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Showing posts from March, 2014

The Power of 18 Minutes

This is one of my favorite meditations.  It was not love at first listen though.  I had to get past the fact that the voice sounds like it could be in a parody film....or a mentalist show...or may be about to ask me to cluck like a chicken... Everyone will connect with something different, but during my trip to Jamaica in January, I mindfully sat on a lounger under a palm tree, where I could see the ocean waves, at sunrise and used every cell of my being to connect with the energy around me;  to absorb it, memorize it, feel it in every part of who I was.  The salty, light breeze, the heat coming off the warmed towels, the colors of the sky, the crash of the waves--I became part of it and we moved together.   So when I got home, I went to YouTube to find something that I could use to try to tickle my memories and coax out the pure indulgence of the experience; being lost in the energy of the space around you. Most everyone I talk to acknowledges the need to find time for

Ostrich or Hawk?

  I don't watch the news.   That often makes me feel incredibly ignorant when people are discussing injustices around the globe and as a librarian, I think people would expect me to be well informed on a broad range of topics--politics, geography, the environment even the issues of the city in which I live and pay taxes.    It is not something I am proud of---but the truth or truth as the media would have us believe is far too overwhelming.    Treasure Trove of Terror Seems to me there is something lurking around every corner these days:  children are not safe walking to school, playing in their back yard or eating their lunch.  Pedophiles, unsupervised pools, peanut butter---"deadly disasters" sound bite snaps your head in the direction of the TV or headline.  No, none of it is good, but the media uses scare tactics to keep us fearful and dependent on others to tell us what to do to save ourselves and our children.   Look at ME, Look at ME! Soc

The Sign of Spring

Like most people with kids---I have done "the McDonald's thing".  Something about the uniform taste of the chicken nuggets ---fries---the toy---oh yeah THE TOY--that appeals to kids.   The end of a long day of work or errands --and it is too easy to give in to the drive-thru.  After eating...all of the "dishes" go into recycling...except the toy which vanishes into the pit of the toy box...usually never to be seen or referred to again.  (Even though when the toy was missing from the bag, I went BACK through the long drive-thru line to assuage the flow of tears coming from the back seat. Sigh ) About four years ago, my youngest had just finished his "Happy Meal"---when he suddenly began to look a little green. He ran upstairs and got to "enjoy" his meal again in reverse order.  That was the end of McDonalds in our house. So for me, there is one reason and one reason ONLY to go to McDonalds now.  SHAMROCK SHAKE.  While the  nutriti

What Does the Passing of a Year Sound Like?

Tomorrow is my birthday.  I will be 47 (egads) and will have to update my profile for the blog.   So while I will update my age, I think the rest of the profile stays the same.  A year into this blog and I am still working on building that strong foundation--the part that will hold me up on the days when it feels like everything is crumbling around me or times when my wrecking ball mentality has me swinging blindly at invisible foe. I still struggle with reading, and so finding some of Brene Brown, her Daring Greatly, on audiobook has allowed me to continue reinforcing what I believe will help me.  The messages I hear are the same from everyone ---my adult day treatment program, the mood and anxiety group, books, blogs, videos and visits with my therapist and doctor.  And sometimes when I write about them I feel like I am actually living them.  When I speak the words --shame, fear, guilt, resiliency, wholehearted living, Inner Wisdom, Inner Mean Girl, self-compassion, I

Extending My Small World Part Two - Be Careful What You Wish For

So I reached out to the Spouse.  A conversation with open heart about our missing connection, his long hours, my fear for his health, my loneliness, how we live two lives, how return to work scares me that it will get worse, about what he is missing with the kids.  It was a good talk--not with solutions--just concerns.  What I did not anticipate was the response. The next day he came home from work and shared with me his horrible day.  He alternated between heated phone calls, staccato texts and pounding keystrokes on his laptop.  I pointed him to the basement so I could help the Youngest with homework without the pacing loud voice echoing in our small living room.  Chest tightening, air hot, hard to breathe, what is going on?  Muscles burning, head buzzing. Please just go. Disappear. Stop. Black History Month work completed, lunch made and hugs and kisses accomplished the Youngest was in bed when the Spouse emerged from the basement to update me on what was happening now

Extending my Small World - Part One - Good Intentions

Last summer, I wrote about my small world. The world of pink and purple morning sky, hot coffee and birdsong on my back deck.  Flowing dresses, birdsong, warm breezes caressing my skin; I was trying to find peace in this small world as the big world over my fence zoomed by in cars and busses carrying people to work---the one place that had contributed so highly to my breakdown.  Since then, I have applied myself to finding tools and people to help me feel settled in my own skin. To sit and do nothing and fall back into old habits would have been infinitely easier than to do the work.  It is the work of the soul; to find your way back to the you that has always been there.  I found Brene Brown, Inner Mean Girl Reform School, Mood and Anxiety Group at the hospital, my therapist, the Sisters Social, meditation, Eat, Share, Love group, my Sista Perfectionista...and all of it helped me take myself apart and put it back together in a way that makes sense.  It is not like it is

When Is Enough, Enough?

I was at my family doctor's recently to deal with the yuck of bronchitis that my youngest and I picked up somewhere on our three day trip to Niagara Falls.  She is a great doctor.  She is passionate, always has time when you need it and truly loves her job.  She and her husband own the clinic where they work only recently, decided to close on Sundays.  Before that, it was seven days a week, 9 am to 8 pm weekdays with shorter shifts on Saturday. They both run a  family practice and while juggling their huge case loads, take walk-in patients all day, every day.  Sometimes it is actually quicker to show up at 9 AM and ask for a walk-in appointment than it is to book one! This visit I asked about her children, both in medical school in Ireland, who were both home doing research at hospitals nearby. "Oh my goodness they are so busy!  They are juggling research while doing some class work.  You see, the hospitals love my kids because they work.  They don't goof

Craving Change

  My fingers have been itching to create. Last week I completed my first afghan, and now, without a project, I find myself scanning my house, wanting change.....right......now! Suddenly, I want to paint, move all the furniture, replace the carpet in the basement, change everyone's bedroom around and yes, even replace the kitchen sink. It is a nagging itch and I have been leaning into to the discomfort---sitting with it--to see if I could find a remedy, or at least better understand where it is coming from. Is it spring cleaning fever? Since we are still buried in snow and ice and suffering through -30 wind chills, I don't think that is is (or maybe it is---willing spring to come?) Building on the spring cleaning fever---could it be cabin fever. Am I spending too much time at home looking at the walls?  If I was working, would I even care? I was postulating these hypotheses with my Sista Perfectionista yesterday: "I don't know what i