Resolutions - Again?

That's what Scott said this morning as we were walking. I asked him what his resolutions were going to be for this upcoming year. "Again?" He asked. "We have to have this conversation every year, and I tell you, my resolutions are the same. Read the Big Book, read the Book of Mormon, be a good husband, serve. What more do you want?"

And I couldn't think of anything more. Except - Be more romantic. Be engaged in conversations. Chew with your mouth closed. Talk without food in your mouth. Eat slower. Don't snore. Lose weight.

And dang it, for a moment I was nagging (in my mind, but still, that's not fair).

This year I've:
Learned waiting is part of my job.
Some things just don't matter. Being right can often mean not wanting to "told you so." Pick your battles.
Students are good good people who are carrying pretty big loads - love them.
Nice is good; really good. Pleasant is good; really good.
Some fires don't need to be put out by me.
10,000 steps is simple when I'm walking through the hospital being nice and pleasant, and this is part of my job.
Losing weight is doable, and so is getting out of debt.
Goals are attainable; even if it takes 10 years. "Eyes to the Prize" at all times.
Spending time with children on their turf is a blast, and I get to come home to a clean quiet home.


So this year, MY resolutions are:

Keep with the above.
Keep weight off.
Be present. (I'm loving this practice, want to get better.)
Be kind.
Drink more water.
Accept other's suggestions (even if I think mine are better).
Don't nag . . . my mother.
Make a quilt.
Read 2 religious texts.
Let go of the things I cannot change - don't buy in to the little/inconsequential conformity things.
Get that 60th birthday tattoo.
Travel to the East Coast (will be in Scotland in May).

Blondie, December 30, 2014

Goldfish and Reaching Out - You're Not Alone -

There seems to be a preponderance of "not being up to snuff" in the world right now. I certainly see it among my children, friends, students, patients. There is so much comparing going on - everything from shape to size, successes to near-misses, pain and suffering to health and happiness, length of stay to should I stay. And we compare ourselves in curlers to someone else walking out of the hairdresser's ready for our glamour shot.

I am sad. I will admit I have been competitive, comparing myself to others, and falling short. And then holding on to these inadequacies as if they were a prize, or a crutch, for being inadequate - for giving up.

Even this morning, as my sweet husband shared a 3rd love note for the week, I told him I didn't measure up. And no matter how many times he has told me I'm beautiful, smart, kind, gentle, I have a hard time believing him. Yet - this morning I also told him I'm beginning to believe in his words, and because I believe him, and I know he would never lie to me, I can hold on to his generosity and begin to assimilate these gifts and integrate them into my life. Because, after all, even at my age, the words of my youth still weigh heavily on my self-esteem (not my parents, mind you, but peers).

So - back to the gold fish. The last day of school at UVU for Fall 2018, was a tough day for me. I had a parent of a student share that her son had reached out for help because his depression and anxiety and desire to be perfect was just too much. And I spent time with a family member of a patient who attempted to end her life, and her sweet family had to finalize that decision. These 2 events, in face of 4 student papers about anxiety, stress, time-management, being overwhelmed, gave me a nudge that something needed to be said to my students about how much they are loved and that they're not alone, and there is a bright future for them, a bright today, even in the midst of unsurity and trauma and identity.

Should I buy M&M's - they are unique but not alone, Popcorn - it takes more than one kernel to make a great bag of popcorn? And then I saw Goldfish crackers - in individual packs.

I took my argument to class that day - asking my students if they had ever felt like they were the only fish in the sea, if they felt they were swimming one direction while others were swimming another, if they felt different from the other fish in their school. And of course, many hands were raised, many heads nodded.

And then I handed out the packs of crackers, and told them they were not alone. And even when they felt alone there were other fish waiting to join them, wanting them in their school, ready to support them and swim together.

Lastly, I wrote my personal cell phone number on the board, telling my students that I was available to them all the time, and that when they felt alone, stressed, depressed, anxious, they could call me.

And there were tears in the class, and there was love in the class, and those students understood and knew I meant what I had said.

Later, I received emails from 2 students thanking me for going out on a limb for them, for caring, and saying they would keep my number.

Hopefully the next time a student sees, or eats, a goldfish cracker they will remember they're not alone.

Merry Christmas From My Home to Yours -

Baby It's Cold Outside - Presentism -

"Some" of us are critical thinkers, and "Most" of us are reactionary thinkers. This seems applicable this time of year with Christmas music. I can't think of a better song than, "Baby it's Cold Outside," to apply the practice of presentism - imprinting today's ideas and perspectives as we interpret the past. And honestly, I've had enough of this.

So, before I blow an ovary or two, and I will preface this with the statement that I am a feminist; I believe in my voice, and I believe in being respected. As well, I believe one of the worst things we arm-chair critics can do is try to critique a historical event through today's lens.

Hence an amazing analysis of "Baby it's Cold Outside," through the lens of the 1940s when this tune was written. I do think we need to get over ourselves; #metoo is so relevant, and date rape and non-consensual activities abound; I live in an extremely strong patriarchal society - I understand being pushed around and persuaded into doing things I don't want to do; I get the angst of folks who do not like the song and point toward banning it. Yet, come on - let's be critical thinkers. 

And in the meantime, pray tell - isn't "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus" about marital affairs and childhood trauma? Talk about PTSD! And "Mary Did  You Know" is embarrassing - seriously - some musician has to tell Mary what she is taking on - presentism? Condescending? Perhaps there should be a "New Mother Did You Know" tune to make this song a year long tune for new mothers. I'd be beating down doors to ban that!

Here's my tune for the year -

Humanity -

Seriously - 

Internal Struggles -

Gosh I hate going through my bi-annual "Who am I," "What do I believe in," "Am I being my best self," "How do I stay real," internal argument. This one's lasted longer than most years, and I think it was intensified by a med combo that really messed with my peace of mind. And while I'll blame the nudge to Gabapentin and horrible nerve pain, my internal struggle never ends.

And this year it's been a little more burdensome; I'll be 60 in 2 months, and I really really should be more settled than I was 10, 20, 30, 45 years ago - and I'm not. The things in my religion and my culture that bothered me then bother me now - and it shouldn't be that way! I've even looked through my journals and notes over the years, and I'm still trying to make sense of real and true and authentic and honest and right and fence-sitting and standing for something and my long-lying question, "Should I stay or should I go?" Gabapentin did nothing to pacify me (nor my neck, shoulder, elbow, wrist, hand, fingers).

So this time around I have applied my mindfulness techniques, particularly that of being still and staying in the moment - absorbing those emotions - fear, guilt, failure, doubt, defiance, faith, hope, and using these as my guide, rather than me being the lead.

I've been amazed, to the point of teary more than once, and humbled to the point of shaking my head in gratitude for being allowed by the worlds around me to receive.

For instance - just when I needed confirmation I was living authentically I had a patient call for an appointment. And when a small portion of their story was shared, I heard my own story, and I knew I could help.

A patient, whom I care for deeply, and whom I was prompted to call all last week, arrived at the hospital this week in terrible shape, and I've been able to meet her husband, be with her husband, hear his story, and stay present.

I was overwhelmed with too many to-do's, and an order was wrong, and my to-do list made smaller.

A beyond beautiful sunset last night, and I had a crossing-in-the-parking-lot encounter with a young man who looked up and west at the same time I did, and we shared a very intimate moment - full of gratitude.

I was supposed to be out of town on business beginning today, and the way was muddy, and I don't operate well in muddy. So I changed those plans, and the sky cleared.

I prayed for peace, and I was given it. I asked for guidance, and I was guided. I sought help in my helping and was directed. I chose not to micro-manage, and the consequences were stunning. I changed directions and was shown the way. I looked for beauty in my day, and it was in my face.

My struggles are real; not any more real or ginormous than anyone else's; yet when I choose to be still and listen, I find peace.

Detangling My Mind -

I keep forgetting to remember this -

Woman lay all your shit down.
Stop processing it, justifying it,
analyzing it, carrying it, and explaining it.
You're tired. You are beautiful.
Lay it down.

Christine Lumley 

(FB page: Goddess in the Closet)