google-site-verification=ZTYg11mvIYHNbEU2g5SxL9_QHKENf5J6gzQJmMAjvss
What do we say when we don't know what to say? We have good intentions of encouraging our loved ones, but we have no idea how to do so. Encouragement can feel obligatory on the sending end and inauthentic on the receiving end. And that FEELS BAD for both parties. We have all been there. Someone dies unexpectedly. Someone receives a terrible diagnosis. A divorce comes out of nowhere. A tragic accident. Our partner says something cruel or doesn't meet our emotional needs. A friend is struggling with infertility or has a miscarriage. Our friend is venting about a difficult situation. Here are some tips for what to say and what not to say:
Do/say this:
Don't do/say this:
Encouragement should feel good for the giver and the recipient. It takes practice on BOTH ends to make it work. At times, we are simply in too much pain to receive any encouragement and that is okay. Other times, we as givers are not in the best mental head space and must take care of ourselves before we can expend energy dolling out encouragement to friends or family members. In those situations, communication is key. Boundaries are vital. And reassurance that your person is important to you is paramount.
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 fellow hope*writers by reading their works inspired by the prompt word ENCOURAGE: 4 Ways to Encourage Yourself in the Lord by Sharla Hallett https://sharlahallett.com/4-ways-to-encourage-yourself-in-the-lord/ Simple Is Better – Never Underestimate the Power of Encouragement by Dianne Vielhuber https://simplewordsoffaith.com/2023/08/01/simple-is-better-never-underestimate-the-power-of-encouragement/ Encouragement to Bloom by Lisa Crowder https://lisacrowder.substack.com/p/encouragement-to-bloom How Can Parents Encourage Emotional Development? By Ashley Olivine https://www.ashleyolivine.com/how-can-parents-encourage-emotional-development/
0 Comments
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 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.
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. "It's okay" I cooed in the dimly lit room "You are here and that's what matters" I offered as I swallowed the doom "Mom is gone" I announced if announce is the word It was a whisper. But it was final. I don't think they even heard... "It's a boy!" the doctor claimed and he held the baby up like a prize The mom cried and so did I because miracles still dampen my eyes Between the first day and the last day of each of our patients' lives Is a Thursday and a Monday and days our lives will intertwine Some days we are helping you and comforting or mending or teaching Other days we are sweating and saving and praying, begging, and reaching We don't control it, this fine line between your first day and your last But we often witness it, we hold space for it and we get etched in each others' paths Do I ignore it? Forget it? Pretend I didn't see it... or feel it or hear it or bow down and plead it? I don't think so, I just can't so, I let the tears fall when I can and we get up, lace our shoes up, and act undefeated It's an honor, a privilege, a duty dear friends but it's hard and it's long and some days barely end And no one asks us how we're doing, because we do the healing But I'm a mama, and a daughter, and a person with feelings. So at night, in the dark, when the beeps and alarms are gone Maybe next to our loved ones or maybe quiet and alone We cry and we replay and we wish and we sorrow As we heal our own boo-boos and do it all again tomorrow Author's note:
We don't forget. We saw it. We felt it. You were seen. And you were here. And we were with you. If you have a pet of any kind, you know the joy that pets bring into our lives. While they do come with a certain level of commitment and work, they offer benefits that far outweigh what they require of us. Now that I am six years into my primary chronic illness, sarcoidosis, I feel like I can discuss pet therapy with conviction. Prior to becoming "sick," I always had a pet - from childhood on. It wasn't really until I became ill, however, that I realized what my dogs had done for my mental health. My physical health has also improved thanks to being a pet-owner. Here are 10 ways owning a pet can help you with your chronic illness:
Charlie the Dachshund is always there for me. He will wait on me wherever I go and follow me no matter what. He needs my help to get his food, water, and to let him outside. It feels good to be needed by someone or something that doesn't really expect much in return, ESPECIALLY with a chronic illness. I can be sick, tired, or both in front of him and not feel self-conscious. I can tell him all my thoughts and fears, and he won't judge me. I can even moan out loud in pain or cry at my medical misfortune and he doesn't flinch. Instead, he meets me with loving kindness and is a steady force of calm in my daily life. Have you ever been picked last for a team or a project? Have you ever been sitting at the END of a table and no one really acknowledged your presence during the lively, laugh-out-loud dinner that everyone else seemed to be having? Have you ever been cut off during a conversation when someone "cooler or prettier or funnier or more magnetic" stepped into the mix? What if you vote a certain way but you're surrounded by others who vote differently? You want them to love you for you, but are you having to hide part of yourself in order to belong? What if you have a different opinion but keep it to yourself in fear of others' reactions? What if you don't even feel like you belong in your own home? Isn't home supposed to be your safe space?
So, again, I think we have all experienced this feeling. Disconnected. Cast out. Overlooked. Unwanted. Unnecessary. Unimportant. Small. Invisible. Rejected. Source: Brene Brown's Atlas of the Heart Since we all know we can't control the thoughts or actions of others, let's focus on what WE can do the next time we feel this way. Here are 10 ways you can (and I do these myself) try to reach the feeling of BELONGING again:
Now let us review. Somebody somewhere made you feel left out, unwanted, or overlooked. You start to list all the reasons you are just that: unwanted and overlooked. Then you REMEMBER these tips to get back to belonging and you pull at least one of them out. Consider it a secret weapon. Use it. Allow yourself to feel both ways - both the ickiness of unbelonging and the comfort of true connection once you have found your way back. Teach someone else you love how to do this the next time they call you searching for validation. And hey. Just so you know, I would pick you. Godspeed. The following post is one mom's experience with autism. One family's experience. This author and I both understand that autism exists on a spectrum and this is just one example of the spectrum. What do I want you to know about autism? Since I am neuro-typical, I can only give you a mother’s perspective. So, last night, I asked my 15-year-old with autism what they want people to understand about autism. After a moment’s thought, they had two things to tell others. First, in their typical blunt manner, C said, “Autism is a spectrum, it doesn’t always look like a little 6-year-old boy who can’t control himself.” I thought this was a great point. Our autism story isn’t typical. My kid, born in a female body, wasn’t diagnosed until last year, when they were 14. (For the purposes of this post, I’m using gender neutral pronouns and the letter C for their name.) They’ve struggled with a number of things for years: reading was hard, paying attention in school was a disaster, building and maintaining relationships with “normal” peers was super challenging. The autism diagnosis was a sigh of relief for all of us. Finally, we had a name that encompassed a wide variety of things: social skills that were getting harder to manage in middle school, sensory issues that seemed to becoming more intense, and a hyper-fixation on a growing, rotating range of topics. Autism was not a negative diagnosis for us. It was an answer and in it, I found hope. It took years for me to start thinking about autism for my kid. To me, autism looked like one of two things: it was either the young boy whose autism made them unpredictable, a person with special needs, or it was the savant, again a boy, who could tell you everything you needed to know about his particular fascination. In fact, it was C who came to me and said, “Mom, I think I have autism.” In the next breath and typical fashion, “I’ve been doing some research.” My sweet kid, from the moment they were born, was never typical. They were happy and silly and the third born. They could be laughing one minute and asleep on your lap the next. C was cuddly and tender one moment, but at the next moment, trying some stunt that would make a mom’s heart stutter with nerves. They could listen to me read to them for long hours or play a silly made up game all afternoon, but could never concentrate long enough to finish math problems. We got an ADHD diagnosis when C was quite young. (That’s another thing C would want you to know: often Autism is misdiagnosed in females as ADHD because Autism presents differently in girls and practitioners don’t think females have autism.) And in that moment, an ADHD diagnosis was a tool—it gave our family a framework for understanding that our kid’s brain worked differently. We could accommodate their learning and home life to best suit their needs. C is smart, funny, talented, creative, and silly. Their diagnosis forced me, as a mom, to reframe the negative lens through which this is seen. I wasn’t going to let them think their ADHD was an affliction. Instead, ADHD was their superpower—they saw the world differently than I did. It’s just that the world isn’t really made for kids whose brains aren’t like everyone else’s. Everything fell apart in Middle School. Well, Middle school and a pandemic and online learning and adolescence. It was the perfect storm of horrible-ness. It has been a rocky couple of years for my kid (and me) as we’ve discovered the autism diagnosis and struggled mightily with mental health. (One more thing C would say, because they think of things at random times unrelated to anything else, is that because autism is diagnosed so late in girls, most girls with autism struggle with depression, anxiety and a sense of “who am I?” and “why can’t I be like everyone else?” An earlier diagnosis could help relieve some of that angst.) This is the first time I’ve ever put this story down in words. It feels rather momentous to do so. Yet, when I tell people in my orbit that C has autism, some are surprised, but for most, who know us, it just rolls off their back. “Huh,” they say and move on to something else. Because for them, as well as us, it’s just a way to define the way my kid is, the way they move and think and interact with the world. And someday, this culture will understand what a gift a brain like that is. I am convinced that someday C is going to change the world. Oh, and C wants everyone to know something else about autism: “Mom, make sure you say that moms who have kids with autism aren’t superheroes. They’re just moms. Like you.” C makes me laugh so hard I can’t breathe. They will share their saved memes with me for 30 minutes just to get some parental attention and then later lock themselves in their room and not want to talk to anyone. They challenge the way I think and expand my view of what success looks like in the world and teach me a gazillion things I never thought I would have to know. While I wish the world was an easier place for my sweet one, I would never, in a million years, change this part of who they are. And that is what I want you to know about autism. Sammy Beuker is a wife, mom, Youth Worker, friend, and writer who lives in Grand Rapids, Michigan. When she isn’t managing her complicated family life, she works with teenagers at her local church. You can find her and her newsletter at sammybeuker.com where you can follow along on her journey to publication or on IG @sammyanne_b where she posts about her life, writing, books, food, family, faith and her golden retriever, Monty. Thank you Sammy (and C!!!) for sharing your words with my readers. Thank you for having the courage to tell your story. This touched me! ❤️ -Amy at Taylored Intent There is nothing worse than having a fight or flight response. It can last for hours once the adrenaline and cortisol dump into the bloodstream. It is bad enough when you have that response and you know what caused it, but imagine having that response without knowing what caused it. That can feel defeating and depleting. Since I have had too many panic attacks to count over the years, I have started to identify ways and places I feel safe. If I am able to get to one of these places, I can sometimes head off a panic attack or restore a calm mood. I hope you can start to identify your safe places and safe activities. For ME, my top 7 are:
I created a Power Hour with my husband 1-2 years ago. This hour from 7-8 pm is sacred and did not happen until at least 10 years into my marriage. There were lots of reasons we were not connecting regularly, but one of them was some strained family dynamics. I created this time and location so that we could start to connect regularly and so that other family members would respect that time we both needed so desperately. Naming what you need is so important. Deciding what will happen and when it will happen is paramount for consistency and expectations in a relationship. As I have said many times, I am not a licensed therapist.
When I found my AMAZING current therapist, one of the very first things she guided me to ask myself regularly was "do I feel safe?". I barely had time to stretch for 5 minutes a day, so how was I going to remember to ask myself if I feel safe? What in the world was she talking about? I soon realized that the simple, brief, piercing question "do I feel safe?" would become a huge turning point for healing in my life. Do I feel safe in this friendship? Do I feel safe in this marriage? Do I feel safe at work? Do I feel safe with just me, myself, and I? And if I don't feel safe, can I ask those that love me for what I need? Are there some strategies we could implement that would help me to feel safe? Do I need to close spend more time with those people and in those places that help me feel safe? Will that help me navigate the unavoidable situations where I do not feel safe? And most importantly, if I start to feel unsafe (which can sometimes lead to a panic attack), HOW can I get back to safety both mentally and physically? She freed up my LIFE when she explained that I don't have to "fix" whatever is making me feel unsafe. I just have to learn how to regulate my own body and get back to a place of calm and centeredness. Wow. Mic Drop. I don't have to fix it! I can't fix it! This is one of those posts I encourage you to read a few times and perhaps grab a pen and paper. Jot down the places and people who make you feel icky. Write down the people and places that make you feel GOOD. And try to stop focusing on fixing the first list. You can't fix it. Focus on spending more time in and around the second list. And find your seven ways and places to feel safe. Godspeed. I distinctly remember a conversation I had with an acquaintance when I was a brand new NP in my late 20s. I did not have children yet, but I had made some poor money decisions (traveling and shopping outside of my means mostly). The woman chatting with me (who was 10-15 years my senior) said "Oooooooh, I can only imagine how much money you make. You're a nurse practitioner!" She added "If I were you, I would go get a Starbucks every day! I would pay someone to clean my house! I would buy whatever I wanted." What she didn't know:
What I didn't know:
So - what does any of that have to do with me taking my lunch to work every day as an adult? The truth is, everything. Every. Single. Thing. My plans for this post were to include healthy lunch tips. I was going to post pictures of a variety of healthy lunches I have made and taken (those don't happen during baseball season). I was going to calculate the money I have saved over the past 12-15 years I have been brown-bagging my lunch. But here's the truth. This is why I take my lunch every day. Are you ready?
And I guess me laying all that out to you, friends, is the point. I like the truth. I like the real WHY. I see through the frivolities in life and I shudder at the brand-chasing and label-seeking that drives so many. There is no dollar amount one could pay me to give up my kindergarten-style lunches. It's what I need at this moment right now, and it keeps me sane. Time is my Starbucks - freedom is my housekeeper. To write, to think, to create, to build something from nothing. That's what I chase. Until then, there's homework and practice and rehearsal and charts. Laundry and dishes and puberty and a tired Mom pouring her heart out on the internet. Find your "lunch" --- figure out what keeps you off the edge and what you really want to chase. Godspeed. ❤️ 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.
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. When I sat down to do my YEARLY REVIEW at the end of 2021, I was literally drained. I was exhausted: mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. I could barely even form a sentence in my head. As I started PLANNING MY YEAR AHEAD as I usually do each holiday season, I started to see just how many things were already on my calendar. I am not sure if I felt disbelief, disgust, or disenchantment. "That will be cancelled. That won't happen. I doubt we actually do that." After two years of cancelled, postponed, and rescheduled plans, I almost reached for a pencil instead of a pen. I am eternally optimistic, but I am TIRED. You know those days where you sit down in the evening and you feel like you've been to DisneyWorld with 2 toddlers and 2 strollers and a newborn? Those days where you are driving home from a busy day in family practice and you aren't even exactly sure what your own name is (much less a disease or dosage of medication)? I feel like we've all had TWO YEARS of those days. So I decided to just boycott goals altogether for 2022. I wasn't going to make goal(s) for Health, Finance, Education, Personal Growth, Career, Family, Marriage, Spirituality, Home, etc like I usually do every year. The thought of doing that after I wrote my GOAL SETTING post was just as insurmountable as climbing Mount Everest (for this girl who already battles a chronic lung disease). Choosing a word for the year? Meh. And usually I am ALL OVER THAT!. But the only words that have come to mind lately (that don't include mild profanity) are flexibility, change, resiliency, and stamina. And I realize all of those words are entrenched in what I have LEARNED FROM THIS PANDEMIC as a frontline family NP. So I haven't chosen a word just yet. And I'm not sure that I will choose one for 2022.
And what I'm finding is that wearing ACTUAL CLOTHES (no scrubs, no standard mom "leggings and a tee" uniform) makes me feel better. It makes me feel better about myself, my life, my marriage, my work, and my day. I never thought I would be typing this, but it's TRUE. I choose healthier foods and move more when my pants have a zipper and a button. 👖 I try to have healthier emotional reactions when I don't look like I just rolled out of bed. 🧘♀️ I am reminded of my passion for medicine when I am dressed the professional part. 👩⚕️ I am even nicer to my husband when I like my reflection in the mirror. 👩❤️👨 I feel better about spending all the money I have spent on clothes now that I am actually wearing them. 😜 So there you have it. I set one goal for 2022. It is simple and it used to be automatic. What happened to the girl who loved shoes and purses and dressing up? Where did she go? Who and what took her from me? I feel her trying to emerge again. She is ready for this new year. She has no idea what's going to happen and no control over any of it. But she is showing up. And she looks and feels AMAZING. 👗 *** most of the time
*** except on Mondays *** or on days when her kids are off the chain *** but she is trying ☀️ 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.
Part of the reason I keep a planner is because my memory is terrible. Just ask my best friend since third grade. I blame it on nursing and NP school and having to memorize so many drugs and diseases. I also blame it on having lived in four states and meeting several "sets of people" in my lifetime. Anyway, when I sit down to start my year end review, I grab my planner. I repress memories which I am working on in therapy, but I really can’t remember what happened the past year without flipping through each month and glancing at big moments. I am not exactly sure why my brain is like that, but it is and yours may be too? Sometimes my mind is blown when I look at everything that happened in my personal or professional or emotional life in one calendar year. How do we survive with the pace and the demands of the world today? When is enough enough? Everyone I know feels like they’re drowning with all the work deadlines, projects, meetings, kids' activities, sports, and that's not even accounting for the emotional toll the past 2 years have taken on every single one of us. When I look back over 2021 in my own life, the following events come to light:
As I look back over the events of 2021, it often sparks me to plan and reserve trips or experiences for 2022. My manager also loves that I give her my days off for the entire year in December or January. I realize you might not be able to do this, but it actually reduces my anxiety knowing in January when I will be off throughout the year. If I am having an extremely stressful season / week / month, I already know the upcoming days of rest that are scheduled. My patients appreciate it too... less moving and rearranging (sorry for those reading this- 2021 was rough on my schedule!). 🤪 Sitting down and performing a yearly review also gives me reassurance or reminders of certain events I do NOT want to attend or participate in again. It helps me to identify what was life-giving and what was life-draining. That clarity is HUGE. You'll notice I did not list the following (but they all also happened): hurt feelings, miscommunication, personal growth, continued grief, strained conversations, burnout, apathy, frustration, disdain, regret, fear, hopelessness, anger, and anxiety. While I am not listing those publicly, they are named on my heart and mind. Thanks to counseling, I am trying not to wear them inside my body (The Body Keeps The Score by Bessel Van Der Kolk, MD). I am intentionally working to process and let go as I go instead of swallowing or shoving it down, or worse- spewing it out. This is hard work. This is a big deal. So I encourage you as we wrap up 2021 and enter 2022, to sit down and block off a good 30 minutes to yourself. Scroll through your planner or your Google Calendar or your Facebook pictures and think about the past 12 months. What felt good? What felt icky? Who gave you energy when you were around them? Who made you feel bad about yourself? What habits added to your life? What subtracted? Look at your screen time averages on your phone. Maybe set a goal to lower those. A fellow blogger in my writer's group wrote a piece about our children remembering us looking at our phones instead of looking at their faces. LET THAT SINK IN FOR A MINUTE. I may write a piece about goal-setting and planning for the year ahead, but I would be a sham if I told you I set any goals for 2021. I didn't even know I would start writing this year. This nudge just got so big in July that I just started (oh yeah, I forgot our trip to Birmingham this summer). I was in a hotel room in Birmingham with keyed-up pre-teens, a snoring husband (love you babe), and a laptop staring at me. I had to process all this STUFF and it just started. So just start. Even if you only take the next 2-5 minutes to reflect on 2021. I beg of you to do it. So many of us are just sleepwalking through life. Work. Supper. Kids. TV. Bed. Repeat. Weekend. And repeat again. Let us all try some self-evaluation, life-evaluation, emotional-evaluation. What is life-giving and what is life-draining? What brings you joy? The only person keeping me from writing was ME. What will YOU allow yourself to do in 2022? Godspeed. I have been waking up before 5 AM consistently for 11 years. It started with necessity, nursing my child before work, but it continued for several reasons. When my firstborn was an infant, my stepson was eight. This meant I had to be stealthfully quiet as I woke the baby, fed him, spent some time with him, and then passed him to his daddy while I showered and dressed for work. It was a time before AirPods, and before I had discovered podcasts or Audible. Facebook was barely a thing. And phones in general were just not attached to everyone’s hands like they are today. It was in these near silent moments without technology, with only a cuddly warm baby in my lap, that I discovered the true meaning of quiet contentment. Just me, rocking my baby boy guided only by the white noise sound machine and gentle soft lighting. I wasn’t scrolling. I wasn’t comparing. I wasn’t wishing, nor was I regretting. There was no self-loathing. My job had not even adopted an electronic medical record yet, so working from home was not possible. I wasn’t paying bills from a little icon on my phone. I didn’t have 400 emails in my inbox, or at least I didn’t know that I had them. Just quiet. Just peaceful. Just two humans bound by DNA and love and touch and time. Fast forward to 2021 and that baby is in sixth grade. My stepson has left the nest and is thriving, and my youngest son is in fourth grade. My alarm still goes off at 4:30 AM, but I am alone. Yes, the house is still quiet like it was back then. The lights are still low. But things have changed. There is a technological miracle that fits in the palm of my hand now. It is full of red dots that quicken my pulse. There is a slick, silver, almost paper-thin computer that is full of lab results and refill requests and exam notes to finish. Now I know that I have 400 emails in my inbox. There are all these little icons in my hand that tell me I’m not good enough when I open them. There are ads everywhere that seem to call my digital wallet’s name. What happened to those early morning quiet moments? My eyes fill with tears as I type this. Yes, most mornings I participate in healthy self care such as prayer, Journaling, or mindfulness... but let’s be honest. If I choose to pick up this Fair-weather friend that follows me everywhere, I disappear. Those quiet peaceful moments disappear. I am not touching anyone. I am not gazing at someone I love and enjoying that feeling of togetherness and connection. This quiet house? Well it’s telling me it needs to be dusted and decorated. Those sleeping children? They need agendas signed and class party treats sent in and uniforms washed and clarinet reeds ordered. My husband may or may not be at work, but if he is did I reach out to him? And if he’s home, did I reach out to him? Oh wait- there goes my timer. Time to hop in the shower, put the bacon in the oven, get those boys up and moving. There goes my heart rate rising with each deadline and inbox item that crosses my mind. Oh, yes, I’m productive. I’m organized. Just ask all my friends and family. But is that the legacy I want to leave? ‘ She is so efficient. She can get it all done. Tears in my eyes again, geez. I would rather be known as Amy that helped me. Amy that loved me. Amy that made me feel important. Amy that I could count on. But most of all, Amy that I knew inside and out- between the lines and in the trenches. You see, getting it all done can be quite lonely. Have I been so busy getting it all done that I forgot to connect? Constantly looking at this lit up master that fits in my hand honestly makes me feel like crap. Yes- there are laughs and good reads hopefully like this one. There’s my longtime friend’s child or grandchild. The books and music and podcasts usually add instead of subtract. But all those red dots? I hate them. They steal little tiny pieces of me and I can’t really explain it. My children won’t know a world without the red dots, and that makes me sad. So here I am, on a rainy Wednesday morning, now voice-texting into this devilish device to create this message. I think it is a message for myself more than anything. Gosh these stupid tears. What is going on? I need to rewind. I need to go back. Back to the quiet simple peaceful mornings. I need to let go. I need to reach out even more than I need to let go. Who is with me? A fantastic human I call my friend gifted me with this poem this week. She didn't write it, but she knew I needed it. And now, I gift it to you. ☀️ safire-rose.com/books-and-media/poetry/she-let-go 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. 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. 😜✍️📝🌻 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/ Hey, I know you. I share a bed, a remote, and a living room with you. I ride in the front seat with you. I talk to you numerous times a day about kids and groceries and logistics. I know how you take your coffee and what you like on your pizza. But, do I know you right now, at this very moment, 12 years in, more or less than I did say 10 years ago? BEFORE our conversations revolved around schedules and pickups and homework. I know I have changed in the last 12 years. Surely you have as well? Have I asked? Have I noticed? Have you seen the changes in me? Have you noticed? Are we giving each other what we need? (my therapist is ALWAYS in my ear- "tell them what you NEED Amy! tell that person what you NEED.") Every year we try to take a trip sans kiddos to regroup, reconnect, unplug, and just have fun together. It is a WORTHY investment (time and money) in a marriage or relationship. Parenting is hard! Adulting is hard! Marriage is hard! Sure, some people make it look easy, but let's leave them out of it and talk about the real work that staying married involves. We usually try some "games" or conversation starters to break our habit of only talking about our kids, our jobs, or our day-to-day frustrations. Sometimes we play "would you rather?". Here are some of the ones we asked this last date night:
Wait, what just happened? We soon realized that the frivolous conversations led to deeper ones and that was the eventual goal anyway, BUT had we ever really talked about any of these things? We have not crossed into some of those territories personally, but we have witnessed other loved ones facing different challenges. Those various challenges have seemed more frequent as we age, or perhaps our reservoirs of empathy grow deeper with maturity and life experience. To be quite frank, husband and I had not attended many funerals together prior to the last 2-3 years. We were busy attending weddings or baby showers. That dress with heels and coat and tie now have a different destination it seems. And so it goes. This weekend we've discussed our future grandparent names, how we picture retirement for each of us individually as well as together, and trips we plan to take. We have discussed aging parents and various family caregiving scenarios. Our first few "just us" getaways involved naps and recovery from pure exhaustion and planning out toddler birthday parties, Halloween costume ideas, or Santa ideas. Now we are brainstorming passive income ideas, retirement goals, and our own personal dreams and desires. We are transforming, both together and separately, from Mom & Dad, to 2 people with our own passions, fears, and personal insecurities. I am by no means a marriage expert.
I have seen a beautiful example of marriage in my parents and some of my other family members. Husband and I have each had a failed marriage prior to this one, so we know how painful divorce is and we are each way too stubborn to go down without a fight. I'm not writing this as a beacon of marital bliss, but rather as a tired working mom in the thick of motherhood, menopause, and midlife (try having kids in your mid-30's) 😜. I am writing this as an imperfect, hard-to-please, bleeding-heart woman married to an imperfect, hard-headed, scared-of-abandonment man that didn't see the example of marriage that I saw growing up. We are actually two scared-of-being-vulnerable humans bound together by beautiful boys and God, fate, the universe - but we, too, are still trying to figure it all out. If you find yourself still figuring it all out, it's OKAY. Stay the course. My Uncle Don told me one time many years ago, "Amy, you know how to stay married, right? long pause. You just never leave. Neither of you. You stay and you don't leave." Time and space apart can sometimes be good for a marriage. They can allow room to think and heal. But time TOGETHER has been our best strategy. Make your marriage a priority. Make your spouse a priority. He or she is a worthy investment. You can read all the books and try all the counseling, but sometimes you just need TIME together and conversations that bring you closer than you thought you might ever be. Godspeed. Once you have decided on a planner, you will immediately start thinking of ways to use the Notes Pages in the back of the planner. Below, I show you pages from my own planners over the years. Some of the other ways I have used my notes pages include:
📝 ✍️ Happy planning!!! 📒📚
I was pretty sure an acorn grew into a tree. I haven't been in first grade for a while, but I thought I remembered an acorn grew into an oak tree. I decided I better look it up before I wrote an entire post about it, and alas... an acorn does grow into an oak tree. Wikipedia expounded upon acorns being used in art, cuisine, customs, and as food for various birds and mammals. When I took the picture of the acorn in my husband's hand this morning, I wasn't thinking about anything but stored potential. Stored potential. I remembered squirrels collect and store acorns for the winter. And they eat the acorns. And those eaten acorns never reach their calling of becoming a beautiful oak tree.
There are all kinds of books and stories and even a finance app regarding the acorn as a tool for storage, delayed potential, growth. And yet... Here we are, scrolling on our phones or our laptops or our tablets (thank you, dear readers, and I do mean that)... Did we write that book we wanted to write? Did we take that ballroom dance class we wanted to take? Did we belt it at karaoke night like we'd been rehearsing with our brush mic in front of our bathroom mirror? (Okay, Susie did but that was the bottomless margaritas singing, not her true heart's desire to sing on a stage in front of strangers and have someone's heart beat a little faster and someone's eyes water at the sheer sound of her voice... wait, maybe that's just me)? Did we finally tell our friend we were sorry when we did that thing that's rolled around in the back of our minds for 20 years? Did we hold our child close to our chest and tell them everything is going to be okay even though we know it might not be okay and we don't want to be the reason they're in therapy later but we don't want to pretend everything is okay, oh my goodness, what is the right answer? Did we apply for the promotion we know we deserve or let another opportunity pass us by? Did we sign up for the race we know we aren't ready for but really, really want to try? Did we tell the person that hurt us repeatedly that they did hurt us and going forward, did we define what we need from them? Did we look in the mirror this morning and like every single inch of our bodies and every single fiber of our heart and soul because God designed us as a masterpiece, beautifully and wonderfully made, despite society's measuring sticks? Or, did we remain on the leaf-covered ground like the acorn... waiting for a squirrel or bird or toddler to scoop us up? Were we stored away for another day? Were we consumed before we ever began our destiny? An oak tree is a beautiful destiny. She is strong, tall, sturdy, and beautiful, with colors that change with the seasons. She provides shelter, shade, and structure. She never leaves us and she stays the same for the most part. You know what else is beautiful? A mother who tells her children she has been hurt too, and that it really is all going to be okay. That she KNOWS it's going to be okay, because she is okay and she will help them be okay as long as she is on this earth. A wife who tells her partner what she needs from them even if she doesn't know if they can give her what she needs. A friend who tells the truth when asked if she's okay. And a friend who recognizes her own flaws and asks for patience and understanding. A daughter who can look at her elderly parents and recognize every line on their face and hands for all its good and bad and steadfastness. She can see herself acquiring those same lines and she knows the toll each one has taken. She knows that her own children will see her lines one day, and she hopes they give her the same recognition. I'm typing this on the porch of a cabin on a lake in north Georgia and the acorns are literally spilling from the treetops hitting the ground HARD and abruptly and with force and determination. Each one comes down on this cabin rooftop or leaf-scattered ground with a POUND or a BOOM or a SNAP. And my heart is full. For I know the destiny of each tiny acorn. She is yearning to become a beautiful oak. She is waiting for her moment to rise. Now it is your turn. What path will you choose? Will you make the hard decisions, let your voice be heard, show up for those who love and need you? Or will you stay on the ground... waiting... watching... allowing life to happen all around you? I dare you to stand. I will stand with you. |