Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Baby Time In the Moment

This afternoon, as I was ending my yoga asana practice and starting my short meditation, I remembered that one of my yoga teachers training assignments for this week is to meditate for 15 minutes every day and to journal about it. So I set the timer meditated. I wound up with an 8-count rounded breath, and then I added in my affirmations. I could feel my senses turning inward; it was a fantastic feeling to be fully within my own body in the moment. It really helped me feel calm and centered. The fifteen minutes were up before I had finished, so I turned off the timer and continued to meditate. When I finished, I was focused, yet peaceful and energized at the same time. I felt 100% better than when I started. Yet how often do we really stop to take that time for ourselves, to really be, not only in the moment, but within ourselves? Why is it so hard for us to take that time to nurture ourselves? We're so willing to give our time to others or to other things, but we neglect what's important to and for us.

I had a good afternoon shopping with B. We got her boots and shirt for her Halloween costume. She's decided to be the character "Catniss" from the book "The Hunger Games." I scheduled her an appointment for a hair trim and straightening with Ann on Thursday for it, too. We had so much fun at Costco! We'd splurged on a Wetzel's Pretzel before we left the mall, and the simple carbs hit our bloodstream about halfway through our Costco shop. We were cracking each other up! I told B that I wanted dark chocolate pomegranate candies, and learned that she hates pomegranates. When we were in the produce section, she saw the actual pomegranate fruits and noticed that on the side of the box it said "Pomegranate Grenades" and she cracked up! She said, "I'll buy some pomegranate grenades!" I know, 'grenades' is what they're called in French (hence grenadine, i.e. pomegranate juice), but it was still funny!

Then when we passed the CD/DVD section, we heard some Christmas music playing. Yes, it's not Halloween yet, but Costco gets a jump on those things. As we walked past it, I realized they were playing the Christmas Song. No, not the "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire" standard; the song by Alvin and the Chipmunks! I joined in on, "Me, I want a hula hoop!" And Beth about died! I sang along where I knew the words. She threatened to throw a huge jug of French's Yellow Mustard at me - all 6 pounds 9 ounces of it! As she says, "Costco, where you can buy freakishly large amounts of stuff you don't need!" It really was a nice afternoon with her.

Later that night, instead of watching TV, I popped in a home video of the kids, starting at D's 3rd birthday - when we went to Disneyland for his 'Disneylandy Burr-day!" It was so great! Even though soon into it there was a good 4-month gap when I had the miscarriage and was recovering from it. It was so precious to see the kidos as babies again.

There was one long section when I'd snuck up on the kids when D was about 3 1/2 and B was 1 1/2. D had helped B climb into her crib (it wasn't nap time), and he was in there with her, playing peekaboo with her under one of her blankets. I started talking to them, and it was actually one of the longest video segments we had of them because they were stuck in the crib and couldn't rush the camera! When they were toddlers, as soon as they'd notice the camera, they'd stop what they were doing, start saying, "Smile!!!" and would rush me! This time, they still said, "Smile!!!", but I was able to ask them to do different things. D sang "Twinkle Twinkle", which cracked me up because I'd forgotten that instead of saying "Up above the world so high" he'd say, "I wonder why you're over me" (or more accurately, "O'er me".) So silly! And he sang the alphabet song, counted to 20, and then was getting ready to say his ABC's when he said, "Look! My toes!!!" So hilarious! I got B to tell me what different animals said, but I had to make D stop answering for her. Then I told them it was time for a bath and they both got SOOOO excited! I forgot how much they loved bath time!

There were a lot of really good memories caught on film. But what I realized most was how much I loved being a mom to babies! And not just because they're cute, but because it's so easy for me to be in the moment when babies are around! Everything is so wonderful - literally full of wonder - that you can't help but be caught up in that with them! I felt that same feeling just 3 weeks ago when Gabe and Mari were here with the girls. You just let go of everything else that's going on and embrace the moment.

Belle wanted me to go see the elk in the grass (through the ivy at the back of the yard), so of course I stopped eating my dinner and went to look for elk with her!
Looking for elk. Belle whispered, "Where is it?" I said, "I don't know? Where is it?" She pointed and said, "It's in the grass... over there!"

Care wanted me to show her the snow globes, find the kitty, and even show her my room, so why on earth would I say no? And those investments paid off in spades! Care always wants her Gackie to pick up her (I never refuse her!)

Having some tickle-time with Care

And at the end of the night, Belle had her bottle and curled up in my lap for a snuggle. Such a precious time with them, so lovely!

There's nothing like the feel of complete trust and love a toddler will give you when they snuggle in your arms, and how any mom naturally starts to sway with them. I had another moment last week with one of my fellow-yogini's daughters (side note: is fellow yogini correct? I mean, fellow is masculine, whereas yogini is feminine...) Little Lila came in just before bed, carrying her bottle; I was sitting on the floor and cooed to her, holding my arms open, and she came right to me. She was so adorable! She just snuggled up in my arms, and I started rocking from side to side with her. At some point, one of the other yoginis asked me something, and I stopped swaying, just to be reminded to get back to business by the determined Little Miss Lila, who was swaying in my lap. I may not have babies of my own any more, but that makes it all the more precious for me when I can borrow someone else's!

Babies truly are wonderful. Not only do they grant us a sense of wonderment if we see the world through their eyes, they can truly remind us to experience the world, the moment, NOW, as they do. They have no job, no to-do list, no history or past mistakes to run away from. They just experience each minute of each day as it is, when it is, with their full emotion, with clarity, with joy. There's nothing so great as their sense of peace and contentment at the end of the day with a warm bottle and loving arms to hold them. And as Patanjali says, contentment is bliss.

Here's to bliss!

Monday, October 12, 2009

Choosing Happiness

Things have been a bit tough for me lately. Heck, everyone has periods of time like that in their lives. But I think part of what defines us is how we handle it.

I'm known for being gregarious (hence the nickname), exuberant, energetic, bubbly, happy... But very often that is a conscious choice for me. God, I used to be shy and reserved! Heck, it wasn't until college that I even started feeling comfortable speaking out in class, much less leading one! Now I suppose if I went to, say, England, I would be considered highly presumptuous with my habits of striking up a conversation with anyone who interests me. Damn having a proper introduction! Heck, I was on the phone with Ali as I checked out at a store the other day, and I made one mistake or another and was laughing at myself with the checker, and Ali accused me of flirting with her! I guess to some my familiar way of speaking with people could be perceived as such without that being my intent. I suppose I should be more conscious of that, as it could be dangerous in some situations, aye?


Anyway, what I was meaning to say is that often for me, choosing to be the fun, crazy wild one is a conscious effort. And in that, I'm having to face down a fear - of overcoming my shyness and choosing to feel confident in my actions rather than embarrassed. As Eleanor Roosevelt said about herself:

"
You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face… you must do the thing you think you cannot do."

So, for me, one of those things was dancing. I used to have to have some 'liquid courage' before I could 'loosen up' enough to get out onto the dance floor. However, that's not an option for me any more, now is it? Yet when I took the kids to the Bar Mitzvah a while back, I made sure to drag B out onto the dance floor as often as possible- embracing that experience and conquering my insecurity and fear of embarrassment. And we had a wonderful time as a result! I think that's what's behind the concept of the Glamour Pi Vacation Dance; it's a symbol of letting go and being crazy, regardless of who happens to be watching. You embrace a freedom when you can do it!

One of my favorite writers is Dave Gorman (I have a link to his blog here...) In his book, 'Are You Dave Gorman', there was a passage that I loved:

"The door to my room opened and Dave was there. Dancing. Alone.
All the time singing, he danced in and then danced out. I don't think it's a dance I've ever seen performed solo, but I immediately recognized it. I think it was the words to the song that gave it away.
'Let's all do the conga. The conga's getting longer. La la la la la, hoy! La la la la la la!'
If ever a conga wasn't getting longer it was that one. Still, it was a happy dance."

That's the person I want to be. I was going to say 'be remembered as', but that's wrong: I fully want to embrace that happy persona. As the yogi Rodney Yee would say, "Be the dance. Feel the happiness coursing through you."

Now, I know that's not always possible. I mean, everyone has their good days and bad days - you must have the down in order to appreciate the up. Not only that, but I have a condition in which I experience chronic pain, and it's only on my best days that the pain is gone, whereas even on good days it's there but manageable.

A friend sent me one of those sappy e-mail stories recently. This one was about an old blind man who went to a nursing home. The key takeaway for me was this:

Happiness is something you decide on ahead of time. It's a decision I make every morning when I wake up. I have a choice; I can spend the day in bed recounting the difficulty I have with the parts of my body that no longer work, or get out of bed and be thankful for the ones that do. Each day is a gift, and as long as my eyes open, I'll focus on the new day and all the happy memories I've stored away. Just for this time in my life. Old age is like a bank account. You withdraw from what you've put in.
Remember the five simple rules to be happy:
1. Free your heart from hatred.
2. Free your mind from worries.
3. Live simply.
4. Give more.
5. Expect less.

Now, I may not be old...yet! But I think my FM may make it easier for me to relate to that. After all, I go to support groups and hear others with the same condition bemoan their condition instead of doing what they can to fight it and improve their quality of life. It is a conscious effort.

Just like choosing to be happy, to be positive. May your heart be full of love, joy, peace, grace, and loving kindness.

Be well!

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Belated Avon Walk Thanks

Team Glamour Pi - starting the Avon Walk in San Francisco!

On July 11 & 12, Al & I participated in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer in San Francisco. Since then, life has been... well, life - crazy, turned on its head, etc. However, I still wanted to take the time to write about my experience and thank those who supported me as I took on that goal. Better late than never!

As I'd said on my official Avon Walk page, I'd been wanting to participate for a few years now, but I'd been a bit trepidatious about actually making the commitment. It was the support of so many others that enabled me to not only take the plunge, but to actually carry through, and to them I owe a world of thanks.

In order to participate in the event, each walker needed to raise a minimum of $1,800. Thanks to the generosity of friends and family, I was able to exceed that minimum, raising $1,875. I am grateful to all who contributed, whether it was a donation of $5 or $300. Especially given this economy, your generosity was much appreciated!

I'm also thankful for the people who supported me in other ways. My chiropractor, Dr. Billy Long, and my massage therapist, Suzannah Cseh, made sure my body was able to handle the beating I gave it, both before and after the Walk. The people over at Road Runner Sports got me outfitted with proper shoes and gear (love that gait analysis!) My brother-and sister-in-law, Jon & Nancy, made sure I was well-hydrated with my new Camelback. Jen Turk made sure I trained with repeated weekly hikes straight up Temescal Canyon - which gave me the confidence that I could take on the hills of San Francisco. I also had countless friends like Tropicana, Al, & Andrea who gave me the emotional support to keep going. Most importantly, though, was my family, who encouraged me to train and were so understanding about the time that training and the event consumed. Their love and support gave me the incentive and ability to keep going.

The actual Walk was simply amazing. I started out by heading out to Al's house a couple of days early so I could recover from the drive and then get in some added training. Staying at Chez Blake was like staying at a spa! Yummy, healthy food, great yoga, and walks into Mount Diablo - all with incredible views - certainly put me in the right frame of mind to start the walk.

Jackie's yoga with a view!

On Saturday morning, Al and I were up and at 'em early! It was pretty amazing to see the number of people gathered to walk, and then to do the math to realize how much money had been raised by the same group to fight breast cancer! There were over 2,800 participants who raised over $6 million! How wonderful was that?!?

The participants and the supporters were a sight to see! Al & I, as Team Glamour Pi, had on cute matching outfits, of course! Glamour Pi are beautiful from the inside out, after all! However, there were many teams that were wearing team 'costumes' more than 'uniforms'. The supporters took it even further! Each rest stop was sponsored by a group - from the Urban Dog Walkers (complete with pink floppy ears and brown dog noses), the Circus Group (all dressed as clowns), the California Cows (with a guy in cow costume - complete with udder), the Fantasy Island group (dressed in hula regalia), to the Hoedown group (in Western wear), etc.

In addition to the sponsored rest stops, there were the Motivators. There was a huge group of bikers on motorcycles who were there to provide safety support; one of them was positioned at each intersection, where they, in safety vests, would make sure the walkers got safely across the street (and not hit by cars or cyclists - the latter of which was the bigger threat, actually), and they'd give us route directions to make sure we didn't get off course. But they did so much more than that! Each biker provided music to keep us motivated (as headphones weren't allowed), cheered us on, and inspired us with their enthusiasm. It was pretty amazing to think that these men & women gave the same level of energy to every one of the 2,800 walkers on the route that day!

Oh, and not to be outdone by the rest-stop sponsors, the motivators decorated their bikes and themselves in honor of the event! It was great to see these big tough biker guys in black leather outfits but with bright pink beards or hair! One guy had a giant inflatable pink flamingo riding behind him, and another had a huge pink ribbon flag snapping in the wind. Our favorite though was the cute-but-tough biker chick who escorted us across a particularly busy intersection. She hollered at the cyclists who were turning left in front of us, shouting at them to "Move, move, move!!!" And then she turned to us with the sweetest smile, crooning, "Hello Avon Walkers!" As she waved us across the street, she turned her back to us and proceeded to lower her pants! However, under her black leathers were black shorts with "Go Avon Walkers" written in red across her derriere! Loved her!!! That laugh and enthusiasm got us through the next couple of miles!

There were other 'unofficial' motivators, too: people who just came out to cheer us on, people who handed us snacks (fresh fruit, followed by baby wipes for our hands, and then trash cans a few feet after that!) or people who were out and about, but saw us and honked their horns, clapped, or waved at us, yelling words of encouragement. We had to love Pajama Lady! Apparently, she's a Avon Walk San Francisco bastion - standing by the side of the course every year, wearing her flannel night gown, over-sized rhinestone sunglasses, and her boom box; she danced, cheered us on, and just seemed to be having so much fun! She must have burned more calories standing in place than we did on the entire walk! We couldn't help but get choked up when we'd see families sitting and waiting to support a walker - our favorite being the little girls who ran out to give their mommies a hug. As we neared the finish line, completely spent, aching, and struggling to make it that last little bit, the women in front of us we'd been keeping pace with were greeted by their husbands and babies. What a great sight to get us through to the end!

The Avon Foundation had us completely covered - from motivators, to rest stops, to first aid, to snacks to safety. The San Jose Police sent an entire group of bicycle police to patrol the route for us. What was great is that each cop seemed to keep pace with a certain group of walkers. I never got our officer's name (although I did get his picture), but he was fantastic! He'd encourage us, make us laugh, or tease us, but he was there with us the entire time - even dropping in on our yoga class at the end of the day!

Our officer & motivator!

I realized I haven't mentioned anything about the actual walk. Well, we started out at 7 am in Golden Gate Park. It was cold, foggy and a bit wet. All of the participants gathered in front of a huge stage where motivating speeches were given to ramp us up for the walk. Before we knew it, we were off! Al and I quickly moved near the front of the pack as we weaved our way around the Park and into the streets of San Francisco toward the Presidio on our way to the Golden Gate Bridge.

Jackie in Golden Gate Park.

Ali in Golden Gate Park

Crossing the bridge was a pretty amazing way to kick off the walk; it was completely enshrouded in fog, the pavement was wet, and the footing could be slippery if we weren't careful.

Jackie crossing the Golden Gate Bridge in the fog.

We crossed the bridge and then took the service road under it to Fort Baker. It was still very cold, wet and nasty, but we looked forward to the sunlight we could see peeking out through the clouds in Sausalito. We had a lovely walk along the Bay into Sausalito. By 10:30 am, we'd reached the 11.5 mile point (lunch), where Al and I were Walkers #130 and 131 out of 2,800 walkers. We'd reached the halfway point by 11:05. We slowed down a little bit after that as we wended through Mill Valley, especially as we had just picked up our lunches but hadn't eaten them as it was still too early for that. We carried our sack lunches with us for a while and stopped to eat them in Hauke Park while we watched the kids play on the playground there, but not in sight of the weird Chippendale-costumed yoga instructor! (I'm a bit torn about whether or not I wish I'd gotten a picture of him. What a sight!)

Jackie at Hauke Park. Fed, refreshed, and ready to go! Mile 14.6


Al & Jackie at Tamalpais High School - Mile 16.2

By 2:30, we had looped back to Sausalito, and we were still in the top 200 walkers (199 and 200 to be exact) with only 7 miles to go. It was at that point that we came across a fence near Martin Luther King Jr. Park in Sausalito which had been decorated with paper flowers and posters. It was so moving to see this fence, completely covered with messages for us Avon Walkers, spurring us on for the last few miles! Even if those kids weren't there in person, seeing those messages touched and motivated us! When we reached Fort Baker again, we stopped for some first aid (needing to clean our feet, reapply Body Glide, get a little moleskin, and put on clean socks), donned our long-sleeved shirts again, and headed for the Bridge. Those last four miles were the hardest!

Golden Gate Bridge is amazing. The second time we walked across it, we could see everything. We could also become wind-burned from the ocean gale that was blowing across the bay! It was quite challenging, as we'd already walked 22 miles, had to climb up the hill from Fort Baker just to get onto the bridge (including a lot of stairs), and now we had to contend with a biting wind as well as navigate around tourists! But we did it (and took some pretty pictures to boot!) It was encouraging to see the tents set up in the Avon Wellness Village in Crissy Field. We could see how close we were to the finish!

Ali on the Golden Gate Bridge. The white just to the left of her head is the Wellness Village.
Mile 24

As we crossed the Bridge - actually, the second I put my foot on solid ground again, my body cried out in protest. It was as if I'd hit a wall and my body wanted to know what the heck I was doing to it! I had exactly 1.3 miles left to go, but, as Lance Armstrong would say, I bonked. Al rallied me, and we kept on going, albeit at a slower pace. It didn't help that we were going downhill; I HATE going downhill! It gives me blisters on the balls of my feet and makes my knees hurt. I really had to struggle through that last 1.3 miles!
Smile through your pain! Just after I bonked.

Once we got onto Crissy Field, the supporters came out in force again. Everyone from the earlier rest stops seemed to be there; we saw the California Cows again, and some other familiar faces from earlier in the day.

Then, for some reason, we had to climb 5 steps from the dirt walkway up onto the grass field. They seemed insurmountable to me! My legs were like lead, and I didn't know if I could physically haul myself up them! Going forward was OK; I could manage that. But going up? Seriously? After 26.3 miles??? Honestly, we had less than 50 yards to go!!! I took a deep breath, and with Al behind me, took one step at a time. About step 3 I almost fell back, but managed to keep going forward. We could hear the music, we could see the arch, and we could hear people cheering!!! We'd done it!!!

Wait, was that an Urban Dog Walker???

You see, my sister Susan had told me that one of her friends, Rusty, was an Urban Dog Walker, and I'd been looking for him all day. So, with less than 10 yards to go between me and the arch, I walked up to the guy with the funny pink dog ears on and asked him if he was Rusty. Al had moved past me and turned around, mouth agape. What the heck was I doing??? We were almost to the finish line and I stopped to talk to someone??? REALLY?!? That's how exhausted I was; I simply wasn't thinking rationally. Sadly, the Urban Dog Walker was not Rusty; he wouldn't be on the route until tomorrow.

So, I sighed, straightened my shoulders, and rejoined Al. We felt the music pulsing in our chest. We couldn't hear anything but the cheers, and we walked under the arch to complete the marathon. It was 3:40, and we'd completed the marathon in just over 8 1/2 hours! Between us we'd walked 52.6 miles and raised $4,525 to fight breast cancer!

Can I hear a Woo Hoo!!!!Ali & Jackie at the Wellness Village! We did it!

But our adventure wasn't over! We still had the Wellness Village to explore! Yoga Journal was sponsoring a tent, and they had classes every hour on the hour, so we had to hurry and get our gear so we could clean up and attend a class to cool down. We made it with time to spare (as long as I didn't have to climb any more stairs!) and had a fantastic yoga class! Then we headed to the Spaaaa Zone to sit in a massage chair and put our feet up on a foot massager. It wasn't Suzannah (my massage therapist who gives great deep tissue massages), but it was enough to bring feeling back into my feet! Then we headed to dinner in the dining tent.

Unfortunately, the weather in Crissy Field was the same as it had been on the Golden Gate Bridge - clear, but with a bitingly cold wind! We were so overtired that the wind was just too much stimuli for us. For some reason, they weren't allowed to anchor down the tents for the Walkers who were sleeping there overnight, and the tents were starting to blow around. Also, they'd parked the shower trucks about a mile away from everything else; not very kind considering how many miles the Walkers had already logged for the day! So there were several people lining up for the bus to the host hotel with us who were very thankful that they'd booked a hotel room, just in case. Al had been very generous and booked us a room at the Westin Market Street. That shower and bed felt sooooo good!

We had a great night's sleep and woke, bright and early, to do some yoga before heading downstairs to walk to the shuttle to go back to Crissy Field. Al checked out of the hotel as I headed across the street to Starbucks to get Al some coffee and me some tea.

Unfortunately, before I'd even crossed the street, I was limping. My right foot was acting up. Since that day's half-marathon was supposed to be entirely in the City, up and down hills on sidewalks (as opposed to on dirt trails as some of the previous day's walk had been), there was no way my foot was going to let me complete the walk. Al and I made the decision to save my foot rather than push it and injure myself further.

We caught the first train back to Al's house in Walnut Creek, took a nap, and enjoyed the rest of our day together. I made a quick call to my sister Susan and arranged to drive to Monterey to visit her that night to get a professional medical opinion about my foot. She thought it was tendonitis, prescribed ice, elevating it, and taking pain meds for a week. I followed her advice and was back on my feet within 3 days.

So, I may not have completed my entire goal - a marathon and a half - but I learned some good lessons from my experience. The important part about participating wasn't that I complete the entire marathon and a half, or even that I finish in the top 300 of 2,800 walkers. It was that I took on the commitment, followed through, and carried it out to the best of my ability. We often say that we are our own harshest critic. I think that is definitely true. I realized it was OK for me to complete what I could, as opposed to pushing myself to injury. With my FM, it's important that I listen to and honor my body and its limitations, and sometimes that's as much of an accomplishment as completing some Herculean task. I made a financial commitment, I met it, and I trained to walk a marathon! Four years ago I couldn't walk for more than 20 minutes without being exhausted; now I'd walked 26.3 miles in 8 1/2 hours! What an accomplishment!

And lest we forget, this is why we walk: The American Cancer Society estimates that 20,080 cases of breast cancer were diagnosed in California in 2008, and that 4,150 lives were lost to the disease. For two days, 2,800 people walked as one. We walk for a cure!

Monday, April 27, 2009

Hitting the pavement!

I seem to keep running into some similar themes in my life lately. I was thinking some more about Involution and remembered another post from the Yeah Dave Yoga blog I follow.

I was thinking about what Dave said in his intro story. In 1995, there were no cell phones or computers at our fingertips. That made it easier to be in the moment and enjoy each other. Not that we don't do that now, but we have to make the consious effort to put the cell phone on 'silent' or (a personal problem for me) take the blue tooth out of my ear.

But when was the last time you just laid on the grass and looked at the sky?

Wow! Haven't done that in ages!

I thought about my day on Saturday. I had insomnia the night before, so between falling asleep late and having to get up early to take my son to his drama competition, I only got 5 1/2 hours of sleep. Instead of working out at 8, I cheered up a couple of friends on Facebook until I was yawning so much that the tears were running freely. I had to go back to bed. Then, of course, by 11:30 I woke up starving, which meant I needed to finish cleaning the kitchen from the dinner I'd hosted the night before (putting away all the clean dishes, wiping down the counters, sweeping the floor, putting everything else away) before I could make breakfast, etc. So it was just one of those days when all my best-laid plans went to waste.

However, I did spend some good time with my daughter looking over her old photo albums. We even broke out the VHS tape of her first haircut and my son's 3rd birthday at Disneyland. The Storybook Land Canal boats was so much fun to watch! D and B were sitting up front on the 'deck', and he was excitedly shouting, "Look! One piggy house! Two piggy house! Three piggy house! (for the 3 little pigs) Oh!! Aladdin over there! Look! Over there! Hi Aladdin!! (waving furiously) And there a house... and there a house.... and there a house!!! Oh! Pick-ah-no-key-no!! (Pinocchio)" etc. It was so darn cute!

All of my reminiscing was inspired by a friend's post; his new baby smiled for the first time.

Later on, I did wind up dragging my sorry butt out of the house, taking an hour-long walk from 7 to 8. I was really glad I did.

I realized that it's so easy to sit inside on days when we don't feel well - or at least not up to snuff. Especially if the physical is mixed together with the emotional. And heck, in this economy, who isn't stressed and mildly depressed (if not more so!)

With the sun setting, I was of a mind to just put in a DVD and exercise at home, but I MADE myself go outside. It was a beautiful day, and it was a lovely evening as a result. As I walked, I found my mood lightening and my head clearing as I drew in the clear evening air and exhaled my worries and tension. It was so nice! I noticed the coolness of the air on my skin and the tissues of my nose. I could smell the heady perfume of the flowers as they began to close for the night. I also smelled the barbecues as people grilled their dinners. I noticed the vibrant colors of the flowers in people's yards - many of the annuals freshly planted. Hearing the birds call as they went to their nests for the night, or the occasional trickle of a fountain. Seeing an owl set off to hunt. Greeting neighbors with a smile and a nod. Watching a dad and his kids play hide-and-seek at dusk. It was a great walk!

And instead of following instructions on an exercise video, my mind was free to focus on me. To feel what was going on in my body as I pushed my stride to match the beat of the music. To count my steps for my inhales and exhales. Feeling the energy course through me. And then, to think.

I realized that just getting outside was so important. There was so much I saw and experienced on that walk that I would have missed if I was stuck working out inside. As it is, I do most of my exercise by myself, but that doesn't mean I have to be isolated, too. And even more importantly, I recognized the importance of being 'out in the world' rather than curled up in my cave. The economy is bad, things are stressful, moods are sour; which are all good reasons for us to want to lick our wounds instead of venturing out into the world. However, by getting outside, I saw so much to be thankful for. I was able to experience so much more than if I'd been inside. And even more importantly, I was able to let go of so many of the negative thoughts and feelings I'd had all day.

I started out my walk full of worries: all the things I still had left on my to-do list, everything I'd put off doing which made me feel so much further behind. But then I realized that what I had done that day was valuable. I nurtured my body by getting the sleep it so clearly needed. I nurtured my relationship with my daughter by sitting and talking to her about my childhood and hers. I enjoyed time with my family watching Heroes and discussing plot lines - losing ourselves in the story instead of worrying about what was going on in our lives. And I was taking care of me.

So as I walked, I turned my inner dialogue from negatives into positives. Praising myself and putting my 'needs' into positive terms. Not begging the universe for help, but rather announcing my ability and confidence to do what must be done. To free myself from the paralyzing fear which so many who have a chronic condition feel, by remembering that I can and have done so much. I am a strong woman. I am a positive spirit. I will be OK. I will be BETTER than OK. Life is good, and I will enjoy it instead of letting it slip away, day by day, worrying about what I can't or haven't done. I can establish a plan and follow through - even if it's just on a daily basis. Knowing that it's OK if I can't do everything each day; the mere fact that I've gone to bed with a clear plan in my head for the following day, being able to do even part of what I wanted, is better than having no plan to conquer the pile of things I've been putting off. I'll feel better when I accomplish a task or two a day, and if I keep at it, eventually that pile will dwindle. I'm not so delusional to think that it will disappear completely, but it will get smaller and become more manageable.

The first thing is to re-start Debra Norville's book "Thank You Power" and to crack open my gratitude journal and put it to use. I can choose to focus on the negative, or I can return to the happiest days I've had in recent years by focusing on my daisies every day. Involution, appreciation, and reflection.

I can do it!

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Involution. Gimme some!

The other day I was getting caught up on blogs I like to follow but, well, haven't been following very well lately. One of my favorites is Yeah Dave Yoga by Dave Romanelli. He's a great story teller, with a great sense of humor, and he always has a really good insight to go with whatever he's discussing.

I read a bunch of funny posts. I laughed so hard at his entry about people who jog in place that I was continually doubled over in laughter. I thought it amusing to discover when reading his analysis of how people hug that, of course, I'm a yoga hugger. My sister Susan is a knuckle-curve hugger - she lifts you up at the end of her hugs and squeezes you so hard that all the breath gets pushed out of your lungs. And the 3rd hug... well, that would be my husband. He says his hugs only have 2 taps at the end (to signify "I'm done" because he doesn't like people invading his personal space.) But really? Talk about opposites attracting! A NFW hug from my own husband?!? Really??

I laughed right along, reading his past posts. Until I got to a post about a yogic way to approach the economy.

Now, I thought about taunting some of my Republican friends with this article, simply to see if I could get the vein in their forehead to throb. (It's a mutual game we play. They don't like to debate with me so much as Dem-bait me.) That is, until I got to the part about Involution.

That's when I stopped and said, "Woah!"

Now, dictionary.com defines involution as 'involvement'. Yeah Dave took that to another place, one in which we decide our level of involvement in things by knowing when to say 'no'. When to NOT be involved because it doesn't benefit our greater good.

I'd never heard that term before, but I know that saying 'no' is one of the things that I have great difficulty with. Whether it's helping out at school (being on the PTA stressed me out to no end! Yet I did it... twice!), going to events with my extended family because I should rather than having them be positive and enjoyable, or keeping people in my life because it's polite as opposed to beneficial to me in any way.

When I shared this with Al, this was her reply:
I've often felt that there were too many elements in my life that I've been making room for that don't really add much value; yet, to the extent that I'm not ridding my life of them and moving on is the same extent to which I'm preventing room for something more gratifying, more valuable, more enjoyable, etc.

And hearing Al's insight made the whole thing gel with me. I mean, if we continually say 'yes' to things that don't benefit us, then how will we have room for opportunities that WILL add something to our lives? If we can de-clutter our lives of meaningless or, even worse, harmful things, then we can open up for things/people/opportunities that have the potential of being great for us!

I took this idea to my fibromyalgia support meeting this month. So often, people with FM are 'caregivers' not 'caretakers' - meaning we give care to others but find it difficult to take care from others. We find it so hard to say no, because we're people pleasers. As as result, we're often neglecting our own needs, and our bodies suffer. I've long thought that having FM was our bodies secret way of MAKING us stop and take care of ourselves. I talked with my peers at group, and I hope this idea took root:

We need to learn to say 'no', so that we're available to say 'yes'!

It's all a matter of deciding upon our level of involvement based on what will benefit our greater good.

Involution: going on my 'word of the day' calendar (if I had one!)

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

It Makes Me Feel Like Dancing!

I've been neglecting my blog because in November, I found Facebook. It ate my Christmas (I still have yet to send out my Christmas cards), and it consumes about an hour every day (conservatively.) Hey, living and working with my husband, side by side, every day, in a teeny, tiny house would make me go stir crazy if I didn't have any outside social contacts! Plus, it's cool to see all the people from my childhood and find out what they're up to now. (Yeah, I guess I'm one of those annoying 'old people' who have taken over the site, making it no longer hip.)

Anyway, about a month ago, I was tagged on a great note called "Me... according to my kids." The premise was to ask your child a bunch of questions about you and record what they said... unedited. I read the comments made by the much-younger kids of my friends, and I wondered what my teens would say. B participated, and I was floored by some of her answers.

One of my favorites was this:
If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for?
"It will probably be for inventing the Vacation Dance - the most annoying dance on earth that parents can use as a secret weapon to embarrass their kids and scar them for life. Not just the vacation dance, several dances, so that you can embarrass them numerous times!"

While she said it with a half-smile, my daughter is known to be brutally honest, and she pulled no punches on that one. Even my niece (who is 22) has remarked on my random dancing. And I guess that these two comments together really made me step back and wonder if I really was becoming 'known' for this particular behavior, and whether that was a good thing or not.

Now, as a Glamour Pi, I try to 'be in the moment' and really feel any positive emotions without constraint. I've mentioned before how Al and I came up with the Vacation Song, and later, the Vacation Dance to go along with it. The rule regarding the Vacation Dance is that any time you're on vacation and say the words, "I'm on vacation", you must do the Vacation Dance - regardless of where you are and who is around. The premise here is to just let go of your inhibitions and have fun - because you're on vacation! I love it, and do it as often as I can. (It's a 'cabbage patch' done while singing our Vacation Song.)

I guess the practice of losing my inhibitions has spread, though, and I now have a dance for just about anything:

The Birthday Dance was born when Al and I went to Disneyland to celebrate our birthdays last year and found that housekeeping had decorated our rooms with balloons, chocolates, birthday hats and autographed pictures of the Disney Princesses.
This is Al, doing the Birthday Dance, and below is why she was doing it.
See how easy we are to please? We were screaming and giggling like tweens!

The Pretty Dance is a kind of waltz to "I Feel Pretty" from "West Side Story". This is usually done after a bit of pampering, such as a trip to the nail or hair salon.


And the Happy Dance, well, that's just something I do whenever there's something special to be happy about. It's usually accompanied by a "Woo Hoo!" or two. (Alas, no pics of either the Pretty Dance or the Happy Dance have yet been captured. This Silly Dance, which Al captured in Tahoe, is about as close as we've gotten so far.)


Last week, I found a new dance to add to my repertoire.

I was reading Wil Wheaton's blog and read this: "You like the stories. This makes me so happy I want to do the Snoopy dance."


I guess that's what my Happy Dance is, but the Snoopy Dance has a little jumping one-two-three foot action going instead of my stationary-foot hip-wagging version. The arms and hands are still the same. Oh, and for Snoopy, you have to add the head-up head-down thing to alternate with the jumpy one-two-three foot action. You'd have to see it to understand.

While that describes the physical aspect of the dance, I started thinking about the psychological aspect of it. I think Wil's reference to the Peanuts cartoons was the answer. These kids are just so darn full of happiness that they simply cannot physically contain it. The joy has bubbled up and over, spilling out of every pore. How amazing!

How wonderful would it be for all of us to embrace that kind of joy in our lives! It's like the way my great-nieces can occupy themselves laughing at nothing together. Or the way my cat can just go all crazy and go running around the house at top speed for no reason at all. As adults, we so often are the observers of such joy, but our 'dignity' prevents us from actually participating. As we watch, we smile and sigh, but why?

Why not join in? How freeing it can be to actually skip, just because it's fun! Maybe that's why I enjoy my great-nieces so much; because they give me the excuse to be so silly! I can skip around the zoo with impunity, as long as I have Care on my shoulders. But if I did it alone, people would assume I'm crazy. And how sad is that: to not do a thing that would bring us such joy, just because of what someone else would think. Is that the grown-up version of peer pressure? After all, it isn't like skipping is illegal or socially unacceptable for ethical reasons. It's "just not done." How very sad. In comparison, every day we see people who are angry or in bad moods - swearing, driving like jerks, stomping around with sullen faces. Why is it so much easier to repress the positive emotions? And isn't that far more damaging than trying to keep our tempers under control?

I say let's let the silliness out when we can. Embrace the joy and let it bubble over. Smile, laugh, give a complement. Spread the joy. Heck, in today's world, we sure could use it! Who knows, while I may not become famous for inventing the Vacation Dance, maybe I'll become famous for encouraging people to let their joy show. (Or, as my son develops his comedy routine, maybe I will become famous for inventing the Vacation Dance - as a part of his act! However, the parental power of embarrassment is the subject for another post.)

"Feel the Woo Saah! And embrace the joy!"

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

"I know someone else with Fibromyalgia..."

DISCLAIMER: This post isn't my usual upbeat, happy, ruminations. It's of a more serious nature. Actually, it's more of a rant.

I have fibromaylgia syndrome (or FMS, aka FM.) I have quite a few friends who have been diagnosed, as well. Now, some of these people I met in my FM support group, but others were my friends long before either of us were diagnosed. In fact, some of them have been my friends since childhood.

One of the biggest complaints/questions I hear at my support group is how to make friends and families understand our condition. Many of my friends are having a tough time communicating what they're going through in a constructive and meaningful way.

One of the wors things anyone can say to a person with FM is, "I know someone else with Fibromaygia, and they..." - followed by some wonderful thing that person has accomplished with their life. Commenting about how well other people with FM cope just ticks me off; I think it's the same for everyone with FM. Now, sometimes those kinds of comments are well-meaning and hopeful, but many times it just comes off sounding like "they can do such-and-such, why can't you?" making the person with FM feel even more helpless and dejected. Especially if it's a comment which is used as a weapon by a spouse or significant other.

At one of my FM support group meetings, a woman was talking about a conversation she had with a friend or coworker or some such. The gist of the conversation was that the person she was talking to had a sister-in-law with FM who was coping beautifully and even training to run a marathon. The woman with FM responded, "Well, bully for your sister-in-law!"

I think we've all run up against people who try to compare us to someone else they know with FM. Heck, I know some people in our FM group resent me because I've made more progress than many - my friend Cindy included! But even I have had my father-in-law and his new wife tell me to go out and get a job, etc., because someone else they know has FM and has never missed a day of work in his/her life.

All I can say to anyone who makes these kinds of insensitive remarks is this: FM is a very unique condition. The symptoms and triggers are unique to every individual who is diagnosed with it. Hence the treatment and response time for everyone is going to be different. It's like any disease, in that, if you catch it early enough, you can stem the tide and get the upper hand on it quickly. However, with the difficulty of diagnosing it (whether because of the cyclic nature and vagueness of the symptoms or because of physicians who just won't listen or believe that it is a real medical condition), it can take YEARS to diagnose, meaning that it takes all that much longer to get a handle on the pain and find an effective treatment. After years of having your body on that downward spiral of pain, it can take just as long to work your way up the spiral to good health again.

I would also ask these commenters how well they really know how these 'other people with FM' are doing? Sure, our spouses have seen the worst with us; they see us in our worst and most vulnerable moments. Do they see these 'other people' in theirs? I know that when I was first diagnosed, I was so relieved in many ways because I finally had a name for the beast that had been plaguing me for so many years. I wrote an e-mail to all my nearest and dearest friends; the response I got was shocking. Not that they were unsupportive or unbelieving; simply that most of these people who I'd known for years had NEVER seen me have a bad day! I took a beat and thought about that. Sure enough, I had to admit that I never let anyone see me on anything but a good day. On the bad days, I'd curl up in my cave, licking my wounds by myself, until I felt better and able to face the world with a cheery countenance and a bounce in my step. It's our nature to withdraw when we're feeling poorly. Honestly, when we have the flu, we don't go out in public; it's no different with FM, but mostly because we simply CAN'T get out the door! One day I was surprised by a friend, and I came to the door in my pj's and disheveled hair. She actually took a step back, because I was always neat as a pin, even to work out! But that day I couldn't hide the pain I was in, and she couldn't help but notice it.

All that to say, it's unfair for anyone to say they know how others deal with their FM, because unless that person is really in their life, living side-by-side with them, they have NO IDEA how they really feel. All they know is the face these people put on for the outside world.

Sometimes I think that we do our friends and loved ones a disservice. We try so hard to fight our FM. We try so hard to let other people only see our 'good' days. We try so hard to be positive that we don't want to expose ourselves (and our partners) to other people with FM who are in a worse situation than we are. Have they sat in on one of the regular monthly support group meetings? You know, the ones that usually turn into a bitch-fest? Have they seen the people who can't sit still for more than 20 minutes and need to go stretch in the back of the room? Have they seen the people who have tried drug, after drug, after drug and are still in excruciating pain? Heck, have they taken the National Fibromyalgia Association's clothespin challenge?

Do they understand in any way how difficult it can be to be in CHRONIC PAIN every day. To never know when you wake up each morning whether you're going to be able to move or not? How frustrating it can be to forget basic vocabulary, much less know that your once-sharp mind can't remember where you put your car keys unless you have a ritual you follow like clockwork so they're never misplaced?

In short, have they tried to see this condition from the perspective of an FM patient AT ALL?

Part of what is so frustrating about FM for me is knowing how much FM has changed me. People described me (and still do on my good days) as exuberant, energetic, and vivacious. I'm up, positive, and happy - almost annoyingly so at times. When I'm involved in something, I'm giving it 110% and nothing seems to slow me down or get in my way. Heck, I was someone with so much energy that I'd run up the down escalator in the mall at the end of a long day's work, just because I could!

But FM has taken that from me. Sure, some days I can still rally myself and be my old me. But what my extended family and friends don't see is the recovery time I have to build into my schedule afterwords. I can still do a 'full day' (from 7 am to 11 pm) at Disneyland, but I'll sleep most of the following day, if not two. I love the days when I can run around with my grand-nieces at the zoo - forgetting my FM for a day. But I'll start the day with yoga before I leave the house, and you can bet I'll be taking my pain pills that night and making sure I practice yoga daily for days afterwords. I'll drive my parents to family functions hours away (after I've done yoga, taken my pain meds, and slapped a heat pack on my low back), but I'll fight back the tears of pain as I drive, just waiting to get to our destination so I can let the joy of being with family wash over me and drive the pain away from the forefront of my consciousness.

In other words, we can do ourselves or our partners a disservice by trying to be the hero. While we don't need to overwhelm them by constantly complaining about every little (or big) muscle spasm or electric current of pain that shoots through our bodies, we do need to communicate. If they're truly going to support us, I think they need to be able to understand and empathize with us. They need to see what the 'real face' of our FM is, and understand just how hard we're trying to fight it.

After all, I'm only 38, and I have a lot of life ahead of me. I've had FM since I was 17, even if I was only diagnosed 4 years ago. I'm bound and determined to be a person with FM, not to let FM have me. I'm grateful and blessed to have family who is loving, understanding, and supportive. And I wish the same for everyone else I know with FM. The reality, however, is far different, as up to 80% of all marriages in which a spouse has FM end in divorce. FM is a chronic condition I'll be trying to manage for the rest of my life. The good news is it isn't terminal. So if I'm not going to die from it, I won't let it take over my life.

My point here is, before you make some comment or comparison to a person with FM, ask yourself: Would you say something like that to a person with cancer or diabetes? FM is every bit as real as any other chronic condition. Yet unlike people with cancer or diabetes, because FM is so 'new', patients with FM have to convince their families, friends, general public, and sometimes even their own physicians, that Fibromyalgia is a REAL MEDICAL CONDITION. So please, think about what you say to a person with FM. Make sure it's said in a loving and supportive way. Educate yourself about the syndrome. We're having a tough enough time fighting FM. We shouldn't have to fight our family and friends, too.