google-site-verification=ZTYg11mvIYHNbEU2g5SxL9_QHKENf5J6gzQJmMAjvss
When I was working in primary care, anxiety and depression were common diagnoses that patients were trying to manage, often by themselves. Patients didn't usually present with "depression" or "anxiety" but instead would come in complaining of fatigue, insomnia, lethargy, mood swings, weight changes, crying spells, palpitations, anger outbursts, or feelings of hopelessness or overwhelm. Knowing that anxiety and depression often present as behaviors, how can we support our loved ones who are facing mental health challenges?
How can we protect our own mental health while doing so? There are several steps we can take to support our loved ones while also protecting our own mental health. Using the mnemonic PARTICIPATE, let's learn more about what we can do.
I hope these concrete strategies allow you to feel more empowered when you engage with your friends and family members who are struggling with mental health issues. Perhaps you are the person who is struggling, and you can share this article with your loved ones. We simply do not know what we do not know. Effort and positive intentions are the beginning to valuable support. Godspeed.
0 Comments
You're on a roadtrip. You're headed to the beach. You have 10 hours start to finish and it seems like it is taking FOREVER. You stop a few times for bathroom breaks and lunch. The travelers are getting cranky. They JUST WANT TO GET THERE. When will we get there? How much longer? And then you realize. We are over halfway there. At 47 with 2 gnarly autoimmune diseases, I'm probably well over halfway there. I rushed the beginning. I looked so closely towards the end goal that I forgot to enjoy all the scenery I passed. Or did I? So I slow it way down.
As much as I can. I watch each inning of my youngest boy on the mound or at bat or hovering just off third like it's the bottom of the 9th in the World Series. I sit patiently before the curtain rises at every one of my middle boy's performances. I have no where else to be. I am his mom, and I am watching him shine. And I dance at my oldest son's wedding. I laugh. I smile. And I remember what it was like to be twenty years old and in love, the whole universe at my feet. I sip my coffee with my husband on the rare occasion we are enjoying breakfast together. I look out over my back deck at the spring leaves, the blooms of each flower, the squirrels scurrying, and the birds in flight. Slow down, Mr. Squirrel. Not so fast, Mrs. Bird. What's the hurry? You see I just left Mr. Jones or Mrs. Smith and they remind me each day that the end is not always easy. The end can be lonely, painful, or both. The end can be joyous and abundant, but we have no guarantees. So I slow it down. This line between my eyes on my forehead is from my Granddaddy Taylor. He earned his and so did I. I am reminded of him each time I look at it and I remember his favorite line: "aren't you glad you got to see me?" 🥰 If I cover it up, needle it away with miniscule doses of botulism, does that mean life never happened? The tears I cried and the belly laughs I bellowed - weren't those worth these lines on my face? And here we are, old friends. Me and my impatience. Me and my ambition. Me and my PLANS. What a farce. What irony. What next? The sun will rise and the sun will set. I choose to embrace these next decades with a little LESS energy and a little more PRESENCE. I'm showing up this time. I'm all in. I want to love hard and laugh often. Will you join me? Spring Break. Panama City Beach. 1995. 4 girls and without a care in the world. Bikinis. Coppertone. Alcohol we scrounged up from our older friends. Junk food and rap music mixed with Southern Rock on our 6-disc CD player in our car. No social media. No Life360. No palm-sized demons tracking us or telling us who to be. Sand. Sun. Free time and Free Bird. No likes. No followers. No shares. Real time. Analog. Conversations without abbreviations or acronyms. Spoken not typed. Love. Relationships. Heartbreak. Hormones. Naivety. Learning as we go without Siri, Alexa, or YouTube to help us. Is it better or is it worse? Public coming of age or private memories? These "stories" told in 2023... are they even the truth? I can't stop it. I can't change it. My boys are in it. Will they survive it like we did? Corona with a lime. 19, 20, 21 and a beach breeze. Music as the soundtrack to youth in the night. Some things remain true. Love and heartache. Friendship and comparison. The vigor and the pain of growing up. Goodnight sweet sunset. I see you in my rearview. Sweet Home on my Apple Car Play. Blue eyes smiling back at me. Bicycle lights, bicycle lights Riding with friends from the neighborhood after dark With the crisp spring air and the sounds of the night Getting that last lap in before bedtime My boys have those lights on their scooters and bikes And I wish they were around in my day But I recognize that feeling they give anyway It's a feeling we have all felt A Swagger; a JuJu A pep in our step and a smile from the rearview Remember being a kid? No worries, no stress No finances or relationships that need to be addressed I wish we, as adults, spent more time having fun and left more cleaning to wait more dishes undone If we all had bicycle lights and the feeling they give us We would dance more in the kitchen We would not be so serious We would tell those around us that we love them and that we need them We would sing and act silly Do you remember that freedom? Bicycle lights, bicycle lights Can I borrow you for a while? I need an hour of smiles and giggles I need the energy of a child I want the confidence of youth I ache for the ease of those years The innocence, the imagination Before all these doubts, hurts, and fears Let's go play in the neighborhood Until the street lights come on Let's soar on our bikes down a hill And remember where we came from On a recent poll with my readers, the results were not surprising:
The poll was not anonymous, and I know many of my readers. Several of the "way too much" respondents are married, have children, have jobs, are surrounded by people all the time, and YET... they feel alone. I can relate. Loneliness is harmful to your health. But how do we fix it? We've never been more "connected" in our lives? Or have we? I have found 10 ways to feel more connected in a digital world. These are not from some article or YouTube video. These are just what has worked for ME. I hope they work for you too:
I love interacting with my readers. For more of an inside look into my days, you can follow me on TikTok, Instagram, or Facebook. Please support my other hope*writers by reading their works based on the prompt word LONELY: Is God Lonely for You? By Sharla Hallett https://sharlahallett.com/is-god-lonely-for-you/ Loved vs. Lonely by Lisa Crowder https://lisacrowder.substack.com/p/5c456855-76dc-499f-90cd-6ffef071a3d3 Simple Is Better Lent - When Lonely is OK by Dianne Vielhuber https://simplewordsoffaith.com/2023/03/01/simple-is-better-lent-when-lonely-is-ok/ Open Letter to the Lonely Mom by Ashley Olivine https://www.ashleyolivine.com/lonely-mom/ Breaking the Stigma: Understanding and Talking About Loneliness by MelAnn https://lifesouvenirs.net/p/breaking-the-stigma Ya'll. I found BookTok at the end of 2022, and I have not looked back. I've been reading 20-30 books per year the past few years, but I didn't have a good way of connecting with other readers. BookTok has answered all my reading hopes and dreams. I have found my people! If you are new to BookTok and you need to learn the ropes, I hope this quick guide helps you navigate your new home! BookTok Glossary:
10 reasons I love BookTok:
We sold our van. A van I never wanted. A van I swore I would never drive (pre-kids that is). In preparation to complete the sale with its new owner, I searched every file, binder, drawer, and cabinet looking for the title. When did we buy this van? Oh yeah, 2012 when my middle son was 1 and his baby brother was 6 weeks from his debut. When did we pay it off? Oh yeah, late 2016 when I was diagnosed with an incurable autoimmune disease out of the blue. Where did I put this title??? I marched around the house the bulk of the day scouring every nook and cranny of file-space I have ever used. Since we once owned 3 houses, a fully operational lawn business, and we have 3 kids... there's a LOT of filing that goes on around here. Especially for 2 Gen-X parents who are a little more analog than digital. A few stressful hours later, the tag office informs us that Honda never even sent us the title. I'm not sure about all the details, but we should receive our updated title next week so that we can complete the sale. I'm sure we must have missed something on our end, but again: 3 kids, 3 houses, me being sick with a rare disease, and husband returning to the airline industry after selling his lawn business... we had a few things going on at that time in our lives. Back to the van, though. I noticed my body and my breathing as I was searching for that title. I was frustrated and self-loathing for a while figuring I must have misplaced this golden ticket we needed today (buyer was on his way to our house), but I was also something else. I was sad. A tiny little part of me didn't want to find the title. I was about to hand over the keys to a vehicle I never wanted that carried the life I always dreamed of... That van survived infant carriers and booster seats. My oldest son's middle school football era and me coaching my middle son in my beloved soccer. It got us home from the beach and the lake too many times to count. It started this crazy baseball journey that now rules our weekends. It took me to see loved ones that are no longer here. Today, in my search for that precious piece of paper, I found the boys' old school pictures, artwork, and growth charts. I found old debts we had long forgotten and remembered old arguments we have now outgrown. I thought of all the DVD's I rented from the Dollar General Redbox that literally saved my life (I owe a post to my "rides to the Redbox" for sure). I remembered each time one of the boys got carsick (sorry New Owners) and each time I filled that trunk with groceries. I remember being 30 and divorced and wanting to be a mother more than anything in this world. I remember spending holidays alone and thinking my ship had sailed. So I sit here typing these words to you, my friends. Let us not overlook what has brought us where we are today. The stops we have made. The wrong turns and the right ones. I am handing over the keys to an era of my life I could have never imagined. A life so full I could not hold it some days. Here's to velcro sneakers and sippy cups. Frozen on the DVD player and 3 boys in my backseat. Godspeed. Hijacked. Triggered. On Alert. On Edge. Uneasy. Icky. These are all words that describe how I feel when I am leaving my body as a result to some stimulus. And while I hate that my body has a physical response to certain triggers, my therapist has helped me realize that my body is doing its job. It is trying to keep me safe. It is sounding an alarm, and that is a good thing in the end. Whether you have been to therapy or not, you may recognize similar feelings and wonder how you can get back into your body and out of that fight, flight, or freeze response. Below I have listed some concrete ways to do so: 5 ways to get back into your body:
I hope these techniques have given you some concrete tools you can readily adapt the next time you are feeling a fight, flight, or freeze response. They have certainly helped me get back into my body. May you find more peace and belonging through my words. Please know that you are not alone. Godspeed.
Have you ever put yourself into timeout as an adult? Either your behavior was less than stellar or your attitude needed an adjustment? You were snapping at the kids for no reason, huffy with your spouse, or just spewing frustration with each breath? If you were your parent, you would have probably sent you to your room to cool off. I have learned to do that for myself. I even announce it. "Guys, mommy needs a time out. I will be back in 5 minutes. Please allow me those 5 minutes to myself." I hope this is modeling to my boys that even adults have meltdowns and need a moment. Let's talk about how to take an adult time-out and what to do during your adult time-out. How to take an adult time-out:
What an adult time-out may look like:
I was talking to a close friend the other day about the parenting we received as GenX kids. I was comparing it to the parenting I try to dole out and joked "man, I hope I'm not messing my kids up." We proceeded to have a lengthy conversation in which we semi-concluded that our generation is all in therapy because emotions were not allowed or acknowledged. We had to figure it out on our own while our kids' generation seems to start going to therapy in middle school. All or nothing? Where is the balance? This isn't funny and it isn't lost on me. At some point, I do just want my kids to be kids. On the other hand, I want them to learn how to process their emotions instead of shoving their feelings inside. If anyone knows the answer to this, let me know!!! 😜 In the end, I think we are all doing the best we can with the time, energy, and knowledge we have. Just remember... adults can take a time-out too. I highly encourage it. Godspeed. I love interacting with my readers. If you try taking a time-out, I would love to hear the results! For more of an inside look into my days, you can follow me on TikTok, Instagram, or Facebook. Please support my other hope*writers by reading their works using the prompt word PAUSE: Pause in His Presence by Sharla Hallett https://sharlahallett.com/pause-in-his-presence/ Power of the Pause by Ashley Olivine https://www.ashleyolivine.com/power-of-the-pause/ Don’t Stress, Pause and Refresh Regina Marcazzo-Skarka https://wordpress.com/post/reginamarcazzoskarka.com/147 When Hitting Pause is What We Need by Dianne Vielhuber https://simplewordsoffaith.com/2023/02/01/letting-your-doing-and-being-collide/ The Pause that Creates by MelAnn https://lifesouvenirs.net/p/the-pause-that-creates Ancestry.com has become very popular in the past 10-15 years. I decided to join Ancestry.com in 2019. My husband and I took our tests initially and then I bought my parents the tests a few months later. Ancestry can be as public or as private as you like. You also have the option to delete your DNA results at any time. If you have been thinking about joining Ancestry.com but are on the fence, check out a few of the features listed below. I pay a little extra to see the detailed documents because those interest me, but the basic plan also gives you tons of information into your family history. One of the new features of ancestry.com breaks down which parts of your ethnicity you obtained from which parent. The technology allows for this even without your parents' DNA - which as a scientist by trade - amazes me! I love that I have access to so many historical documents through Ancestry.com. I have seen marriage records, birth and death certificates, census records, military paperwork, and immigration records. I'm listening to Jodi Picoult and Jennifer Finney Boylan's "Mad Honey" and I have already had to pause the audio to record some quotes in the notes section of my phone. I do this with my favorite novels, and this one will stick with me for a while I am sure. Lily states, "It's inconceivable if you think about it. The complex ways people have come up with for being horrible to one another." And she is right. I'm reminded almost weekly as I parent tween children just how mean human beings can be and how easy it is for unkindness to spread. It can be quite contagious, and fighting it can be quite tricky. One of the famous quotes I try to implement into my daily life comes from United States radio host Bernard Meltzer. Bernard's words are: “Before you speak ask yourself if what you are going to say is true, is kind, is necessary, is helpful. If the answer is no, maybe what you are about to say should be left unsaid.”
I also remind myself that Hurt People Hurt People. Dear Therapist has helped me envision an angry or venomous adult's wounded inner child, but that still doesn't make their words or behavior any easier to swallow. So I go back to what I can control: my thoughts, my environment (somewhat), the people I choose to spend time with, how I treat others, my behavior, my attitude, my choices, and my boundaries. Today's post was just a quick reminder to Be Kind and that Kindness Matters. We never know the difference one smile can make in another person's life. Godspeed. I recently polled my readers and IG followers as to what they were planning to do the first weekend after New Year's. 90% responded with "declutter and organize." Research has shown that there are 3 times of year when we naturally hum with purging and sorting energy. Those times are at the beginning of a new calendar year, when spring arrives, and when school starts. Even if we are not students or teachers, we buzz off the energy of those who are and we naturally want to purge and sort in August or September. While I know most of us have the "want to" to declutter, the question then becomes "but how?" - how do we transfer that energy and desire into action?
I have a few other tips for harnessing your purging and sorting energy:
I hope this motivates you to start purging at least one corner of your home. One closet. One drawer. One pile. It feels SO GOOD to have less "stuff" to manage and maintain. The older I get, the less I want to corral! Be sure to follow me on TikTok, Instagram, or Facebook! I love interacting with my readers! I had no idea what body armoring was until I met my current therapist. I had been doing it FOR YEARS, but I would just call it "stress" or "tension." Once she named it for me, it made total sense. I was putting on a suit of armor to protect against emotional warfare. If you are reading this post, you have probably been doing this for years yourself. You are not alone, and you CAN get that armor off, my friend. It just takes TIME and WORK, and in my experience, some really good therapy. This post is an intentionally short post just to introduce you to the topic and allow you some time and space to research further. I am not a licensed therapist, so I tread lightly on giving mental health advice, BUT I do want to spread information that has helped me and may also help you. Godspeed. Legos and Laundry. These have been in my living room and dining room for over 10 years now. Should legos be in the rooms where we eat or relax? Should laundry? I say - YES. I have wanted to be a mother since I can remember. I babysat most of the kids in my neighborhood. Back when 12-year-olds could safely keep a few toddlers without any cell phones to reach any adults. Back when toddlers were thrilled to have said 12-year-old-neighbor-girl to make them pretend-school-worksheets and teach them how to hopscotch. Those were the days. Back to the legos and the laundry, there are many days where "I can't wait until this house is in order and everything is in its place and nobody's dirty socks or underwear will be on the floor!". But now that I've had one successfully leave the nest, I don't catch myself wincing over the legos or the laundry as much. See I know those cleats will be gone one day. I know that clarinet practice I hear from upstairs will be a distant memory. I know the messy rooms and the slammed doors and the "WHATTTTT?" of a teenager (with the required eye roll) will soon be in my rearview. And sometimes it catches my breath. Because I know. I know I will go from discussions around algebra to conversations about mortgages. From little league to stadiums. From junior Broadway productions to a college stage, perhaps. It's the perhaps that gets me too. See they were little, hard to believe but true. No bigger than my short arms could nuzzle. And I rocked them every night. And I picked out their nursery furniture and their first backpack and their first set of beliefs in many ways. But they're growing up. And they're SO smart. They can think for themselves and they challenge me, too. Make my brain stretch. Make my heart explode. I didn't know it could feel so good and so awful at the same time. Good that they're becoming themselves and that they're happy. Awful that I can't protect them and keep them from getting bumped and bruised like we all did. Now when I hang up that uniform or listen to the show soundtrack for the 100th time, I just smile. I let the legos pile up. I keep the clean clothes folded in the basket on the dining room table. And I hold my breath just a few more years and soak in every minute that I can get with them. How many more loads of laundry will I get? I think any mother would agree there is never enough. Written by one sappy mom to anyone else who feels this. Written when my boys are 10, 12, and 20. Written when I'm sandwiched between launching children and caring for aging parents. Written when the world seems automated and conversations seem rare. Written with my own youth creeping toward my rearview, with a coffee mug in my hand, and a knowing heart swollen in my chest. Godspeed. I love planning. Lots and lots of planning. I wish I could say I have time to do all the planning I want to do, but let's be honest, I waste time with Netflix and TikTok instead. That's okay, though. Sometimes that "wasting time" is our mind, body, and spirit recovering from all the daily input and stressors. But every year around this time, I go full-speed PLANNING MODE to prep for a new year. I have found it both helpful and invigorating to plan for a new year with new opportunities. Fresh starts are endless, necessary, and exciting. Please enjoy my top 10 planning hacks:
To further understand what each one of these hacks entails, let's dig a little deeper:
I hope this content gives you ideas and energy towards the art of planning as it affects your life. Some of my best days were planned. Some were not. And that's okay. Listen to your body and follow its lead. Your body knows what plans feel good for you. Godspeed. ☀️ Please support my fellow hope*writers by reading their work based on the prompt word PLAN: A New Plan, Again by Ashley Olivine https://www.ashleyolivine.com/a-new-plan-again/ A New Year Plan by Regina Marcazzo-Skarka https://reginamarcazzoskarka.com/2023/01/01/january-1-2023-a-new-year-plan/ Mom. Mama. Pinky. Jan. Janice. Dear. Sis. She will answer to any of these, but I believe "Pinky" is her favorite beckon. That's what her 3 grandsons call her. She didn't become a grandmother until she was 58 after believing it may not ever happen for her. Accounting. Bookkeeping. Payroll. Spreadsheets. Analysis. She has done that for work and now as a retired wife and home finance piddler, trying to spread retirement funds in all the right directions. She didn't finish her bachelor's degree until she was 48. That's perseverance and determination. And sacrifice. Don't think I didn't see you, Mom. Cook. Grocery shopper. Queen of the kitchen. Not only did she work, she cooked. She had homemade meals on the table for us every night (that we were home with all of our extracurriculars). And we ate together. At the table. With the TV off. You taught me to cook, Mom. No set lessons. Just daily presence. Daily consistency. I cook because of you, your mother, and your aunts. It dripped down into me, and I thank you. Culture. Music. Theatre. Movies. Travel. Books. I credit both Mom and Dad for this, but I think mom's love for the arts fueled my own. Mom wasn't a musician or an artist. She didn't write for fun like I do today. Children weren't always encouraged to pursue creativity in the 1950's and 1960's, so she made sure that we could do so. She is now sprinkling this love into my firstborn, and he knows it. They are magnets for one another, and I love to see their attraction. Thank you, Mom. Everybody deserves at least one magnet. Physical touch. Back scratches. Hands held. Hugs. Cuddles. Loving tenderness. I am a nurse because of you. I am realizing this more and more every day as I straddle launching children and aging parents. I learned to touch and care from you. One of my boys recently asked me "how did you know how to do that mom?" when he saw me soothing a baby and keeping her entertained. I learned it from you. I watched you and I received love from you. Thank you for giving me softness. I'm hard and sharp in so many ways. I need that cushion you have given me. Peace. Restraint. Calm. I've seen you mad, but only when necessary. Mostly I see restraint and thought. Intentional words and actions. Maturity. The tornado inside of me is calmed by your grounding, and for that I am forever grateful. I got my feistiness from your mother, and I see your sensibility in my youngest. Thank you for giving me a mirror of you in him. He will always remind me of you in his tenderness. Your childhood was very different from mine. But God knew I would need someone to talk to about families that may look different. My adulthood has been very different from yours. But God knew you might be able to heal some from witnessing adults making decisions that are really hard and living through plans that don't always work out. That's what I want to believe, Mom. That we have taught each other. Helped each other grow. You're my best friend, Mom. And I see you. I don't believe in perfect. I see YOU. And you see ME. All the cracks. And we still choose each other. Thank you for loving me through all of it. We are not done yet. And I can't wait for the rest. I don't know what your relationship is like with your mother. I don't know if your mom is alive or if she is already gone. I can't fix whatever may have happened with you and your mother. I can only share my truth and in this truth, I know that I am extremely lucky and blessed to have the mom I have and the relationship we have. Godspeed. I love Christmas. I know for some the holidays are hard. Very hard. And as I get older, they are harder for me too. But I still have that child-like wonder and love for the holiday season. And I hope by traveling this list with me, you'll find a little whimsy inside your soul too.
Laundry. Dishes. Kids' practices and rehearsals. Groceries. Oh, and don't forget the HOA. Where is the romance, right? Forget romance, where is the deeper connection? When is the last time he asked me about my dreams or my fears? Umm, when is the last time I asked him about anything other than a scheduling conflict or a honey-do checklist. When is the last time we touched each other out of sheer desire and not some scheduled meeting of 2 busy adults? When is the last time we laughed or cried together? Am I the only one who feels alone more than I ever thought I would as a married person? Truth is, NO. I am not alone in feeling alone! I know this based on the countless conversations I have had with my patients over the years. Marital disconnection literally sends people into their primary care provider's office with symptoms of depression, fatigue, anxiety, and sometimes even physical symptoms (nausea, rapid heart rate, the list goes on). You know how our kids nag us on weekends "mom, mom, mom- watch me do this. Look at this. I want to show you this." Well, the truth is that we want the same thing from our spouse and they want it from us. We just don't know how to express that need. So we pout. We give the silent treatment. We build an invisible wall to avoid rejection. And it is killing us. So How DO We Fix It? One exercise my husband and I use is the FANOS method for couples communication. It only takes a few minutes each day and it has been paramount in improving our daily conversations and overall understanding of each other. The way it works is that one partner goes through their FANOS while the other listens and does not comment. No fixing or feedback. Just active listening. Then it's the other partner's turn. There is a 24 hour rule on comments. Very important to honor the 24 hour rule. The acronym is as follows:
Feelings: use an emotion word and tell your partner how you are feeling. Give a brief synopsis as to why you are feeling that way. Acknowledgements: use this time to thank your partner for something he or she has done or is doing. This can be something you appreciate about them or an actual task. Needs: Let your partner know something you need from them. THIS ONE is the one the other partner often wants to give feedback on or fix, BUT no commentary for 24 hours. Ownership: Use this time to admit your screwups. Take ownership for that snarky comment or huffy attitude. This one has been so good for us! Struggles / sobriety: Let your partner know about something you are working on either for yourself or in the relationship. This is so good for accountability and vulnerability in the relationship. Quick caveat: the Needs section is the stickiest one for us. We have found that we don't want to list the same need over and over and make the other partner feel inadequate, so sometimes we list a need outside of the relationship. That may not be the proper way to FANOS, but it has worked for us and kept some pressure off. I hope this technique gives you a starting point for your relationship to head towards communication and understanding. Feeling seen and heard is imperative for a relationship's success. Not every day is going to be perfect. There WILL be bumps in the road. But having a partner that you trust to show up for you and at least TRY to hold space for you as you process difficult emotions is what matters most. Godspeed. Every year, we have a Cookie Decorating competition and an Ornament Decorating competition. The kids get super competitive and the husband and I simply enjoy all the time together as a family. We post pictures on Facebook and tally votes for the winners. In today's age of go-go-go and scroll-scroll-scroll, we cherish every minute of time together, unplugged, as a family. ❤️ Kids are out of school (or will be soon). "Mom, I'm bored." "Mom, I wanna do something fun." "Mom, let's do something for Christmas." If you've ever had a weekend or a school's-out-day full of hungry kids following you around the house telling you they're bored over and over again, I feel you!!! I have one out of the house and 2 still following me around on those days. This is a family tradition we created, in part, to fill some time and make some memories. Now it has become something we all love and look forward to every year. I keep acrylic paints on hand and I stock up on wooden ornaments at the after-Christmas sales for the next years' contest. Paint pens also come in handy and skinny Sharpies for those finer details. We usually post our ornaments on social media and allow friends and family to vote. I think we've had different prizes over the years, but mostly it's for bragging rights. Can you believe my then-9-year-old did the Frog all by himself? Rise and SHINE. Come rain or come SHINE. He took a SHINE to her. It's her GLOW UP. Bright, light, shimmery, polished. I don't know about you, but I am over all the SHINE. I want real. I want real conversations with real friends in real houses with real food. I want a real marriage with real connection and real love. I'm done with transactional. I want relational. I want physical touch and heart to heart dialogue. I don't want to talk about the weather or local gossip. I want to know what lights you up inside. What keeps you awake at night. I have been backwards and forwards, inside and outside the past few years. I think we all have with what the pandemic did to us. I don't want lip service. I want the truth. I will take that hard conversation over that placation any day. Is this shift in my mindset from midlife or from trauma or from growth? Am I bitter or intentional? Jaded or focused? I want to laugh too! I want to have fun! I want books and game nights and couch cuddles by the fire. I want to stay connected on social media and enrich my world with the vast resources available without feeling like dirt. Is it possible? Can I get on the Gram and laugh at the TikToks while still honoring my self-worth? I'm working on it. And what makes me so special to want all this? Or is this the way it was at one time before the SHINE? Does anyone even know? Even my elderly patients fall victim to hours on Facebook and subsequent feelings of loneliness and inadequacy. SHINE can be reserved for sports medals and awards shows, fancy nights out, and holiday decor. It has its place. It should be special and not everyday. Present over perfect. Real over fabulous. True over attractive. That's where you'll find me. Please support my fellow hope*writers by reading their work based on the prompt word SHINE.
It’s your time to shine! By Sharla Hallett www.sharlahallett.com/its-your-time-to-shine/ How To Overcome Adversity & Shine by Ashley Olivine https://ashleyolivine.com/overcome-adversity/ Shining Brightly in a Dark World by Dianne Vielhuber https://simplewordsoffaith.com/wp-admin/shining-brightly-in-a-dark-world/ Make this Advent Shine by Jessica Weaver http://rootedunrooted.com/blog/make-this-advent-shine Note the leaves clinging to the window. Thank God for slower days that allow me to notice and pay attention. Those leaves inspired this post. When I think about all the concepts and ideas I have clung to for my 46 years, I feel muddled inside. Everything happens for a reason. I don’t know about that. Some days I see God and the universe working and others I don’t. I’m just being honest here. Hurt people hurt people. I do believe this one. ☝️ But how do I maintain my self-worth and boundaries while being in the presence of those who don’t know how to get out of their own misery? This one is tough and affects most of us on a regular basis. True love. Soulmates. The jury is still out for me. People treat you how you teach them to treat you. I’m 50/50 on this one. I can hold my boundaries and even lower my expectations when needed and some folks will still be jerks. See #2 above. It will all work out. I’m 80/20 on this one. Yes the sun WILL rise tomorrow. Yes the world WILL keep spinning. I have (mostly) grown from all my life experiences, but I’m not sure if it always works out. I see injustice. I see inequality. I am not sure that always works out. Take the high road. I don’t know. Sometimes change needs a low road as a catalyst. Maybe relationships need real moments with raw conversations to truly grow. If we all took the high road at all times, would it even be a high road anymore? The truth will set you free. Usually. Almost always. But as a holder of many secrets (job hazard), I have seen situations where the truth might hold one hostage and cause immeasurable suffering for years to come. Say what you mean and mean what you say. I love this one. In theory. But with my silver tongue and deep emotions have come words I did not really mean in times of hurt or anger. I think this is a great ideal, a lofty goal. But when we mess up, apologize- and sooner rather than later. A quick imperfect apology generally means more than a well-stated overdue one. What about you? What have you clung to? What feels true and what feels forced when you consider the building blocks for your social or moral compass? Better yet, what feels fake? What makes you squirm when you say it out loud to another human? If you squirm, stop saying it. Stop believing it. Our truths can evolve. Our truths don’t have to match those of our parents or our spouse. Our truths are our own. Here’s to both of us building our own houses of morality and ideology. And leaving room for repairs. Godspeed. A nurse's heart is broken and whole at the same time She mends, she soothes, she uplifts, and she primes She is a buffer, a translator, a fetcher, and a bridge Has anyone ever asked about her deepest wish? A nurse's mind is sharp and fast She intakes and outputs while completing her tasks She stores all the info and processes all the scene Has anyone ever asked about her hopes or dreams? A nurse's shoulders are steadfast and strong She carries your weight, she hums to your song She catches the emotions of all in her path From the doctors, to the families, to the new undergrad A nurse's feet are swift and on demand She will get it, she will do it, she will continue to stand They may ache, they may swell, they may beg for relief But she knows how many benefit from the work of her feat A nurse's back is used all day long By the weak, by the broken, by the scared and alone She can do it, she will help you, she will lift all she can Have you ever thought to ask her if she needed a friend? A nurse's hands are skilled and attuned They can hold you and heal you and clean up your wounds They don't waiver, they don't hesitate, they are always there She swells when she realizes all who have gained from their care A nurse's heart is broken and whole at the same time If you love a nurse, or you are a nurse, know that we are our own kind. We take love and transport it from our insides to yours. We take healing. We take knowledge. And we deliver unforced. Please share this with the nurses in your life. I see her. I am her. Our work matters. Godspeed. follow my nursing content on TikTok
photo credit: Naassom Azevedo I remember being 20 years old. Planning a wedding. Looking at houses like a 16 year old looks at cars. Aren’t we always looking for, searching for, planning for that next thing? After the wedding and the house came the baby fever a few years later. All the nursery furniture and books of baby names. Once the kids are born we start planning for school. Backpacks and school supplies. We spend the next decade or so driving everyone to everything and wondering when it will be our turn again. Even though these are the very dreams we prayed for and clung to for so long. Next we plan their launch. College visits or military recruiters. Sheets for twin beds and $10 dorm skillets. The excitement builds and then evaporates with one set of taillights or one giant aircraft in the distance. We wait. We wonder. We hear from them now on their terms and we count the weeks between visits. And we realize one Wednesday morning while we sip our coffee and type in the glow of the Christmas tree that now they’re us. Now THEY are 20 years old. We are no longer even a daily thought to them because they are planning that wedding and looking at that house with the very same vigor we did so many years ago. And they know everything just like we did. To that we just smile and think “so that’s why my parents never really said much and just watched it all unfold.” So what do we do now? See we have been to therapy and had all these intense life lessons since we were 20. We know so much. Alas we really know so little. We control so very little (only our own thoughts and actions). We could say now we are planning for grandchildren but we have also stopped all the cookie cutter “this comes next” because we have been on the very train that derailed those best laid plans. So I just revel in the warmth of my coffee mug in my hands. Stare at the lights on my tree. Remember the excitement of buying my very first house. Give thanks for the bumps and bruises I have endured. And look forward to making my Mammaw’s dressing from scratch tonight like she and my mother have done since the 1940’s. Mammaw was 20 years old. Mama was 20 years old. I was 20 years old. Thank you Lord for all the 20-year-olds, the hopes and dreams, the excitement of building a life. May we never forget that feeling. Godspeed. If you know me at all, you know I love a planner. I love pens. I love paper. I love washi tape and stickers! I love making a list and crossing things off. I love mentally planning as well as physically planning. So of course- I have a Christmas Planner! Christmas is my FAVORITE time of year, with fall being a very close second. Holidays can be awesome, but they can also be overwhelming. They can drain the bank account and drain the energy bank as well.
|