentials, the most money or the most awards.  They are the ones who care.” — Charles Shultz

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Enough said.

 

discretion, friendship, humor, inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness, motivation

It’s All About Perspective

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“How many slams in an old screen door?

Depends how loud you shut it.

How many slices in a bread?

Depends how thin you cut it.

How much good inside a day?

Depends how good you live ’em.

How much love inside a friend?

Depends how much you give ’em.” — Shel Silverstein

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We can make life so complicated, can’t we?  Sometimes it just helps to bring it back to the basics – like breathing.  Are our breaths long and full, interrupted with a giggle or even a belly laugh?  Or do we tend to breathe in short inhalations and exhalations, anticipating our next moves before completing the steps right in front of us?  We know which is better for us, I guess it just depends on how important it is to us.

Today I’m off for my ‘barn’ tour.  I am hoping to volunteer with an organization called “Lift Me Up” – their mission involves the use of animal therapy (primarily horses) when working with developmentally challenged children and young adults.  It feels like a good fit for me on many levels – having experience with people who have unique needs (I’m not talking about attorneys here) and horses.  It’s time to pay a little rent for the gift of being here in the first place – and this is also a way to up my happy quotient.

How hard can it be to embrace your day?

Depends how hard you hug it.

How fully can you live your life?

Depends what you put in it

How much joy can you find in a day

Depends on how you see it.

Have a good day all – find delight.

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anxiety, discretion, friendship, inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness

What’s Love Got To Do With It? A lot

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I want to thank Bill who writes the blog drbillwooten.com  for posting a quote this morning which has been echoing in my head –

“In the life of each of us…there is a place remote and islanded, and given to endless regret or secret happiness.  Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside wakes.” — C.E. Jung

Let me qualify this, before you leap to the notion that I’m advocating a narcissistic approach to life, centered totally on yourself with no consideration given to anyone or anything else.  Back it up my friend – let’s slow down and just take a little stroll, ok?  There is little risk that any of those who read this are on the cusp of world domination, figuratively speaking (if for some reason you are on the literal cusp of world domination,  I think it’s best I don’t know – just remember to please be kind when you assume global power).

I worry about my friends and family the way my Sirs can worry a bone.  Archie can spend hours considering a new bone from every angle, holding it tightly in his paws, refusing to consider a walk outside or a diversion of any kind.  I get it.  And so today I’m writing to all of you who have been on my mind – I love you, but I also need to get some sleep.

You are so incredibly worthy and deserving of all the happiness that you seek.  And you’re going to find it.  I wish I could tell you that it’s located on aisle six of the supermarket, next to the shaving cream.  On sale with no coupon needed.  The good news is that the cost isn’t prohibitive. The less-than-good-news is that it’s where we seldom choose to look.  Step inside yourself for a minute.  What do you see?  My hunch is that you see a lot of what you don’t want to look at.  So, we shut that door and look outside.  And our lives become “if..then” statements. ‘If this person loves me, then I will be happy.’  ‘If I could just get her to do ‘x’, then all would be good’.  ‘If I get this promotion, then I’ll be set’.  And – what if none of that happens?  We push that away.  Don’t want to think about it, because we’ve already set the level of expectation.

But where do you come into play?  If you spoke to yourself as you would your best friend, looked in the mirror through the eyes of one who loves and cherishes you, gave yourself permission to love yourself with the same passionate devotion with which you approach others – what would you do today?  How would you take care of you?  Would you let someone you love waste one moment of his/her time on sorrow that is avoidable?  Would you ever let someone you adore, cede control of his/her sense of self to anyone?  You wouldn’t of course – that’s what makes you such a fantastic friend.  Perhaps to everyone except yourself.

I’ve gotten myself so lost at times that it’s taken me years to get back to someone I recognize.  It happens.  And finding that I detoured and went so far off course that I couldn’t even figure out my true location is not a foreign exercise to me.  I’m still learning to give myself a break, nurture the little kid in me, still the voices in my head that continue to insist that they know what I should be doing, when arguably they no longer really know me at all.  I look in the mirror and some days I can’t stand what I see.  And I have a very strong able-bodied imp that jumps up and down every time I try to give myself an ‘atta girl’.

But – and it’s a big but – I know if I listen for too long, I will go down a path I would rather not travel.  I want to love this life enough to feel joy with who I am – choosing to sit here at the round table, with the sun on my back, jazz playing softly in the background, writing to you.  I choose to travel inside every once in a while to see how I’m treating myself, and to remember that I’m more ok than I probably think I am.  And more importantly, I can’t dismiss my own neurotic idiosyncracies by focusing on everyone and everything except them.  They’re as much a part of me as any wonderful qualities I may possess.  So be it.  I’ve gotta expend a little emotional energy on me.  That’s what my best friend would tell me.

My best friend would remind me that in her eyes, I’m wonderful and worthy and important. A best friend would not let me put the onus of my happiness on anyone’s shoulders and would urge me to get happy with me first.  Because a friend loves like that.  Can you be your own best friend for a little while?  Take that tentative walk inside and find all the wonder that is there and try to make peace with what is not – and still love you like crazy?

That is my wish for today – that you see yourself as I do.  That you embrace your magical, wonderful, generous, funny, lovable, silly, serious, slightly nutty, ridiculously talented self as I would if you were here.

anxiety, discretion, friendship, humor, life lessons, love, mindfulness

Over-thinking And Missing The Point

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See High Above – Marlena Morling

You step outside

into the early morning

in autumn –

 

And at the exact same instant

a scrap of paper

floats over –

 

High in the blue

blustery library

of the air –

 

You look up

and you see it rushing

and lifting

 

even higher

into the transparent layers

of the sky –

 

And at once,

you know

it is a message –

 

A message

that there is no message.

The scrap of paper

 

is just a scrap of paper!

It is weightless

and free

 

The world is just

the world –

And you are exactly

 

who you are –

Also floating now

high inside

 

The invisible

balloon of

another moment.

What if we could just let it go?  Give ourselves the grace of not second-guessing, seeking the ever-deeper answer, reflecting on our belly buttons until we can no longer remember why we got so engrossed in the first place (hint – there’s nothing going on worthy of self scrutiny of your navel)?  What if we took the worry du moment and greeted it, acknowledged it for what it is and then remember that whether or not we hold it, its resolution will come?  How would our day unfold if we wrote our sorrows on bits of paper and cast them into the wind – for whether we clutch them with tight fist or hold them loosely or let them go – the only thing that will change is the cramp in our fingers?

I hold onto things for too, too long.  I carry them with me as if they are some unique treasure that must be coddled and cared for, when realistically they have little long term value.  The typical takeaway for me is that I shouldn’t have wasted so much emotional energy.  ‘Lesson learned for next time’, I tell myself.  And this little voice in my ear laughs and wonders who I’m kidding.  The truth is, that which should be held onto for that extra moment longer are often the things we miss as we’re moving on – a hug that transmits love, a conversation with a friend who just needs you to be one, a tumbler of Grand Marnier in front of a fire (or hot chocolate with marshmallows – and you have to get to the marshmallows at the perfect in-between-time when they’ve melted but are still formed).

Why is it that every time – every time I look up at the sky and ask “Please?” and say “Thank you” (which I do often enough in a day that I probably am developing a reputation in the neighborhood as the lady with the dogs who walks around talking to the sky), I am lighter?  And if we know that our most peaceful moments come when we let go, do we insist that each time we don’t, we’re justified for doing so?   I swear to you I have some thoughts on this – and I know you do too.  In the interest of perpetuating my adapted version of National Listening Day, I’d rather hear why you hold on so tight, when we could instead release such encumbrances?  What do you think?  Anyone feel like letting go of the string?

discretion, friendship, inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness

Here’s An Idea

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According to NPR, the day after Thanksgiving is the National Day Of Listening.  The concept stems from their highly successful StoryCorps Program, and the theory is that the most important way to honor someone is to listen to him/her.  To hear a story with full attention, so intent that you could integrate it into a memory worth saving.  Listening with your mind free of anticipated responses, shopping lists, wandering thoughts – can you quantify the value of such a gift?  Can you imagine how much it would be appreciated?

Ask someone to tell you a story.  If you are indulging in some quiet after the deluge of family and friends, listen to the silence.  It too has a tale to tell.  Our stories matter, they are our perspectives of personal history and seminal moments,  unfettered joy and unhealed wounds.  They define us far more than adjectives.  They shape us far more than any exercise regimen (which is not a knock on exercise).  Yet, when was the last time you heard a tale?  And, what would be the story you would tell?

To me, that is where the wonder of this season is – in the giving of one’s heart while lending an ear.  And in being awed by the gift we’re given every time we  listen.  Happy Friday everybody.

 

 

 

discretion, friendship, inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness, music, parenting

Home Ec.

mimijk

“Hem your blessings with thankfulness so they don’t unravel”

Good advice, though I can’t sew.  I can’t even loosely baste a seam.  I failed sewing in the seventh grade, for the teacher didn’t consider it fashion forward to have the armhole of my jumper positioned at the hip.  I didn’t do much better at home economics (yes, they had courses such as this – let’s save the shock and awe for another day, shall we?), though I excelled at pudding.  And passing notes.

Which retrospectively suggests that I had my priorities straight even then – as long as you had good people around you, everything else would follow.  Take care of the ones you love.  Pass the notes, hold the secret, righteously defend (“Mimi would be an exemplary student if she were a bit less social”).  Ah well.  It is with this limited skill set that I have built my house.  Ultimately I bought the drapes and learned how to cook.  And though no one would mistake me for Martha Stewart, I’d say this is a pretty awesome home.  People curl up when they get here, they nestle in.  Shoes come off, defenses are shed, talk is uncensored, silence is religious.  There is nothing more transcendent than this.

Our Thanksgiving plans got derailed by my little surgery a few days back and we’re staying here instead of heading up to New Jersey.  The kids will be with their in-laws.  And as much as I will miss the noise, the laughter, the hugs – I am fortunate enough to have all this love around me every day.  The air is filled with “I love you’s”,  each room holds secrets told in whispers that repeat as favorite lyrics co-written once upon a time, and there is comfort in the sighs of the couch as I settle in to listen to the stories of home.  When I feel the sun on my back and I find magic in this very moment, I know that my bounty is as massive as my gratitude.

So as many of you head points north, east, west or south – travel safe.  Eat a lot, laugh more, grab a nap.  Take a walk, give out hugs.  Share your love.   Enfold these moments in your heart, for they will become the most gorgeous aspects of your home.  They become the most treasured parts of you.

anxiety, discretion, friendship, humor, inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness, music

When There Are No Answers

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“There are years that ask questions and years that answer.” — Zora Neale Hurston

It really is a little frustrating to consider how long it’s taking to get back into my groove.  I’m still crazy tired,  remain in stitches (though I’m not laughing), swollen, sore and without the energy to even consider where my get-up-and-go has relocated.  I know it hasn’t even been a week.  I’m petulant.  I don’t care.  This place I’m sitting in feels like really thick  pea soup and I don’t even like pea soup.  At about this point in my kvetching  I begin to talk to myself (needless to say the tone is harsh and very imperious – you don’t argue with a voice like that).  In effect she says, “Will you just knock it the hell off?  So what?  You’re uncomfortable?  Get in line and in the interim, puleeze shut up.”  And I do.

In the span of time that I have assumed the position of a lump, so much has been happening around me that perhaps my absence of movement is by universal design.  Someone’s heart is aching with the uncertainty that comes with self-doubt and fear of loss;  another prepares for a familial re-arrangement that will demand her energy and facility with the emotional bob-and-weave.  One friend works to rebuild her family’s factory post-Sandy, ending each day more exhausted and spent than the day before,  knowing full well that tomorrow the day begins again.  And another story is beginning as an amazing soul works to establish herself in a new position which combines her tremendous talent with her equally impressive sense of aesthetic.  I see a person I care about being forced to consider new employment for reasons which make an ethical retired HR exec break out in hives.  No one is curled up on the couch right now, covered up in the deliciously soft and worn blanket with the embroidered words “just be”.

My friends are caught in various stages of the years that pose the queries.  Some perhaps are closer to answers than others.  And if there is one thing that we all share it is the need to embrace the times when we just don’t know, when the answers are elusive (perhaps because we’re asking the wrong questions),  and the only option available is to keep asking.  Keep being uncomfortable.  Wonder, doubt, assert, withdraw, huddle, hide – and ask.  Now is not the time to stop asking, for closure without answers that feel good in your skin,  is no closure at all.  Learning to love the questions is a little like learning to love being out of balance.  Out of balance means that you can grab for something to keep you from falling without having to hold onto it forever.  Out of balance means that you see the world with the perception needed to focus on one thing – and perhaps seeing it with the most exquisite clarity.  Out of balance means that you are exercising the emotional muscles that have to be toned to keep you upright, albeit shakily.  Love the  questions as much as you seek the answers.  They must be posed – this is their time.

I too am asking questions all the time — from the mundane (why can’t they just find out what is taking up real estate in my jaw) to the more complicated (what is my next dance step?  what music feels right?  what am I waiting for?).  This is the time and I am not shying away from the exercise.  Yes, it makes my heart beat faster, tears fall with a little less censorship and sometimes I’m sure that I am jumping out of my skin.  And then I focus on an enormous blue jay holding a twig of crepe myrtle in its mouth, knowing with certainty he’s off to build a future.  Aren’t we all?

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anxiety, discretion, friendship, humor, inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness

That Space In Between

mimijk

Home from the hospital – sore, swollen, fat jaw, bruised eye.  You should see the other guy.  Seriously, he looks great because I was asleep during my limited introduction to the doctor’s graceful hands and exacting instruments.   To add insult to injury, I think I even shook his hand before the procedure began.  Of course, I befriended the nurses, anesthesiologist, anesthesiologist’s assistant, nurse’s aide, phlebotomist and the volunteer who checked me in.  My interest is genuine and it also hedges my bets.  To like me is to help me if I need it and I really try to be a likable kind of patient.  Because mostly all I seek is a smile, a little reassurance and a cup of coffee.

I woke up with my heart pounding in my ears – “You’re awake!  You’re alive”  I silently repeated my name and address,  the names of family members, all the dogs we’ve had in proper order.  Wiggled my toes, fingers, nose – all present and accounted for.  Kelly the red-haired nurse who got engaged two weeks ago and is trying to plan a Christmas wedding because she’s also two seconds pregnant, brought me some ginger ale.  Ah, the art of sucking soda through a straw with a fat jaw is a challenge.  Half of the soda stains my hospital gown, the rest manages to make it down my throat.  “Where’s your pain level Mimi?”  About six, I gesture with my fingers.  “Do you want me to give you something for the pain”  Nope – just want to go home and put my head on my pillow.  Someone give Andy permission to get me home.

The reality is that with a circle of angels and a firm belief that there is a God, I got home pretty damn quickly.  And now that I’ve got nowhere I have to be, I will settle in and calm down, spend a bit more time soothing the voices in my head that tend to repeat stressful moments over and over – and over.  The whole thing took far longer than originally planned, for they removed two nodes instead of one.  But it’s all good – between the slices sent to microbiology and the samples to pathology perhaps we’ll know exactly what these interlopers are made of and how we can kick them out of their residences. Hey, maybe there’s a poem about neoplasm in here!   I hesitate to write too much because I still have a lot of meds in my system.  True story – after one of my spinal fusions, I received a call from work with news about a fantastic year-end merit bonus I had received.  Good manners being important to me, I immediately sent off an email to the Chair and the Vice Chair thanking them profusely for such largesse.  A few days later when I was corpus mentos, I read the sent email and it looked in part  like this –  “Thank you so much – I amrealyslpeesed…”  Was I horrified?  Yup – and when I called them they each laughingly assured me they were archiving the messages as a sample of when my writing ability eluded me.  Nice guys.  But I learned the valuable lesson that it is better sometimes to defer your communications until you are able.  In fact, there should be a warning label on medication which says “don’t drive or operate heavy machinery and if you feel inclined to write something, move away from the keyboard and whatever you do, don’t hit ‘send'”.

So before I make a WordPress fool of myself (wouldn’t be the first time, though it may be the first time it was unintended), I’m going to sign off.  Thank you for your prayers, your smiles, your sunshine, your teasing.  Thank you for your good wishes, better friendships and outstanding support.  Thank you for grinning if you find this sounds a little un-Mimi like and still read it all the way through.  And when I can lift a glass of something less benign than ginger ale, I will raise a glass to you.