Last night I was eating a delicious piece of candy I love sugar, especially when it's covered by chocolate! Suddenly I was aware that there was a piece that was extremely hard. When I fished it out of my mouth I discovered that yet another of my teeth had broken off at the roots.
Sigh...it didn't hurt...it just gave up. So now I have an even bigger space where my upper teeth should be. Thank goodness that when I lived in Portland, Social Services actually paid for a dentist to crown my two front teeth. They are now two of the only 4 teeth I still have on the top level. Oh, the roots to the broken teeth are still there. Roots that abcess far too easily.
I am eager to have them all removed. I'm hoping, praying that my health will improve when I no longer fight this constant battle.
I have come to understand that I am extremely vain. I liked the way that I looked with teeth. After my parents sacrificed to get me braces my teeth were lovely. I often had people tell me that I had a beautiful smile. I liked hearing that.
Nobody would tell me that now. I look very much like a chipmunk. Remember how they only have two large teeth in front? Chewing is very entertaining. How much can you chew without teeth?
I know that it will take awhile for my gums to heal after the extractions. It will take awhile for me to get used to dentures. I still know that it will be better than it is now. It will be awesome to just see myself with teeth, even if I can't use them to chew for awhile!
In my late teens and early 20's I had nightmares of my teeth breaking to pieces and falling out. I studied dream psychology and found out that those dreams were showing a fear of lack of control. I no longer have to dream about my teeth falling out, and breaking off, it has become my reality.
I do not have the confidence to try to approach anyone to sell my books with these raggedy, jaggedy mess of teeth. All I have to do is to open my mouth and they will not listen to another word I say. I know that people are judgmental about bad teeth. I know this because I used to be.
I worked with a kind man who had all his teeth pulled in his 20's. He grew up in a desperately poor family. They never had money for tooth work. When I met him I thought that he was at least 60. He would have many days that he didn't wear his dentures. They did not fit properly. They caused him pain and so he would just go without them. I thought he was at least 60. He was in his early 40's.
Children growing up now do not have the benefit that I did of proper dental work. It's prohibitively expensive to get a tooth filled, or teeth cleaned. Unless you have a dental benefit through your employer I do not know how you could afford to keep your children's teeth healthy.
I remember an appointment with the dentist when I was 11 or 12. He just checked my teeth for decay. It cost $13.00. THIRTEEN DOLLARS! The same appointment now would cost at least $60.00. Our middle class income has NOT kept pace with inflation.
So is there a point to this post? I guess the point is that I needed to vent a bit about the situation that I am currently facing. I DO think that dentist's should have a sliding scale of charge for people who can't afford to get their children's teeth cared for, forget their own.
I also think that Social Services should understand that just because I live with my daughters (because I can't afford appropriate housing on my own), they should not count my daughter's income as though it is mine. I should still be able to get medical and dental assistance.
Venting is done. I wish that I had the answer to these problems. If I DID have the answer I would not need to vent. Anybody out there that knows these answers?
UPDATE: It was harder than I thought to become toothless. Suddenly the face looking back at me in the mirror looked about 20 years older. I still can't wear my bottom plate. Bone deterioration has left little for the plate to be attached. I had implants placed in my lower jaw, but I can't afford the $1,400.00 price to get my dentures prepared for that. (I didn't realize that cost was involved).
On the other hand, my health HAS improved. I have been able to make goals and actually meet them. That is such a freeing thing, when you know that you can plan for the future!
Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass....it's about learning to dance in the rain!
Thursday, April 16, 2015
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
A New Type of Journey
In the post I just wrote I acknowledged the fact that I am old. There are certain types of challenges that I'm facing as an old woman. My beloved daughters do not want me to "own" being old. They want me to be young. They watched their Father die when he was a mere 54. I have been advised that I will live at least to 95 preferably to 120. When I suggested that if I made it to 120 I would be a shadow of a human lying in a bed going blah, blah, de blah blah. They replied, "Yes, but you will still be with us!"
However, moving my way through life I have had seasons of "repair," for this body, and seasons of just radiant joy in enjoying the gifts that having a mortal body gives me. This year is a season of repair. A season of healing.
The Bible has a wonderful scripture that says, "To everything turn, turn, turn, there is a season, turn, turn, turn, and a time to every purpose under heaven." This is that type of season.
My poor teeth. They have served me ever so well. This fact can be attested when a glance is made at my current 220 pound framework. I have a firm foundation. I'm a curvaceous cutie. Or as my sweetheart used to tell me, "You're Rubinesque!"
My dear parents sacrificed a great deal to pay one thousand dollars to get my teeth straightened. That would be about 5 thousand dollars now. At the end of my teen years I faced the world with glistening, beautiful, white teeth. It was a huge confidence booster. Before braces I had too many teeth in a too small mouth. I had my Father's rather large teeth in my Mother's rather small mouth. My oldest Brother shared a similar fate. I still am a trifle jealous of my beautiful sister who had and has perfect teeth. I did say just a trifle. She's beautiful all the way through and I no longer let jealousy hold my love for her back. My Brother also had braces, but he achieved them in his 30's. He was and is so handsome that crooked teeth were more about good health.
Now, I stand on the threshold of the removal of all those teeth. Well, there aren't so very many left. A mere 14 teeth stand between me and a new life with dentures. Am I embarrassed to admit that I will have false teeth? Not even a little. I will be filled with gratitude to smile and not have embarrassing gray, rotten teeth, with little jaggedy, raggedy broken parts left.
Why on earth would anyone post about this subject? I do so with the hope that there is someone in the Cyber world who will read of my experience and receive courage or comfort in a common journey.
It is not just my teeth that will be removed this year. Both of my knees have been well used. I dance. Sometimes the dance is performed in a wheelchair, or regular chair, but I DANCE! I have promised myself that if all I can move is my eyes, or my soul...I WILL DANCE!
Two miserable knees, that have literally been knocked sideways hinder my process. I use medication to palliate the worst of the hideous pain but there are days that I simply can't face walking up and down our stairs, let alone dressing and going out in the world.
I went to my dentist to have molds made, and measurements made, and choices made to the color of my dentures. I admire my dentist. He is not only proficient at his craft, but he is a deeply spiritual man. He is the unpaid shepherd of his religious flock.
The assistant came to me with two denture pieces to decide what color my dentures should be. I suddenly realized that she was holding up the pieces next to my teeth. When I said, "Wait, are you trying to match the color of what teeth I have left? They are rotten, nasty. I want dentures that AREN'T rotten and nasty!"
She said, well this is the color used the most often. (There was very much an unstated, AT YOUR AGE).
I replied, "My teeth are awful. They are all damaged and rotten. Why on earth would I want dentures that are the same color?"
She then showed me a lighter tone and said, "Well this is the color next to it. Is this color ok?"
I wasn't really certain that I appreciated the slightly lighter gray tone that she was showing me. After she left to take care of some other business, and the dentist was working with someone else, I got up and looked at the colors of dentures that she hadn't shown me.
When the dentist returned I said, "Is there some reason that I'm missing why I would want dentures that look old and dingy?"
He said, "We have found that lighter shades of color do not look realistic. So we prefer to use these colors. Most people do not want others to realize that they have dentures." (Not an exact quote of what he said, but the meaning is there).
I said, "I have been battling with my rotten teeth for at least 10 years. Now my daughters are helping me to get the old rotten pieces removed and dentures in place. I am NOT trying to hide the fact that I'm getting dentures. I'm quite proud of the idea. I'm a rather open person. Those people that I care about will know for a fact that I have dentures! So why would I want gray, dismal dentures?"
He didn't really have a response for that. I think my attitude was a bit of a surprise for him. An almost old woman who wants white dentures? What?
I loved it when he measure the two front teeth that I do have (they are both crowns, but lovely crowns), and said, "Your teeth are a good length for us to make the dentures." Did you hear that Mom, Dad? My teeth were a good length! So even if there was that too little of a mouth for too many teeth thing, you gave me teeth that were a good length!
The hardest part of all of this was the financial part. I have fought ever since Nyle's death to find a way to get my teeth cared for without having my daughters future compromised by debt for my rotten teeth. I tried many, many different avenues for charitable assistance. There was always some reason that I didn't qualify.
When we lived in Portland I had an assistant who came three times a week for four hours each time. She helped me with the tasks that I'm not supposed to do. Things like "Dishes, laundry, vacuuming, shopping for groceries, and sometimes helping me in and out of the bathtub depending on the level my disability was at. In addition they paid for any dental needs, and any and all medical needs.
We moved to Utah because our two beautiful daughters grew up and went to school in the general area. We also moved because my Mama was almost 90 and needed more care. Then there were the myriads of Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, etc. that I had been missing for almost 20 years.
I made the fateful assumption that I would be able to qualify for a similar program here in Utah. I could not have been more wrong. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day saints is very strong here. I am a member. I have actually had social services suggest that I need to turn to my family and/or clergy.
So much for separation of church and state, right?
I'm so beyond excited for this to be over and done. One of my dear friends who also battles the fights of disability had to have all her teeth extracted at the young age of 45. She is such a light, such a positive soul. She said, "The day they pulled my teeth I went to a movie with a friend. Once my gums were healed and my dentures were made I would go to bed, take out my teeth, and eat chocolate. No worries about tooth decay any more! I would go to the dentist, take out my dentures, hand them to him, and just SMILE! No more drilling, filling, or the other horrors of dentistry!"
I will strive to be positive as I march through this part of my journey this year. I am blessed with a wonderful support network. I know that I will come out of this year's challenges BIONIC! Oh watch that girl chew! It's amazing! Watch that girl hike/dance/walk ferociously! Two new knees, and a beautiful grin! I'm SO EXCITED!
However, moving my way through life I have had seasons of "repair," for this body, and seasons of just radiant joy in enjoying the gifts that having a mortal body gives me. This year is a season of repair. A season of healing.
The Bible has a wonderful scripture that says, "To everything turn, turn, turn, there is a season, turn, turn, turn, and a time to every purpose under heaven." This is that type of season.
My poor teeth. They have served me ever so well. This fact can be attested when a glance is made at my current 220 pound framework. I have a firm foundation. I'm a curvaceous cutie. Or as my sweetheart used to tell me, "You're Rubinesque!"
My dear parents sacrificed a great deal to pay one thousand dollars to get my teeth straightened. That would be about 5 thousand dollars now. At the end of my teen years I faced the world with glistening, beautiful, white teeth. It was a huge confidence booster. Before braces I had too many teeth in a too small mouth. I had my Father's rather large teeth in my Mother's rather small mouth. My oldest Brother shared a similar fate. I still am a trifle jealous of my beautiful sister who had and has perfect teeth. I did say just a trifle. She's beautiful all the way through and I no longer let jealousy hold my love for her back. My Brother also had braces, but he achieved them in his 30's. He was and is so handsome that crooked teeth were more about good health.
Now, I stand on the threshold of the removal of all those teeth. Well, there aren't so very many left. A mere 14 teeth stand between me and a new life with dentures. Am I embarrassed to admit that I will have false teeth? Not even a little. I will be filled with gratitude to smile and not have embarrassing gray, rotten teeth, with little jaggedy, raggedy broken parts left.
Why on earth would anyone post about this subject? I do so with the hope that there is someone in the Cyber world who will read of my experience and receive courage or comfort in a common journey.
It is not just my teeth that will be removed this year. Both of my knees have been well used. I dance. Sometimes the dance is performed in a wheelchair, or regular chair, but I DANCE! I have promised myself that if all I can move is my eyes, or my soul...I WILL DANCE!
Two miserable knees, that have literally been knocked sideways hinder my process. I use medication to palliate the worst of the hideous pain but there are days that I simply can't face walking up and down our stairs, let alone dressing and going out in the world.
I went to my dentist to have molds made, and measurements made, and choices made to the color of my dentures. I admire my dentist. He is not only proficient at his craft, but he is a deeply spiritual man. He is the unpaid shepherd of his religious flock.
The assistant came to me with two denture pieces to decide what color my dentures should be. I suddenly realized that she was holding up the pieces next to my teeth. When I said, "Wait, are you trying to match the color of what teeth I have left? They are rotten, nasty. I want dentures that AREN'T rotten and nasty!"
She said, well this is the color used the most often. (There was very much an unstated, AT YOUR AGE).
I replied, "My teeth are awful. They are all damaged and rotten. Why on earth would I want dentures that are the same color?"
She then showed me a lighter tone and said, "Well this is the color next to it. Is this color ok?"
I wasn't really certain that I appreciated the slightly lighter gray tone that she was showing me. After she left to take care of some other business, and the dentist was working with someone else, I got up and looked at the colors of dentures that she hadn't shown me.
When the dentist returned I said, "Is there some reason that I'm missing why I would want dentures that look old and dingy?"
He said, "We have found that lighter shades of color do not look realistic. So we prefer to use these colors. Most people do not want others to realize that they have dentures." (Not an exact quote of what he said, but the meaning is there).
I said, "I have been battling with my rotten teeth for at least 10 years. Now my daughters are helping me to get the old rotten pieces removed and dentures in place. I am NOT trying to hide the fact that I'm getting dentures. I'm quite proud of the idea. I'm a rather open person. Those people that I care about will know for a fact that I have dentures! So why would I want gray, dismal dentures?"
He didn't really have a response for that. I think my attitude was a bit of a surprise for him. An almost old woman who wants white dentures? What?
I loved it when he measure the two front teeth that I do have (they are both crowns, but lovely crowns), and said, "Your teeth are a good length for us to make the dentures." Did you hear that Mom, Dad? My teeth were a good length! So even if there was that too little of a mouth for too many teeth thing, you gave me teeth that were a good length!
The hardest part of all of this was the financial part. I have fought ever since Nyle's death to find a way to get my teeth cared for without having my daughters future compromised by debt for my rotten teeth. I tried many, many different avenues for charitable assistance. There was always some reason that I didn't qualify.
When we lived in Portland I had an assistant who came three times a week for four hours each time. She helped me with the tasks that I'm not supposed to do. Things like "Dishes, laundry, vacuuming, shopping for groceries, and sometimes helping me in and out of the bathtub depending on the level my disability was at. In addition they paid for any dental needs, and any and all medical needs.
We moved to Utah because our two beautiful daughters grew up and went to school in the general area. We also moved because my Mama was almost 90 and needed more care. Then there were the myriads of Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, etc. that I had been missing for almost 20 years.
I made the fateful assumption that I would be able to qualify for a similar program here in Utah. I could not have been more wrong. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day saints is very strong here. I am a member. I have actually had social services suggest that I need to turn to my family and/or clergy.
So much for separation of church and state, right?
I'm so beyond excited for this to be over and done. One of my dear friends who also battles the fights of disability had to have all her teeth extracted at the young age of 45. She is such a light, such a positive soul. She said, "The day they pulled my teeth I went to a movie with a friend. Once my gums were healed and my dentures were made I would go to bed, take out my teeth, and eat chocolate. No worries about tooth decay any more! I would go to the dentist, take out my dentures, hand them to him, and just SMILE! No more drilling, filling, or the other horrors of dentistry!"
I will strive to be positive as I march through this part of my journey this year. I am blessed with a wonderful support network. I know that I will come out of this year's challenges BIONIC! Oh watch that girl chew! It's amazing! Watch that girl hike/dance/walk ferociously! Two new knees, and a beautiful grin! I'm SO EXCITED!
Where are you on your Journey?
I'm old. I declare that with a certain type of pride. After all, the doctors told my parents that two years would be the quantity of my life. Breast cancer, many car accidents (there was that naughty deer standing in the middle of the road on a curve) later and I'M STILL HERE!
I know exactly the moment when it became apparent that I was sliding down the slippery slope of middle age to old. I was listening to music on the radio. They announced that they were going to play some "retro" types of music. Then they played the music of my youth. "Retro music" indeed!
I can quantify my years easily by the days, weeks, months, and years that I have lived. They have piled up around me. Sometimes it feels as though I have to knock some of them back, climb out of those large stacks to move forward. I look in the mirror and it seems as though daily there are new lines and creases. My hair is not really auburn. Gun metal gray would describe it's actual tone more realistically. Thank goodness for Loreal warm auburn dye!
When I was a wee lass, not old yet, not old at all, my beloved Grandma came to the dinner table. (The only time I beat her there). She had a look of surprise on her beloved face. She turned to me and said, "I just had the oddest experience." I responded, "What was that Grandma?" "I just looked in the mirror and an old lady looked back at me."
I remember thinking, "Well, of course Grandma because you're really, really old!" Ah the innocence of youth. Somehow I did not understand that the spirit within her all too mortal body was still young, still 21 and knowing that all of life, not just a small parcel, was ahead of her. Now I understand with full force.
Is it BAD to be old? All of these 58 years that I've lived I've heard the quote, "Beats the alternative." Oh I hear protests from friends about the new aches, pains, and surgeries that they face. Yet I feel great joy in the knowledge that I did NOT die at two years of age. To me each year, whether good or less than good, is an award that says, "Congratulations, you've made it one more year!"
"Women never have to tell their age." This quote has been a frequent statement in my life. Ask me. Ask me how old I am. I am NOT 29 or 39...no soon, I will be 59! I'm ever so excited! What an amazing thing to be this age.
Perspective is a wonderful thing. I have lived through so many difficulties. The lesson I have learned is that good and bad pass through us in this life. The secret when facing very, very hard is what I have just mentioned. Let it pass through us! Don't lodge the hard, bad, and ugly in any corner or crevice of your heart and soul. Each and every night release all the bad. Let it slide away, far far away. I visualize a giant sink with an enormous drain. I pile all the sorrows that try to own me in that giant sink and watch them slide into that enormous drain, and down, down, down away from me.
Does it always work? I am not quite perfect yet...not even close. Yet in sliding those nagging troubles away and down that drain I give myself the gift of renewal. This morning is BRAND NEW! It is completely unscored by all that has passed.
Learn from the past, live in the present, plan for the future. These are the words that inspire me...inspire me to count each and every day as a win! I'm still here.
I wish to end with a story that happened to me. When I was battling breast cancer at the ripe old age of 34 I went to the radiation clinic one bleak seeming day. My attitude was lower than the roots of an old tree. Fear pervaded my soul. I was ever so frightened that I would not live to see our beautiful daughters grow. There was also the fear that I would have to leave my sweetheart far earlier than I wanted.
Sitting in the waiting room was a very old man. It was quite obvious from his emaciated, battle scarred body that he was terminal. He gave me an enormous smile. Then he said words that have echoed through my soul since that time. "Remember, every day above ground is a good one!"
Here I sit all these years later still "Above ground." I witnessed the beauty of my daughters growing, and becoming the amazing women they are. My sweetheart and I spent another 18 years of joy together. I'm surrounded by windows filled with the loveliness of spring. My brand new day lies before me with countless possibilities. I'm still "above ground," not only in a physical way, today my attitude, my spirits are also high and far "above ground."
I know exactly the moment when it became apparent that I was sliding down the slippery slope of middle age to old. I was listening to music on the radio. They announced that they were going to play some "retro" types of music. Then they played the music of my youth. "Retro music" indeed!
I can quantify my years easily by the days, weeks, months, and years that I have lived. They have piled up around me. Sometimes it feels as though I have to knock some of them back, climb out of those large stacks to move forward. I look in the mirror and it seems as though daily there are new lines and creases. My hair is not really auburn. Gun metal gray would describe it's actual tone more realistically. Thank goodness for Loreal warm auburn dye!
When I was a wee lass, not old yet, not old at all, my beloved Grandma came to the dinner table. (The only time I beat her there). She had a look of surprise on her beloved face. She turned to me and said, "I just had the oddest experience." I responded, "What was that Grandma?" "I just looked in the mirror and an old lady looked back at me."
I remember thinking, "Well, of course Grandma because you're really, really old!" Ah the innocence of youth. Somehow I did not understand that the spirit within her all too mortal body was still young, still 21 and knowing that all of life, not just a small parcel, was ahead of her. Now I understand with full force.
Is it BAD to be old? All of these 58 years that I've lived I've heard the quote, "Beats the alternative." Oh I hear protests from friends about the new aches, pains, and surgeries that they face. Yet I feel great joy in the knowledge that I did NOT die at two years of age. To me each year, whether good or less than good, is an award that says, "Congratulations, you've made it one more year!"
"Women never have to tell their age." This quote has been a frequent statement in my life. Ask me. Ask me how old I am. I am NOT 29 or 39...no soon, I will be 59! I'm ever so excited! What an amazing thing to be this age.
Perspective is a wonderful thing. I have lived through so many difficulties. The lesson I have learned is that good and bad pass through us in this life. The secret when facing very, very hard is what I have just mentioned. Let it pass through us! Don't lodge the hard, bad, and ugly in any corner or crevice of your heart and soul. Each and every night release all the bad. Let it slide away, far far away. I visualize a giant sink with an enormous drain. I pile all the sorrows that try to own me in that giant sink and watch them slide into that enormous drain, and down, down, down away from me.
Does it always work? I am not quite perfect yet...not even close. Yet in sliding those nagging troubles away and down that drain I give myself the gift of renewal. This morning is BRAND NEW! It is completely unscored by all that has passed.
Learn from the past, live in the present, plan for the future. These are the words that inspire me...inspire me to count each and every day as a win! I'm still here.
I wish to end with a story that happened to me. When I was battling breast cancer at the ripe old age of 34 I went to the radiation clinic one bleak seeming day. My attitude was lower than the roots of an old tree. Fear pervaded my soul. I was ever so frightened that I would not live to see our beautiful daughters grow. There was also the fear that I would have to leave my sweetheart far earlier than I wanted.
Sitting in the waiting room was a very old man. It was quite obvious from his emaciated, battle scarred body that he was terminal. He gave me an enormous smile. Then he said words that have echoed through my soul since that time. "Remember, every day above ground is a good one!"
Here I sit all these years later still "Above ground." I witnessed the beauty of my daughters growing, and becoming the amazing women they are. My sweetheart and I spent another 18 years of joy together. I'm surrounded by windows filled with the loveliness of spring. My brand new day lies before me with countless possibilities. I'm still "above ground," not only in a physical way, today my attitude, my spirits are also high and far "above ground."
Saturday, April 11, 2015
Frustration - First Thing in the Morning?
I started sewing a lovely summer house dress last Spring. That's right, one whole year ago. In the beastly heat of summer I do NOT like to wear denim jeans. Somehow they just feel much warmer than a loose fitting dress. It's still exciting for me to pick fabric, connect it to a pattern, and create something original for me.
The problem is that I never really learned about all the workings of a sewing machine. For example, what is the name of the two pieces of metal that lie behind the bobbin? I have Googled, Asked, and used various and sundry ways of trying to find this information. I found one DIY video that gave instructions, but while she was teaching her hands were in front of the pieces.
1. What is the name of those pieces?
2. How do I put them back in the machine?
3. How many years have I been sewing (around 40) and still don't know what these pieces are called, and how to reinstall them?
4. It really would be cheaper to go to a thrift store and purchase a ready made summer dress. Why do I still feel this compulsion to create something of my own?
5. Living with my two beautiful adult daughters there is already a plethora of clothing in the home. Why do I feel as though I need to make something new?
6. Why am I writing this silly post about my frustration with my sewing machine?
I watch the "reality" show "Project Runway," about the designers who create clothing according to instructions for multiple tasks. It whets my appetite to sew, design, and create something that is absolutely specific to me.
I LOVE, ADORE, fashion. I toyed with the idea of becoming a fashion designer in my youth. I have always been fascinated with fashion, both from a historical vantage point (Did you know that in Egypt it was just fine not to wear anything on the top of you, but heaven forbid, don't show your ELBOWS) and a current point of view. I gave the idea up because I can NOT draw. Drawing is an important skill when you are creating a garment by making your own pattern pieces.
At darn near sixty years of age, I have determined to follow "classic" fashion styles for the rest of my life. On the other hand, I like to toss in accessory things that are fresh, and current. A classic dress can look new and chic with a new necklace, a shrug, or a cardigan. Earrings can also make a great statement.
I use fashion to cover when I'm having a tough time. "If you can't make it fake it." Is a philosophy I agree with wholeheartedly. Sometimes I can't stand the most basic of make-up, so I wear a lovely necklace, or statement earrings, or a delightful bracelet. I have discovered that if people see these things, they aren't looking as closely at this old lady with no make-up on!
Frustration can hit at any time with any activity. Do we let frustration stop us? I hope not. I am really, really, talented at being frustrated. I'm trying to learn a better skill-set than stomping around the house grumpy and annoyed like a terrible two year old. Gratefully, I can vent in my blog. I would love to hear comments about what makes you frustrated.
The problem is that I never really learned about all the workings of a sewing machine. For example, what is the name of the two pieces of metal that lie behind the bobbin? I have Googled, Asked, and used various and sundry ways of trying to find this information. I found one DIY video that gave instructions, but while she was teaching her hands were in front of the pieces.
1. What is the name of those pieces?
2. How do I put them back in the machine?
3. How many years have I been sewing (around 40) and still don't know what these pieces are called, and how to reinstall them?
4. It really would be cheaper to go to a thrift store and purchase a ready made summer dress. Why do I still feel this compulsion to create something of my own?
5. Living with my two beautiful adult daughters there is already a plethora of clothing in the home. Why do I feel as though I need to make something new?
6. Why am I writing this silly post about my frustration with my sewing machine?
I watch the "reality" show "Project Runway," about the designers who create clothing according to instructions for multiple tasks. It whets my appetite to sew, design, and create something that is absolutely specific to me.
I LOVE, ADORE, fashion. I toyed with the idea of becoming a fashion designer in my youth. I have always been fascinated with fashion, both from a historical vantage point (Did you know that in Egypt it was just fine not to wear anything on the top of you, but heaven forbid, don't show your ELBOWS) and a current point of view. I gave the idea up because I can NOT draw. Drawing is an important skill when you are creating a garment by making your own pattern pieces.
At darn near sixty years of age, I have determined to follow "classic" fashion styles for the rest of my life. On the other hand, I like to toss in accessory things that are fresh, and current. A classic dress can look new and chic with a new necklace, a shrug, or a cardigan. Earrings can also make a great statement.
I use fashion to cover when I'm having a tough time. "If you can't make it fake it." Is a philosophy I agree with wholeheartedly. Sometimes I can't stand the most basic of make-up, so I wear a lovely necklace, or statement earrings, or a delightful bracelet. I have discovered that if people see these things, they aren't looking as closely at this old lady with no make-up on!
Frustration can hit at any time with any activity. Do we let frustration stop us? I hope not. I am really, really, talented at being frustrated. I'm trying to learn a better skill-set than stomping around the house grumpy and annoyed like a terrible two year old. Gratefully, I can vent in my blog. I would love to hear comments about what makes you frustrated.
Monday, April 6, 2015
Sick, Sicker, Sickest
Being really sick from time to time has definite benefits. Before anybody hisses and quits following, or reading my comments let me explain further.
I have battled throughout my life with mind bending, soul gripping types of illness. If that hasn't been enough my husband was quite ill for the last thirty years of his life.
We both knew that we had a choice, a very, very difficult choice, but a choice nonetheless. We could choose to let our illness completely define us, (it IS a part of who I am, but not ALL of who I am) or we could focus on all the things we COULD do, not those we COULDN'T.
My husband was a powerful example for me, for our two daughters. "Happy, not crappy," became our family motto. It means the we CAN be happy in spite of our circumstances. Yes, I said HAPPY!
Last week, I was a health mess. My tooth abcessed and all of the demons of medical challenge that I juggle daily came spiraling down around my head. I was at stress level 100 of a scale of 1 to 10. For two days I was in the land of, "This hurts more than I can bear!" Gratefully antibiotics have groomed the pain back down to manageable.
Why do I share this? That time of misery was not wasted. There were periods of time when I thought of all my loved ones that have passed, and smiled with joyous memory. I prayed, I watched interesting things on TV while I embroidered on an antique family quilt top. Many of my family that have now passed on worked on this quilt from the 1930's forward. Somehow Mama just never was able to finish it. At 90 she considered throwing it away, and I had a figurative heart attack and snatched it back. This quilt top WILL be finished.
I was not able to do laundry, wash dishes, or perform other household tasks. This was a time for "other" kinds of duties. Watching the sun rise, and the moon rise behind our mountains became a daily point of joy. I was grateful for all my senses (Except for those days when pain was so severe. I am not a Saint)!
Time slowed to almost a stop. Instead of racing through my day with tasks, and schedules, and appointments, I was forced to s l o w w a y d o w n. Sometimes I felt like I could hear the tress greening, and the flowers poking their seemingly shy heads above the winter chilled earth.
I am not advocating that all of us quit living so that we can listen to the flowers grow. I'm discussing the hard times that come to almost every human being that lives. I'm not talking about, "Oh goodness, what shall I do, I can't choose which Prom dress to wear!" kinds of troubles. I'm referring to soul shaking, bouts of illness, financial stress, or especially financial ruin, divorce, death of a loved one, or disability. I would wish these troubles on nobody.
I watch, listen, and learn from others as I move along life's path. I learned from the woman confined to bed by Multiple Sclerosis. She could do nothing for herself. She had her Caregiver's get a white board and mount it next to her bed. Each morning she would have them list people who requested that she pray for the issues in their life. She labeled herself, "The Prayer Warrior," and spent her days praying for those who were struggling. Can you catch the irony? She...the woman bound fast in her bed, was praying for others, for their struggles, and juggles. It was a way to empower herself and connect with her God. She did not choose to be pitied, or to spend her day feeling sorry for herself. She found ways to serve.
I learn from reading, "The Hiding Place," by Corrie Ten Boom. Corrie, her sister Betsey, and their beloved Father hid Jews during World War II. They were devout Christians but saw all humanity as brothers and sisters. A neighbor turned them in for treason. Betsey and Corrie never saw their elderly Father again. Betsey did not survive the Concentration Camps. Corrie was released through a miracle. She found out later that it was a "Mistake." If she had not been released she would have been killed a month later.
An example very close to my heart is my beloved Mama. At the young age of twenty she was diagnosed with incurable kidney disease. This was 1939. She was given a long list of behaviors that she should follow. She should rest a great portion of everyday. She should NEVER marry. Having children could easily kill her and the baby. She would be an invalid. She probably not live to be very old.
She called a beloved friend for support. Mama was crying so hard that her friend had a hard time understanding what she was saying. Shocked to silence, Mama could not believe it when Emma started to laugh. What Emma said next changed Mama's life. "Oh Sarah, you're going to learn to take such good care of yourself that you'll outlive the rest of us." Mama said that she thought, "You can do that?"
Emma's statement proved to be prophetic. Mama read books, she did research on kidney disease. She learned ways and means of improving her health. She gave birth to three children, and lived to be ninety-five years old.
My Mama is my Shero. She taught me to trust in God with all your heart, and then do everything in your own power to make things happen. A partnership with my Creator came more from her actions than her words. She showed that partnership each and everyday by the choices that she made.
These examples of monumental courage in the face of great fear and challenge help me as I face my problems. I watch how these "ordinary people," faced their extraordinary challenges. It reminds me that courage does not mean doing things in the absence of fear. Courage means facing your worst fears.
When all else fails, remember, "Happy not Crappy!"
I have battled throughout my life with mind bending, soul gripping types of illness. If that hasn't been enough my husband was quite ill for the last thirty years of his life.
We both knew that we had a choice, a very, very difficult choice, but a choice nonetheless. We could choose to let our illness completely define us, (it IS a part of who I am, but not ALL of who I am) or we could focus on all the things we COULD do, not those we COULDN'T.
My husband was a powerful example for me, for our two daughters. "Happy, not crappy," became our family motto. It means the we CAN be happy in spite of our circumstances. Yes, I said HAPPY!
Last week, I was a health mess. My tooth abcessed and all of the demons of medical challenge that I juggle daily came spiraling down around my head. I was at stress level 100 of a scale of 1 to 10. For two days I was in the land of, "This hurts more than I can bear!" Gratefully antibiotics have groomed the pain back down to manageable.
Why do I share this? That time of misery was not wasted. There were periods of time when I thought of all my loved ones that have passed, and smiled with joyous memory. I prayed, I watched interesting things on TV while I embroidered on an antique family quilt top. Many of my family that have now passed on worked on this quilt from the 1930's forward. Somehow Mama just never was able to finish it. At 90 she considered throwing it away, and I had a figurative heart attack and snatched it back. This quilt top WILL be finished.
I was not able to do laundry, wash dishes, or perform other household tasks. This was a time for "other" kinds of duties. Watching the sun rise, and the moon rise behind our mountains became a daily point of joy. I was grateful for all my senses (Except for those days when pain was so severe. I am not a Saint)!
Time slowed to almost a stop. Instead of racing through my day with tasks, and schedules, and appointments, I was forced to s l o w w a y d o w n. Sometimes I felt like I could hear the tress greening, and the flowers poking their seemingly shy heads above the winter chilled earth.
I am not advocating that all of us quit living so that we can listen to the flowers grow. I'm discussing the hard times that come to almost every human being that lives. I'm not talking about, "Oh goodness, what shall I do, I can't choose which Prom dress to wear!" kinds of troubles. I'm referring to soul shaking, bouts of illness, financial stress, or especially financial ruin, divorce, death of a loved one, or disability. I would wish these troubles on nobody.
I watch, listen, and learn from others as I move along life's path. I learned from the woman confined to bed by Multiple Sclerosis. She could do nothing for herself. She had her Caregiver's get a white board and mount it next to her bed. Each morning she would have them list people who requested that she pray for the issues in their life. She labeled herself, "The Prayer Warrior," and spent her days praying for those who were struggling. Can you catch the irony? She...the woman bound fast in her bed, was praying for others, for their struggles, and juggles. It was a way to empower herself and connect with her God. She did not choose to be pitied, or to spend her day feeling sorry for herself. She found ways to serve.
I learn from reading, "The Hiding Place," by Corrie Ten Boom. Corrie, her sister Betsey, and their beloved Father hid Jews during World War II. They were devout Christians but saw all humanity as brothers and sisters. A neighbor turned them in for treason. Betsey and Corrie never saw their elderly Father again. Betsey did not survive the Concentration Camps. Corrie was released through a miracle. She found out later that it was a "Mistake." If she had not been released she would have been killed a month later.
An example very close to my heart is my beloved Mama. At the young age of twenty she was diagnosed with incurable kidney disease. This was 1939. She was given a long list of behaviors that she should follow. She should rest a great portion of everyday. She should NEVER marry. Having children could easily kill her and the baby. She would be an invalid. She probably not live to be very old.
She called a beloved friend for support. Mama was crying so hard that her friend had a hard time understanding what she was saying. Shocked to silence, Mama could not believe it when Emma started to laugh. What Emma said next changed Mama's life. "Oh Sarah, you're going to learn to take such good care of yourself that you'll outlive the rest of us." Mama said that she thought, "You can do that?"
Emma's statement proved to be prophetic. Mama read books, she did research on kidney disease. She learned ways and means of improving her health. She gave birth to three children, and lived to be ninety-five years old.
My Mama is my Shero. She taught me to trust in God with all your heart, and then do everything in your own power to make things happen. A partnership with my Creator came more from her actions than her words. She showed that partnership each and everyday by the choices that she made.
These examples of monumental courage in the face of great fear and challenge help me as I face my problems. I watch how these "ordinary people," faced their extraordinary challenges. It reminds me that courage does not mean doing things in the absence of fear. Courage means facing your worst fears.
When all else fails, remember, "Happy not Crappy!"
Wednesday, March 18, 2015
Live in the Present
In this moment, I am sitting at my favorite table surrounded by beautiful mountainscapes outside my window. There are blossoms everywhere, pink, white, lending new life to the view which is mostly still waiting for spring to arrive. I am finishing eating a delicious, healthy granola bar, and my critters (one cat, two dogs) are roaming about eating their breakfasts. In this moment I am safe. I am immovable from joy, I am grateful for life.
What happens when the moment you are in is NOT safe, or positive? That will happen, likely many times in your life. In all of the thousands of moments in your lifetime there will definitely be some that COULD pull you back, or down. This post is about learning to live in the present.
We all know that we can't go back to the past. That is a scientific fact. We are rooted here...right here...in the moment that we're living. What can we do to improve this moment? Here are some suggestions. (Note that there are many similarities to my last post of learning from the past.
1. Learn to quiet down any trauma or drama from the past. Let go of any worries about the future.
2. Visualization is a grand tool. Imagine yourself sitting in the most comfortable of places (or go sit in the most comfortable of places). Close your eyes and imagine how safe you feel right now, right here. Breathe deeply in, and then out. Count to ten as you breathe in, and ten as you breathe out. Do NOT hyperventilate, which would consist of taking breaths in and out that were too rapid.
3. Write in your journal. Focus on this moment. Use your senses as you write. What do you smell, see, hear, feel, taste? Do not allow yourself to wander, stay focused on this one tiny moment in time.
4. Play music, sing at the top of your lungs. (Please do not do this in a crowded place, or space).
5. Call a friend that is supportive and loves you unconditionally.
6. Create a safe space. Make a space in your home where you feel protected, safe.
Why is living in the moment so important? Life can be completely, absolutely overwhelming. If that is not true for you...CONGRATULATIONS! Most of the planet HAS experienced these overwhelming times. It is much easier to find control, and feel peace, if life is handled one moment at a time.
On the Net Flicks TV situation comedy, "Unbreakable Kimmy," she is kidnapped and kept in a bunker under the ground for fifteen years. She explains that she decided in that horrible place that she could do anything for 10 seconds. So she would slowly count to ten, and then start counting again when she finished the first sequence of counting. In this way she faced horrible things.
Most of us will never face being kidnapped, or kept in an underground bunker. THANK GOODNESS. At the same time this philosophy is very helpful.
My husband was in a horrendous car accident. About five levels of the middle of his back were just turned to powder. At one point on his back there was bone pressing on the spinal cord. The good docs were astonished that the sharp bone had not severed his spine.
Extensive back surgery was performed to put his back together again. The moment he began to become conscious from the surgery he was in agonizing pain. They gave him lots of pain medicine but none of it worked. For thirty-six hours he was in grinding, unrelenting agony.
Finally one of the pain management docs found another medication that worked. Then he slept for thirty-six hours. It wasn't that the medicine took away all the pain. It was that we all have certain limits of I can handle this, types of pain. The medicine simply made his pain bearable.
Of this extremely difficult time he said, "I looked at the clock and thought to myself, 'I can handle this pain for one more moment.' I got through that experience one moment at a time."
I just wrote about two extreme types of moments to live in and move beyond. Here's a gentler moment. It had been a frantic morning. I had two darling little girls to get ready for school. Their school was a half hours drive away. I also had work. So, in the process of feeding two cranky little girls, and helping them dress, and then getting myself ready we were all snappish, and genuinely grumpy. In that moment I wanted to go back home, and all of us just go back to bed.
Instead, we sang a song together, quoted a scripture, and said a prayer. (I did NOT close my eyes as I was driving to say a prayer.) I was amazed at how that simple little experience changed all of our attitudes and made our day much brighter.
If organized religion is not your choice, sing a children's song, recite a poem, say a prayer. Anyone can say a prayer, no matter what name they give to God. This works if you are carting your children hither and yon. It also works if you're alone, driving to work. Let's face it, it's very important to start the moments of your day in a positive place. When we start the day negatively, it rarely gets better from there. So find a way to start the moments of your day in a positive place.
Is your moment, right now, right here, filled with sorrow, crisis, and difficulties? Not every moment in our lives will be blissful. We will no doubt have many hard, soul wrenching moments. We can learn to thrive even in the hardest moments of our lives.
When my family was in a terrible accident, my niece and her husband picked me up and drove me to the hospital. As we drove past the accident (the car was metal spaghetti, torn to pieces), in my mind I heard, "If you will be strong, this is a Master Class for you to learn about life."
The accident was horrible. Our two daughters were left with permanent disability. My husband came very, very close to death. Yet within that terrible time there were bright moments of love. Our neighbors across the street loaned me their family van so that I could get back and forth to the hospital. Our car had been destroyed. One of our nieces had a van that they had been planning to sell to help pay for a new van. She felt impressed to hang on to that van. It wasn't very much later that she gave it to us. Men came and stayed with my hubby in the hospital so that I could go home and be with our girls sometimes. (They were both adults, but even adults want their Mommies when they are hurt).
I learned about the bright love of human kindness. Nyle and I were simple astounded at the outpouring of love from our families, and our church group. Our oldest daughter was very close friends with a young married couple. They came and lived with the girls for two weeks. The girls were too sick to care for themselves, but not sick enough to be in the hospital. I will be grateful always for those two dear young people. They literally pushed their own concerns to the side to care for our girls.
So moments of bright joy right next to moments of dark sorrow. The important thing to remember is that there is a choice. We may choose the easiest path which is crippling sorrow. Or we may stretch our souls as far as we can to find joy, even in the darkest of times.
My husband taught our daughters (and me as well) a phrase that he made up, "Happy Not Crappy." That's a very simple phrase but what it means is that we do not have to let circumstances determine for us if we'll be happy or miserable. We can make a conscious choice to find joy, or take the easy route and let the sorrow own us.
The next time you are faced with a "Master Class of Life," remember that you have a choice. You can let the obvious sorrows and struggles bury you, or you can dig deep, stretch high, and be happy not crappy.
In this moment I challenge you to write down what makes you happy in this moment. Even if it's something as simple as, "My breakfast was delicious." or, "The view out of my window is breathtaking." Find the things that bring you happiness, especially when it's not obvious, when it's really, really hard.
Remember, "Happy Not Crappy!"
What happens when the moment you are in is NOT safe, or positive? That will happen, likely many times in your life. In all of the thousands of moments in your lifetime there will definitely be some that COULD pull you back, or down. This post is about learning to live in the present.
We all know that we can't go back to the past. That is a scientific fact. We are rooted here...right here...in the moment that we're living. What can we do to improve this moment? Here are some suggestions. (Note that there are many similarities to my last post of learning from the past.
1. Learn to quiet down any trauma or drama from the past. Let go of any worries about the future.
2. Visualization is a grand tool. Imagine yourself sitting in the most comfortable of places (or go sit in the most comfortable of places). Close your eyes and imagine how safe you feel right now, right here. Breathe deeply in, and then out. Count to ten as you breathe in, and ten as you breathe out. Do NOT hyperventilate, which would consist of taking breaths in and out that were too rapid.
3. Write in your journal. Focus on this moment. Use your senses as you write. What do you smell, see, hear, feel, taste? Do not allow yourself to wander, stay focused on this one tiny moment in time.
4. Play music, sing at the top of your lungs. (Please do not do this in a crowded place, or space).
5. Call a friend that is supportive and loves you unconditionally.
6. Create a safe space. Make a space in your home where you feel protected, safe.
Why is living in the moment so important? Life can be completely, absolutely overwhelming. If that is not true for you...CONGRATULATIONS! Most of the planet HAS experienced these overwhelming times. It is much easier to find control, and feel peace, if life is handled one moment at a time.
On the Net Flicks TV situation comedy, "Unbreakable Kimmy," she is kidnapped and kept in a bunker under the ground for fifteen years. She explains that she decided in that horrible place that she could do anything for 10 seconds. So she would slowly count to ten, and then start counting again when she finished the first sequence of counting. In this way she faced horrible things.
Most of us will never face being kidnapped, or kept in an underground bunker. THANK GOODNESS. At the same time this philosophy is very helpful.
My husband was in a horrendous car accident. About five levels of the middle of his back were just turned to powder. At one point on his back there was bone pressing on the spinal cord. The good docs were astonished that the sharp bone had not severed his spine.
Extensive back surgery was performed to put his back together again. The moment he began to become conscious from the surgery he was in agonizing pain. They gave him lots of pain medicine but none of it worked. For thirty-six hours he was in grinding, unrelenting agony.
Finally one of the pain management docs found another medication that worked. Then he slept for thirty-six hours. It wasn't that the medicine took away all the pain. It was that we all have certain limits of I can handle this, types of pain. The medicine simply made his pain bearable.
Of this extremely difficult time he said, "I looked at the clock and thought to myself, 'I can handle this pain for one more moment.' I got through that experience one moment at a time."
I just wrote about two extreme types of moments to live in and move beyond. Here's a gentler moment. It had been a frantic morning. I had two darling little girls to get ready for school. Their school was a half hours drive away. I also had work. So, in the process of feeding two cranky little girls, and helping them dress, and then getting myself ready we were all snappish, and genuinely grumpy. In that moment I wanted to go back home, and all of us just go back to bed.
Instead, we sang a song together, quoted a scripture, and said a prayer. (I did NOT close my eyes as I was driving to say a prayer.) I was amazed at how that simple little experience changed all of our attitudes and made our day much brighter.
If organized religion is not your choice, sing a children's song, recite a poem, say a prayer. Anyone can say a prayer, no matter what name they give to God. This works if you are carting your children hither and yon. It also works if you're alone, driving to work. Let's face it, it's very important to start the moments of your day in a positive place. When we start the day negatively, it rarely gets better from there. So find a way to start the moments of your day in a positive place.
Is your moment, right now, right here, filled with sorrow, crisis, and difficulties? Not every moment in our lives will be blissful. We will no doubt have many hard, soul wrenching moments. We can learn to thrive even in the hardest moments of our lives.
When my family was in a terrible accident, my niece and her husband picked me up and drove me to the hospital. As we drove past the accident (the car was metal spaghetti, torn to pieces), in my mind I heard, "If you will be strong, this is a Master Class for you to learn about life."
The accident was horrible. Our two daughters were left with permanent disability. My husband came very, very close to death. Yet within that terrible time there were bright moments of love. Our neighbors across the street loaned me their family van so that I could get back and forth to the hospital. Our car had been destroyed. One of our nieces had a van that they had been planning to sell to help pay for a new van. She felt impressed to hang on to that van. It wasn't very much later that she gave it to us. Men came and stayed with my hubby in the hospital so that I could go home and be with our girls sometimes. (They were both adults, but even adults want their Mommies when they are hurt).
I learned about the bright love of human kindness. Nyle and I were simple astounded at the outpouring of love from our families, and our church group. Our oldest daughter was very close friends with a young married couple. They came and lived with the girls for two weeks. The girls were too sick to care for themselves, but not sick enough to be in the hospital. I will be grateful always for those two dear young people. They literally pushed their own concerns to the side to care for our girls.
So moments of bright joy right next to moments of dark sorrow. The important thing to remember is that there is a choice. We may choose the easiest path which is crippling sorrow. Or we may stretch our souls as far as we can to find joy, even in the darkest of times.
My husband taught our daughters (and me as well) a phrase that he made up, "Happy Not Crappy." That's a very simple phrase but what it means is that we do not have to let circumstances determine for us if we'll be happy or miserable. We can make a conscious choice to find joy, or take the easy route and let the sorrow own us.
The next time you are faced with a "Master Class of Life," remember that you have a choice. You can let the obvious sorrows and struggles bury you, or you can dig deep, stretch high, and be happy not crappy.
In this moment I challenge you to write down what makes you happy in this moment. Even if it's something as simple as, "My breakfast was delicious." or, "The view out of my window is breathtaking." Find the things that bring you happiness, especially when it's not obvious, when it's really, really hard.
Remember, "Happy Not Crappy!"
Friday, March 13, 2015
Learn from the Past, Live in the Present,PLAN FOR THE FUTURE! (I love to teach)
My post today is focused on "Learn From the Past." In future posts I will discuss the ideas of Living in the present, and planning for the future. All of mankind can benefit from these three concepts.
I LOVE TO TEACH! I LOVE TO TEACH ADULTS. In my blog I try to teach lessons that I have learned that have helped me. As I write I gain a great benefit by reminding myself of these ideas. Never at any time do I wish to promote the idea, "Look at me, I've conquered it all. I'm smooth, I'm clever, I'm always perfect." SHUDDER...unfortunately, there really are people like that. It seems that the majority of them either need professional counseling, or have been involved in professional counseling for a long, LONG time. (Not necessarily a bad thing, unless you are being counseled by someone who likes your money more than your mental health).
Somewhere along the 59 years of my life-path I discovered the philosophy I wrote on my subject line. I will repeat it, Learn from the past, live in the present, plan for the future. Each and every one of those timelines is important, but can you go back to the past and change things? I'm not discussing making recompense to those you have offended. I'm talking about waking up in the morning and then spending your entire day beating yourself up and feeling negative about yourself because of something that happened long, LONG ago.
The folks who struggle with this the most are reading this and thinking, "I do that." Then they add that particular idea of guilt and shame and are not uplifted by these ideas, but they actually use the positive ideas of growth and improvement as sticks to beat themselves with. Trust me, I know guilt and shame and the terrible things that they can do, close up, and personal. I have three words to give you about that idea. Are you listening? DON'T DO THAT! Repeat that out loud. (Unless you are in public transportation, a grocery store, or church. Speaking out loud in those places may add some other types of issues to your negatives from the past list).
Here's an analogy that helps me. At birth you are handed a symbolic bag. You are told that this bag has been given to you to contain any problems, traumas, and/or dramas You know, a great big bag like Santa has in his sleigh.
Usually the first years of life do not give you much to add to that bag. One of my friends was a children's crisis counselor. Those beautiful children she counseled had a lifetime of grief to put in that bag, and they hadn't reached the tender age of ten yet. I do know that there are precious, young souls who have a bag full and running over.
As we walk through life the bag gets heavier. You march along through life adding those struggles, challenges, and sorrows into that bag. I was bullied and tortured from grade one through twelve. Teachers bullied me, kids bullied me, and in one instance the administration bullied me. They actually said to my Mother when she reported an incident when one young man threw a pen that hit inches above my eye, and I had to literally pull the pen out of my flesh, "Mrs. Jones, boys will be boys. There is nothing I can do about it.
I had to go back to that classroom and sit with those boys around me. They did NOT quit the bullying or the torture. Tacks randomly were placed on my seat. They did it randomly so that I would forget to look first. That only happened twice...after that I did NOT forget to look at my chair each and every time before I sat down. Sexual innuendos and harassment were constant. I took a good book with me to that class. I read that good book almost all the class to block out the misery.
My Mother went to Parent Teacher Conference. When she asked that teacher why I received a NOT SATISFACTORY on my citizenship score he said, "She doesn't participate in class." (Remember that book I was hiding behind)? Mama said rather heatedly, "I'm certain that you remember you have her seated surrounded by boys who harangue her non-stop."
A long sigh from my teacher. "Mrs. Jones where can I sit those boys? They are a problem wherever I seat them." My suggestion today to that teacher would have been, "Sit them in the hall, send them to detention, get them transferred to a different class...GET THEM AWAY FROM ME!"
Today that scenario simply would not, could not happen, I HOPE!
So now you've witnessed my account of those events that weigh heavily in my bag. I just participated in a dangerous thing. I pulled out that misery from my bag and reviewed it, actually, kind of relived it to a degree. I discovered a year ago that the three main young men that tortured me, have passed away. I never wished them dead. I just wished them gone from my life, and now gone from my memory."
Each and every day we add other burdens to our bag. At the age of fifty I could no longer even drag that bag behind me. I came rather unglued. A friend challenged me to spend my 5th decade of life learning and improving myself. It's been a real journey of discovery. During this decade I learned the above lesson in the first paragraph.
When I awaken and feel as though I simply can't move I take a few minutes for visualization. In my mind I simply dump each and everything out of the bag into a huge, bottomless hole. A hole where all of the struggles, and juggles of my lifetime this far spill down, down and there is a trash compactor to chew them all up. (I wouldn't want them filling up a landfill, right)?
My beloved husband used a very dramatic visual to help me with this. For my 40th birthday he had a huge party. At one point he had each of our guests grab a helium balloon and head outside. What a sight to see FORTY helium balloons. My honey explained, "Each of these balloons represent trials, and problems that my wife has experienced in forty years of living. We are now going to let each and every problem float away. Watching those forty balloons float, up, up, UP, and away into the sky was magical. I literally felt lighter of soul.
Carrying the past around in that big bag stops you...it STOPS YOU! You may still be functioning, going to work, doing your job, being a wife, husband, or child. It stops your sense of hope for the future. It bogs you down so heavily that you couldn't feel joy if it slapped you. (Wait, if joy slapped you, would that be joyous? Hmmm...) Even on a sunny day your soul is filled with big, black, dark, dangerous clouds. (You may have noticed that I like analogies. I hope you do as well).
Let me share another hard lesson learned. Those burdens in the bag can actually change to a vaporous state and sneak into your sub-conscious. Some event in your present may trigger some of those vaporous burdens from the past. They will then sneak out and into your psyche. This will stop you. The burdens literally weigh more than any human could drag. Even if the human we're discussing has an Atlas' type of muscle power.
If you feel dark, heavy, worried, or any other negative emotion give yourself a ten or fifteen minute time out. Use those minutes to look inward. Ask yourself these questions: You could also write them in a journal to review later...an amazingly helpful tool of mental health, journaling.
1. Have I been sneak attacked by a burden from my bag?
2. Was there an event that triggered this sneak attack?
3. What can I do to restore myself to peace and contentment, better yet JOY?
There are no right or wrong answers to these questions. It's a process of healing. Remember when you were little and your Mama pulled a bandaid off you? Did she do it quickly so it only hurt for a few seconds, or did she take it off slowly, painfully? Only YOU can decide the method of healing that works best for you.
Please understand that there is HUGE world of difference between discouragement, self-defeating behavior, feelings of worthlessness, and clinical depression. Clinical depression is caused by a physical chemical imbalance in your body and brain. You can't just pull up your britches and move on when you are battling the demons of clinical depression, bi-polar disorder, schizophrenia, or any other serious type of chemical imbalance. For those you need medication and professional counseling.
Back to our bag. Did you write down the answers to those questions? If the answers will take longer than fifteen minutes you will have to go back to them later. To clear any negative energy from you do a quick visualization. Imagine all those balloons. You can imagine them black...
that may help you to remember that these are negative past experiences that you are removing from your world.
Write yourself a list of support. My Mama could always tell just by looking at us when were having a negative experience in our lives. She also could tell that we didn't wish to share. With me she would simply say, "Honey, go dance." Who knew in the 1960s and 1970s that exercise increased endorphins and serotonin? Who even knew that we had endorphins and serotonin? For my brother the encouragement was, "Go run. On the other hand, sometimes he danced. He also taught me how to sing and dance. My sister also taught me to sing and dance. They performed together in our church group, and other church groups. Sometimes I got to join them. So Mama cleverly helped us to learn self supporting skills. Below is a suggested list.
1. Call, text, email, Facebook, connect in person, somehow or someway connect with somebody that loves you. You might need professional counseling. They are neutral to your situation and can give you objective ideas to help you.
2. Dance - I don't care if you have THREE left feet...anyone can move to the rhythm. Even people who are deaf can feel the rhythm and move with it. I am NOT telling you that you can only dance if you are very, very good at it. I'm saying, let the music move your soul, and your feet.
3. Run - This is a marvelous way to improve your mood and give you perspective. Do NOT start running when you are in your fifties, have heart, back, or knee problems, and have never ever run in your life! Walk first and then run. If you can't run, jog, or walk. If you are in a wheelchair, get outside. Look at the sky, clouds, mountains, or mountains of skyscrapers."
4. Write in your journal - You may and probably will be surprised by the words that start tap tap tapping on your mind trying to be let out into your journal.
5. Meditate and visualize - Another visualization that I really enjoy is to imagine all of those issues and troubles as knots. Think of all the knots and tangles we have in our lifetime. Visualize a huge ball of twine filled with all sorts of gnarly knots. You are going to start and unknot one miserable knot at a time. Or you can envision that twine magically becoming smooth and unknotted. Just like your life.
6. Use your spirit. - I'm referring to our life force. It has many names. Consciousness, soul, spirit, energy, psyche, etc. etc. Read uplifting books. My favorite go to book is "The Power of Positive Thinking," by Norman Vincent Peale. It's a classic and always lifts my soul. The Bible, Torah, or Koran, are grand for those who are in more of a traditional religion.
7. Bask in beauty - As I write this I am surrounded by large windows. The view from our Hillside Home is magnificent. The home is in the foothills of a mountain range. Late winter has painted a rather brown landscape. Brown is NOT an ugly color. There are many hues and varieties of brown, from golden, to mahogany. The mountain range that I am looking at has been (depending on who you ask) around for thousands of years, at least. Use that image...those strong, long lasting mountains to remind you that YOU are strong. YOU may be immovable. Not as in close minded, or stuck in one place. No, you are immovable (meaning nothing can remove you) from joy, from gratitude, from the positive virtues that bring wonder to life.
8. Write down all of your favorite quotes or scriptures and create your own go to happy basket - I heard of one marvelous lady on Facebook that has a huge "Happy Jar." Everyday she writes down some wonderful moment. She NEVER empties the jar. Her kids also write happy moments and put them in the jar. Imagine the fun and joy of pulling out the happy memories and reviewing them.
I'm going to stop at eight ideas even though there are many, MANY more ways that you can support yourself, or have others help you support yourself. If I include them all here, I will be writing all day and into the night. I have many other things that I need to do today so those may pop up in another post.
Today's lesson is "Learn from the Past." The next lesson will be, "Live in the Present." You are all such wonderful students, class dismissed.
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