A great Christmas morning

May you have peace… or whatever else you need today

… to you and yours. I’m off to a good start, all things considered. The turkey is in the oven baking, and I’m listening to my cassette tapes of Handel’s “Messiah”. I woke up feeling really sick and not feeling up to doing the turkey, but my spouse is sick and I’ve done this before, so I hauled the turkey out of the refrigerator, to find that it was not in fact thawed — probably due to my having bought it only yesterday and not having soaked it very long in that sink full of cold water as my mother used to do. The neck and the giblets were still firmly frozen inside the cavity, so I ran hot water through the works, trying to loosen it up.

No such luck. And me feeling not very well at all… Ah well, soldier on… I finally just put the bird in the oven and set the timer, resolving to check it in an hour when the whole business had time to warm up. I made myself some hot lemon-honey “tea”, had my coffee and cereal, and did the math in my head for when I should start doing other things like start prepping the stuffing and vegetables I was going to roast.

I also did some of my leg exercises, since my knees have been giving me trouble, lately. Even though I have been going for long walks and have been pretty active over the past few days, my knees have been hurting — which happens if I haven’t done my morning leg lifts, which I haven’t been doing regularly for some time. Amazingly, when I do my leg lifts — straight-out front and back and to each side, and then front kicks and back-lifts — my knees get what they need and they quit complaining.

So, I did that, and my knees immediately stopped hurting. Nice when that happens. And important to remember, so I don’t let myself just go to seed for no good reason.

By the time I was done with my morning prep, about 45 minutes had passed, so I hauled out the bird, worked at the neck and bag of organ meats, and eventually got it all out. Salted the inside of the cavity and flipped it over and put it back in the oven, breast-down, because I did that by accident a number of years ago, and the breast meat was by far the most moist and tasty that I’ve ever tasted. I’ve heard people recommending that, also, no matter what the wrapper on the turkey says. The meat felt a bit more thawed, having been in the heat for a while. I may have to roast it a bit longer to make up for that… we’ll see. Anyway, I’m hoping I didn’t screw everything up — at least I’m not deep-frying it. When you deep-fry a frozen turkey, it has a nasty habit of exploding and catching the roof of your garage on fire. I’ve talked to folks at work about deep-frying turkeys, and they’re practically rabid about it. But it seems to me they’re more excited about the gear and the inherent danger, than cooking technique. For me, I’m old-school. It’s less dramatic, sure, but I’m not going to have to call the fire department on Christmas Day, this way.

And the breast meat will be just as tasty as tasty can be.

So, once I got the bird squared away, I felt a lot better about things. I’m still feeling sick and “off”, and I’m not sure I 100% trust my judgement (which has been a bit off, with regard to time and things I need to do in a certain order), but I’m rolling with it, and I’m just going to enjoy myself this morning.

One of the things I had been meaning to do, but kept forgetting, is pull out my old cassette tapes of Handel’s Messiah that I got for Christmas while I was in college. My parents used to celebrate the Christmas season by playing their Mormon Tabernacle Choir “Messiah” record, and it was one of my favorite parts of the season. The “Little Drummer Boy” upset me intensely, for some reason, but Handel’s “Messiah” really put me in the Christmas spirit. Each and every time.

When I got the cassettes for Christmas, it was like — well, Christmas. I had my own copy that I could listen to! Amazing. Joy unbounded. It wasn’t a big thing, and thinking back now — when we are all swimming in so much plenty and bounty and easy access to each and every thing we could ever want or ask for — it seems so small-time, so modest. But it was seriously one of the best Christmas presents I’ve ever received. I used to listen to those cassettes repeatedly during Christmastime while I was in school. It drove the folks on my hall nuts; they would pretty much vacate and leave me to my music, then reappear when it was safe to just hang out and drink beer again. They didn’t get it, and I didn’t care. The voices of the choir were transcendent, and it reminded me of what was actually right about my childhood — those relatively brief periods of transcendent emotion and beauty… Yes, there was something right in my world, and with those cassettes I could relive that and remember, for as long as I played them.

Well, this morning I’m playing them, and it’s pretty clear to me why the world has moved on to MP3s and digital formats — the cassettes are easily over 30 years old — copyright 1979 — and the tape has stretched and warped with age. The voices are warbling and at times halting. It’s not the smooth and easily transcendent presentation it once was. And there’s the constant worry that the tape will get wrapped around the spools and end up getting “eaten” by the tape player, the way so many cassettes did when I was much younger — and the world still had cassettes… and cassette players in all the stereos and cars coming off the assembly line.

Yeah, I must be getting old, it occurs to me, as I resolve to just not care about the sound quality, and I can appreciate the experience for what it is, rather than how I think it should be. I know what to ask for, for Christmas next year — a CD of Handel’s “Messiah” that I can listen to without the warbling and hesitating and angst over the tape getting eaten.

At the same time, though, there’s something quite poignant about this experience. It has a kind of character to it that places me in time — the natural order of things is to change and alter and become something different. Sometimes the changes mean degradation, dissolution, disintegration. Sometimes they mean entropy. And sometimes it means improvement, growth, evolution. But even the degrading, dissolving, disintegration are all part of a larger cycle, a larger set of movements into the future… nothing stays the same forever, nor should it. It’s just a little creepy, when it does. At least, I think so.

Things change. Cassettes wear out. And each year when my spouse and I put up the Christmas tree and hang the ornaments, we have a little harder time remembering where each one came from. We’ve been together for over 20 years, and each of us brought to the marriage items from our separate pasts. Did that ornament come from Before Us? Or did we buy it together early on? And where the hell are all those lights and ornaments that we both know we had three years before, but haven’t been able to locate for the past couple of Christmases? We’ve started taking turns looking for items in the basement — I go down first and bring back everything I can find, then they go down and find everything I was blind to. Between the two of us, we’ve managed to piece things together — even if we got a late start this year and didn’t even put up and trim the tree till Christmas Eve.

At least we got it done. And lots of people do it that way, too. My relatives in Europe, for example. The don’t even start thinking about decorating till Christmas Eve. So, I comfort myself with that thought and decide not to get worked up over it. There are other battles to fight, other things to correct — timing of tree trimming isn’t one I want to worry about.

And Handel’s “Messiah” warbles on. I’m almost at the end of Side Two of Cassette One. I’m not sure if I’m going to finish the music before I wake up my spouse and we go downstairs to have our morning coffee and open presents. As long as I get in the Hallelujah Chorus (and stand up while it’s playing), I’m good. My spouse is not a big fan of “Messiah” — too maudlin, they say. Well, it’s not for everyone… especially those who don’t care about hearing how “by His stripes we are healed”, which is what they’re singing right now.

There is something to be said for focusing on life, rather than suffering and death, but it all seems to get mixed together on Christmas morning, which in some parts of the world is really just a prelude to the Passion and Easter and the reminders of suffering and death that precede resurrection.

Not to get off on a theological thread… even though I am listening to “Messiah”… anyway, I’ve been thinking about how we’ve pretty much trashed the whole Christmas experience, over the past 30 years of wild, abandoned consumption… and now that the unbridled buy-buy-buy has been so scaled back for so many of us (at least, it has for me), Christmas just isn’t the same as it used to be. When I was a kid, it was a strictly religious experience, and since my family really didn’t have much to begin with, and the focus was extremely Christian and tradition, the whole gift-giving thing was not that big of a deal. If anything, gift-giving was awkward and sometimes painful, because of all the conflicts between what we kids wanted and what our parents were willing (and able) to give us, and the “outside world” commercialism competing with the “reason for the season”… the whole deal.

It was never easy to begin with. But in the past few years, it’s gotten even more challenging, as money has been such a problem with so many of us in my family… and we’ve had a harder and harder time just getting together, period. Somehow, the season just doesn’t seem the same as it once did. Maybe it’s because of my job, which keeps me out of my present by forcing me to be constantly planning the future and thinking about everything I do in terms of how it affects things 6-12 months down the line… Maybe it’s my conscious choice to refuse to participate in the wild consumption of the season, that’s changed things.

Whatever the reason, Christmas seems totally trashed in mainstream society — I’m not saying anything that hasn’t been said by many, many people over the course of many, many years. It’s gone from being a season of giving to being a cornerstone of the American economy, so it’s almost like we’re obligated to spend and spend and spend (I had a good laugh at Best Buy yesterday, as I looked at headphones — headphones!!! – that cost over $200 — oh.my.god — someone must surely be kidding…) And people who build their holiday season around buying and giving those kinds of gifts (many members of my family included), seem, well, kind of sad to me. Like there’s nothing more to it all for them.

But as long as they go to church on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, their holidays are complete.

Not so much for me. First, I don’t have the money to spend like some of my relatives. Second, going to church on Christmas Eve isn’t something I do anymore. I realized a few years back that it is in fact pretty hazardous, because so many people with colds and flu (and their kids) turn out and occupy the same space for a few hours — just long enough to share their infections with me, which has proven truly terrible in the past. My holidays are different. My Christmas is different. I don’t celebrate the way others do, but I do want to celebrate — I really do.

So, here’s what I did this year: I went about my everyday life with a real sense of gratitude and peace. Not sure where it all came from, but I decided I was going to do that, no matter what. I gave when and where I could — I did my best to be helpful to people around me without over-extending myself. I also bought extra groceries every time I went shopping, and I put them in the food pantry bin at the grocery store. It wasn’t a lot, but it was something. I also paid attention to what people were doing around me, and if someone needed help, I at least offered. They didn’t always take me up on my offer, but at least I offered. I also slowed down. I quit driving like an a**hole on my way to and from work. I took my time. I listened to music. I didn’t focus on the speedometer, and when someone ahead of me was going slower than they should have been, I either passed them when I had dotted lines, or I came up with some story about why they had good reason to go slow — and why it was good for me that they weren’t driving as fast as I wanted to.

I didn’t get into the regular Christmas spirit much at all, I have to admit. It was just pretty much lost on me — just a lot more commercials, a lot of lights, a lot of reasons to go out and spend more money, and events to interrupt the flow of my daily life. But in retrospect, I think the way I lived my life was more meaningful this year, than it has been in prior years, when I was “in the holiday spirit”.

Well, I’d better go check the turkey. And wake up my spouse, so we can open our presents. It’s Christmas morning, and it’s going to be a good one.

The best Christmas present ever…

… would be staying home. The drive through multiple states just seems more and more daunting. Both my spouse and I are sick and not getting better as quickly as we wanted, and we actually have a lot to do between now and when we are planning to leave – very little of which looks likely to get done.

I hate to say it, but not having to deal with family and pressure and all the activity would be pretty awesome. AND it would give me some quiet, uninterrupted time to focus on things I want to do — repairs around the house, studying my techie stuff, and catching up on my sleep.

At some point, I need to actually take time for myself, doing the things I want to do, at the pace I want to do them. All of my time “off” this year has involved doing things with a lot of other people and not having a whole lot of downtime. For me, that is a killer. My spouse loves to have lots of people around, most of the time, so we’d done what they wanted to do for the long vacation times. And the week I had away, traveling, was very busy with work.

This is the time of year when I like to step back, re-examine my life, and think about the direction I want to go — catch up on writing some things I’ve been meaning to talk about, and research some more things that piqued my interest along the way. It’s a time of slowing down, literally, as the days get shorter and shorter, then a little bit longer — and yet all around us, we’re being told/forced to SPEED UP!!!!

Madness.

Well, this year it’s probably going to stop. The relatives we haven’t seen in a year will be disappointed, I’m sure, but it makes more sense for us to travel to them in good weather, in any case.

Tired, tired, sick and tired. The best Christmas present of all would be to opt out of it all, just kick back, and be….

And so it shall (probably) be.

Of holidays, distraction, and career choices – a holiday saga

Very cute and cheery, but very distracting

One of the worst things about the holidays for me, is how distracting the whole experience can be. I don’t live close to my family — in more ways than one. I have a very technical career that is nothing like what the teachers and preachers and caregivers in my family pursue. I also live in an area that is more affluent than theirs, and I have very different values and priorities than when I was younger and living at home.

And in the course of my normal everyday life, that’s fine. I am aligned with my own values and I am on my own track and path. I have my plans and my desired direction, and I stick with it. I have my daily routine. I have my priorities clear. And I take definite steps in the direction of my choosing.

But during the holidays, all that changes. It begins with Halloween, when my regular schedule is up-ended by the sudden appearance of “seasonal” distractions — in grocery stores, things get moved around, candy starts to appear, all sorts of new items appear on the shelves, and I have to adjust my usual course through the store to find what I want — as well as block out the distractions of Halloween items which just take more time to think about and parse.

Thanksgiving isn’t much better. If anything, it’s worse, because there’s travel to families involved, and usually in the aftermath, I get sick. And I stay sick for the month of December, which frankly really sucks and makes it harder to just live my life. Also dealing with my family, even though I do love them and enjoy being around them, is a huge time and energy sink. Plus, when I am around my family, my focus gets diluted, I start to think about how things were with me when I was younger, and my values and priorities shift a little bit to be more like they used to be — as in, I start to think more about writing that novel, and less about honing my technical skills. I start to think in broader, more abstract ways, rather than in specific, concrete ways. My family is a very heady bunch of people, with very strong beliefs that I used to agree with and relate to. Being away from them and their way of life, it is relatively easy to focus on my own priorities and tend to the things that matter most to me. Being out of my element, in their midst, throws me off – as little else can.

Family is really important… at the same time, it can be a real hindrance. Especially when everyone in your family thinks of you in a certain way — and that way only. They don’t think about me as a person who has to get more sleep than most. They don’t think of me as a person who is easily fatigued and overwhelmed. They don’t think of me as someone who needs a little extra time to cover all my cognitive bases when I am making decisions or doing something new. And they don’t think of me as someone who needs to make adjustments in my work, because the way I think and feel and relate to the world requires that I make those adjustments to take care of myself.

My mother can’t wrap her head around me needing naps in the afternoon while I’m at work. My father doesn’t get why I work such long hours and stay so late, to avoid traffic. My siblings all seem to think that I live this charmed life of affluence and ease, because I have no kids. I haven’t told everyone about my TBIs — just my parents and one sibling. But the ones I’ve told still aren’t getting it. They’ve made it clear that they’re not going to even make the effort, and that’s that.

So, I do the best I can with what I have with these folks. I love my family and I love spending time with them. At the same time, though, their way of life and their philosophies and their orientation to, well, just about everything, is sharply different from my own — and many of the differences have to do with the accommodations I have to make for myself, and the lack of energy I have to go “bounding about” doing mental gymnastics about things that I don’t believe anyone truly understands, anyway. Maybe my life is simpler, because I’ve let go of a lot of devotion to holding specific opinions and wanting to figure everything out. Come to think of it, I’m sure it is.

It’s having to deal with my family’s devotion to being “Right” and figuring things out, that is so exhausting for me. ‘Cause then I have to re-orient myself to myself and my own beliefs and priorities, all over again after the holidays.

I realized, over this past weekend, how much Thanksgiving threw me off, when I went down to visit my family. It’s like getting pulled back in time… and then having to extract myself from the sticky goo of my past. In a way, it was good that I traveled, after I got back from Thanksgiving, because it gave me time to reset my mental compass. But now I’m sick, and I’m looking ahead to another trip down to my family, and it’s starting to get on my nerves.

Ah, well — so go the holidays. And at least I’m aware of how much my family re-calibrates my thinking when I am with them… so when I get back from the Christmas trip, I can dig in again and work on my job skills, rather than thinking about that novel I was going to write, that I was so sure would be a best-seller. Cripes, but there’s a lot swirling in my head that I need to manage.

And it’s pretty much stress-related. I find that when I am really stressed, I turn to writing fiction for relief. I start writing novels. Or short stories. It calms me. It gives me another place to “go”. But it also distracts me from doing what I need to do. The rush I get from starting something new is a powerful opiate for me. It dulls the pain and gets me thinking about all the new possibilities in life. But after the newness wears off, it’s just another thing I have to do — and it just drags me down.

So, enough of the novel-writing. At least for the next six months. If I’m ever in a position to just kick back and spend hours on end doing nothing, and my job situation is secure and stable, and I don’t have pressing financial needs, I’ll turn to writing fiction. But until that time, I need to keep steady in what I have been planning and working on for the past months — beefing up my technical skills, focusing on certain specific areas where I feel I can really contribute and make a positive difference, and worrying about a decent paycheck, not whether to write in first or second or third person.

One thing I know for sure, that is giving me a great deal of comfort — I would much rather be an individual contributor and work with numbers and code, than deal with people each and every day. I don’t want to be a manager. I want to make things, create things, invent things, render things. I want to interact with machines that will just tell me yes/no… instead of the endless dancing around all the issues and the nuances of human interaction. It’s just too stressful for me. It’s just no fun. It might look more impressive to the rest of the world, but it’s not what I want to do with myself.

I DO know what I want to do with myself. And that is a huge comfort. Especially on days like today, when everybody is clamoring for some sort of overdue thing, they’re getting snotty and irate because it’s closing down on year-end and they haven’t met all their goals, and I feel like I’m going to fall over and/or throw up.

I DO know that I’m outa there in the spring. I will have my skills in place adequately to do just that. I DO know where I’m going to focus my attention, and I DO know how important it is to not lose my train of thought again. I’m also aware — more than ever — of how distracting my family is for me, when it comes to living my life. I have to sorta kinda guard myself from their well-intentioned “guidance” and fend off their “caring” interference. They mean well. I know that. But they just don’t help, when it comes to making decisions about where I need to go next in my life.

Maybe it all boils down to possibility and opportunity. I know I live in a much wider world than they do, and I am much more hooked into what else is possible for me. I need to keep that in mind, as I move forward.

And so I shall. The last big trip of the holidays is coming up, and I’ll be seeing a lot of family — both sides, actually — on the road. My spouse’s family is much more supportive of my career than my birth family, so that will be a relief to be with them. I will need to create some sort of reminder for myself about what truly matters, over the coming months, and I will need to be careful to keep on track, so I don’t get pulled off the rails too much — or at the very least, I can get back on track after the trip is over. I’ll have to think about how to do that… it may be a real challenge. But then, real challenges are usually easier for me to handle than the “easy-peasy” ones. So, my task is clear.

Onward.

On-ward.

 

Just taking care

And now winter weather arrives… It’s supposed to get nasty later today, but at least it’s going to warm up, and the rain will stay rain, instead of that nasty ice we sometimes get at higher elevations.

I need to get moving this morning, before things start to get messy. I need to put gas in my car and also move some things around in the back yard. Yesterday was a pretty rough day – lots of distraction due to the horrible news… lots of re-examining my life to see if there is a way I can revise my daily routine and my priorities to match what means to me most.

In truth, I have to say that my life is pretty much in line with how I want to live. Granted, there is always room for improvement. But for all the hiccups and speed bumps, I have to say my difficulties are less about me ignoring the truth and more about me dealing with the truth — and the truth coming up with some unexpected surprises, here and there.

I’m sick today. Not feeling well. Really under the weather with a nasty ear infection. Fluid’s built up. Dizzy. Lightheaded. Having a really hard time keeping clear about things, beneath this fog. Just have to move slowly.

And take care.

There are a few things I need to take care of this morning, then I will lie down and sleep as long as I can this afternoon. We had our company holiday party last night, which was fine, but it was a lot to take in — a lot to handle. At a very big venue, with a lot of people. Lots of noise, lots of stimuli. Not the sort of thing I actually enjoy — too distracting. But I went. And it was okay. So there it is. That’s done, and I can get on with the rest of my life now.

Because in another week, I’ll be gearing up to head down to see families for Christmas and New Years. The thought of it is a bit daunting… then again, it’s actually not, because I’ll be able to step away from the work scene and just be with family.

And just take care. Get away from the crazy rush that fills my everyday. Just be with family and friends and relax. Do stupid things together. Play silly games. Shoot the shit. Just chill. And it’s alright.

Because in the end, even if all the rushing and pushing and craziness “pays off” in terms of money and prestige and power, we all still die alone, and we all will have to look back at the end and ask ourselves if we did the best we could with what we had. I have thought of that often, over the past years, and I’ve made choices that haven’t pleased my bosses or my uber-bosses. Because when all is said and done, I really just want to be happy and not have to constantly struggle over every little thing. I’d rather have a long life well-lived, than be stuck in a manic hamster wheel for the sake of glory, and I’d rather be able to have something to show for I’ve done, there’s nothing more to do.

As it is now, I can’t actually remember that much of what I’ve done over the years. But that’s okay. Because what I carry with me is more a sense of how I am, a sense of who I am in the world, and the feeling I have when I am just living my life. Stress and craziness and mad dashes for What’s Next  all leave an “energetic shadow” over my life, and even if I can’t remember the exact details of what happened, I can remember the feeling I’ve carried with me about those things. And that’s what matters. That’s what I care about. That’s the thing that sticks.

So, as my weekend slowly fades and winds down, and I work to keep myself clear and upright, and take care of the little things I need to take care of, I must say I’m pretty content. All is not perfect. Some things need to be tweaked. But all in all, I’m doing okay.

And that’s something.

 

 

 

And so the search for meaning begins

For Sandy Hook – Newtown, CT

The holidays are always a bitter-sweet time for me. It is supposed to be a time of joy and happiness and celebration, but I have always dreaded it. There’s something about the crush, the rush, the pressure to perform, the urgency that everyone is feeling to “get it right”, and the lingering sense that — yet again — I have not accomplished all I set out to, 11-1/2 months ago.

This year was looking like it was going to be a little different. I haven’t got any extra money, so the whole Christmas shopping thing has been a non-event for me. And there hasn’t been much snow at all, with the weather warmer than expected, and the snow that did fall rapidly melting away. I haven’t been in any sort of Christmas spirit at all. Far from it. But I was fine with that, because I’ve felt a lot of peace and equanimity, which I haven’t often felt at Christmas time.

Then some batsh*t crazy f*cker walks into an elementary school and kills 20 kids and 6 adults. Little kids. Babies. Gone. The shooter’s gone, too – along with his mother, whom he killed first. And last I heard, they were questioning his brother.

Shit. All day yesterday, it has been on my mind so much that I missed two turns on my way home and I spent 30 extra minutes driving to pick up supper I’d ordered. By the time I got home, dinner was a little cool. I didn’t break down and weep like many folks I know, but I did call home to tell my spouse how much I loved them. No matter how dulled we may be to the cruelties and anguish of this world, awful tragedies like this do alter our world view at least a little and force us to look at the world with fresh eyes.

Senseless. Awful beyond description. Horrifying.

Preventable?

How? Why?

… Why?

At times like this, our national instincts seem to respond in two ways — one, with unimaginable grief and horror… two, with clinical, distant reasoning that reaches conclusions that seem “logical” enough to the thinkers. On the one hand, there are those who plunge into grief and compassion… and pray. And then there are those who raise the banners of their crusade and charge forth into battle — to either stem the tide of semi-automatic assault weapons that keep showing up on the news, or to call for an even more aggressively armed society where people will think twice before they do something like this… again.

Before the shouting begins (although it already has), I need to take a breath and remember that I too will feel the eager pull of diving into the debate about gun control and the rights to keep and bear arms. I need to remember that I am tired and frustrated and in pain for these families, and that inclines me to say and do things that I wouldn’t otherwise do. I need to remember that the things that I often think are really good ideas, often… aren’t. And the things I want to say and do under such circumstances may not match the things I’d say and do under more ideal conditions.

I need to hold back and not strike out at others whose politics and cultural habits seem to either feed this scourge of shootings that has become so terribly commonplace, perpetuate it with apathy and denial, or alienate and polarize members of “the other side” so that no constructive debate can actually happen. My feelings on the issue of gun control, medication, mental illness, and personal/public security are many and varied, and I don’t fall easily into any one camp. I can easily burn through the friendships I have with a wide variety of people, over this whole thing… and I can’t afford to just alienate everyone on a passing (and passionate) whim.

So, I need to stop — just stop — and check myself, before I start doing and saying things that I can’t take back.

Ultimately, times like this — as senseless and as horrifying as they are — serve most to remind me just how much suffering there is in the world. Without getting into the reasons “why” or pointing fingers or laying blame — as we all love to do — I need to just remember that this kind of thing happens terribly often, all over the world. And whether the parents are in Newtown, Connecticut or in Kandahar Province or in Marseilles or in Chenpeng or in Baghdad, there are an awful lot of them who are losing their kids and parents and teachers to violence they would do anything to avoid, but cannot.

Times like this, I also need to remember how quickly we all tend to “apportion” our compassion. Closer to home, it’s easier to feel the burn and recognize the true horror. When the kids and teachers look like OUR kids and teachers… when they speak the same language, when they eat the same foods, keep the same schedule, vote for the same politicians, and could easily be related to us, it hits us so much harder when something this awful happens.

When the others are… well, other… it becomes a different story. Especially when the others are on the other side politically or geographically, or we’ve been told there is a Very Good Reason why they are being forced to suffer — sometimes in our names, with our tax dollars buying the ammo. And then there are those who are so remote from us, politically and socially and culturally and racially, who are undergoing such horrifying violence and destruction, it is literally impossible for us to get our heads around it, and the best we can do is try to protect ourselves and our kids and our families from having that happen to them.

And that’s all the suffering that’s on the surface. Deep beneath the careful veneer of everyday functioning, there are countless individuals who struggle daily with pain and anguish they neither understand nor can seem to overcome. There are countless individuals whose pain and suffering is well concealed, which cannot be guessed at by anyone nearby. The concealment can be deliberate — they can’t afford to let anyone know — or by default — either because others cannot fathom what it’s like, or they choose not to see. It could very well be that others choose not to see because their own inner pain is so profound that, to open that up is not an option… they literally feel like that might kill them.

And so they don’t open up to it. They stay closed. They get on with things. And they expect others to do the same.

I wish I could do just that — shut down and suck it up… and get on with it. I wish it were that easy. I wish I could just pretend away the headaches, the memory lapses, the distractability, the inner storms that rage at times, the frustrations, the sleeplessness, the stress, the nagging uncertainty about, well, everything. I wish all those things, compared to what happened yesterday in Connecticut, paled and didn’t matter or affect me. I wish I could dismiss it all, since compared to some, I have it really great.

But it’s not that easy. It’s not that simple. And while focusing on the pain of others does put things in perspective and make me incredibly grateful for what I have, I still have to deal with my own issues as I get on with my day. I’m not feeling well this morning. I haven’t felt well for most of this week. I’m fighting off a cold, with my ears filling up with fluid and my balance going haywire. I’m distracted, too, by all this anguish. Which makes me particularly vulnerable to more injury, if I’m not careful. I have to get back to some semblance of normal after a grueling couple of weeks, which is a prelude to an even more challenging 8 days before I leave for my marathon Christmas/New Years tour through five states and several families.

I just don’t feel right. And a whole lot of other people don’t either. We keep checking the news to understand “why”. We keep checking Facebook to see how others are dealing with this. We loop through question after question after question in our shuddering minds, unable to get our heads around it, haunted by the images of the parents and the kids, unable to keep from imagining what it must be like… even if it does us and them no good to do so. At some point, we just have to stop. Just stop. Take a break. Go back to bed. Or go shop. Run some errands. Just do something — anything — to get our heads off it. And all the while, Why… why…? Along with the constant running commentary in my head that pretends to “know why” as a form of logic-driven self-defense in the face of such loss.

… Why?

This world is hardly a simple, cut-and-dried sort of place, and this holiday season may or may not be even worth celebrating. Suffering is rampant on any given day, and this time of year is no exception. In Connecticut this Christmas, there will be toys that cannot be opened, and there will be pain so great it is unspeakable. There are just no words…

And around the world, this holiday season, there are countless other families who have lost babies… mothers… fathers… loved ones.  To war or fire or famine or flood or drought or disease or any number of other reasons. They are brown or yellow or black or red or white. Some of them are even in our own country, living on the fringes of our Great American Experiment, watching their loved ones and all their own hope fade before their very eyes, as so many look away.

This is what I bring with me this holiday season – not just the urge to “be happy” in the face of it all (although that is certainly part of it), but to see and know and understand the other side of happy — the pain and the suffering that so many, myself included, endure at this time. This is not to say that I am succumbing to the dark pull of the nebula of suffering that lurks at the edges of our personal universes, but to say that I can see and feel clearly how much pain and suffering there really is in the world. There are so many who are so alone, whether or not they are the only one in the room. There are so many who struggle and suffer in silence without recognition or support from others. There are so many who carry immense pain and anguish with them over invisible difficulties that they just can’t shake. And seeing and feeling that seems only right, in this time when there is — at the same time — so much light.

Because there is. On the 21st of December, the Winter Solstice will mark the expansion of daylight in our northern hemisphere. The darkening days (literally) will give way to longer hours of light, and a shorter night. This will not eradicate the night — hardly — only give us more light to see our way, for more hours of each day. And when I think of that, when I think of how the world turns and changes, and how many myriad times we have all been through the darkest of dark times and the brightest of bright times, I know that other side of things — the peace and the joy and the hope. Peace that passeth understanding. Joy unbounded. And hope beyond hope.

This is the ultimate irony of this season — that it is such an extremely hard time for many, and yet it has so much hope and promise in it. That 20 little children and adults who were trying to care for and protect them were gunned down, less than two weeks before Christmas is something that will overshadow this season for many years to come. I can’t imagine that a single Christmas will ever pass again without this being remembered.

And in the midst of this remembering, I have to also keep in mind, how many others are suffering — hidden or forgotten or both… how many others are struggling, for other reasons… how many others have lost hope and have no idea what comes next. The politicking and social debates and cultural clashes are bound to flare up soon, which to me adds an even greater pall over these events, even as I know that some sort of change is necessary. It’s not the debate that gets me — it’s the tone of it, the tenor, the divisiveness and the aggression. From each side towards the other. What I need to keep in mind, as those battles rage, is that the source of the frustration and the aggression and the divisiveness is nothing less than human nature — fueled by passion over Things That Matter.

It’s not the greatest comfort, but it is something.

In the end, though, I can’t afford to be felled by this experience. I was not in Connecticut. I do not know those families or those children. My own involvement is as limited with them, as it is with families in Ramallah who lose their kids, too. The fact that they are from my country doesn’t mean they are any more or less valuable than anyone else. ALL are valuable, and ALL matter, and enough with the apportioning of compassion to decide who matters, and who doesn’t.  The fact of this horrible shock doesn’t make the sufferings of others any less — the homeless vets struggling with PTSD and TBI on the bitterly cold streets of Chicago or Philadelphia… the families in the Detroit area who are being evicted because they cannot pay their rent… the farmer in South Dakota who lost his barn to fire… the housewife in Boise whose doctor can’t explain that nagging pain in her abdomen… the injured, the broken, the burned, the terminally ill… whether ambulatory or bedridden… whether about to be discharged to go home and recover, or to be moved to hospice to pass on during the Christmas season…. whether cut down in the flower of life, or struggling with lingering dementia in their final days/weeks/months/years/who-can-tell-how-long? For all the light that comes in, this is NOT an easy time for many.

And so it becomes all the more important to find light… to find something else to dwell on… not to banish the pain, but to find the strength to face it. We must find sources of strength and light, so that we can keep ourselves going in this seemingly impossible stretch of “holiday cheer”. We cannot run our best on fumes, and we cannot keep our strength up by dwelling only on darkness. We must seek more, we must find better. For the sake of facing What Is… no matter what.

Ultimately, it really is our choice, what we choose to do with these situations. We can allow ourselves to be pulled down into nothingness and give up hope entirely. Or we can see with different eyes and choose something different for ourselves. We can starve ourselves in grief… or stuff ourselves with sweets in denial… or we can eat sensibly and exercise and get on with doing what needs to be done. What others do… we have no control. What comes of our actions and reactions… that we do have some say in. And what we choose matters a great deal. To everyone around us.

But I have gone on too long… looking for meaning in all of this. Hoping for hope. Digging for clues. The earth cries out with the loss of each child, the ground soaked with young blood the world over. How we choose to approach it, how we decide to use that knowledge… it is up to you. So choose wisely.

And let there be Life, as well.

Keeping the home fires burning bright

Keep the home fires burning bright.

We got back late last night from my Thanksgiving trip to my parents’ place. All the (living) siblings descended from points throughout the USA, with all the kids (plus a few friends) in tow, and we proceeded to completely overwhelm each other. It was all in good fun, of course, which is a big change from how things have been in the past, and for that I am very, very grateful. I’m even more thankful now than I was on Thanksgiving day. It was a good visit, this year. Much better than in the past. Many a year has come and gone with me (literally) writhing in emotional and physical agony over the holidays.

The Top Ten things that set me over the edge in the past were:

1. Not taking good care of myself, eating all the wrong things in very large amounts.
2. Not pacing myself with all the activity.
3. Getting bent out of shape over things that people said or did.
4. Not getting enough exercise.
5. Not getting enough alone-time”, but staying in the thick of everything ALL the time.
6. Deciding to “take the bait” when siblings wanted to argue and tangle with me, because somehow I thought that this time I would “win.
7. Trying to intercede to make sure that the arguments between my spouse and my parents didn’t escalate.
8. Trying to make sure my spouse was always comfortable and felt welcome (a losing battle, if ever there was one).
9. Getting upset over people saying and doing things I did not agree with — AT ALL — and trying to debate issues, getting turned around, and melting down, either privately or publicly.
10. Pushing myself to do things when I was over-tired or over-stressed.

None of those things happened this time — that is to say, I chose to do things differently, so that none of the above had to happen. There were a couple of close calls, but I just noted them and moved on.

The Top Ten things I did that kept me well back from the edge this year were:

1. Making an effort to take good care of myself, eating the right things in the right amounts. I brought my own cereal and rice milk, so I could be dairy-free, and I steered clear of a lot of bread.
2. I paced myself with all the activity, being active at times, and stepping away from the pandemonium at others.
3. I didn’t bother getting bent out of shape over things that people said or did. I figured, there was a really good reason they think what they do, and I haven’t the faintest idea what those reasons are, so leave it well enough alone.
4. I started out each day with exercise. Either I walked up the big hill from the place where we were staying to my parents’ house — about 3/4 mile all uphill — or I walked my sibling’s dog when I got to the house. I took the dog for a lot of walks – it was very cool.
5. I did my best to get enough alone-time. Granted, with 9 kids and a dog running around at top speed the whole time, and all the nieces and nephews wanting me to play with them or hang out with them, it was a challenge — because I really wanted to be in the thick of everything. But I did step away at times. Everybody did, actually.
6. I didn’t “take the bait” when siblings wanted to argue and tangle with me. When my smart-ass, condescending siblings would start in on me, I would just nod and smile and make some vague comment that told them I wasn’t “going there” with them. There was just no point. I think they were glad of it, too.
7. I did not intercede to make sure that the arguments between my spouse and my parents didn’t escalate. They have major differences that rankle my spouse to no end, but after 22 years, I’ve finally realized that that’s “their thing” — they actually enjoy wrangling with each other, sparring and testing each others’ boundaries. It’s taken me two decades to get used to it, but finally I’m fine with things never being fine between them.
8. I literally quit trying to make sure my spouse was always comfortable and felt welcome. Through no fault of anyone, that’s a losing battle. My family can be very judgmental and alienating, so no matter who is with them, there will always be an element of “You don’t belong”. That applies to me, as well, but it’s very difficult for my spouse to take. They really feel that judgment sharply, and they take it personally. And they get combative when they’re not comfortable or feel like they’re being attacked  — which they do, around my parents, because, well, they are being attacked. So, I’ve spent way too much time over the years, trying to find common ground and let them work it out with each other. This time, I just washed my hands of it and let it all alone, figuring that they were all adults and could reach some agreement, somehow, without my meddling. One other “bad” thing that turned out to be helpful, was that my spouse was sick with an upper respiratory infection, so they were laid low for much of the time, anyway. I did what I could to make them comfortable, but they just weren’t, so I let them “do their thing” with sleeping a lot and stepping away to take meds and such, and I just got on with my own visit. I feel bad that my spouse was not feeling well, but they’ll have their time with their family at Christmas, so then they’ll get to be involved and feel accepted and welcomed and not judged. It’s a balance, this time of year, and there’s always going to be “emotional collateral damage” so let’s let it go it at that and be happy for what good we do have.
9. I didn’t bother getting upset over people saying and doing things I did not agree with — AT ALL — and trying to debate issues, getting turned around, and melting down, either privately or publicly. I’ve tried the debate thing for I don’t know how many years, and it’s always been a losing battle. I just lose my train of thought in the midst of heated debates, and then I get bent out of shape because I can’t think clearly and all my TBI-related issues come flooding to the surface. And I get sucked down into that “I am so eff’ed up – what is wrong with me?!” Which is never good for anyone, because then I take it out on my spouse or anyone else who is nearby, including myself. In the past, I’ve actually hurt myself over it during meltdowns, slamming my head against a wall or hitting my arms or legs so hard that they bruised. It was the only way I could find to get my brain to stop cycling down into the pit of despair. Giving up on the negative self-talk from the get-go works a whole lot better, I’m happy to report.
10. I quit pushing myself to do things when I was over-tired or over-stressed. This was the only thing to do, in the face of all that activity. Yes, I missed valuable time with elderly relatives I may never see again. Yes, I missed out on conversations and activities with nieces and nephews. Yes, I missed out on things I would probably regret if I knew exactly what was happening. But my internal barometer has gotten so much better over the past couple of years, and now I can tell when my stress level is pushing me, and I need to stop the pushing. This is so important, because when I’m over-extended and stressed, I say and do things that I deeply regret (like saying obnoxious things… starting arguments over nothing… babbling when I should be quiet… falling down and sustaining injuries – including brain injuries… and pointing a real-but-not-loaded rifle at my youngest sibling after a long family trip and pretending to shoot them).  Bad things tend to happen when I am overextended and keep pushing. So, I stepped away and stopped doing things, even the things I wanted to do so badly, because it wasn’t worth the risk to myself and others. Better to have fewer moments with an elderly relative that I want to remember than having a lot of moments with them that I want to — but cannot — forget.

Bottom line about this past Thanksgiving: Gor the sake of myself and others, I just let a lot of sh*t go — I have a number of very elderly relatives and friends, who may not be alive the next time I visit, so I just wanted to focus on the good — and feed that side of my attitude.

I also didn’t beat myself up, if I couldn’t do certain things, like stay up talking when I was exhausted, or go do things when I needed to do something else. I just went with what happened, and tried to find the good in it.

Which was an early Christmas Miracle — some of my relatives can be politically and socially obnoxious, and they are convinced they are 100% right and everyone who doesn’t agree with them is an idiot. Also, half of my family is very connected through in-laws and marriages and churches and shared connections in their communities, so there was a lot of talk about things and events and people and ideas that I wasn’t a part of. I did feel very isolated at times, and I felt sad that I wasn’t part of that world, which is very close-knit and supportive for those who belong. But there is a price for everything, and I have never been willing to give up my independence and personal convictions, to go along with the group, So even though I don’t have those community connections and widespread support, and I was very much on the outside many times, at least I have myself. And that’s what truly matters.

It was really hard being around people who believe that their world is the only right one — and everyone else is wrong and stupid and ignorant and corrupt. Because that puts me on the outside, and when everyone is all together, that feeling of being marginalized is even more pronounced. But then I thought about all the other people in the world who feel that way, for one reason or another — and I didn’t feel so badly. Because even in the midst of a supportive community of common values, there are many who feel secretly alone and isolated.

It’s not just (about) me. We all feel that way at times. It’s just how things are for lots of folks.

So, by putting my emphasis on the experiences of others, I was able to get away from my own self-pity — and I was also able to see how even the folks who were the “ïn crowd” were still very much on the outside.And I was able to really have some good conversations with family members who have been pretty estranged for many years. So, all in all, it was a good visit – mostly because I got the hell out of my own way.

This holiday season, I feel more motivated than ever to really do justice to this blog — not focusing so much on ME and MY problems, but talking about the issues that so many of us have in common, and sharing solutions that have worked for me, so that hopefully others can benefit as well.

This is a season of giving, no matter what your religion (or no religion at all). Yes, it’s over-commercialized. Yes, people are behaving really badly. Yes, it has lost a lot of deeper meaning in the mainstream culture. But each of us, in our own small way, can supply our own meaning and do what we can to honor and support that within ourselves. Whether you are celebrating the birth of Jesus, or a Season of Lights, or Principles that guide you in life, or the turning of the Wheel of Life, each of us can make of this season what we will. We can choose to wring our hands and shake our heads over videos of Walmart cell phone brawls, or we can look for ways we can reach out to others and give what we can from what we have. We have a whole range of things we can look at and wonder about, and each day we see a broad spectrum of behaviors we do or do not approve of. It’s our choice, how we relate to those things, and it’s our choice how we respond.

I, for one, would rather be part of a solution and bring hope in a time when so many feel hopeless and alone. This blog is one small way I can do that, and I hope to do some good, this holiday season — and beyond that, each and every day.

In many parts of the world, it’s getting cold. That doesn’t have to happen in our hearts.

Homeward bound

This Thanksgiving has been a good one. It’s been a whirlwind tour, and it’s been completely exhausting, but I have held up remarkably well, I’ve taken good care of myself, and I haven’t had any terrible breakdowns, as in years past.

So, for that I am very thankful.

I got to see family members who live far from me. Got to reconnect, had some good times playing games and visiting. There’s a lot about this that makes me sad and angry and upset, but when I am rested, I can handle it.

So, I’m handling it.

I’ve been taking regular naps — yesterday I didn’t get one, but that’s okay. I’ve also been pacing myself and making sure I step away on a regular basis. I don’t feel the need to force myself into the fray constantly. And the old pressure to pack as much visiting in as humanly possible, has given way to common sense and a better pace.

I’m pretty well exhausted from it all, but I’m doing my breathing exercises, and I’m getting regular brisk morning walks up a very large hill, which is helping a great deal.

I’m headed home this afternoon, and I’m looking forward to having my life back – in my own home, with my own food, my own bed, my own schedule, in my own way.

It’s been good here. And it’s enough.

Back to the action

Let's get it started

I’m off to a good start, today. I woke up early and tried to get back to sleep, then realized after a while that I was pretty much *up* so it would make more sense for me to just get moving and get ahead of my day. I caught a nasty head cold over the holiday trip, and I wasn’t going to get much more sleep, thanks to my running nose and watering eyes.

So, I got up and did some mindful sitting, first thing. I started out with the intention of just going to 10 breaths. Then I went past that and went to 13… and beyond. I wasn’t feeling very settled at the start. My heart started racing, and my breathing was very tight. But after about 15 breaths, things started to settle in, and by the time I had counted to 25, I was feeling more settled, more stabilized. So, I breathed and counted to 47, a prime number that has more associated with it than most people would guess. I felt really good, by the time I got to 47, and I was tempted to keep going, but I had more plans that I wanted to follow up with, and I didn’t want to ruin a good thing by overdoing it.

So I got up, came downstairs, and got on my exercise bike for a15-minute ride. I listened to music as I rode, trying to keep my mind on the actual bicycling and not chafe too much at it. In past months, I have gotten away from riding the bike, first thing, because it started feeling forced and boring and same-old-same-old. This morning, however, I had motivation to ride, because I am sick with this cold, and I need to move the lymph through my system to help clear out this infection. The sludge won’t move itself out of my system, so I need to give it a little boost, which is what riding the bike will do for me. Plus, it warmed me up — it’s cold — winter, after all — and I hate feeling cold, first thing in the morning. So, having a brisk bike ride not only got me moving in a healthier direction, but it also got me warmed up. And that was great.

After my ride, I put the coffee water on to boil and did some stretching and moving. Then I poured my coffee and put the water on for my soft-boiled egg. While that was heating up, I did my old familiar free weights routine, where I go through a whole circuit of lifting for my legs and upper body. It actually felt really good to do it again, and I had to wonder why I haven’t done much of that at all, in the past several months. I guess I just got bored with it. Lost my motivation, for some reason. Just lost it… Probably due to all the anxiety over the changes at work and my fight-flight instincts getting tweaked all over the spectrum.

By the time the water had boiled and my egg was ready, I got in my quick free weights workout, as well as my balance work. The balance stuff is really important, because my ears are quite stopped up, and I’m off-kilter, these days. But doing the leg lifts without anything to stabilize me, got my balance “tuned up” a bit, and by the time my breakfast was ready, I’d gotten a full morning workout in.

Now, I’ve been pretty hard on myself, lately, about having slacked off on my exercise routine. I guess I just got sick and tired of it, doing the same thing every morning. I also lost sight of how important it is to do it regularly. I guess I started taking it for granted, and I started taking my physical well-being for granted. I did need a change of pace, actually, but thinking back, I think it was really a motivation void that sucker-punched me. The changes at work, which have all happened on a pretty extreme scale, got me thinking that I’m a helpless victim and I can’t do anything to help myself. The home office is overseas, and the people making the rules are far from any of us who are doing the everyday work. So, it’s a very different and much less invested sort of arrangement than before. And with all this going on, I guess I just felt, “What’s the use?” I succumbed to the feeling of being a victim, of being helpless, of being the subject/target of someone else’s ambitions, and unable to change any of it. And when I went out looking for other jobs, that helplessness came through, I’m not proud to say.

Now I’m back, though, and I’ve got a different perspective on things. I know what I need to do, to move on to the next level, and I’m setting about doing that — on my own terms and in my own way. My employer can do what they like, I’ve got my own agenda, and I fully intend to stick with it.

I also fully intend to stick with my exercise routine. Because I got a good look at what happens to people in my family when they don’t take care of themselves, and they just give in to the “inevitable” march of time. I got a close-up look at what happens when you don’t exercise, or when you don’t eat properly, or when you are in total denial about your state of mind and body. I got a good look, too, at what can happen when you take care of yourself — one of my relatives just turned 100 years old, this past year, and the contrast of their quality of life with the rest of my family is truly remarkable. That’s what I want — the 100+ years of decent self-maintenance and care — NOT the however-many-years of “inevitable” decline that has everyone wondering about how you’re going to take care of yourself when you get so badly off that you can’t even move or think or function.

Yeah, I’ll take a pass on the latter. The former — whole health for a long, long time — is what I want for my life.

And because of that, I did manage to get up this morning and do my sitting/breathing exercises. Because doing that balances out my nervous system, it calms my mind and it restores my ability to not only discern what is going on inside my head and heart, but it also restores my ability make independent choices about what to do with those things. When I sit and breathe and watch my thoughts and emotions come up without reacting to them, I become better at seeing what the hell is going on with me, as well as not letting it get the betrer of me.

I had actually started doing my sitting/breathing while I was on my trip. I started it again the day after Christmas, I think, and it really helped me keep calm and cool in the face of some pretty drastic upheavals and revelations. There were a couple of times that tempers got hot, and it could have boiled up and spilled over and gotten messy — and my meltdowns can get messy. But it didn’t. Things didn’t boil over. I was able to see and identify what was going on, and I was able to call attention to what was really going on, so we could have a bit of a laugh about it, and dispel the drama before it even got started.

And that’s a good thing.

It’s a really, really good thing.

And I’ve been thinking… a lot… about how much this breathing/sitting practice helps me with post-concussion issues… helps me with mTBI issues… helps me with life issues. It’s a bit uncanny, but at the same time, it makes perfect sense. And now that I understand the mechanics of it, it’s more valuable and sensible to me than ever before.

Sitting and breathing balances out my autonomic nervous system — the part of me that runs the fight-flight scene, and can send me downhill into a raging meltdown… or chase me into a fog of flight that has me avoiding any and all human contact or activities… ultimately wearing me out physically and making me feel like crap about myself. Just sitting still and counting my breaths gets my body back in balance, with my heart rate regulating and my attention focused on relaxing, which is key for me.

Sitting and breathing also strengthens my attention and focus. I’m far from perfect, of course, but just practicing regularly makes me better at sustained focus and resisting distraction. That’s so very important to my daily functioning – my levels of distractability can go way off the charts, so strengthening this ability has a direct and significant impact on my ability to be effective and capable in my daily life. And the fact that the sitting and breathing takes place in the privacy of my own home, makes it that much more comfortable for me. Sure, I can try to practice sitting quietly and breathing at work — either stepping away from my desk, or taking a moment at my desk. But there’s nothing like doing it in my own home, where the focus is on me and my well-being, rather in what needs to get done next.

And it occurs to me that I’m not the only person in my situation who could benefit from this. It occurs to me that plenty of other people who are struggling with TBI/concussion issues could do this, as well… Particularly in the days after a concussion or TBI. After a brain injury, they tell you you’re supposed to rest and do nothing. Well, how about doing the kind of “nothing” that actually helps your nervous system balance itself out, and also helps you regulate your moods, heart rate, and racing mind?

It’s an idea. And who knows? It might just be a missing piece in the puzzle that is concussion management and TBI recovery that helps people get back to their everyday lives — in whatever form — with greater presence of mind as well as a well-toned autonomic nervous system.

But speaking of management and recovery and action, it’s time I got myself in gear and started getting ready for work. I’m back from my week away, and I have one day left in 2011 to gather up some of the loose pieces of the past months and set the stage for next year.

I’ve already managed to get up at a pro-active time of day, get my much-needed exercise in, and figure some stuff out.

Not a bad way to start the day. Not a bad way to close out the year.

Now, back to the action…

Just a little farther to go

In another 24 hours, I’ll very likely be back in my own home. That’s assuming that all goes well and according to plan, and I don’t run up against any more roadblocks.

It’s been a good trip, but I’ll be glad to have it behind me. I’ve had some good times visiting with family and friends, and I’ve had some harrowing times getting news that nobody wants to hear — who’s got cancer, who’s getting divorced, who’s been secretly getting drunk off their ass every night for the past seven years, who’s showing signs of dementia, who’s been repeatedly asking, “Who will take care of me when I cannot care for myself?”

I’ve been seeing some troubling behaviors in people who are close to me, and it makes it all the more imperative that I maintain some sort of stability over the coming months and years. Once the cognitive decline sets in, there’s really no turning back, and who’s to say how long it will last, and how quickly it will progress?

I’m talking about others having troubles — people I will very likely be asked to make decisions for, at some point. Calls need to be made to my siblings, so we can sort things out about our parents, before the sh*t hits the fan. And I need to make provisions for myself in the case that my spouse starts to decline and demand more of me.

I’ve got a lot on my head, a lot on my shoulders. And the fun hasn’t even started in earnest yet.

I’m doing my best to keep cool — it’s really a matter of me keeping my act together, so that I can be of use on down the line. That means I need to get back in the practice of the regular daily exercise regimen. It means I need to build a LOT more physical strength and endurance than I have right now. It means I need to really hunker down in my work and quit dicking around like I can afford to lose the job. It means I need to really clear things up in my head and in my life, strip away even more of the unnecessary stuff, laser in, and keep my act together.

But that’s really all off in the distance — many of my most pressing concerns aren’t front and center yet. There will be time for that later. For now, I need to focus on what’s in front of me — getting back home in one piece, safely… finishing out the year at work on Friday… then spending the long weekend honing my sense of direction and hunkering down to make it all happen as best I can.

I’ve got a long haul in front of me. But for now, I’ll just keep focusing on the little way I have to go.

Remembering to level out

Just chill...

The week I’m spending away from the usual grind is turning out to be very well spent. Just not being able to work at all, not being able to get online, “not being able” to do anything other than drive in the car or sit down to a meal or hang out with family or sleep for an hour or so, has given me a much-needed break from the constant push.

The last weeks of the year have been so intensely focused on finishing up and finalizing the year and getting everything squared away and DONE, that I haven’t had — or taken — the time to settle in and chill myself out. I get so consumed with the year-end busy-ness, that I lose sight of the importance of sitting and breathing… exercising and stretching.

I have been doing some more stretching and sitting and breathing, taking regular breaks from the flurry of activity around me to let my system settle down again. It’s when I haven’t taken the time to settle down my fight-flight-fun side, and I’ve gotten pretty wired, that I’ve snapped and had to regroup, so I could get on with my day.

It would be nice to think that handling PCS symptoms were a simple matter of understanding what is going on with me and then actively managing it, so nothing ever goes wrong and I never “slip up” again. I certainly have enough information to do so. But information alone isn’t going to solve the whole situation. There’s also the issue of motivation, as well as strength and endurance.

Now, when I say strength and endurance, I’m actually talking about physical strength and endurance, as much as psychological strength and endurance. Because when I am physically weak and easily tired, my mood suffers, and my issues management suffers. When I’m weak and weary, I tend to slide down into a dark hole and let myself slide even more. It’s depressing for me, to feel heavy and slow. I was too much of an athlete when I was younger, to feel comfortable being in poor shape now.

In fact, I think it’s safe to say that the better I take care of my body, the better I can manage my mind. I’ve gotten away from that in the past weeks, focusing more on work and Christmas cookies and running errands, than keeping steady and keeping myself leveled out.

But this break is getting me back to some disciplines I was following before. I’m still not exercising as soon as I get up, but I have been spending time sitting and breathing, which helps — even when I only do it for a few minutes. It’s probably one of the most dramatically effective techniques I know to get myself chilled, to restore balance to my fluctuating moods, and to get myself back to a place where I have more of a say over how I react to the world around me.

And that is key. Because the single-most disruptive aspect of my life — which affects my work and my home life and all the relationships I have — is the hold that emotional volatility (some call it “lability”) gets on me, when I least expect it to. I’ve been increasingly volatile at work and at home, and that’s been a huge problem. It’s affecting me, and as much as I can say, “Oh, it’s just the holidays and year-end stress,” that doesn’t change the effects it has on my relationships.

So, leveling out that volatility and chilling myself out has huge benefits for me. And remembering to do that is the first step. Forgetting that I need to do this has been an increasing problem — I just forget to do it. Or I get so busy and so caught up in what I think I HAVE to do as soon as I wake up, that I just don’t do it.

So, I need to get back to just doing it regularly, as I had been each morning, until about a month back. I need to restore that regular practice and just do something. Part of my problem is that I get so focused on doing it a certain way — exactly x-number of breaths in exactly the same way each day — that when I can’t do it exactly like that, I decide I’ve failed, and I don’t bother.

But I can do something, even if I can’t do things exactly perfectly the way I think they should be done. I don’t have to do this rigid thinking thing — especially first thing in the morning. I can cut myself a break and at least do something that I know will help me. Even in small amounts… plus I sometimes find that when I start small, I find the means to continue on and go the distance on what I originally wanted to do.

Speaking of going the distance, I need to get the car packed and head on up the road again to more relatives. For more visiting. More eating. More relaxing. And not a bit of work in sight.