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photo credit: www.gretchenrubin.com Gretchen Rubin is an author, podcaster, mom, wife, lifelong learner whom began her career as a lawyer. I have read 4 of her books and saw her at a live event in Atlanta in 2019. I listen to her podcast when I can, and I love her curiosity about life, community, relationships, and self. Gretchen developed a framework from which she thinks people are motivated and then named the 4 tendencies based upon said motivations. Gretchen's 4 Tendencies are:
More about each of the 4 Tendencies:
I asked my parents, spouse, and oldest child to take the quiz so that I can better understand what motivates them. Knowing the tendency of someone you love has made a difference in my life. If that person is not easily motivated by external forces, then I may realize that my actions may not affect their efforts whatsoever. If the ARE motivated by external sources, I take that into consideration before asking them to do something.
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Jan 30, 2021- Feb 3, 2021 Red, painful eyes start with painful vision and light sensitivity (UVEITIS). Feb 3, 2020-Feb 8, 2020 Tiny dots of a rash begin on my neck- they don't itch, burn, or hurt at this point. I call my dermatologist to schedule a biopsy, assuming this must be related to my sarcoidosis. Feb 3-March 8, 2021 Rash kept getting bigger and more painful. Not responding to topical Rx creams. Went for 2nd biopsy on March 8th, the day I started my 30-day medical leave. Focused on walking, sleeping, hydrating, and eating clean. Also journaling and resting. March 8-April 8, 2021 Off work. Tried the AIP Diet. No gluten, no dairy, no sugar. Derm and Rheum also put heads together to double my Methotrexate dose. The diet was difficult but my joints and skin "felt" better even though my skin still needed lots of help! April 8- August 8, 2021 Back at work. Still working covid. Boys off for the summer during some of that time. Started Humira in May 2021 and stopped Methotrexate. Skin would wax and wane, but I would say it eventually cleared by early to mid-August. Joints feel much better on Humira. Energy level too. September 2021 Had my 2nd episode of uveitis. That responded quickly to Prednisone eye drops. Skin pretty clear, but under more stress with some work and family stuff. Delta variant of covid is ravaging my patient population and friends. Evidence of proteinuria again so will follow-up with my nephrologist (that's more sarc-related, less psoriasis-related). Still on Humira. Echo and PFT's slightly worse than last year, but lung & spleen CT's show that the Humira is controlling my sarcoidosis. March 2022 I have had at least 2 more episodes of uveitis since the last update. Skin stays mostly clear with the occasional flare in the anterior portion (front) of my neck. I wrote this piece for all of my fellow Psoriasis Warriors who are walking this painful, lonely road. It is SO HARD. One can think they are not a vain person, but when your LARGEST ORGAN (your skin) is literally on fire with inflammation, it's hard to "hide" from vanity, comparison, self-loathing, and frustration. If you love someone with psoriasis, please share this with them and with others who love them. I hope it brings someone comfort to know they are not alone and that there are those people who will love us no matter what. 2 year anniversary of covid- what isn't in the news or really discussed publicly:
What is working?
What is not working?
What's next? What do I want more of?
Okay, so what does my list of "stuff" have to do with you? It's meant to be a guide or a tool for you to do your own quarterly review. What is working? What is not working? What do you want more of? Or less of? What have you learned in the last 3 months? I encourage you to take a few moments to yourself in one of those cracks of time we all barely get these days. Write it down. Type it in your phone notes. Say it out loud if you want to do that. But give it some THOUGHT. Consistent quarterly reviews or seasonal reflections can be life-giving and increase your productivity, contentment, and enthusiasm for what lies before you! Godspeed. ❤️ Dear God, show me the way I am on this road Lord Do I exit or do I stay? I was once a little girl Learning the Apostle's Creed and the Lord’s Prayer Now I am a grown woman And I have seen far too much despair I have healed some I have broken some Bodies and hearts and souls And as I travel down this road Lord I reach desperately for your hand to hold There are nights I feel so lonely I know you are there but I can’t find you There is an emptiness that can control me I try to fight it but it obscures you There is beauty in the absence Sometimes I see it and sometimes I feel it A tree that has shed its leaves A body beyond Earth's healing A notebook blank and waiting for a pen A shared glance between strangers where love will soon begin A happy baby waiting for his first tooth A hopeful high school senior full of ambition and youth My Mammaw’s vase waiting for its perfect bouquet My middle schooler’s energy as he starts every single day Do I notice the widow alone on the bench? Do I dwell on her grief - Do I absorb her heart-wrench? Or do I peek in the bird’s nest that comes every spring? And await its perfect eggs Soon baby birds with tiny wings There is beauty in the absence God For even sorrow and loss is proof of love I will travel the road you paved for me Gently nudge me in those quiet corners Lord Help me remember I am enough Amen. In my 24 years of nursing / NP work, I have seen countless cardiac events either in action or the ramifications of such events. On a personal note, three of my four grandparents had strokes. I lost my paternal grandfather when I was only 4 and he was 55 due to a massive stroke. My paternal grandmother had stents in cardiac and non-cardiac arteries as well as "open heart surgery" CABG (coronary artery bypass graft). I have been affected by heart disease on a personal and a professional level, and I want to help patients understand the true risk of death and debility associated with cardiac events. Here are the top 10 reasons I refer patients to the cardiologist:
Let's talk a little more about each of these 10 conditions and how a patient may actually present to my office with these symptoms.
I have had patients in their thirties suffer from strokes and heart attacks. I have seen heart failure, cardiac arrhythmias, and high blood pressure in patients from childhood, young adulthood, and beyond. I doubt there is anyone in America who does not personally know someone who has been affected by heart disease. In honor of America's Go Red for Women Month (every February), I encourage you to schedule your wellness exam with your primary care provider and to start paying more attention to your heart rate, blood pressure, water intake, weight changes, and dietary choices. Your heart matters to me! Godspeed. I have a beefy cardiology post that was supposed to drop today, but I don't wanna. I've started it, and it's important, but it's way too serious after coming off a glorious restful vacation. Instead, I thought I would share all the random thoughts that have been filling up and overflowing from my overworked brain. Maybe you can relate. Maybe not. Either way, you might find these entertaining.
Anywho, it's Saturday- the sun in shining - and if you're exhausted parenting toddlers right now, just enjoy the Duplos and Play-Doh. Starbucks and Xbox await! Entitlement and minimal communication are just chillin' - they'll come soon enough! Godspeed moms and dads. How did our parents survive us? 🥰 When was the last time I felt challenged? I wake up, sip my coffee, trudge through my morning routine. Mouthful of medicine for my chronic illness. I write, I pray, I listen (to a book, podcast, or music). I chew my breakfast while I drive to my same place of employment for 14 years. I continue to listen (to the book, podcast, or music) OR I stare off into space while I drive. I get out of my car, unlock my office door, log into my work computers, and it begins. I get back in my car, return a million missed texts, phone calls, and emails as safely as I can using Apple Car Play / Siri Safe Drive. I pull into the garage and count down the hours until bedtime. I chew my supper while I try to remember my name. I chat with my family and aging parents about mostly-trivial but sometimes-important details. Another mouthful of medicine for my chronic illness. I look at my beautiful children in awe, and I wonder what kind of men they will be. I sit with my husband for an hour (if we are lucky) before he leaves for his night shift job. Bedtime routine for kiddos, occasionally a TV show that makes me think, and then I'm staring at my palm-sized demon looking for answers it does not contain. Is this it? Is this the peak or the valley? The joy or the pain? The calm or the storm? I don't know anymore. It all feels the same. Yes, yes a global pandemic has stripped me of some of my best days. It has calcified my heart and further thickened my skin. My eyes grow both weak and clouded. My soul is but an echo of its youthful GLOW. My mind, once invigorated and eager... my mind sits solemnly in the corner silently daring someone or something to call upon it. Goodnight, my once-lively darling. I have tucked you in every night for almost 2 years now. Your light is weak now, sweet darling. I see a glimmer. A flicker of promise. Can life wake you and shake you before your final flame burns? That is the challenge. No one else will save us or light our fire. We must find the spark, the ignition, the catalyst. Find a mirror, sweet darling - and DIG. DIG DEEP my darling. She is in there. Let us LIGHT HER ON FIRE again. That is the challenge. I wrote this for any person anywhere who feels like they are sleep-walking through life. You are not alone. We are all struggling. I stand with you. Let us find our fire again. Please help support my fellow hope*writers by visiting their work: Writing Consistently is a Challenge by Regina Marcazzo-Skarka https://reginamarcazzoskarka.wordpress.com/2022/02/15/writing-consistently-is-a-challenge/ The Motherhood Penalty Challenge by Ashley Olivine https://www.ashleyolivine.com/the-motherhood-penalty-challenge/ Insomnia With Anxiety and How to Overcome the Challenge by Epigen Wellness Group https://www.epigenwellness.com/insomnia-with-anxiety-how-to-overcome-challenge/ Challenging Times and 3 Ways to Endure the Struggle by Lindsey Gibson https://lindseygibson.com/2021/02/21/challenging-times-3-ways-to-endure-the-struggle/ Jar Full of Manna 31 Day Discipleship Challenge by Kelly Heath https://jarfullofmanna.blog/2021/03/01/31-day-discipleship-challenge-how-to-follow-jesus/ photo credit: Josh Hild Have you ever been in a crowded room Conversations buzzing Bass guitar, drums kaboom Fun is in the air Laughter all around Does anyone notice I haven't been found? Sure, I am talking pushing out a nod yes Does anyone notice my brand new dress? I have so many ideas, fresh perspectives, big dreams Does anyone notice my ship is moving downstream? Hey, Listen! Watch this! Help me decide what to do! Does anyone notice I have dilemmas and crises too? Take, take, take Always dolling out the goods But I want to receive Dear Therapist told me I could! How do I ask for it? I thought I told them what I need. They can't handle me needing them. For I am the Savior indeed. Not the Savior like Jesus but the Solver, the Lover The Healer, The Lifter The Fixer, The Mother I want to be picked up. I want to be tucked in. I want to be protected. I want to be the less friend. Did I say less? Oh wow. I did. I'm too tired to be the best. I'm too broken to always mend. And pick up and clean up and listen and console. I want to be picked up. I'm no longer willing to be told that something else is more important and you can't handle anymore. I need a net, a pillow, a soft spot. I need a knock on my door. So if you're sitting at that table feeling overlooked and used. I see you, my fellow Fixer, Let's blow up this one-sided ruse. To all the Takers in this world. From all the tired, used Givers.
2 steps forward 1 step back Don't look up dear Stay on track The path gets clear Then takes a turn The heat turns up I'm tired of the burn I want easy I want laze You choose chaos You like that maze My body is tired dear My mind is worn down But you love that adrenaline Too high to see my frown And all are watching All ears tuned in And you love that trophy Isn't the goal to win? My goal is tranquility My goal is to meld I want to feel seen babe I want to feel held Do you love me? Do you see me? Do you want me? Do you need me? Why am I asking when I should know? 2 steps forward 1 step back I can't look up dear I've lost the track For all the lovers of chaos from all the lovers of ease. He sat down, head in hands, downward glance She looked up, tears in eyes, uneven stance I walked in, low on sleep, high on caffeine They walked by, on the street, young love, just teens He stood up, paper in hand, PowerPoint prepared She fell down, learning to walk, not nervous, not scared I walked in again, ready to listen, ready to care Do I absorb it, do I deflect it... do I share? The first one has a heavy load, family stuff, he's overwhelmed The second one feels trapped, but she's 83, where would she go? The third one is me, with my own load and I'm trying to figure it out Do I carry their burdens or give them back? I was never told... The fourth one is the big boss and the fifth one was once us While the overwhelmed man and the trapped senior unfurl It's good to remember that someone somewhere is in charge and someone somewhere is just a happy little girl The teens are just teens and I remember how that used to feel The butterflies, the headrush, the lovesongs, the thrill While I dance between empathy and boundary and pharmacy Someone somewhere is getting married or at a funeral or in the hospital nursery And so I sit here replaying today's events and my children's faces and my own dreams Do I let the man's troubles and the woman's sorrow fall off of me? Am I a sponge? A shield? Sand through a sieve? Where do I put it? How do I move it? What do I need? Dear Therapist once asked me "how do you feel? what are you feeling?" and I just stared. I ask that question, Madame. How do you dare! She brought out the preschool book and reminded me the names: anger, sadness, anxious, scared, and my favorite- SHAME! So I ask you, my brothers, my sisters, my friends Where do we put it? How do we move it? Where does it end? We are connected. Are we a puzzle? Passing ships on the same sea? I am you and you are me and we are thee. What is the answer? I need the code. I need the key. I will take today. You take tomorrow. Let's give her next week. He can do the dark nights. They can do the long fights. Let's share the joy and spread out the misery. Next time you see him. Next time you see her. Next time you see me. Remember the pleasantries are just a mask atop the real things. The real beauty of the patient-provider relationship is the back and forth. Never stop sharing with us. It's why we got into medicine. But if you love us or if you live with us and we are quiet or distant... We are simply trying to figure out where to put it. Godspeed. It can start any day, any time, anywhere. It can begin without warning. The overwhelm. It's like a net that covers me and I struggle to break free. Whenever I feel my heart start to race and my mind going in a million different directions, I know it’s time to do a brain dump. This often happens when I’m driving or in the shower or - even less convenient- when I put my head on the pillow at night. It is very tempting to let those thoughts go, but I have learned to capture them when I can. If I am in bed and the lights are off, I will grab my phone and voice text whatever is in my mind into the notes section of my phone. If there is a reminder I need to set, then I do that in the reminder app that comes standard on an iPhone. For those of you who are not tech savvy but you have an iPhone, you can use Siri to set a reminder or to create an event in your calendar. If lights are still on, I often jot it down on the notepad I keep next to my bed. I have the kind of brain that remembers better if my hand physically writes it down. This is why I still use a paper planner in 2022. If I am driving, I use Apple CarPlay and Siri to do what I mentioned above. I talk into the notes section of my phone or set reminders or create events... all hands-free with my steering wheel and my iPhone. I do not hate technology at all in this capacity. If I am in the shower, I could still use Siri, but she usually doesn’t understand me over the shower. In that situation, I just write down as much as I can remember as soon as I step out of the shower. Yes, I keep a notepad and pens in my top bathroom drawer. I am THAT person. Speaking of the shower, I try not to think of things. I try to use the shower for mindfulness. Mindfulness sounds fancy and woo-woo, but it’s really just being aware of your body in the moment. One example is thinking “I feel the hot water touch the back of my head. It is running down my back and onto the shower floor. I see the water pooling at my feet. I hear the water as it hits the tile. I taste the toothpaste minty and clean in my mouth. I smell the shampoo I am rubbing into my hair. I am thankful to be alive. Today is a blessing.” If I am practicing mindfulness, it is hard for my thoughts to race elsewhere. photo credit: www.atrapamente.com Another way I center myself is the butterfly tapping technique (linked below), deep breathing exercises (inhale through nose 4 seconds, hold 4 seconds, exhale through mouth 5 seconds). I have used both of these with my entire family when my kids have been off the rails and I needed to get us back on track mentally and emotionally. It takes practice, but it works! Once the kids realized they HAD to do it, they actually got into it. Now, let’s talk about how to actually do a brain dump effectively. I just did one since I was feeling overwhelmed with a busy week ahead, so feel free to reference the picture below. The most effective way I have brain dumped over the years is to separate my random thoughts into categories. I base the categories on grouping similar tasks:
The below picture is just a quick 2-3 minute brain dump. When I use the aforementioned categories, that type of brain dump is a 20-30 minute all-inclusive, major brain dump. Those are the BEST ways to brain dump and my body leans toward doing them on Sundays as I am planning for the week ahead. If I miss a Sunday, my brain and body know it. David Allen is famous for his Getting Things Done book and method. He touts that our brains are not meant to carry information and task lists, they are meant to THINK. That feels very true for me. If my brain is full of a to-do list, I am usually unable to write or create. Once I unload all those tasks I've been juggling on trays in my brain like an overworked restaurant server, I can actually let my brain "breathe" and creativity ensues. I also included a recent monthly meal plan for December 2021. Planning meals one month at a time has GREATLY reduced my overwhelm. I linked the way I actually meal plan down below. Once we have emptied our minds via the brain dump, now we can face the actual overwhelm. Sometimes the overwhelm was just that, carrying too many tasks and to-dos around in our minds. The mental overload of life in 2022. Sometimes it's emotional overwhelm. Grief. Sadness. Loneliness. Disappointment. Regret. Shame. Longing. Anger (which someone somewhere said that Anger is Fear Dressed Up and that resonates with me). Envy. Comparison. Greed. Sometimes it's physical overwhelm. Exhaustion. Physical pain. Illness. Injury. Anxiety or depression manifesting as physical symptoms (headaches, abdominal pain, joint or muscle aches). No matter what TYPE of overwhelm we are feeling, the spiral is the same. Sometimes sleep or a healthy meal can provide relief. Often silence and solitude are the answer for me. Just know that YOU ARE NOT ALONE. I am fighting the fight with you. Godspeed. So here I am. 11:32 PM on a Friday night. Laundry is caught up. Dishes are done. I've been off work for 5 days for a knee surgery, and I'm wide awake. The house is fast asleep, but here I sit. Why is rest so difficult for me? I can't blame the pandemic, because this has been an issue for decades. I don't sit well. I don't laze well. I don't relax easily. I feel guilt when I am unproductive, and I'm not sure why that is. Oddly, I can usually relax on vacation. Sure, I bring a puzzle, books, journals, and planners to work on, but I can sprawl on a stranger's couch without hesitation. I can sleep late in a stranger's bed, and I can (sometimes) leave dishes in a stranger's sink. I love vacations where outings are limited and "doing nothing" and "not having a schedule" are the highlights. BUT I CANNOT SEEM TO DO THAT IN MY REAL LIFE AT HOME. Not a single person on planet Earth outside of my household would know if I had been a complete lump the past 5 days, but I would know. Am I judging myself? What is this all about? Busy-ness is a disease for sure. I am the first one to ask my patients if they are practicing any self-care or getting enough sleep. And I do practice some self-care and I really do want to be asleep right now. But my breathing is shallow. My pulse is approaching 90 and I'm seated. My mind feels scattered and my heart feels heavy. Yes, there are several things (and people) on my mind. There are unfinished projects floating around in my brain, and there are conversations I need to have. Writing is usually the best way to get all the "yuk" and "to-do's" off my mind, so I'm hovered over this laptop waiting for peace. Now I sit here, with this truth I long for the exhaustion that comes with youth For with each decade comes more woes My jaw won't relax My eyes won't close Perhaps I will run and jump and ride And dance in the kitchen and sit outside Can wind and sun and trees and breeze Steal my worries, my need to please? I see my children doze off with smiles Such hope and joy imaginations wild Come on, sweet girl it's still in you The hunt for knowledge, the quest for new Lay that body down dear girl, don't fight it anymore Put those thoughts to rest dear girl, stop that mental tug of war You are enough You've done enough My love is enough Today was enough This goes out to anyone anywhere who has watched the clock, felt the shallow breathing, or had feelings of guilt associated with REST. You are not alone.
Godspeed. Something has happened. You are hurting or your loved one is hurting and the ickiness or awkwardness or forced normalcy is not going to go anywhere anytime soon. Feelings are hurt. Perhaps a misunderstanding or perhaps a true "injury" to the relationship has occurred. Words or actions that cannot be unsaid or undone. And a difficult conversation needs to be had. You dread it. You hate confrontation. But you can't sleep either. And you can't make polite small talk anymore. There's an elephant in the room and she's on fire. (I love elephants so forgive that visual- just trying to portray a feeling). So what next? The truth is that I don't have the answer here. I recently had two difficult conversations and neither one was fun. The advice I will give is from my therapist (I really should buy her a nice dinner for all the content I glean from her- thank you Unnamed Therapist 🥰):
Keep all of these tips in mind while you have the difficult conversation. My prayer for you is that your difficult conversations are productive, meaningful, and end in resolution. Life is hard enough on its own. Let us choose our words wisely and remember that those who love us are rarely trying to hurt us. Godspeed. My son had a rough baseball practice. His pitching was off. He missed some routine grounders, and a few of his throws to first were off target. He struck out once and that hardly ever happens. On the drive home he was giving me all the reasons he had an off day on the field, and I listened quietly until he finished. Once we pulled into the driveway and exited the car, I sat him down on the golf cart. I said Son, if I hurt a patient because of an error I made, do you think the judge or the patient’s family is going to want to hear that?
He glared back at me. Or will the judge and patient’s family ask me about how I prepared for my work as a nurse practitioner?
Was I involved in practices that put my patients in danger?
I explained to my young pitcher that baseball (and life) is like my job in many ways. If he makes an error during practice or a game, his coach does not want to hear any “excuses.” Instead, the coach will hold him accountable. The coach may ask what he has done to prepare for his game or practice.
He seemed to understand the concepts after that explanation, but I wanted to take the conversation one step further. I wanted him to have a concrete example of how HARD WORK can truly PAY OFF. Son, do you know how mommy has her blog? Yeah, and you have a lot of people who read it. That’s right. But do you think I would have as many readers if I never wrote and put new posts up? Did you know Mommy has written over 80 posts in 7 months? Mommy “sits her rear in the chair” and writes even when she is tired or has other things to do, because SHE LOVES IT, and she is passionate about it. She even works her full-time job and still gets in that chair to write FOR FREE! That’s how much she both loves it AND wants it to succeed. Is anybody making mommy “practice” or “put the reps in” for her blog? No. Mommy is disciplined. She knows that her hard work will lead to good things. She believes in herself, and she knows that her work ethic and preparedness shall not be questioned. Instead of using some star athlete or famous musician, I used MYSELF. The same person that cooks his meals and folds his clothes. The person he cuddles on the couch with and tells all his secrets. He SEES me chasing my dreams. That really got him pumped up and ready to face the challenge of this upcoming baseball season. Now what does any of this have to do with you? It might be early in the morning when you are reading this. You may be getting ready for a regular workday, or you may be on your lunch break. You may be near pass-out status on the couch, or you may be killing time in a lobby somewhere.
I want to ask you 2 questions:
No judgment. I was 45 before I even started chasing my ACTUAL dreams. And excuses? I’m full of them! I beg you to pause after reading this. Take some deep breaths in, and exhale slowly. Close your eyes and imagine yourself doing what you have always DREAMED you could do. Instead of listing all the reasons why you can’t do it (reasons, excuses, you decide) … think of ONE STEP you could take towards your dream. For me it was pushing “publish” for the first time in July 2021. And then pushing it again and again and again and again, even if my work wasn’t perfect. Even when I wasn’t feeling inspired. I sat down, I started typing, and I made it work. Picture yourself taking that risk. Godspeed. PS I would love to hear from you! What are your dreams? I recently finished The Four Winds by Kristin Hannah. As I listen to books on my commute, I often pause the recording when I hear a lovely or heart-wrenching quote and voice text it into my iPhone notes. With The Four Winds, I captured 11 quotes. One that has settled into me is this:
"You're wearing your worried face"
said the daughter to her mother. "It's my love face" said the mother to her daughter.
*** I chose mother and daughter instead of character names for context
As I reflect upon ALL THE THINGS (#overanalyzersunite), I cannot get those words out of my head. I am embarrassed (or not?) to tell you the number of times one of my 3 boys has asked "are you okay mom? Your face looks funny like you're mad at me or worried." All the while, I'm thinking "I am cooking supper, I have just folded a million tiny boxer briefs, I signed your agenda, AND I am making a conscious effort to smile ever so slightly." I realize as I pass the hall mirror that my forced smile is only on the bottom half of my face and that the top half is riddled with the heavy and the unknown that I am carrying that day. In my previous post on motherhood, I mention that I sing my children awake. It is quirky and I don't know how it started, but it is ritual in this house. If ever a morning passes without music in the house, the boys know "mommy ain't right." (sidebar: the writer in me abhors "ain't" while the Kentucky in me knows it infers just another level of wrong that the word "not" misses). Laugh if you agree. As my boys get older, and as my therapy bill reaches the thousands of dollars, I am learning that pretending everything is okay:
With boys ages 19, 11, and 9, my Worried / Love Face has rested above my shoulders on so many different days and in so many different ways.
So what next? Is there a moral to this story? I think of my own Mama and both my grandmothers. I remember seeing their Worried / Love faces too and not knowing what they meant. I remember telling both grandmothers goodbye when they BOTH knew they were dying from lung cancer, one as a spitfire 60 year old and the other as a content great-grandmother in her 80s. Even if you are not a mother as you read these words, you have or had a mother. She may be a great mother, or she may be one of the worst. She may not be here to show you her Worried / Love face anymore, and for that my heart aches for you.
I will leave you with this. Another The Four Winds quote.
"Believe me Elsa, this little girl (or boy) will love you as no one ever has and make you crazy and try your soul. Often. And all at the same time." You either have a little girl or boy or you were a little girl or boy. If you have seen any parent figure's Worried Face, then just KNOW that you are or were or will always be LOVED beyond measure and without end. My pledge going forward is to tell my boys as much truth as they can handle at that moment about my Worried Face so that they will KNOW that it really just means that I love them. Forever and Always. Godspeed. Shame. Such an icky topic and feeling. I am not a licensed therapist. I am still trying to figure all of this out myself, but I am learning and I am working to diligently avoid shaming words being said by any member of my household (including myself). THIS IS HARD WORK. 😩 When I see myself, my spouse, or my children slipping into a shame spiral, I try to acknowledge it and stop it if possible. This is treacherous, however. The danger in stopping a shame spiral is the risk of entering into toxic positivity. Toxic positivity can equally invalidate and minimize a person's feelings. One can go from "I am not good enough" to "I am not good enough to have this emotion right now." One can go from being told "you worry too much, you are such a worry wart" to "don't worry, everything is always going to work out." Neither instance feels good. Has a friend or loved one ever told you what you should have done and how you should have responded? How did that feel? Even better, have YOU ever told a friend or loved one what they should have done or how they should have responded? That mirror comes up quickly. The Shame Spiral can start immediately or hours, days, weeks after the "injury." It can last a lifetime. My therapist just asked me if I had ever heard the story about the father and son and the nails on the fence post. I had not. I tried to find the original author and the original full story, but I could not find it. Please let me know if you do. The quick version is that the father gave the son some nails to nail into the fence post. The boy did and came back to his dad. The dad said "good job son, now go take them all out." The boy wondered what in the world his father was thinking but he did as he was told. Upon his return, the boy asked "okay, I took them all out, but why did you have me do that Dad?". The father replied "Son, those nails are like words. You can say them and you can try to take them back, but the holes will always remain." Credit to MaryAnn Denwood @ The People's Therapist and Richard Bamford Therapy for the above images. Credit to Michigan Health Blog and ThePsychologyGroup.com for the above images. I could not locate the exact source from these SlideShare images, but I found them to be extremely valuable. When I began my own work with my own shame, it felt bad of course. I wondered why I "felt so bad" when "I don't think I really did anything wrong." And I don't mean I've never lied or disappointed someone or made a poor choice. OF COURSE I have done all of those things. I meant that sometimes I feel like I'm doing good things, kind things, making smart choices, and I still feel SHAME. Why in the world am I feeling shame when I "act right" and make kind, intentional choices? I quickly learned that we can be just as shamed for doing GOOD as we can for doing BAD. (Excuse all grammar rules here - just go with me). I can be a good girl and be shamed for it. I can be the best in the room (at a sport, in a class, on a project, or at work) and be shamed for it. Am I crazy and causing myself all this shame or do other children and adults actually shame us when we excel? The truth is BOTH. We receive messaging from infancy to the grave that shape our responses. These messages come from our loved ones and from strangers. Today, they often come from avatars on a screen in the devilish device in our hands. The messages come from television and advertisements. They even come from our beloved children. Are other people TRYING to shame us? Probably not. But they may be full of shame themselves, so it's a language in which they are fluent. OR, they don't know how to handle their own emotions and we are the nearest punching bag. It's all complicated. It is layered. It is old and it is new. None of it feels good. As part of my own shame work, I was asked to draw my own shame creature. I think this is an excellent exercise for anyone. I included the most shaming statements I have received from strangers and well-meaning loved ones. So here I am, undressing on the internet and showing you my boo-boos. It is scary to be this vulnerable, but I want to do and feel better. I don't want to push the shame button of anyone I love, especially the sweet souls fast asleep under my own roof right now as I type this. So here goes.
I have been trying to name what Christmas does to me. What is it that I am feeling? Is it joy? Sadness? Grief? Regret? Yearning? Excitement? Happiness? Disappointment? Fear? Melancholy? I thought you might be feeling this way too. Are you? Aren't we all? So I decided to write all of us a letter. To the little boy who wanted the new bike but didn't get it, it is okay to cry. To the elderly grandmother who fears losing her mental faculties, it is okay to be scared. To anyone anywhere with that empty seat at the table, I see you. Whether it is Year One or Year Twenty without him, without her, without them, it still hurts. Don't swallow it, my friend. Don't shove it down. Allow its entrance and its exit. To the wife who notices her husband doesn't look at her as much as he once did, it is okay to feel unnoticed. I wonder if he feels noticed by you? To the dad who just wants everyone to get along (and they don't), go ahead and feel your frustration. You can't fix it (as badly as you want it fixed), so just sit in it. It will pass. To the one that got away, I think you got away for a reason. I don't know what it is, but I think I believe that? I'm allowed to think about it though. I'm tired of being told what I should or shouldn't think about, aren't you? To the sister who sees brother steal every show it seems, take that jealousy wave and ride it. Get it as big as you can until it slowly softens and washes away. To the husband who wishes his wife would touch him more, feel that hurt. Allow yourself to feel it and then ask yourself what she may be feeling right now. To the single mom drowning in debt, it is okay to feel anxious, scared, angry, sad. This isn't what you dreamed of - and it is OKAY to have feelings about that. To anyone spending this day alone (or feeling as if they are alone), it is awful. I have been single without kids, and I did not enjoy it. Be sad if you need to be sad. Feel the yearning for a family or relationship if you have it. When we deny ourselves and our feelings, we will never walk in our truth or our light. To the sweet little girl who loves all things Christmas and Santa and baby Jesus and twinkling lights and hot cocoa, please don't disappear. I still need you. We still need you. Your children need you. Your aging mom and dad still need you. YOU still need yourself. Please don't let go of that wonder. Please try to remember the warmth under the heaviness of reality, sweet girl. Please find that sparkle in your tired eyes and FEEL the delight of this day and the upcoming days. You know so much now, dear girl. You've seen too much now, my old friend. But you are still here. The you that is typing this or reading this - that has had lots of Christmas Eves by now... and the you that is only on her fourth Christmas Eve, staring at the tree, dreaming of Santa and his reindeer, warm in footed pajamas, holding her blankie, surrounded by her family, not a worry in the world. Hold on baby girl. We all need you right now. Remind us of that Peace. Joy. Contentment. Excitement. HOPE. I may not know what or who to believe anymore, but I do believe in YOU. Merry Christmas friends.
From me to you. Godspeed. How on earth is it already time for 2022? Where did 2021 go? I'm not sure, BUT, I am ready for 2022. 2021 was messy and ugly in many ways. On a personal level, it was unkind to my health. I received a new diagnosis of psoriasis in March and had to miss an entire month of work while my body was adjusting to new medications and my skin was trying to heal. October revealed an unexpected opportunistic infection (since I'm immunocompromised) that required strong antibiotics and made me feel pretty lousy. Since November 1, I have been hobbling around on painful swollen knees and am facing unexpected knee surgery. Pity party? Nah, not my style. Swallowing it all? That's my go-to. When I think about my health and how unfair it is that I've tried to take care of my body my whole life and I'm still getting the short end of the health stick, I can get pretty low. Then I think of all my patients who have it "worse." And I swallow it. I shove it down. I brush it off. But is that healthy? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. So I'm learning to acknowledge my own feelings. I'm sad that my body is not behaving. I'm angry in some ways. I'm frustrated for sure. I'm still thankful that I can work for right now. I am beyond grateful for my parents who live 2 doors down and help me daily. I'm tired. I'm realizing I have X amount of energy each day and my family needs the bulk of it. If my job takes most of it then I'm robbing my family of my best self. Filing for disability has been on my mind more in the past 9 months than it ever has during this 5 year sarcoidosis journey. So what next? New year, new adventures, new planner, new goals, new.... what else is new now that I'm 45? I have a lot of old. Old hurts. Old unmet needs. Old furniture. Old clothes. Old shame. Old junk in my kitchen drawers. Old relationship issues that deserve a conversation. An old van that has chipping paint but it's paid for and gets us to ball tournaments. I think the reflex for all of us is to replace the old with the new and that will make it all better. New clothes. The newest kitchen gadget. New furniture or decor, ON TREND, my dear! A shiny new SUV that costs more than most people's annual salary and gets 12 mpg. But boy does it look good and that's what counts, right? I'm no longer trying to replace the old just by reflex. It's harder to keep it and try to keep it running. Purging the clothes and kids' toys is definitely good, but when we throw out things that still work but aren't "good enough" for whatever standards, what does that say about us? Who and what have you thrown away and replaced with newer and easier? (ouch)... I'm falling apart health-wise in a lot of ways, but I "still work." Will my family or employer throw me out? Will my friends forget about me if I'm not as active and fun as I used to be? Where does that leave me? As an Enneagram 3 (Performer, Success Driven), I've been gut-punched this year by my body's betrayal. But God must be telling me something. I know He has a plan. I have to trust and slow down and just be. NOT. MY. STRONG. SUIT. Perhaps 2021 leaves you feeling like I do. Maybe you lost someone you loved. Maybe you were also betrayed by either your body or someone you trusted. Maybe you felt out of control all year like I did? Maybe you spent too many hours googling vaccines and viruses and death tolls like most of the world. Maybe you feel all the "junk" you've shoved down and swallowed for however long starting to surface and want to be named and noticed. I feel that with you. 2022 can be a renewal for us, my friends. I'm going to intentionally name what's working, what's not working, what is worth repair, and what really needs to be purged from my life. This goes for relationships, time spent, health choices, what I consume digitally and physically, items in my home and closet, and my thought life. I'm going to check myself when I just want to replace the old for that quick dopamine hit. I'm going to try to sit in the uncomfortable and define what's causing it. I can't keep running 90 mph. 2022 is for slowing down. It is for evaluation. It is for growing up, finally. Godspeed. Motherhood. It sounds official, important, and majestic. And IT IS. BUT - motherhood - being a MOTHER - is a constant, daily, exhausting, never-ending, rollercoaster of a job that has zero degrees or certifications as preparation and the measuring stick seems to move daily. Who is measuring? My boys? The world? My husband? Social media? The boys' future therapists? ME? Let all that soak in for a few moments and then we will dig into this crazy ride called motherhood. Being a mother is definitely my greatest JOY in life. I have wanted to be a mom since I was a very young girl setting up mock classrooms in my garage for neighborhood children (#truestory) and naming my children in big bubble letters in my third-grade spiral notebook. I babysat my entire neighborhood it seemed, and I was going to be a mom as soon as I got married and worked 2 years as a nurse. I would be 24 and my life would be perfect. Then life happened. For lots of reasons, and over many years, I thought motherhood was not in the cards for me. I was devastated. I wasn't sure what life would be without ME being a mom. I was destined to be a mother, right? That was the PLAN. I live by and stick to the PLAN. Fast-forward to age 34 and my first baby boy was born screaming, dreaming, and wild, and he hasn't stopped any of those yet! His 8 year old brother was waiting on him in the waiting room bursting with excitement. 2 years later, God gave me the sweetest, big-hearted, most mellow fellow in the universe and God's plans for me and my motherhood journey were complete. All those nights I looked to the starlit heavens with tears in my eyes wondering when it would be my turn ended. All those Happy Mother's Day cards and texts I sent out with awkward responses like "um, thank you- hope you have a good day too" were over. Some women may say motherhood doesn't define them or isn't their purpose. I do love other things. I enjoy hobbies and my career and a good live band or a breeze on a boat. I will sit on any cabin deck in the mountains and drink any cup of coffee if it's made right. But being a mother is and will always be my MOST IMPORTANT JOB. And every time I look at my green-eyed boy with the world's longest eyelashes acting on stage, or admire the kind, responsible young man my step-son has become, or listen to my big-blue-eyed baby boy tell me how he wants to help someone in need, the world drifts away. Nothing else matters. If I had never made a proper diagnosis, helped someone who was in pain, or received any trophy, plaque, or ribbon for my efforts, I would be just fine. My real work is being done every single day and will continue until I leave this Earth. Those 3 boys are my purpose in life. Thank you, Jesus, for answering my prayers in Your way on Your time. HERE ARE 14 LESSONS I LEARNED IN MY FIRST DECADE OF MOTHERHOOD. I'M NOW IN MY SECOND DECADE, BUT I'VE HAD MOST OF THESE DOWN FOR A LITTLE WHILE NOW.
I think each of these lessons deserves a little more detail. I really had no trouble thinking of these, since they have honestly been LESSONS LEARNED. These are all things I literally did not know until I knew. And what you don't know, well... it's just better that you know these. 🤷♀️
My own mother told me many years ago that motherhood would be both the hardest and the MOST IMPORTANT job I would ever have. She has never been a step-mother. She has never been through a divorce and tried to navigate a second marriage with a man who was also navigating a second marriage. She has what some might call a wonderful, life-long, high-school-sweetheart partnership that is still going strong over 50 years later. She had 2 smart kids who were active in sports and music and for the most part well-behaved. She wasn't working as a nurse practitioner bringing work home every night, and she wasn't commuting over 8 hours every week. And she still said it was the hardest. And the most important. Odds are that I don't know you. I don't know how many people live in your house or what kind of childhood you had. I don't know how many times you've been hurt or who exactly caused your pain. I don't know how demanding your job is or if you even work outside the home. I don't know if you struggled to get pregnant or if you have more children than you ever intended. Your family may be blended or straight out of Southern Living. It doesn't matter. If you're reading this, you are most likely a parent, probably a female, and if I were a betting woman, I would bet you are exhausted. You are overwhelmed. You are lonely. You are bored if we are being 100% honest. You are under-appreciated and overworked. And you wanted to know you're not alone. I declare from my Georgia basement with my ice-pack on my already-arthritic knee, you are NOT alone. I am with you. My own mama with her cookie cutter textbook family was with you and is still with you. This is hard work. And it's WORTH IT. I hope this article brought you some comfort, whimsy, new ideas, or peace. Just remember wherever you are, I am with you. I'm only halfway to 18 on my youngest, so we can hang out for quite a while yet. 🤪 Godspeed. Please help support my fellow hope*writers' work by reading their posts using the prompt word "fourteen"... :
The Most Wonderful Time of the Year: 14 Things I Love About the Holidays by Jessica Weaver www.rootedunrooted.com/blog/the-most-wonderful-time-of-the-year 14 Truths about Love by Sharla Hallett www.sharlahallett.com/14-truths-about-love/ Fourteen Adjectives to Cultivate in Kids by Jessica Haberman https://storytellerfarm.com/fourteen-adjectives-to-cultivate-in-kids/ 14 Parenting Tips to Raise Strong, Independent Kids by Ashley Olivine https://louvaria.com/14-parenting-tips/ I see it every year. It starts around the first week of November and it lasts through the middle of January. The holiday blues. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve actually slowed down enough to think about trends in my practice. Sure there is an actual diagnosis of seasonal affective disorder, but this is different. This is deeper. This is hard. And here’s how I see it every day for two months straight in my exam rooms: Me: Hey Mrs. Jones - it is so good to see you. I know we had to zoom for our last visit. What’s new in your life? Are you ready for Christmas? Do you have to cook for Thanksgiving? Are y’all going anywhere? Mrs Jones: oh you know, I will be cooking for the family for Thanksgiving. And the children and the grandchildren may stop by for Christmas. No... I don’t go anywhere. I’m ready as I’ll ever be. Blank stare. Obvious reflection. Anyway how are your boys? Are they ready for Christmas? Do you have to cook for Thanksgiving? Me: oh yes I will be making my Mammaw’s dressing, sweet potato casserole from an old Birmingham recipe from one of my mother’s friend’s mothers, my layered salad that a nurse I used to work with taught me how to make. Gosh that was over 25 years ago now. Blank stare. Obvious reflection. Daddy will fry the turkey and my husband will fix the ham and a peanut butter pie. Mama will make the deviled eggs and the Waldorf salad. I will make my mother-in-law‘s corn bean casserole and some homemade mashed potatoes. Of course we will have rolls and cranberry sauce. Another blank stare. I haven’t seen my mother-in-law in over five years. The boys? Oh yes, they are more than ready for Christmas. We got them a matchbox Advent calendar they can’t wait to get started on. They’re growing up so fast. Blank stare. Obvious reflection. The oldest will be home from the Air Force. He and his girlfriend will be together the whole time I’m sure. I smile. But I’m nearly in tears. What is going on? And we sit for a moment. Two women born of different decades and sometimes different skin colors who have lived two very different lives at the outsider’s glance, but are so alike on the inside that it’s haunting. Her daughter is sitting beside her. They look and act so much alike it makes me smile from the inside out. I’m sure that’s what people say when they see me with my mother. I don’t have a daughter. Will my boys take care of me? Alright, get it together Amy. We finish out our actual medical visit and say our go-to goodbyes: Happy Holidays. Y’all be safe. Call me if you need me. And now, after ALL these years, I often hear “you know I love you.” And I believe it’s true. It’s not forced. It’s been earned. Is it against the rules? No, not my rules it’s not. Truth be told, I love her too. Maybe because I see myself in her and I’m cheering for myself in my old age. I’m giving myself a head start and saving myself a seat. I’ve practiced in Kentucky and in Georgia. I worked in a nursing home for six years and then made rounds as a nurse practitioner in that very same nursing home. I’m an old soul myself so I think I draw my elderly patients in and they stick. I stick to them too, and I think they know it. I’ve had so many Mrs. Jones over my 17 years. I’ve had Mr. Jones and Little Johnny Jones or Little Sally Jones as well, but I am so connected to Mrs. Jones that I can almost finish her sentence. Now I’m driving home and this 2 Lane Highway surrounded by trees and cows and horses makes me feel like I could be in any of the four states I’ve lived. It’s familiar and so are these thoughts. I’m a little girl in my childhood home with my brother and my parents and we just came home from candlelight Christmas Eve service and mama made lasagna. I haven’t really been hurt yet. I don’t know what it feels like to love somebody besides my family. I feel safe and secure and like I can do anything in this world. How did Mrs. Jones feel at this age? How did you feel at 10 years old? Now I’m driving home from Tuscaloosa with Delta Zeta on my back windshield. My finals are over. I get to see my boyfriend. I’m taking pre-med classes as well as a full nursing load, but I’ve been hurt by now. I’ve been disappointed and lied to by some people I trusted. But it’s the holidays you see, and I still feel like I’ve got a handle on things. I wonder what Mrs. Jones was doing at 20 years old? Had you been hurt by then? Oh wow. I didn’t really see this coming. Or did I? I’m sitting alone in my first marital home. Half my furniture is gone. Someone I love deeply told me I don't really need a Christmas tree this year because "it's just you." Am I not enough for a tree? Who am I by myself anyway? I’m driving to Georgia for Christmas. I don’t think I’ve ever been this sad in my life. I wonder what Mrs. Jones was doing when she was 30 years old? Was her heart broken like mine? Was yours? Gather around now. It’s time to eat. My baby boy is four years old and can’t seem to stop smiling. God gave him to me for sure. The first one I carried is six and almost as smart as I am. The one I didn’t carry but I’ve fed and loved now for seven years is sitting right next to me. Is he thinking about his mama? Will he ever see her again? Tiny pieces of my heart crumble for him. I just started taking prednisone for an incurable autoimmune disease I had to look up on the Internet. Lord have mercy and I really do mean "please Lord have some mercy." I’m only about 3 1/2 weeks into a lifelong diagnosis and I don’t know what the future holds. I’m scared. I’m sad. Merry Christmas y’all. It’s the holidays, right? I wonder how old Mrs. Jones was when she first questioned her mortality? How old were you? Were you 40 years old like me with a child in pre-K, one in first grade, and one silently falling apart right in front of you? You see that’s what the holiday blues are. They are every heartbreak and broken promise. They are all the fears and all the lost relationships. They are that empty seat at the table. The phone that barely rings. They are the one that got away and the one that stayed too long. They are your mother, your father, and your children. They are every husband you’ve ever had. How can they not be? We can’t erase our memories. I don’t have a cure for the holiday blues. I think they’re part of life. Mrs. Jones might tell me they get better with each decade or she might tell me they grow and take up more space than we should allow. I’m scared to ask her. None of us even talk about it really. We just say Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, y’all be safe. So this is my letter to you at age 45. Some heartaches of mine have healed and some are still there. I don’t think we should only remember the good times because that’s not what made us. It’s certainly not what made me today sitting right here baring my soul and giving you the permission to bare yours. Acknowledge the things that built you. Godspeed. This goes out to every Mrs. Jones that has ever allowed me to know her. She is me and I am her. And I thank God for that. We all have basic human needs as individuals. Most of us would agree that we need food, sleep, and water and some agree we need love and friendship. I would venture to guess that beyond those basic needs, many people are sleep-walking through life without ever giving pause to what THEY or WE actually need from each other. Lots of therapy has helped me realize that other people in my life don't automatically KNOW what I need or expect from them. I must let them know what I need. I have also come to realize that no ONE person in my life could possibly fill or meet all of my needs. It is humanly impossible to meet all the needs of another human by oneself. It truly does take a village. Once we have identified our needs, we can start to look at the players on our team and realize who is filling which need in our life. Some fill multiple needs. Others fill one need or don't fill a need at all, but instead may be causing stress or toxicity. Perhaps "trimming the fat" is in order when it comes to our circle of loved ones. I have also learned that not all of us are CAPABLE or WILLING to meet certain needs of others, and that too can be a painful process of acceptance and growth. So, let's roll up our sleeves and look closely at the basic human needs of each person roaming around this earth. Let us make a list of the members of our circle and try to identify who fills which need(s). There are several reasons this is important:
This is real adulting. Grown up stuff. Hard stuff. Deep stuff. So get ready. photo credit: childhoodtraumarecovery.com Let us look at Maslow's hierarchy of needs from a current-day real-life perspective and add the context of relationships and connection to those needs:
I don't have many patients that walk into my office and tell me they have needs. Instead, they tell me they are sad. They are withdrawing from friends or family. They can't sleep. They don't feel good. The have mood swings or anger outbursts. They are no longer excited about life. Medication cannot "fix" some of these painful circumstances we are all facing in our lives. An SSRI (most commonly used class of anti-depressants) cannot make your spouse SEE you or try to meet your needs. It cannot heal decade-old wounds from your narcissistic mother. It cannot jump into your best friend's mind and tell her that she is hurting you with her words or actions. Nor can it walk into your adult child's house and announce that YOU are a person, too, and that you need love and respect. So many of these issues have been around so long in your life that you don't know where to begin to address them. I encourage you to seek counseling if and when you can. A good therapist really can change your life. In the meantime, write down YOUR needs. List what needs are being met and which are not being met. Jot down WHO is helping to meet those needs and make a mental note of who you really can count on in which needs department. Use your resources - your people - when you are in crisis. Learn to NOT go to the ones who have not or cannot meet certain needs so that you avoid further hurt and disappointment. And consider having a conversation with your loved one if the opportunity ever arises and the setting and timing are conducive to growth. We cannot read minds, and we are all flawed. This relationship and self-evaluation work isn't easy, but it is worth it. Godspeed. A popular book in the field of marriage and relationships is Gary Chapman's The Five Love Languages. In his book, Dr. Chapman discusses the five core languages used to give and receive love. Knowing your love language and that of your partner is quite beneficial as you navigate various scenarios and frustrations throughout your relationship. I will link the quiz below. The 5 Love Languages according to Dr. Chapman are:
Originally written in 2004, the book has now sold over 6 million copies. I read it when it was originally released, and I read it again when I remarried. I knew the importance of speaking the same love language (or at least being aware of my partner's love language) . I think it is helpful to know your close friends' love language and the language of your children or other close family members. If you are not familiar with the concept, I will use this brief example: Amy (acts of service, physical touch): " I am so tired. Ugghh I have so much to do. I don't know how I'm going to get it all done." Husband thinking to himself (words of affirmation, quality time): Amy is so tired. She should go to bed. Maybe if I keep encouraging her to go to bed, she will. Amy thinking to herself: If he would fold this laundry, then maybe I could go to bed. But instead he's just telling me I should go to bed. Husband thinking to himself: Why is she folding that laundry when she is so tired? If I offer to fold the laundry, she may lash out at me since she's so tired, and (needing words of affirmation) that would ruin the night, so I will just stay with her (quality time) and gently encourage her to go to bed. Amy fuming at this point (acts of service, physical touch): If he's not going to fold the laundry, he could at least rub my back. Then maybe I could relax enough to go to bed. But husband doesn't rub my back because he wants the words of affirmation and reassurance to do so and the spiral continues. Neither spouse did anything WRONG, but remembering each other's love language might have made for a much more pleasant evening. Pleasant evenings bleed into smooth mornings and so forth. This example is just one of many. It can apply to family, friends, coworkers. You may be trying to show appreciation with a gift or money but they WANT / NEED to hear you say why you appreciate them. They may be doing all the little chores and acts of service to get your attention, but you WANT / NEED them to stop running around and spend the afternoon with you without any distractions. It really is fascinating once you know the love language of your partner or best friends. You can spend an entire afternoon dissecting why one situation went south based on love language miscommunication alone. But back to PHYSICAL TOUCH, I think this love language is often overlooked and misunderstood. For obvious reasons, it's viewed with caution, and while that is good... it is also robbing us of a basic human need. With the surge of technology and virtual everything, many of us go days or weeks without touching another human, particularly these last 2 years. Throughout my career, I have used touch as a means to reassure and connect with my patients. Since I received touch as a child and infant in a safe, healthy environment, I have been able to give touch easily. I know that is not true for everyone I encounter, and I acknowledge that. Here are some ways I have used touch in my practice:
Here are some ways I have used touch in my home with my children:
My challenge to you, wherever you are, however old you are, whatever childhood you had, whatever love language you prefer, however many times you've been hurt, is to THINK about physical touch in the setting of a newborn baby. I have linked an article below touting the science behind touch and neurological growth and development. If you're old enough to find this article, then you have been a child yourself. You may have children or be involved in a child's life. We all know that a crying baby or toddler is often soothed by the touch of a loved one or caregiver. Animals are the same way. I dare say, adults are ALSO the same way. If you love someone (your child, your partner, your mother, your close friend), touch them. HUG them. Incorporate safe and healthy touch into your daily routine. We have grown generations of adults now who are not used to being touched. Those untouched adults are now having more untouched children. Those untouched children are looking for affection in ways that a simple "cuddle session" (what we call it at our house) may have averted. It saddens me when I shake a teenager's limp and nervous hand or attempt an appropriate side-hug with someone and am greeted with surfboard-stiff awkwardness. I see the physical and emotional effects of the untouched in my office each week, and it breaks my heart. Pat Harris was my first grade teacher. She had a Hug-Me-Spot right by the door to her classroom. No student could enter her room in the morning or leave her room in the afternoon without hugging Miss Harris on the Hug-Me-Spot. This world needs a Hug-Me-Spot. This world needs an army of Miss Harrises. The rules and restrictions have created a generation of kids that don't know what touch is actually appropriate, and adults that are too glued to their phones to use their hands to rub their child's back or snuggle on the couch. These touch-starved kids marry each other and are LONELY and starving for affection that was never modeled for them. And here we are. I challenge you to touch someone today. And tomorrow. And the next day. Hug. Cuddle. Kiss your partner. Squeeze your child. Hold hands. Make touch a part of your day every day. We may really change the world. 🌎 Let's try it. ☀️ Godspeed. There are SO many ways to use a daily planner. Over the years, I have tried numerous daily planners: Planner Perfect Traveler's Notebook system, Passion Planner Daily, Erin Condren Daily Petite Planner, bullet journaling, Michael Hyatt's Full Focus Planner, and Emily Ley's Simplified Planner Daily. The 3 that I stuck with the longest are Planner Perfect, Passion Planner, and EC Daily Petite. I really enjoyed bullet journaling, but it seemed to take more time than I currently have available since everything is blank and undated. Planner Perfect is also blank and undated (other than the pre-printed week-at-a-glance and month-at-a-glance in each of her monthly journals), BUT if you receive her monthly subscription box, you'll get 3 coordinating washi tapes for the month and 4 coordinating sticker pages for the month which make it easy to set up your monthly book. I also find it calming and rhythmic to lay down washi and stickers every month in a freshly printed traveler's notebook that I know will change out of my beautiful, rich, fabulously-leather-smelling Coco TN each and every month. It really is like a fresh start and a new beginning each month. There is something to be said for that. ☀️ Ways to use a daily planner (what to write in it):
Using a daily planner may seem cumbersome, time-wasting, like overkill, or even pointless to some. At times, I agree. Other times, however, I feel like I'm in 4th grade again - unable to drive yet- unable to see my friends freely - and full of creative energy and thoughts that need to land somewhere. I have markers, pens, coloring pencils, stamps, washi tape, and a TV with streaming services or Audible with any book I want or a phone with YouTube and AirPods to fill my creative or avoidant needs.
Planning CAN be numbing, and that's okay. I know a 40-something woman decorating paper with stickers is a much healthier outlet than substance abuse or an eating disorder and I do not say that lightly. Addiction is real. Trauma is real. Numbing is real. Self-soothing is real. Finding healthy and safe ways to calm our nervous system can be both life-giving and life-saving. YOU may just like pens and paper. I encourage you to take your planning love for what it is and enjoy it. I never met a dual-tip marker I didn't like. 😜✍️📝🌻 I was listening to Emily P Freeman's episode with Shauna Niequist and one of Shauna's quotes struck me right in the sternum. Ouch! Immediate shame washed over me and so I had to check myself. Shame and I have been working ourselves out this past year or so, and so when She (shame) comes around, all my bells and whistles go off. Hold up, wait a minute - why did those words sting me like a fresh slap on the cheek? I think it is because they are TRUE. As women, we can connect or we can compare, but we cannot do both. A little louder for the people in the back. WE CAN CONNECT OR WE CAN COMPARE BUT WE CANNOT DO BOTH. These are Shauna's words reiterated and repeated by Emily. I am going to break this down on a practical level, because this is one lesson I hope I never forget. How do we connect and/or compare ourselves as women? Let me count the ways! Think of all the women you may encounter on a daily basis and check yourself on whether you have sized them up or stood with them in their journey.
Now consider if you've ever had these thoughts or even verbalized them with another woman ABOUT another woman... (gut punch)
I recently finished the book "What Happened to You?" by Dr. Bruce D. Perry and Oprah Winfrey. The concept inside the book includes a HUGE mindset shift from thinking "what's wrong with you?" to "what happened to you?". If someone you know or love is acting in ways that are not the norm- displaying anger, depression, anxiety, mood swings, childishness, avoidance, bitterness, negativity, or any emotion we don't "like" - take a deep breath. That person is CLEARLY struggling. Instead of taking another person's toxic behavior personally, acknowledge that something is going on within that person. They are acting out because something at some time happened to them or is happening now to them. Now, apply this concept of what happened to you AND the concept of connection instead of comparison and apply it to all those women we listed above:
Ladies, can we see the difference here?
Connection versus comparison??? Shauna is right! We can connect or we can compare but we CANNOT do both. Giving TOO MUCH grace, not holding boundaries, and "letting people off the hook" are worthy of their own post, but the simple art of connection is still a fantastic place to START. Let us begin with common ground and try to excise the comparison. Comparison really is the thief of joy my friends (thanks Teddy Roosevelt). Let us come together as ONE body of women and humans and recognize what joins us. We all face similar adversities as women, and tearing each other down is killing us as a sisterhood and internally at a soul level. To all the women in my life, I see you. I know you. I could be you. Let me recognize YOU and acknowledge YOU before my mind plays games. Ask any healer anywhere (nurse, therapist, doctor, anyone in the healing arts) and they will agree that at the most basic level, on our most vulnerable days, in our weakest moments, we are ALL the same. At our first breath and our last, we are completely and entirely the same. Comparison be gone. Godspeed. A recent blog reader commented on my pandemic lessons post with the comment "we are not all scared and trying to stay alive." I have had to sit with that for a few days. I am not scared of death... for many reasons... but a lot of it does have to do with my blood, sweat, and tears I have poured into countless patients for decades now... as well as my faith, but the two seem very intertwined when I think of my own mortality. I think another reason is that I have a chronic illness and I know end-stage pulmonary fibrosis (how my disease usually pans out) is not a cake walk, so if God calls me home at another time for another reason, I am okay with that. But, I think it's her last little bit of commentary that hasn't settled well in my soul. "We are not all trying to stay alive." We are not all trying to stay alive. 🤔 🤷♀️ 🧐 But aren't we, though? Isn't that why all of these scenarios insight fear, panic, palpitations, stomach-drops, sweaty palms, and often tears?
This post is not meant to be a Debbie Downer. It's meant to be a reality check for myself, and perhaps for you too. Every SINGLE day in my work, I encounter people I hold dear now after all these years that are FIGHTING to stay alive. Whether it is cancer, chronic disease, renal failure requiring dialysis, congenital or acquired physical disability (think MS, cerebral palsy, and paraplegia to name a few), OR they are in an unsafe home environment OR they are mentally on the brink of self-harm. they are each FIGHTING to stay alive. The following examples have all taken place in the past 2 years along with countless other patient deaths (some covid, some not), but these have rocked me. I lost my first patient to suicide this year and I am not the same. I always worried about him. I would leave our visits thinking about him. Did I do enough? I lost a close friend my age, someone I admired- so many admired- this past year to a 6-year battle with colon cancer, and I have tried to help my friend of 27 years keep herself and her children together during and after that loss. I am still learning - we all are. This is new territory for us. I lost a patient my age that was so much like me health-wise and personality-wise that it was like looking in the mirror every time we had our visits. We just happened to have different colored skin, but our hearts, fears, loves, and passions were so aligned. I was the one her son called while the nurses were "pounding on mama's chest" and I was the one weeping in my parents' backyard looking to the heavens begging God "please don't take her, she's not ready. Please don't take her, she's not ready. Please, please, please Lord don't take her yet." As I attended her funeral, it was like I was attending my own. I still think of her so very often. So yes, dear reader, I can agree that most of the time I choose not to live in fear. I have a "crappy" (it's my blog and I will almost-cuss if I want to) autoimmune disease that makes me feel lousy some days and fine other days. I take mouthfuls of medicine twice a day and my Humira costs could house a small family (thank you Aetna for your coverage). Occasionally, I "fear" not ever seeing my 2 youngest sons graduate high school or college. I "fear" never meeting my grandchildren, and sometimes I "fear" my precious boys having to take care of dear old Mom. I'm afraid I won't get to tell them everything I want them to know about me, about love, about God, about marriage, about friendship, about what truly matters, and about how to navigate the good days and the bad days. How to forgive, how to keep moving forward, and how to love themselves. Honestly, I think it is part of why I felt this huge push to write. They don't read my words now, but they might one day. But as for not trying to stay alive? I will disagree with every hair on my head, bone in my body, and adjective in my razor-sharp vocabulary on that friend. I AM TRYING EVERY SECOND OF EVERY DAY TO STAY ALIVE. And I stand witness and hold space for every other person I have cared for during my career in nursing and medicine who were all and are all still trying to do the same. I learned a new term today during a visit to Little Havana in Miami. It was made for the patriots who were anti-Castro who often became political prisoners. They were named "Plantados" - they stood planted, strong, unmoving, unwilling to step down. I am a Plantado for life, sister who made that comment. I shall never budge on that. I am here, showing up, every single day- trying to stay alive. I welcome my fellow Lifers. Let us make this world a little better each day. 🌎 Please help support my fellow Hope*Writers
by reading their work 🥰 Does Fear Have a Place in the Life of a Christian? By Regina Marcazzo-Skarka https://reginamarcazzoskarka.wordpress.com/?p=90 Living Fearless By Sharla Hallett www.sharlahallett.com/living-fearless/ I ain't afraid: Reflections on turning 50 By Jessica Weaver www.rootedunrooted.com/blog/i-aint-afraid When Hidden Fear Creeps Out By Dianne Vielhuber https://simplewordsoffaith.com/2021/10/31/when-hidden-fear-creeps-out/ How to Help Kids with Anxiety and Fear By Ashley Olivine https://louvaria.com/how-to-help-kids-with-anxiety-and-fear/ |