In Praise of "Good Enough" -

"Calm down," my husband hollers at me when I'm just a little stressed or over-stretched. 

"Ronda, stop! That's 'good enough,' you don't need to do more," can be quite the challenge when I want to spend a little more time. 

"Take it easy," I hear when I'm pushing toward a self-imposed deadline. 

"Don't forget to take time for yourself," the phrase shared at work, daily. 

"Make time to rest this weekend," is often the final statement in my Friday work email collection. 

"Go to bed early," is a kind challenge, again. 

While these directions are meant to be kind and thoughtful, rather, they are riddled with patronizing, "mansplaining" words that are easy to offer, difficult to act on. 

I'm already giving these directives to myself, and hearing them from someone who seems to know me better than I do, is disheartening, and depending on the day, quite frustrating. 

This is what I've learned about myself in the few weeks of 2022 - 

"Good enough" is my New Year's Resolution. I have no desire to do anything more than necessary; "easy does it," "the path of least resistance," and "take it easy," are places I need to be for my own sanity this year. I am goal-driven, project-pushed, yet I have no desire, or energy, to do any more than I can do, today, tomorrow. "No pressure" is all the pressure I want to put on myself.

I know how and when to calm down, and I'm doing the best I can to monitor my level of anxiety; hopefully this keeps the "calm" in and "calm down" out. 

In order to "take it easy" I need to give myself permission to say no, set boundaries, go to bed and read, watch a movie, and simplify wherever I can. 

Time for myself includes a longer shower, leaving work at exactly the 8 hour mark, and being more methodical, rather than frantic, in my actions and thoughts. Time also includes silky pj's at 6pm, "clean the fridge" dinners, and gentle yoga for exercise. 

Gonna be tough, yet I can do hard/easy things! And that's good enough. 

For The One Who Is Exhausted

You have been forced to enter empty time.
The desire that drove you has relinquished.
There is nothing else to do now but rest
And patiently learn to receive the self
You have forsaken in the race of days.

…

You have traveled too fast over false ground;
Now your soul has come to take you back.

… 

Draw alongside the silence of stone
Until its calmness can claim you.
Be excessively gentle with yourself.

…

Gradually, you will return to yourself,
Having learned a new respect for your heart
And the joy that dwells far within slow time.

John O’Donohue

 

Space Shuttle Challenger Explosion -

Thirty-six years ago the Space Shuttle Challenger exploded. I was living in Brigham City, with my husband and two children. My husband worked for Thiokol, working on the o-rings for the space shuttle. 

That morning, after getting Tyler off to school, and Jenna down for her morning nap, I crumpled down in my bed, sick with a sinus infection, thinking I would rest while Jenna napped. 

And with the TV on to see the Challenger lift-off, with a school teacher on board, the world was able to see the disaster that was quickly judged to be Thiokol's fault. 

There were Thiokol dignitaries in Florida for this event and NASA dignitaries in Utah for this event; as were media folks from all over the nation and beyond. And oh boy, what a toxic mess this turned out to be. 

Within moments, our entire town was overrun with news vans and cameras and reporters interviewing any person on the street. 

And thank God there wasn't social media in those days. Because half truths were told, assumptions were made, and fingers were pointed before any authority could speak. Oh gosh, what a frenzy that would be today! 

In our neighborhood in Brigham City there were many folks (mostly men) who worked at Thiokol. In fact I think Brigham City survived as well as it did because of Thiokol's employee base, its proximity to Thiokol (40 minute drive, typically car-pools), and the decent salaries of those employed, with a great cost of living in the area. 

Many of the employees came home from work early that day, and an eerie silence settled on the town. The celebratory energy that had surrounded the town dissipated to dust. My husband came home in a shock. There were so many words to say and nothing to share. 

Several men who lost their jobs because of this disaster, and they became the scape goats for all things Challenger-related. 

One of the over-looked tragedies of this was that of grieving families who were were stunned by the event, floored by the horrible press Thiokol, and in turn the employees and families, were given, and absolutely no help processing what this meant to their future, their employment. 

And a year later, because of these events, layoffs, contracts re-routed, and changes to the Space Shuttle plan, our little family moved to Northwestern Alabama, where my husband took a job with Thiokol in Northeastern Mississippi, to work on the redesign of the Space Shuttle and its engines. 

You know, there's so much more to a story than what is presented in the news, online or otherwise. We jump to conclusions so fast when there is an event that is public and publicized. And even though there were so many naysayers at Thiokol and in Florida at the Kennedy Space Center, the "show" had to go on. And the story will never be complete. 

We had two neighbors who were "convicted" without a jury and blamed and shamed for this event. We have a deep love and respect for Allan (Al) McDonald, who gave his life telling the truth.

This was such a disaster, and yet it wasn't only Thiokol's fault - yes, the o-rings were faulty, and many people were opposed, and many people were pressured to giving their "go-ahead." And many hearts ache, still, after 36 years, because of errors. Mine is one. 

David Archuleta and Being True to Self -

So many times throughout my life I've been shamed for decisions I made. 

Shamed for being too much or not enough. 

Shamed for dressing to "together," shamed for not putting on my company outfit. 

Shamed for not getting an education before having children, shamed for getting an education while having children at home. 

Shamed for working outside of my home, shamed for not contributing to the family income. 

Shamed for having "only" two children, shamed for over-populating. 

Shamed for staying too long in a marriage, shamed for leaving a long marriage. 

Shamed for remarrying so soon, shamed for remarrying at all. 

Shamed for speaking my truth, shamed for being too bold. 

Shamed for being too assertive, shamed for not standing up for myself. 

And still, today, I think before I act. I think "Is this worth the risk," before doing nearly anything that may be misunderstood or misinterpreted, or that I'll have to explain. 

And yet here's 30 year old David Archuleta, sharing his deepest thoughts, in a way that can create his future, or can destroy so much of what he holds dear. And he shares. Without shame. 

The BEST 50 minutes I have spent on a Sunday in many many years. Please listen. Mormon or not, his  vulnerability is powerful, poignant, poetic, and gut-wrenching. And I'm sad that he feels as though he needs to explain himself. And grateful he does. 

Oh to be so brave - 

                                                                David Archuleta Shares -                             

                                            

Dying in the Days of CoVid -

Over the past 3 weeks I have witnessed more than 12 hospital deaths - being a member of a team who talks with the dying person and their loved ones about their Goals of Care, sharing with these folks that their prognosis is not "good" (even though they typically know), and then, in many instances, being with the families as their loved one dies. (Mind you, this does not include the patients I have seen in our clinic who have recently died - probably 8.)

As a family comes to the realization that death is imminent, a multi-colored butterfly is placed on the outside of the room's door, the observation blinds are closed. Privacy is granted. 

I am fascinated by the ways loved ones react and act to the news and the dying process - who they want notified, or not. Death bed reconciliation is real, as is death bed arguing and fighting and bickering and taking sides. Regardless, grips loosen, and death becomes, ready, or not. Lights are dimmed, or not. Blinds are opened, or not. Some in the room sob uncontrollably, others surround the bed, telling stories, singing songs, laughing. Some stand as far away from the bed as possible, with hands in pockets and heads bowed. Some mourn angrily, bitterly, regretfully. Others walk out of the room, choosing not to be near the room. Some families want every relative and friend in the room with them, while others don't want anyone to be there, or they want to be alone with their husband/wife. Loved ones rotate through the rooms and the waiting area, taking their turns saying good-bye while also holding vigil.

And who?

Three young men, under 40, of CoVid complications. Two elderly women of CoVid, one fully alert one day, dying the next. One woman, just a wee-bit older than me, unexpectedly, and her husband made it to the hospital just in time to be stunned by the news, not even able to tell their children. One woman had been hospitalized for weeks, alone, with visitors having ceased nearly 4 weeks before she passed. Another died just days after his wife died. Another died, with her daughter by her bedside, and this daughter having now lost both parents, an uncle and a brother within 2 months. One woman had been sick since just before Christmas, with only one son in the States, who had recently recovered from hospitalization. He had the role of calling his siblings and holding the phone to his heavily sedated mother's ear as they all said their good-byes. 

For the most part, the dying are comfortable and those remaining are truly the ones in pain. 

I am often asked to pray, often for the dying, occasionally for the ones left behind; find someone to give a Priesthood blessing, hold the loved one's hand while they die, be a comforting presence, validate their choices and decisions. 

I try to slip out of the hospital room as the patient takes their last breath, and then slip back in to hold, hug, stand silently near, all the time holding the happenings sacredly. 

After? It's tough to talk with family about what happens after their loved one has died, while they're in the midst of being present with their family member/friend. And yet questions abound - what's next? Where do they go? How do I pick a mortuary? Can Mormons cremate? I can't afford a burial. Where is the least expensive place to go? I want to honor, and we will spare no expense. Can I dress them? Do I get CoVid funeral assistance? Can I go now? How long can I stay here? 

I don't ask if the person was vaccinated, I don't really care. My role is to carry no judgment, even for the family who were prominent on social media as anti-vaccine, who brought their loved one to the hospital too late, and were angry with healthcare providers for not "doing all they could" to save them, and "what are we going to tell our friends." Even with healthcare providers barely alive themselves some days, and some days stepping away to shudder, sob, swear, and then returning to give their very best. 

And while not all of the deaths I've witnessed have been CoVid deaths, all deaths these days are affected by CoVid, and all the loved ones remaining have been witness to the protocols CoVid has demanded of us all. 

And my summary - my role, really, when it's all said and done, is incidental. I don't administer medications, monitor oxygen levels, deliver feedings, change sheets. And yet, as I stand quietly behind that invisible curtain, always available, always out of the way - I like to think that I am the defender of their story, the one who is present, who sees the entire story unfold, and validates - the dead, the living, the caregivers, real events, not statistics. 

As soon as I am able, I walk outside, tear off my facemask, turn east to the mountains, taking deep breaths of the frigid air - filling my lungs with real.

When my day is finished, I arrive home, my drive home not long enough to let the emotions of the day wash away, eat, attempt to sleep, get up, and do it all over again. And yet tonight - with the remains of the day still weighing heavily, I turn to pen and paper, and purge, praying for sleep, for myself and those I hold in reverence. 

 

Looking Back while Looking Ahead -

2021: 

Scott had eye surgery the first week of January. Good news is we met our yearly deductible quickly! 

Which was good because the first of March Scott, thinking he was sitting back on a tree limb to rest, after pruning our daughter's orchard, fell to the ground, because there wasn't a limb, dislocating his right shoulder and tearing the tendons in that shoulder. After a trip to the ED, surgery was scheduled for two weeks later. 

By mid-March Scott was in a sling with the directive to not move his arm. Ha! 

At this same time a new work colleague decided it was his role to look for the bad in everyone on his team, which he did, and I was "written up." This included the bizarre, "I just want to come to meet you and have a short conversation." Which turned into a 90 minute bullying session with 99% of every bit of "evidence" taken out of context. There were 2 people delivering this news to me, while I had no one, and I have to say, this is probably the most hurtful 90 minutes of my life. To be wrongly accused, to be told what I wasn't - with no evidence to show who I am, only one person's inability to talk with me face-to-face rather than call in the army to beat me up. 

And, if there's still a tone of anger in my writing, and a lessening of blog posts for this year, it's because it has taken me nearly the rest of the year to find some peace with myself, confidence with my skills, and finding a place with this youngster colleague who thought he knew best. 

I did decide to address his issues with me, with him, delivering a cactus and a card stating, "I apologize for any times you have felt disrespected or under-mined by me. This has never been my intention. Please feel free to talk with me - I have so much to learn, and I am always willing to grow." We've developed a tolerable working relationship, and my keys to being able to do this are 3 things: 

1. Our Weaver Family 2021 motto - Seek to understand before being understood. Where was he coming from? His motives? His strengths? His weaknesses? 

2. What is my role in all of this? Certainly there were wrong-doings on my part. Can I learn from these? 

3. Sometimes we have to shut up and put up - with ourselves, with others, with no answers, only sitting with ourselves and the information we have, and putting that information where it can best serve us - head, heart, soul, trash can. 

And on that note - 

A dear friend gave us her condo in Hilton Head Island, and Scott and I spent several days on the beach, exploring the seaside towns, and visiting Savannah GA, longtime on my bucket list. 

During the early spring, just prior to Scott's fall we decided to re-landscape our yard, bringing it up to the standards we would need as we grew old in this home. The designs came in just as he took his fall. This became my project, which I'm forever grateful for. Great stress-reducer, something to look forward to after work, and I really love gardening, yet our yard has been quite a hodge-podge for several years, and this change has been for our greater-good! Many thanks to nieces, grandchildren, children, and a few friends for their help. 

So our summer was spent loving our yard - continuing to care for it and watching it evolve. 

Toward the end of June the Walker siblings determined that Mom needed to be in a place where she could get 24 hour care. She is now living at a Beehive Home in Provo - and finding this perfect place was nothing less than miraculous. She is as happy there as she can be any place, and the siblings know she is safe and cared for. She continues to decline - her dementia is worse, her physical abilities are lessening. Dang. 

Mid-August Scott and I headed to Sweden and Denmark for 2 weeks. And even with masks and vaccinations and lengthy flights, those 2 weeks were heavenly. Spectacular. And seeing the areas of my heritage were life-affirming. 

We came home just in time for the Swedish and Danish borders to close to Americans! 

And Scott had shoulder replacement surgery on Sept. 19th. 

As he began his re-recovery, chaos began to reign at work. Within a short time we added 3 new social workers, a new nurse, and more managerial mandates (vague ones at that). As well, discontent was so thick that one person quit, others refused to work with others, one gave birth to a gorgeous baby girl and took maternity leave, and office changes had to be made just to get some peace and some work done. And these are professionals! 

Yet, it's not just caregivers at hospitals who are feeling the emotional disease of CoVid and other dividers (I have personally attended to the dying and their families, witnessing more than a dozen deaths). My own practice has doubled in size, without soliciting, and women of all ages are feeling negative energy and crisis in their lives. I am grateful for the opportunity I have of caring for them. 

However, this stress can be been debilitating, and coming home to peace has been my top priority. Yet with Scott's nearly continual pain and his isolation from all that he loves, our tempers have flared, and we are constantly learning how to be patient and tender with ourselves and each other. 

We've had family members, vaccinated and un, who have had CoVid, and watching them hurt, while keeping ourselves healthy has been tough; we have remained relatively healthy, and they are healing. And I am damn tired of the harm, rather than healing, that has taken place because of this CoVid discontent.

Walking out of the stressors that have been soul-draining, I decided I needed a new tattoo - a bright orange sun on the inside of my right wrist. I WILL NOT allow anyone to take my sunshine away anymore. I will be the light - first for myself. 

Scott is healing; kids are healthy; holidays not so filled with family and parties; work still tumultuous. 

And to end the year, one of my very best friends, a physician whom I've worked with daily for 7 1/2 years, who has taught me so much about medicine and life, left our team yesterday. Not the best way to end the year. And his journey to his leaving - well, read my story above and amplify it. Yet the lessons I've been taught this year, and have chosen to learn, are that with good-byes there are hello's; friendships change, yet remain; learning is a life-long process; and life goes on. Self-reflection has been my top priority, and with that, I have peace (most of the time). But gosh darn it, I'm gonna miss him. 

I'm grateful for the limited stability I've had this year - a great job (even with CoVid and conflicts), a beautiful home and yard, 5-HTP that has been a huge blessing in my life - giving me energy, clarity, and calm; great therapy, and the ability to create - whether that's cooking, baking, sewing, gardening, visiting. 

I hunger to read - finding good novels is tough, and I'm tired of self-help and spirituality books; I hunger for friendships - yet creating new friendships and renewing others takes more energy than I have some days. I hunger for Peace on Earth, and I want it to begin with me, my loved ones, my space.

So here's a nod of respect and namaste to 2021, and a flicker of hope and optimism to 2022. 

Let Us Oft Speak Kind Words -

Too much going on, and I honestly have trouble just staying focused on what is right in front of me. And yet without having learned how to stay in the moment, look for the good, and seek to understand, I'm afraid I'd be a nervous wreck right now. 

My salvation - knowing "this too shall pass," and "what the mind expects tends to be realized," and "what goes around comes around," "worrying robs us of our todays and tomorrows," and "that which we persist in doing becomes easier to do, not because the nature of the thing has changed, but because our ability to do has increased." 

See - all those times I've taught patients to stay in the moment, pull the mind in to the present, focus on what you can do, not what you can't; and that we can control our minds, not letting our minds control us, and seeking respite in the storm, have had their impact on me. Those phrases above? They are no longer just sounds, but actual content, and for me, beliefs that truly ground me when the storm is swirling around. 

And I'll say, there's been a shit-storm swirling for about 18 months, and although CoVid has played a mighty roll in this storm, there's a lot of other elements that have also impacted the weather in my life. 

I can picture my Grandmother Jensen singing the LDS Hymn, "Let Us Oft Speak Kind Words to Each Other," whenever there was contention in the air. And I can hear my Grandfather Jensen laughingly singing "In a world where sorrow often can be found . . . scatter sunshine everywhere you go," as he shoveled shit from one part of the cattle yard to the other. They found joy in the storm! And this year, I'm understanding the profound lessons they, and others, continue to teach me. 

I cannot calm the storm, but I can calm my racing heart, my anxiety (typically displayed as raw lips from picking at them), my furrowed brows, my fears (IBS), my shoulders that carry all that and more. And, although I often write about beliefs, I seldom proclaim my own theological ones. Yet today, I must give credit to the One who I reach out to more often than others. There is truly something empowering about being able to "Let go and let God," and believe, and practice, and then witness. 

The storm is far from clearing. However, I'm learning, more and more, that I can "sleep when the wind blows." And, how to do it. 

Speak kind words to yourself, my friends; it begins with you, then radiates out - "Kind words are sweet tones, of, the heart." 

Richard Rohr - A Joyful Mind -

 I subscribe to Franciscan priest's, Richard Rohr, Daily Meditation (written). I seldom read his entire post, yet the titles and the initial thought often are the intention that I need to carry me through my day. 

For instance: 

Confidence does not arise from our ego or efforts, but from the goodness of God. 

There is an absolute connection between how we see God and how we see ourselves and the universe. 

The purpose of prayer and religious seeing is to see the truth about Reality, to see what is. And at the bottom of what is is always goodness. The foundation is always love. 

Until I discover the God in which I believe, I will never understand another thing about my own life. If my God is a harsh judge, I will live in unquenchable guilt. if my God is Holy Nothingness, I will live a life of cosmic loneliness. If my God is taunt and bully, I will live my life impaled on the pin of a grinning giant. If my God is life and hope, I will live in fullness overflowing forever. 

This - 

If Jesus is representative of the total givenness of God to creation, the perhaps Mary is the representative of humanity, showing us how the gift is received. And I believe that is why we love Mary. She's a stand in for all of us. When we can say, like her, "Let it be," then we're truly ready for Christmas.  

Rohr's thoughts give me pause as well as give me something to think through as I work with patients. I often wonder how they perceive goodness, love, life, hope, and I will ask, and listen, and receive their offerings.  

This month, the month of love, grace, goodness, peace, hope, did not begin in this direction. Turmoil at work, all the ADHD'ness conversations, on top of my day-to-day stressors, have pitted against me. Yet a week ago, in a moment of quiet contemplation (typically happening in a warm car, pulled to the side of the road, prior to entering my home, after work), gave me the answer - "Things will be just fine. Trust the process. Stay present." And I have, and I will. And Rohr once again came through with this reminder. And while there's so much here, I'm choosing to pick a phrase a day, and ponder: 

What might a joyful mind be?

"When your mind does not need to be right.

"When you no longer need to compare yourself with others.

"When you no longer need to compete — not even in your own head.

"When your mind can be creative, but without needing anyone to know.

"When you can live in contentment with whatever the moment offers.

"When you do not need to analyze or judge things in or out, positive or negative.

"When your mind does not need to be in charge, but can serve the moment with gracious and affirming information.

"When your mind follows the intelligent lead of your heart.

"When your mind is curious and interested, not suspicious and interrogating.

"When your mind does not 'brood over injuries.'

"When you do not need to humiliate, critique, or defeat those who have hurt you — not even in your mind.

"When your mind does not need to create self-justifying story lines.

"When your mind does not need the future to be better than today.

"When your mind can let go of obsessive or negative thoughts.

"When your mind can think well of itself, but without needing to.

"When your mind can accept yourself as you are, warts and all.

"When your mind can surrender to what is.

"When your mind does not divide and always condemn one side or group.

"When your mind can find truth on both sides.

"When your mind fills in the gaps with 'the benefit of the doubt' for both friend and enemy.

"When your mind can critique and also detach from the critique.

"When your mind can wait, listen, and learn.

"When your mind can live satisfied without resolution or closure.

"When your mind can forgive and actually 'forget.'

"When your mind can admit it was wrong and change.

"When your mind can stop judging and critiquing itself.

"When you don't need to complain or worry to get motivated.

"When you can observe your mind contracting into self-preservation or self-validation, and then laugh or weep over it.

"When you can actually love with your mind.

"When your mind can find God in all things."