Feeding My Soul, Part 247

I target the last Saturday before Christmas as the day to put up the tree and decorations. With The Kid half a world away I did this alone yesterday.  I am not putting the tree up this year. I am the foster parent of The Cat - The Cat has been here other Christmases and LOVES decorated trees. I have no energy for the on-going arguments with The Cat, knowing ultimately she would win most of them. It was very strange to do this by myself and to not be putting up the tree. I went through some loneliness and crabbiness and wondered why I should bother. It felt like a chore and for awhile I talked myself into believing I was only doing it for the guests I'll have here on Christmas Eve. I hadn't been pulling things out of boxes for too long though, when I knew I was doing it for myself. And I was doing it for The Kid. I needed here her in spirit. I was rummaging about the boxes of too many Christmas things, deciding what would come out this year, and what would stay hidden away, and my Grinchness began to lift. I had fun and enjoyed the thoughts of other Christmases and spent time reminiscing with myself. Later in the day, I realized that this was yet another reminder for me to make the choice to enjoy what I'm doing and love the little things that can bring me joy. It takes work and conscious decisions to do that. It's always worth it. I sometimes forget that and let myself slip back to taking things for granted and using jade coloured glasses to view my world.

Three things that have recently fed my soul, things I didn't realize were feeding my soul until I stopped and let myself appreciate them:

- I bought a new grater. It is small and very sharp with a cover that clips over the grate and has a padded handle. I liked it in the store and I bought it for more money than I would usually spending on something like a  grater. Grating is easier than with my old square metal box that I've had for years, that is the same style (but not the quality) that my Mom had for years. A new grater has made a little tiny slice of my life easier (pun intended) and it feeds my soul to remind myself that I can buy new things just for me, no matter what the reason.

- I went to a meditation class, Tai Chi, two Christmas parties, and out for five meals in the past couple weeks. They were obligations I didn't know how to get out of and events that were tiring me out. It was too much being in public and crowds and social interaction. At the times I'd decided to do these things, I truly wanted to do them. By the time came to go, I wanted to stay home, stay warm, sleep, and just be. I could have done that, but forced myself to attend each of these. Each was soul-feeding in their own way at the time, but I didn't recognize that my soul was being fed not just by the external interactions but by pushing myself out of my winter doldrums.

- A co-worker had a business trip two weeks ago, to provide training for one of our external clients. The first day she was back at work, she was happy and excited that she had gone, that the training had been successful, that she was helping people learn and understand.  It fed my soul to see her talk about how she loves to teach and it fed my soul for her to say "It fed my soul". She gets it, and she gets me, to know using that term would mean I understood completely her emotion.

Christmas will be different for me this year with The Kid gone and my house will be different with no tree. I know I will love the time off work, and the meals, laughs, and love shared with family. I know I will also remember the wee things will feed my soul. I will forget that again I'm sure, like forgetting exactly which decorations are carefully and lovingly packed away each year.  I need to remember to find those soul-feeding moments. They are always there. Old ones to reflect upon, taking them out of the storage spaces in my brain and dusting them to carefully place them in my heart; and new ones that may not seem to be much more than a new grater that catches my eye but turns into a moment that makes my life easier.

Who Am I?

When I was first diagnosed with cancer, my good friend (who is also a cancer survivor) said "This will change you". That statement scared me. Change is part of the unknown, and cancer was part of the unknown. Whether I'd survive was part of the unknown. I didn't want any more unknowns, especially if it had to do with who I was. Her comment stayed kind of hidden in the back of my brain, but it would creep out and poke me from time to time. I'm four years past my treatment and cancer-free for three years. Only now am I beginning to understand what she meant. I can not explain this to you, any more than she could explain it to me. I know I laugh more often, cry more often, feel more deeply, love more fiercely. This change is so much deeper than that. I am becoming who I am meant to be. I know my spirit is in tune with something far beyond explanation.

Three things I ponder about, as I try to explain to myself how I've changed:

- Feeding my soul. I speak and write of this often. I have never been a religious person, but have thought of myself as spiritual. There were times when I held beliefs that some would define as atheist. My awareness continues to grow.

- The things that bring me the greatest joy. These are the core of what feeds my soul. These are leading me to different ways of thinking, of planning, of being. Somehow the pondering of this is opening a door to what I am meant to do, partly as a way to support myself, but more importantly as a definition of using my true gifts.

- Connections to the people in my life. I am more forgiving and less judgmental. I have strengthened relationships with those close to me and renewed relationships to those whom I let slip from my life. I am also more aware of those who can cause me harm. I've always been a 'helper' of some sort. My energy is more focused on how I help, who I help, why I help. I have nothing if I don't have people. This is the great connection to soul-feeding.

I don't have it all figured out. Each day a little more of the puzzle is revealed to me. I am changed.

Stretching

I like watching The Cat stretch after a long cat nap and I love the feeling of a big s-t-r-e-t-c-h after sitting at my desk, on the couch, or being cooped up in a car. Few things feel as good as a deep breath and re-awakening my body as I extend my arms, legs, diaphram and shake off the sluggishness.

With all the areas in my life that I try to balance, I have to take time to stretch in other ways than just the physical. It's hard to remember to do this and it's hard to find the energy, at times. Like the physical stretch, these other stretches help create the energy to go a little farther, try a little harder, experience more. Physical, mental, emotional, spiritual, social: each of these areas requires care. When I focus on one area and not the rest, the neglected areas get sluggish.

Stretches, whether large or small, are needed to remind myself that life is multi-faceted. Too much energy spent in one area cramps the rest, puts part of me to sleep, like a dangling leg that was tucked up underneath me for too long. It's tough to do and then the whole time issue I struggle with smacks me and then the whole balance question takes me to darker parts of myself. And on it goes. When I get to this stage, I REALLY need to stretch. And relax, and continue on, with self in balance for a time.

Three stretches I've done recently:

- I joined an Improv class. I needed to add more fun to my life. Fun it is! Two hours of laughter and creativity (mine and others) shuts off the daily 'shoulds' and responsibiliites. It has also stretched my spontaneous self, my physical self, my awareness of others, my listening skills, and my joy.

- I asked for help at work. This was a big deal for me; I'm doing work I haven't done before, and it is very important to me to be able to portray an aura of confidence with this new work. Letting others know I am willing to learn from others and need direction and guidance opened another new door. The process of doing this improved my credibilty, and stretched not just my comfort zone, but the contraction and relaxation after the stretch changed my perception of needing to be perfect. It was both humbling and freeing.

- I bid on an incomplete set of old dishes at a silent auction. This silent auction was at a non-profit second hand store. I thought the dishes were pretty and they reminded me of my Mom and my childhood. I am working at getting rid of stuff in my house and certainly don't need to accumlate more. I wrote down the bid on a whim, based on the emotions I felt looking at these dishes. My bid was successful and I won the dishes. Now I have more stuff in my house and I have dishes I don't need. I am so happy to have them, though. This spur of the moment desire for the dishes stretched my awareness that I can fill my life with what I want. This expands to much more than surrounding myself with things - I can surround myself with people, experiences, and thoughts, that bring me joy and peace. I will put the dishes in my cupboard as the every day dishes for myself. I can treat myself every day by eating from a plate I love.

Today is Sunday, which has over time turned into my chore day. One of my chores today will be finding a stretch for myself. I don't know yet what that might be - it could even be the stretch of tackling the dreaded "sort all the papers" chore, but I will stretch something, somehow, somewhere today.

This is Jeopardy!

And now entering the studio are today's contestants... I've been a Jeopardy watcher for many years. (I know they have changed the opening of the show, but I still like the previous beginning, where the contestants did enter the studio, and not stand pre-arranged behind their podiums.) On each episode, Alex Trebek spends a few minutes talking to each contestant about something in their life. I admire Alex, after all these years, being able to show interest in these stories. When some little quirky thing has happened to The Kid, I've reminded her that she now has a story to share with Alex on Jeopardy.

Three stories I could share with Alex:

-There is a family legend that my grandfather may have slept in the same room as Jesse James, that this has not been proven, but that there is a book that references a J. Edmondson (my great-grandfather's name) riding with the James Gang. Alex would say "Have fun with your research".

-I hugged my boss at a community gathering. I'd had recent surgery and was still under the influence of pain killers. Our family tied our reunion into the town's centennial. When my boss saw me he asked how I was doing. I'd seen so many relatives that day my brain didn't connect with who he was and I hugged him. I hugged many people that day and he was one more face I recognized but didn't quite place. Half way through the hug I had a jolt of recognition. This was not some long lost cousin, but my boss. Alex would say "Did it get you a raise?".

-I have some hearing loss and have the closed-captioning option turned on on my TV. I don't need to read every word, but use it to catch words I miss. I see many closed-captioning mistakes, and I believe some are deliberate. If I were the closed-captioner, I would make some deliberate mistakes just to mess with people a little bit. The best I've seen is a reporter who said "The Bank of Nova Scotia" but the closed captioning said "The Bank of Alex Trebek". Alex would say "I'd like to have my own bank".

If I won a few days in a row, I could talk about the button collection I 'inherited', the 'dicks in a row' typo I made, hearing words incorrectly and what sounds to others like out-in-left-field replies. Alex likes the funny stories best, it seems.

I can't imagine that I will ever be a Jeopardy contestant, but who knows what the future will bring? I try to view the events, small and large, in my life as stories to share with Alex in a forty-five second time frame. It helps me keep perspective on the the mundane, the horrors, the joys, the accomplishments. Everything I do and experience is worth something to me and everything can be looked at with an eye on the ridiculous or funny. Give some thought to the stories you'd share with Alex. Holding his index card, Alex says "It says here..." And you reply "Yes Alex, I was..." Alex says "Good for you". All our stories are worth telling.

Stuff and Such

I've had stuff on my mind this weekend. Actual stuff. My plan this weekend was to get things back to some kind of order in my home. It's been in disarray since The Kid left. We stored her stuff in my largest closet. My stuff from that closet had to come out. I spent time this weekend moving piles of stuff from one spot to another. I still have too much stuff for my space. Clothes, dishes, books, scrapbooking supplies, and the ever-present-how-do-I-get-rid-of-it button collection.

Three things about stuff:

- No matter how much you accumulate, once you decide to purge, you get more stuff. Sometimes stuff just comes, showing up from nowhere, to take up space.

- Everyone has different stuff and each person's stuff has different emotional and monetary value.

- Some stuff is worth keeping. Today I helped a friend look through some of her Mom's stuff. And there, in a box of papers, was a birthday card my Mom had given her Mom. I now have a card that connected my two Moms - it would have been rather unusual circumstances for my Mom to give my surrogate Mom a card. I have a treasure now.

I think of my stuff and get frustrated. Yet there is little I truly want to get rid of - I just want somewhere to put it. I think of The Kid's stuff, the most important possessions of hers, living in my closet, waiting for her to come home. I think of Sister Two's stuff, destroyed by fire. I think of the family treaures some are lucky enough to have, which to others is just stuff, and feel some envy; we have few. I think of spotless, everything in its place houses, and wish I could have that fortitude, to not gather stuff. I think of people who have no stuff. I can and will purge soon, with trepidation that I might be getting rid of good stuff. I just need to engage someone whose stuff includes a pick up truck.

Miracles

Terminal brain cancer. Heart attack. Stroke. Addiction. Bi-polar disorder. These are some of the things affecting my people. Sister Three reminds me that as we get older, we will hear of more often of these life-changing and sometimes life-ending events. I see despair and strength, denial and acceptance to varying degrees with my people. It can be so easy to let myself be pulled by circumstance and emotion into seeing all of this as negative, and to let my inherent compassion become over-reaction. I need to temper that with the miracles I see. I have to search, at times, to find the miracles, and when I find them, to remember them.

Three miracles I've seen:

- Cousin Thirty-Two (or thereabouts) has made great strides in recovering from an illness that affected his vision, his hearing, his breathing, his ability to swallow, his balance. He found a way to believe when the medical community said nothing more could be done.

- Family members recovering/recovered from addictions and making huge leaps into building solid and healthy lives for themselves. (I prefer the term recovered, but the literature says recovering. It's a lifelong illness, I know, but...). Each has fought (and continue to fight) their own demons.

- An ant carry, by himself (herself? itself?), a piece of popcorn. One piece of popped corn would not be so heavy to me, but to an ant? And the awkwardness of the enormity in comparison to its' tiny size?

With each miracle there is a hidden lesson for me. The lesson from these three miracles are all centered around not giving up, persistance, hard work for great rewards. I enjoy and rejoice in the miracles I see for the sheer wonder, and later the lesson reveals itself. I am alive today, and that is a miracle. I sometimes need to remember that. Each of you reading this are a miracle in my life - you provide love, learning, support, humour, joy to my life.

Find your miracles. Search for them diligently in the times of illness, stress, death. Feel sad, angry, frustrated, hopeless when you need to, but rejoice when you see the miracles. And the lessons will come, along with new peace.

Quiet and Busy

I've had a busy, but quiet summer. I know that sounds like an oxymoron, but plans I'd made didn't materialize so most days have been centered around doing what I want or feel like doing each day. This has worked well and it is a balancing act, juggling of time and self to do this. I love being able to be spontaneous, but I also need to build in things to look forward to. It can be hard to do both, and so far this summer, it has worked in my favor.

I went to the local small town celebration of the town I grew up in, with a good friend. Well, I didn't actually 'grow up' there - we left when I was eight. It still feels like home, though. It was interesting to take my friend there, as this town has always been a place I visit with family. On the way home, she commented that it was surprising to her that I had such a connection to this little prairie town, as I was so young when we moved away. She's right - it is unusual, I guess. Roots and the shaping of my life, the lives of my Dad, my siblings, and (in a different way) my Mom. The town is part of me.

We did small town things; one of which was watching the parade. I love parades, and small town parades are the best. Three things that makes small town parades so much fun:

- Candy. At small town parades, they still throw candy. Lots of candy. Kids had grocery bags in their laps and many of the bags were close to full as the parade ended. At this parade, not only was candy plentiful, but frisbees, freezies, and even Matchbox-like cars. And enough candy thrown that we, too, could have some.

- Any one can enter. You can drive your old pick-up truck, or your new pick-up truck, undecorated, and BE IN THE PARADE. When we lived in this town, we had entry every year, in costume and walking or riding the eight blocks. My Mom was creative and had a fantastic sense of humour, so members of my family sometimes won prizes.

- People know each other and shout back and forth. Parade participants hollering at parade-watchers. Parade-watchers waving and yelling back. "Hey, Joe! I didn't think you'd get up in time to make it today." "Are you going to the dance later?" Community.

Small towns, roots, parades: these are a few of the things that have made my unplanned and unscheduled summer busy and fulfilling. While I will continue to build things to look forward to into my life, I will remember the spur of the moment and unplanned can bring the greatest satisfaction. Look for the opportunities and make your days both quiet and busy.