I've been busy this winter and spring, much busier than I usually am through the cold, long, dark, snowy, icy winter months. This was self-imposed. I know that if I don't make an effort to get out of the house, that it gets harder and harder to go out. I hate being cold and I hate the short hours of sunlight and I hate trying to drive on the ice ruts that develop in my city. I signed up for classes and made plans with friends. And then, a suprise from Mother Nature! We had the warmest winter in my memory, with very little snow. It was easy for me to get to my activities. I'm already asking for the same jet stream to be around for the remainder of all my winters. I had to give up some things to take on the new, with sleep being at the top of that list. We can not have something new without saying goodbye to something else.
Three things I've been doing:
- I took a Level A Improv class last October. I loved it so much I took Level A again in January and Level B in March. I didn't want Level B to end and hope the planned Level C for next fall goes ahead. If not, I may just take Levels A & B over and over and over. It was the best break of the week for me - two hours of laughter, of creativity (both mine and others), of learning, of being spontaneous, of learning to listen, of trusting myself and my absolute base gut instincts.
- I enrolled in a writing class - Writing a Guided Autobiography. I wanted something to force me to write in a more structured way, with some guidelines and timelines. It has given me that. I have no plans, at present, to write my autobiography, but the assignments have given me some thought and new perspectives for writing my family history stories. It has also triggered my memory about much of my life and given me food for thought about who I am, who I always thought I was, who I want to become, what is important to me, a mental timeline of my changes and growth.
- I've been attending meditation sessions every couple of weeks. It was interesting for me to realize I have been meditating for much of my life, but didn't know it. I had no name for the places I would go in my mind to relax, to visualize, to daydream, to connect with something greater than myself. These planned group sessions are opening doors to my self and my connection to whatever it is that is out there, whether is is called God, The Universe, The Power, The Great Spirit. It is part of my spiritual journey and one of my favorite soul-feeding exercises.
Being busy and sleep-deprived much of the time was worth it. This list of things I've received and learned these past months astounds me in some ways. In other ways, it seems like a natural progresssion and just part of me and my life. It's a bit of a paradox; by seeing the wonder of my life and my capabilites and my abilities that sight has become part of my every day life. I strive to keep myself in awe of what gifts I have received for granted. These gifts include the people around me; friends, family, colleagues, the instructors, the cashier at the grocery store. All have something to offer me. And I have something to offer them, to offer you. Stay tuned.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Easy Laughter
Have you had one of those times lately when one simple silly thing led to gales of laughter, giggles that won't stop, belly laughs that make your face hurt? I was fortunate enough this past week to have a couple of those times. And I was able to recreate a few other times this has happened by reminding those involved of the absolute silliness we had shared. These are precious moments. They are a shared communion that can't be explained. Trying to relay the story later to someone else is not impossible; the intangible that makes it so funny gets lost in the translation of re-telling.
Three people, of many, who almost always can help me find the bizarre and silly side:
- The Kid: she and I have shared many of these silly face-hurting laughs. Even though she is a world away, a few simple sentences back and forth on Facebook this week brought tears of laughter to my eyes. Teasing each other and veiled references to our silliness in the past had me laughing out loud, alone. I wonder if the neighbours could hear me and were thinking that they better do something about that woman upstairs. Sharing silliness about times past is the best healing laughter in the world.
- A colleague who has become a good friend: She laughs often and sees the slightly twisted and bizarre in most situations. A misread street sign a few days ago forced her to pull over - it was too dangerous to keep driving while laughing so hard. We just couldn't quit. We both misread the same sign at the same time. The realization of what the sign really did say was cause for hilarity as we poked fun at ourselves and each other. It got even funnier when the third person in the car didn't even crack a smile, not seeing the stupidity of the situation. Laughing at oneself is the best healing laughter in the world.
- Brother Three: He can make me laugh any time, any place. We have shared so many just-between-us silly times that often just a single word to each other is enough to laugh again and then years later, laugh again and then decades later, laugh again. This week, he and I shared a few hours together and laughed at a years-old memory. The reading of his fortune cookie created a new instance of sharing silliness. We play off each other's laughter and can build a simple chuckle into a full case of 'getting the weirds'. Getting the weirds, where the silliness and the ridiculous builds until all around you are annoyed and can't understand, is the best healing laughter in the world.
My intent today was to share some of these stories and make you laugh. All was lost in the translation. I am so blessed to have family and a few very good friends who share my sense of humour and will laugh with me anytime, anywhere, at anything. Thanks to them and I hope you find someone to laugh with today.
Three people, of many, who almost always can help me find the bizarre and silly side:
- The Kid: she and I have shared many of these silly face-hurting laughs. Even though she is a world away, a few simple sentences back and forth on Facebook this week brought tears of laughter to my eyes. Teasing each other and veiled references to our silliness in the past had me laughing out loud, alone. I wonder if the neighbours could hear me and were thinking that they better do something about that woman upstairs. Sharing silliness about times past is the best healing laughter in the world.
- A colleague who has become a good friend: She laughs often and sees the slightly twisted and bizarre in most situations. A misread street sign a few days ago forced her to pull over - it was too dangerous to keep driving while laughing so hard. We just couldn't quit. We both misread the same sign at the same time. The realization of what the sign really did say was cause for hilarity as we poked fun at ourselves and each other. It got even funnier when the third person in the car didn't even crack a smile, not seeing the stupidity of the situation. Laughing at oneself is the best healing laughter in the world.
- Brother Three: He can make me laugh any time, any place. We have shared so many just-between-us silly times that often just a single word to each other is enough to laugh again and then years later, laugh again and then decades later, laugh again. This week, he and I shared a few hours together and laughed at a years-old memory. The reading of his fortune cookie created a new instance of sharing silliness. We play off each other's laughter and can build a simple chuckle into a full case of 'getting the weirds'. Getting the weirds, where the silliness and the ridiculous builds until all around you are annoyed and can't understand, is the best healing laughter in the world.
My intent today was to share some of these stories and make you laugh. All was lost in the translation. I am so blessed to have family and a few very good friends who share my sense of humour and will laugh with me anytime, anywhere, at anything. Thanks to them and I hope you find someone to laugh with today.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
The Cat
When The Kid was getting ready to move to the other side of the world, she needed to figure out what to do with The Cat. She adopted The Cat seven years ago and for some of that time The Cat (and The Kid) lived with me. As the time for her (The Kid, not The Cat) to start her new life grew closer, there was still no plan in place for The Cat. I love The Cat, but I didn't want her (The Cat, not The Kid) staying with me for a year. I'm at a spot in my life where just taking care of myself is enough responsibility. I didn't want to be tied down or vacuum up cat fur or change and clean the litter box. Flights were booked, bags were packed, and I relented and became the foster parent of The Cat. The Cat and I love and tolerate each other.
Three things about The Cat:
-She is very smart. The Cat has found ways to communicate with me. And I've learned to listen to determine what she is trying to tell me. Different meows and mews and actions mean different things. One example - The Kid would brush The Cat, but I never did. For a few days in a row, The Cat would cry and roll on the floor, stomach up. She would get up, rub my legs, and start the rolling on the floor again. AHA! After getting through my bewilderment and annoyance, The Cat made it clear to me that she wanted to be brushed. Once I listened and figured that out, she turned this into an evening routine. Some say she has trained me, and I suppose she has, but I now like brushing her. I like that by tuning into her voice and actions, we communicated. I need to polish this skill more for my every day interactions with people. What are people really saying and what do they really want? Am I listening closely enough or am I too involved in my own "stuff" to understand a plain message?
- She is very social. When the doorbells rings, which is seldom at my house, The Cat runs to the top of the stares to see who is coming to visit. She greets the guests silently and will sniff them to determine who they are. After checking the visitor out, she may or may not stay around. She may wander off to one of her favorite hidden napping spots, but she will often hang around the feet of the visitors or brush up against their legs. She knows which people she can jump up on and which ones to don't want her on them. She nips at some people - sometimes to tell them to quit petting her and sometimes for attention. The Cat scares some people because she is an occasional biter. I love that she gets excited when people come to our house and her excitement makes me more excited that Someone Else Is Here. The Cat makes the choice of who she want she spend time with, how to spend that time,and she is clear about what she wants. I need to polish this skill more for my every day interactions with people.Am I genuinely glad to see people? Can I spend the time I want with them? Can I clearly tell them I need more or less than what they are offering me?
- She is very loving. We do have a routine for our peaceful times together. I have set the routines and she knows to come and cuddle. I often will lay on my couch; sometimes for a nap and sometimes to meditate. When The Cat hears I am no longer moving around, and am quietly settled on the couch, she will rouse herself from wherever she is sleeping and join me on the couch. She lays on my chest and purrs. Listening to and feeling her purr is starts my relaxation and meditation. I have a friend who calls this "The Purr Zone". As I get into a deeper state of relaxation, The Cat gently and quietly moves and lays by my legs on my left side. I drift off - meditating or sleeping; at peace; calm; warm; comfortable. I always get up refreshed. On my busy days, when I don't take the time for a nap or meditation session, The Cat is a little more persnickety and more inclined to bite me. I've learned that she needs this quiet time with me as much as I do. I need to polish this skill more for my every day interactions with people. Am I appreciating people for what they are and taking time to just be with them? Am I at peace and comfortable with those around me? Can people trust what I do, without fear that I will hurt them?
The Kid is deciding whether to spend nine extra months in her world-away life. If she stays, I will have one more year of vacuuming and sweeping up fur, cleaning the litter box, and making adjustments in order to take holidays or go away for a few days. If she (The Kid, not The Cat) decides to come home as planned, I will get my freedom back in just a few months from now. The Cat and I DO love and tolerate each other, but I look forward to my life being unencumbered by her. Whatever The Kid decides, eventually The Cat will move out and I will miss The Cat. Don't tell The Kid.
Three things about The Cat:
-She is very smart. The Cat has found ways to communicate with me. And I've learned to listen to determine what she is trying to tell me. Different meows and mews and actions mean different things. One example - The Kid would brush The Cat, but I never did. For a few days in a row, The Cat would cry and roll on the floor, stomach up. She would get up, rub my legs, and start the rolling on the floor again. AHA! After getting through my bewilderment and annoyance, The Cat made it clear to me that she wanted to be brushed. Once I listened and figured that out, she turned this into an evening routine. Some say she has trained me, and I suppose she has, but I now like brushing her. I like that by tuning into her voice and actions, we communicated. I need to polish this skill more for my every day interactions with people. What are people really saying and what do they really want? Am I listening closely enough or am I too involved in my own "stuff" to understand a plain message?
- She is very social. When the doorbells rings, which is seldom at my house, The Cat runs to the top of the stares to see who is coming to visit. She greets the guests silently and will sniff them to determine who they are. After checking the visitor out, she may or may not stay around. She may wander off to one of her favorite hidden napping spots, but she will often hang around the feet of the visitors or brush up against their legs. She knows which people she can jump up on and which ones to don't want her on them. She nips at some people - sometimes to tell them to quit petting her and sometimes for attention. The Cat scares some people because she is an occasional biter. I love that she gets excited when people come to our house and her excitement makes me more excited that Someone Else Is Here. The Cat makes the choice of who she want she spend time with, how to spend that time,and she is clear about what she wants. I need to polish this skill more for my every day interactions with people.Am I genuinely glad to see people? Can I spend the time I want with them? Can I clearly tell them I need more or less than what they are offering me?
- She is very loving. We do have a routine for our peaceful times together. I have set the routines and she knows to come and cuddle. I often will lay on my couch; sometimes for a nap and sometimes to meditate. When The Cat hears I am no longer moving around, and am quietly settled on the couch, she will rouse herself from wherever she is sleeping and join me on the couch. She lays on my chest and purrs. Listening to and feeling her purr is starts my relaxation and meditation. I have a friend who calls this "The Purr Zone". As I get into a deeper state of relaxation, The Cat gently and quietly moves and lays by my legs on my left side. I drift off - meditating or sleeping; at peace; calm; warm; comfortable. I always get up refreshed. On my busy days, when I don't take the time for a nap or meditation session, The Cat is a little more persnickety and more inclined to bite me. I've learned that she needs this quiet time with me as much as I do. I need to polish this skill more for my every day interactions with people. Am I appreciating people for what they are and taking time to just be with them? Am I at peace and comfortable with those around me? Can people trust what I do, without fear that I will hurt them?
The Kid is deciding whether to spend nine extra months in her world-away life. If she stays, I will have one more year of vacuuming and sweeping up fur, cleaning the litter box, and making adjustments in order to take holidays or go away for a few days. If she (The Kid, not The Cat) decides to come home as planned, I will get my freedom back in just a few months from now. The Cat and I DO love and tolerate each other, but I look forward to my life being unencumbered by her. Whatever The Kid decides, eventually The Cat will move out and I will miss The Cat. Don't tell The Kid.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
The Perfect Christmas
It is Christmas Eve morning, and as I putter about my house, I am thinking about many previous Christmases. Christmas is not my favourite holiday. I like Halloween better than Christmas, even though Halloween is but one day, and Christmas is now a month long jumble of shopping, of parties, of decorating, of preparation. Maybe that's why it is not my favourite. It seems overdone. I spent many years searching for the perfect Christmas and never found it. Along the way, I created some traditions for myself and some traditions to share with The Kid and I love those. Each year there are news stories and editorials and conversations about how the true meaning of Christmas is lost and of late, concerns about this season being recognized as Christmas without recognition of all the other religious holidays this time of year. I'm tired of hearing about both. Each one of us has the opportunity to make Christmas (or any other holiday or any other day, for that matter) exactly what we want. Choose to buy into what you want. Believe or not. Celebrate or not. Say Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays. It's up to you. You decide.
It's not that I dislike Christmas; I DO like it and parts of it I love. I just no longer search for The Perfect Christmas, setting myself up for unfulfilled expectation of what it is supposed to be, exhausting myself and getting crabby by trying to do things I don't want to do and working at creating The Perfect Christmas. In ruminating through my memories this morning, I remembered some bits and pieces of my childhood Christmases. The more I relaxed and just thought, the more I remembered. That was good for me, because I thought I didn't have many childhood Christmas memories.
Three Christmas memories:
- The year I turned seven, Sister Three ordered my present from either the Sears or Eaton's catalogue. I was pestering her to see what she was ordering and of course, she wouldn't tell me. She carefully put the order form in her purse and set her purse high up on the top of the fridge, where I couldn't reach it. When she left the room, I dragged a chair over and looked. She ordered a little jewelry box that played music and had a teeny ballerina spinning endlessly! I was so excited - my excitement was more about thwarting her attempt to keep this secret from me than about the music box. I'd outsmarted her for sure! I didn't even have the chair moved back to the table when I was filled with an incredible sadness. This was no longer a surprise. I've never since wanted to know what a gift was before opening it.
- The year I turned six, Barbie dolls were THE item to have. And I didn't; there was no Barbie in my life. I wanted a Barbie so badly I ached. My teacher had arranged a gift exchange for our class and we all pulled a name out of a box and brought in small little gifts for one other class member. The teacher had "pulled" the name of a girl whose family may have been the poorest in class. This girl got a Barbie from the teacher! I was so angry; I could tell the name-pulling was rigged and a Barbie doll was far over the fifty cent limit to be spent. My family was likely the second poorest family in town and I had no Barbie doll, but this other girl got one. It was so unfair. On Christmas morning, Sister One was encouraging me to open one particular box first, but that was not the one I wanted to open. There was another gift of a more mysterious shape that I had my eye on. I very clearly remember having a tantrum and throwing the first box, and ripping the pretty paper off the second. Barbie doll clothes! How cruel for my sister to give me Barbie clothes when I didn't have a Barbie. What a mean trick to play on a little girl, who ached for a Barbie for months. The tantrum continued and finally, the first ignored box was opened. There in perfectness, was a Barbie, with short reddish hair, smiling at me. I was so ashamed and filled with guilt for not listening and having a full-blown tantrum that was more suited to a two year old. It took me many more years to truly learn to not be envious of what other people have, to look at who is less fortunate than myself, to be grateful for what I have, and to know the other box may hold my heart's desire, but the beginning of those lessons started with Barbie dolls the year I was six.
- The year I was eight, Brother One came home for Christmas with his new wife. They had gifts for us four younger siblings. They brought in bags and bags of food, including the seldom seen chips and pop. It was wondrous. My gift from Brother One and his wife that year was a Timex watch. I still have it, tucked away in my top dresser drawer. It was my first "adult" gift and the first Christmas I no longer believed in Santa Claus and the first Christmas I understood fully that my Mom could not give her children the things she so wanted to give. There were some very lean times, but we were never really hungry, and older siblings and aunts and uncles and cousins and strangers always made sure we had a gift or maybe two or three to open, and good food on the table. The sharing continued throughout the year; it was a true statement of charity beginning at home. They all helped take care of us, showering us with love, and supporting my Mom in ways physical and emotional she couldn't begin to repay. My Mom was a remarkable woman who lived her life watching her dreams shatter. In spite of that, all her children today know and understand she loved us more than life itself and sacrificed herself and her being in ways we still can't comprehend.
I haven't always had Merry Christmases, with some being shadowed by the alcoholism that is prevalent in my family, and with great stress both as a child and an adult of not having enough money to make The Perfect Christmas, and with struggling to "do it all" to turn Christmas into the carol or card I thought Christmas should be, and with the life-changing Christmas day in 1992 when my Mom died. My enjoyment of Christmas now is centered on time with family and sharing myself. I choose to believe and to make each December 25 the Perfect Christmas, for me.
It's not that I dislike Christmas; I DO like it and parts of it I love. I just no longer search for The Perfect Christmas, setting myself up for unfulfilled expectation of what it is supposed to be, exhausting myself and getting crabby by trying to do things I don't want to do and working at creating The Perfect Christmas. In ruminating through my memories this morning, I remembered some bits and pieces of my childhood Christmases. The more I relaxed and just thought, the more I remembered. That was good for me, because I thought I didn't have many childhood Christmas memories.
Three Christmas memories:
- The year I turned seven, Sister Three ordered my present from either the Sears or Eaton's catalogue. I was pestering her to see what she was ordering and of course, she wouldn't tell me. She carefully put the order form in her purse and set her purse high up on the top of the fridge, where I couldn't reach it. When she left the room, I dragged a chair over and looked. She ordered a little jewelry box that played music and had a teeny ballerina spinning endlessly! I was so excited - my excitement was more about thwarting her attempt to keep this secret from me than about the music box. I'd outsmarted her for sure! I didn't even have the chair moved back to the table when I was filled with an incredible sadness. This was no longer a surprise. I've never since wanted to know what a gift was before opening it.
- The year I turned six, Barbie dolls were THE item to have. And I didn't; there was no Barbie in my life. I wanted a Barbie so badly I ached. My teacher had arranged a gift exchange for our class and we all pulled a name out of a box and brought in small little gifts for one other class member. The teacher had "pulled" the name of a girl whose family may have been the poorest in class. This girl got a Barbie from the teacher! I was so angry; I could tell the name-pulling was rigged and a Barbie doll was far over the fifty cent limit to be spent. My family was likely the second poorest family in town and I had no Barbie doll, but this other girl got one. It was so unfair. On Christmas morning, Sister One was encouraging me to open one particular box first, but that was not the one I wanted to open. There was another gift of a more mysterious shape that I had my eye on. I very clearly remember having a tantrum and throwing the first box, and ripping the pretty paper off the second. Barbie doll clothes! How cruel for my sister to give me Barbie clothes when I didn't have a Barbie. What a mean trick to play on a little girl, who ached for a Barbie for months. The tantrum continued and finally, the first ignored box was opened. There in perfectness, was a Barbie, with short reddish hair, smiling at me. I was so ashamed and filled with guilt for not listening and having a full-blown tantrum that was more suited to a two year old. It took me many more years to truly learn to not be envious of what other people have, to look at who is less fortunate than myself, to be grateful for what I have, and to know the other box may hold my heart's desire, but the beginning of those lessons started with Barbie dolls the year I was six.
- The year I was eight, Brother One came home for Christmas with his new wife. They had gifts for us four younger siblings. They brought in bags and bags of food, including the seldom seen chips and pop. It was wondrous. My gift from Brother One and his wife that year was a Timex watch. I still have it, tucked away in my top dresser drawer. It was my first "adult" gift and the first Christmas I no longer believed in Santa Claus and the first Christmas I understood fully that my Mom could not give her children the things she so wanted to give. There were some very lean times, but we were never really hungry, and older siblings and aunts and uncles and cousins and strangers always made sure we had a gift or maybe two or three to open, and good food on the table. The sharing continued throughout the year; it was a true statement of charity beginning at home. They all helped take care of us, showering us with love, and supporting my Mom in ways physical and emotional she couldn't begin to repay. My Mom was a remarkable woman who lived her life watching her dreams shatter. In spite of that, all her children today know and understand she loved us more than life itself and sacrificed herself and her being in ways we still can't comprehend.
I haven't always had Merry Christmases, with some being shadowed by the alcoholism that is prevalent in my family, and with great stress both as a child and an adult of not having enough money to make The Perfect Christmas, and with struggling to "do it all" to turn Christmas into the carol or card I thought Christmas should be, and with the life-changing Christmas day in 1992 when my Mom died. My enjoyment of Christmas now is centered on time with family and sharing myself. I choose to believe and to make each December 25 the Perfect Christmas, for me.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
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.
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.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
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.
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.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
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.
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.
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