I just returned home after my first Trager session in 5+ years. Let’s just say I’m waaaaay relaxed. Good thing I already took care of today’s must-do list because now I’m off to put on my jammie pants and melt onto the couch.
Last night I met with the young leaders of the Sunrise Movement in Colorado, and heard some tough news. As I listened, I slouched lower and then lower in my chair. At the same time, I noticed the young woman across from me sitting straighter, back erect and strong. It was as if I was a cautionary tale. The lower I went, the higher she sat. No caving in for her. It was a beautiful sight.
I’d like to be more mindful of sitting and standing tall, no matter the situation.
A good stance and posture reflect a proper state of mind. ~ Morihei Ueshiba
My son Zebu had all four wisdom teeth removed yesterday, so I’ve been on ice pack and medication duty. Every 20 minutes, he applies two bags of frozen peas to his chipmunk cheeks. The peas are held in a sling we made using the leg from an old pair of my flannel pajama bottoms which is then tied around his head. After 20 minutes of ice, he goes another 20 minutes without. Ice on, ice off. I’m the timekeeper which means it’s easier to stay close.
So how are we spending our time? Watching the Great British Baking Show, of course.
Actually, I’ve never watched the program before even though all sorts of folks on Twitter rave about it. A show about baking? Who cares? I’m the woman who can’t get cakes out of pans in one piece and so spackle with tons of frosting to hold them together. I enjoy eating baked goods, but couldn’t care less how they come about.
Well, I stand corrected. It’s a very interesting and entertaining show. In fact, I haven’t really accomplished much of anything today besides watching those brave people create amazingly beautiful baked goods (along with some Tracy-worthy disasters). Zebu is napping now, but I’m confident later on we’ll tune back in to see how the remaining bakers fare.
The one downside to the Great British Baking Show? It makes me very, very hungry.
Yesterday I spent four long and very cold hours in a library parking lot. I was there to educate people on Colorado’s Prop 112. I was hoping voters would support the proposition which would’ve created safer setbacks for fracking sites. I was hoping they’d agree that industrial oil & gas operations don’t belong nears schools and communities, and that public health and safety is paramount.
Some of the people I spoke with definitely cared. Some, however, didn’t think children’s health was at risk. My most gut-wrenching interaction in those four hours was with a young woman holding an exceedingly smiley and cute toddler. As I explained to her I was out there because of my concern for children’s well-being, she unzipped her son’s hoodie and showed me the shirt underneath. Someone in their household had dressed that small little boy with the beautiful smile in a NO ON PROP 112 shirt.
The oil & gas industry dumped millions of dollars into defeating Prop 112 and yesterday it succeeded. And today? Well, I just logged onto Twitter and saw this:
The site that is now on fire? It’s owned by Noble Energy, one of the biggest contributors to the No on 112 campaign.
It’d almost be funny if the whole situation wasn’t so horrifying.
Some days are so hard that I’m tempted to give up and assume the fetal position. Over the last couple days a young relative was diagnosed with a health condition and then a neighborhood family suffered a heartbreaking tragedy. I’ve felt overwhelmed and weepy. But I’ve also experienced joy as I hugged my son, watched a magpie take flight, and listened to my snoring dogs as they snuggle together in their bed. I’ve made progress on my new writing project and shared laughter with my visiting brother-in-law. I didn’t give up and curl into a ball.
Life is a series of sunshine and shit-storms, and as long as I remember to think of it that way, the better I cope. The key (for me, anyway) is tapping into the light amidst the dark. Finding the balance. I was reminded of that as I struggled to balance the light and dark in this photo of Marcel.
The result is nowhere near perfect, but then again, neither is life.
Yesterday Zebu had surgery to reconstruct his ACL. We were all rooting for ACL-only intervention because that would mean a mere 10 days on crutches. Alas, while poking around in Zebu’s knee, the surgeon confirmed a couple tears in the meniscus which means Zebu is now on crutches for six weeks. The good news is the surgery went well.
This morning a nice man delivered and set up a Continuous Passive Motion machine that will help Zebu’s circulation and flexibility. He’s supposed to do a minimum of six hours per day. That’s a lot of hours. But as I pointed out: he’s got nothing better to do right now.
I had no idea way back when that basketball could be so incredibly hard on the body. Would it have changed anything? Probably not. Basketball was his passion.
Still. I probably owe an apology to football.
I just completed five days of a fasting-mimicking diet in which my caloric intake was greatly reduced. I embarked on this deprivation adventure because I’ve been feeling the effects of stress on my body and wanted to give my system a reboot. My sister and her husband have been doing the diet and their experiences convinced me it was worth a try. (Shout-out to my sis for all her guidance!)
Day One wasn’t bad. Day Two was rough. Days Three-Five were not too bad (my foggy brain went away and I was able to resume light exercise/walking).
Today I am exceedingly thankful that I do not have to measure every bit of food that goes in my mouth.
Despite the fact that I chose FLEXIBILITY as this year’s guide word, I’m feeling seriously inflexible right now. In the past month, I haven’t been consistent with my routines and have been sitting way too much, for way too long.
This is my reminder to move, stretch, and experience life outside my writing space.
I just got home from a run in which my right hip got SO tight, I was forced to stop running. The pain was close to excruciating. It was definitely in the oh-my-effing-goddess category, and if I hadn’t known about the mind-body connection, I might’ve panicked and thought I’d suffered some horrible injury.
But I knew better.
So I stood there in the street and talked out loud to my brain. I said, “Brain, I get it. You know that I’m under a great deal of stress lately. You know I was just now thinking about how slow I’m running, how tired I’m feeling, how hard life seems to be these days. I was feeling sad-angry-depressed. And then BOOM, my hip locked up. But guess what? This bogus pain, that is NOT rooted in any kind of physical reality, will only get in the way of me being active and coping with those emotions. Running is what I need to do to live my life. Your job is to make sure I don’t trip on anything. Your job is to process info from my eyes so that I can enjoy the signs of spring and process the bird songs I hear, so I can identify those feathered friends. Your job is to work with my body that absolutely requires movement in order to handle stress. I must be active. Let’s work as a team.”
And then I started running again. I’ll be honest, it didn’t feel great. My hip was still tight, still painful, still annoying as hell. But as I ran, I talked some more. I pointed out to my brain that I was running, that the bogus pain hadn’t achieved the desired effect of making me focus on the pain so that I’d “forget” about the hard stuff in my life. Instead, I was going to continue running so that I could cope with the many challenges that wouldn’t just magically disappear because my hip was locked in muscle-spasm-hell. By the time I finished my run, my hip had loosened. It’s sore after spasming, but there’s no lasting damage.
My brain is being very tricky lately. Last week, I suffered tightness and pain in my neck unlike anything I’ve ever experienced (Zippy could hear the vertebrae click when I tilted my head forward). I have to admit, I got caught up in that one and didn’t immediately recognize it as mind-body stuff for a couple days. But as soon as I started talking to my brain, it loosened up. It’s still not 100% better, but I am being active and living my life. I have not given in to a bogus “injury” that isn’t rooted in any kind of reality.
If anyone’s still reading and is interested, there are forums in which people discuss all sorts of physical conditions that they’ve been able to treat as mind-body conditions. Our brains are very crafty and will go to great lengths to manufacture pain to distract us from life’s stresses, difficulties, and anger-inducing situations. Sometimes we gotta be smarter than our brains.
Whew. I’m feeling whupped, which reminds me how exhausted Zippy was after I labored for 26 hours to bring Zebu into the world. I’ve teased him over the years for being more tired than me.
Today, I get it.
Today I went through my email and unsubscribed from every political, environmental, and news organization that sends me updates, action alerts, petitions, pleas for money, links to never-ending bad news, etc.
I’m worn out and run-down. Exhausted.
Between the constant assault on the planet and the constant assault on the most vulnerable/powerless people of the planet, I’ve had enough. (Note: These assaults aren’t new, just more blatant than before.)
I’ve fought the good fight for many years, and I know I’m needed now. But I also know I’m no good to anyone or anything if I’m not healthy. So I’m temporarily changing my status from Activist to Inactive.
Today I’m taking action for me.
I plan on watching lots of cavorting goat videos.
That bears repeating: today, I got good news.
Last week, I went to Planned Parenthood because of a health concern. While there, I had a breast exam that revealed a mass in my right breast. I was referred to an imaging place for my first ever mammogram (along with sonogram and possible biopsy). I was also given a list of surgeons. Cue the anxiety.
Today I went to Invision Sally Jobe where I was treated with much kindness AND learned that there are no concerns regarding my breast tissue! The technician who did the sonogram told me as much when she went off to share her results with the doctor who had already seen the mammogram results. The sonogram tech left me alone in a room with this framed photo:
For the next ten minutes, I gazed at these fascinating women as I waited for final confirmation that all was clear on my breast-ern front.* I spent the time trying to decide which cowgirl I most resemble (in attitude, looks, fashion sense). I liked the attitude of the first woman on the left with her hands on her hips, but had to acknowledge that I probably wouldn’t do that in a group photo. I decided that while the woman third from the left is wearing lipstick (which I also love to wear), she’s a little too put-together for me. I eventually settled on the woman fourth from the right as most representative of who I perceive myself to be, and then was pleased to notice she’s holding hands with the woman to her left. Really, they all seem to be pretty damned cool women** and I would be happy to embody any of their energy (although the second woman from the left is (A) without a hat in the sun *gasp* and (B) wearing either a shiny track suit or pre-disco-era clothing, neither of which are in my fashion wheelhouse.)
So now I’m home. I immediately called to cancel my Friday appointment with the surgeon, and then settled in to bask in my good news. I also asked Zippy to help document today with a photo of this HAPPY COWGIRL.***
*This was Zippy’s suggestion for wording of the first text I sent after learning the news.
** Confession: It took me a while to catch on, but I finally realized that the fourth woman from the left and the fourth woman from the right are sisters, possibly twins. I mean, once I noticed it, I was kinda embarrassed it took me that long to see the obvious.
***Note: I’m wearing the lucky pants that have brought me good news during two dental appointments (including the news that I DID NOT NEED A ROOT CANAL) and now today’s excellent breast-related news.
Last week I was in Florida and while there, I went running for the first time in a month. As a result of all those weeks off, I ran slower than usual.
When I hit the 3-mile mark, I stopped running and began my cool-down walk. Almost immediately my brain started beating me up: you’re used to running at elevation and this was running at sea level! You’re used to running up and down hills, and this was running on mostly flat! You’re slow, slow slow. Old, old, old. Sad, sad, sad.
As I walked on the path through the woods, I regretted the health issues that had prevented me running. I regretted losing the fitness level I’d worked hard to achieve. I regretted my loss of muscle, stamina, and lung power.
I admit to feeling a wee bit defeated.
Then there was a WHOOSH and SQUAWK as something dropped from the tree above and landed next to my feet: Two woodpeckers, one on the back of the other, briefly wrestled on the path before separating and flying off to different trees.
And just like that, my mood lifted. I realized I was going to be all right. I knew I’d regain my strength, just as I knew that it was a gift to be able to up and run three miles after time off. How could I not know?! I’d just witnessed the miracle of wrestling woodpeckers!!!
I’m grateful I could see past the pity party to read it.
The bad news?
I’m suddenly feeling a bit rundown
and kinda puny
which is triggering pissed-off thoughts
ARE YOU FREAKIN’ KIDDING ME?
AUTUMN IS JUST BARELY, OFFICIALLY HERE
AND I’M ALREADY GETTING SICK?!
The good news?
I’ve hit my page goal every day this week, including today,
which means that despite
the fact that humanity is failing on a global level,
(a hugely depressing truth that’s undoubtedly contributing to my
all does not suck.
My plan of action?
Take it easy and repeat my new mantra:
ALL DOES NOT SUCK
ALL DOES NOT SUCK
ALL DOES NOT SUCK
I’m an old dog; I don’t get too excited.
I don’t get caught up in all the mass hysteria.
I literally made myself ill in 2004 working against a second G.W. Bush/Cheney term, and today saw a photo of the radiant Michelle Obama embracing the loathesome Bush who created the cyle of death and destruction that continues today. Seeing them together like that was a kick to the gut.
And then I realized I shouldn’t be at all surprised.
Michelle’s husband expanded many of the immoral programs Bush put in place (drone program, for example), giving those Republican programs a bipartisan blessing that effectively cemented them as permanent U.S. policies. Now we’re about to have Round Two of a Clinton presidency, and the power structure keeps rolling along.
An oligarchy runs this country and exploits the rest of the planet, and while it infuriates me, I refuse to make myself sick over it.
Life is better than death, I believe, if only because it is less boring,
and because it has fresh peaches in it.
~ Alice Walker