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Southland in the Springtime- that's a song by the Indigo Girls in case you didn't know- check it out 🎶
Now I challenge you. Think of what you love about spring. Sit outside. Write it down or note it in your head. And give thanks. On our first day and our last day, we are all the same. Godspeed.
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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. ❤️
Before deciding if you love me or hate me, let's look at each of these in a little more detail. If you are reading this and you don't work in healthcare, I encourage you to close your eyes. Imagine driving to work where patients are very sick and you are responsible for their health. Imagine being extremely exhausted - mentally, physically, and emotionally. Imagine having the same conversations day in and day out. Imagine wearing a mask and face shield all day every day AND if you work in certain healthcare settings, full plastic gowns (sweaty and HOT) with even more restrictive masks (n95). Think about having heart-wrenching conversations about death and dying with families and patients that you have come to love over many years. Consider praying on your drive in and your drive home because you've worked in healthcare since you were 19 years old, but you've never seen anything as dark and dangerous, cold and pointless, savage and destructive as THIS. Imagine that you, like everyone else, have also been unable to see loved ones, travel, send your kids to school without a mask, and that you- like everyone else- have your own political and religious beliefs but you cannot mention those since ALL eyes and ears are on you. Now imagine doing that every single day for 20 months in a row.
I usually wrap up my posts with some heart-swelling, tear-jerking, or funny concluding thoughts. I try to connect us as humans, mothers, fathers, daughters, sons, sisters, brothers, neighbors, and friends. I find a way to touch you, soften you, move you even if it’s only for a moment. I don’t know how to do that with this post. I’m tired. I’m sad. I’m frustrated. I’m still hopeful. I still believe. I guess I will end by asking all of us to consider the division we have all felt over the past 2 years. Consider the lost lives and energy we have all spent to prove we are right. And hug your family. Hug your loved ones. And look your “enemy” in the eye before you judge their choices. We really are all the same. Imperfect. Scared. And trying to stay alive. 🌎 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.
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