Some days, the words don’t come.
And I write anyway.
Discombobulated, unrelated, random.
A commitment to myself is a serious thing.
Something I won’t give up without a massive fight.
So today, this is enough.
And I pray, tomorrow, the words will come.
When you’ve been wholly focused on one task for over 24 hours, some funny things start to happen.
Your brain stops focusing as easily, and you find that you’re sillier than you’d typically be.
How do I know this? I was recently asked to serve with the young women (ages 12-18) in our church congregation. This weekend we’re reading The Book of Mormon (531 pages). It’s been a challenge for us. Not all of us have been present the whole time (raising my hand), but there have already been some apparent blessings from pushing to reach a goal that really takes some effort.
*Unity. Unity comes when you share an experience and get vulnerable with how you’re feeling. I know I’ve seen girls sharing much more than meals and snacks as they have shared their time and energy reading toward this goal.
*Peace. In a world that is chaotic and loud, I find that the moments when the girls have understood what they are reading, a peace has distilled on the entire group. With about 30 of us, that’s significant.
*Laughter. We won’t forget the chapters read in accents, the chairs that have tipped over, the funny phrases and so much more. There is a bond that is born is such silliness. It won’t be soon forgotten.
*Answers. Immersing ourselves in a spirit filled environment has allowed specific verses stand out to me in ways that I know they are answers to my own questions and concerns. I feel very, very grateful for those moments.
Conversations. Suffice it to say God puts the people we need in our lives. Things people share or say, moments where tears have come to my eyes, these are the “things of the heart”. I’m so grateful there are people who surround me that I can share those moments with.
Any one of these things would be worth enduring for. To have them all is far more than I anticipated. Perhaps I can make it these last few hours. ;)
I couldn’t tell you exactly when I added it to my email signature…(which led me down a LLOOOONNNNGGG rabbit hole). I found it for the first time on an email dated 7-5-2012. Prior to that point my signature had read “Making the world a little brighter in our neck of the woods”, which was appropriate because we actually lived in the woods in New Mexico. I think I was looking for something shorter and more succinct after our move to Arizona. Something I could say easily and that I could teach my children to live.
The result: Do Good. Be Kind. was added to the end of every email communication I sent out. And it began to change me. It made me stop and pause before I made a decision, a comment, a judgement. And that pause often allowed time for a change in my attitude and perspective.
My kids would all tell you it’s what I say most, but I hope they would also tell you that it’s what I live even more.
That’s the purpose of a life’s mantra.
Today, I showed up. It wasn’t complicated and I didn’t spend all day thinking about how to do it. I was recently called to serve the young women in our church congregation, and 2 of them were in a play tonight. It would have been so easy to skip it. My list of things to do is long, and there won’t be enough time tomorrow to get everything done. I put those things aside, because I truly believe that everyone needs to know that they have someone cheering them on. Now, let’s be honest, both of these girls have amazing families that showed up for them too…and I sincerely doubt that they’ll remember I was there. It doesn’t matter. Their smiles and hugs as I told them “good job” were enough for me. They’re doing an amazing job at navigating life…and any way that I can support them in their interests and successes, I’ll do. So I’ll keep showing up. And making people smile. Can you do the same?
Why is it that taking care of myself feels like a daunting task? I've been proactive for over 10 years in the self-care department, really digging for answers and looking for someone (anyone?!) who could give me direction as to how best navigate my myriad of health issues. I'm over 50, and it finally doesn't feel selfish to be truly taking care of myself. (Hallelujah.) If anyone who is younger than 50 is reading this, here is your gentle reminder that taking care of yourself is truly what will allow you to take care of others as well. So what does self care look like today?
Today, it looked like getting myself to (yet another) Primary Care Physician's office to see if, perhaps, they would be a good fit for me. (They seem to be). I don't need placating words or a myriad of medicines to mask my real issues. I've been searching for a doctor who really listens to me as an individual and doesn't treat me like a number in the queue. I'm crossing my fingers I've landed in a place where we can start finding answers.
Learning to become an advocate for myself has been one of the positive side effects of searching for my team of health care providers. Speaking up, even when it's uncomfortable, not scheduling another appointment with a doctor who didn't listen, or doing research on my own so that I am armed with information to discuss with my doctors have been a few of the ways that I have advocated differently than I did when I was younger.
I now have a list of 3 specialists to see, on top of the one I saw last week. That's a LOT of appointments. And I'm telling myself it's ok. The goal is that I'll be a healthier, happier, and more functional after advocating for myself.
Here I am, 4 months post covid. And I'm still exhausted. I'm in a forced season of slow down and stillness. And while I'd like to say I'm handling it well, there are days when I wonder if that is true, or simply a figment of my imagination.
(Written in January 2022)
Reality #1: My body hurts. Often. In odd places. It makes things like walking up and down the stairs a challenge, and workouts almost a form of torture. My headaches this past week have been almost constant. It would be easy to surrender and just lie in my bed everyday. And...I am fighting. Every day. I am working to move my body in some form of exercise or in errands (even when almost every time it brings me to tears). I have to continue to believe that my body, at some point, will recover and I will be able to function without excessive pain again.
Reality #2: Physical and mental exhaustion combined are an extremely challenging combination. I have found that spending time on the computer brings the mental fatigue to the forefront. I was hired to work with a company by the name of Virtual Crown in July (prior to covid) and have never been able to complete a session (averaging 3-4 hours) due to my mental fatigue. After an hour or so my mental connections seem to glitch and "short". Words and complete thoughts are hard to communicate. My other job (subbing for seminary and institute), while not as challenging mentally (seminary teaching is repeated content/institute just 1 hour), is exhausting physically. Standing, walking around a classroom and speaking at the same time is wholly draining. I feel the energy leave within about 15-20 minutes and sweat will pour down my back as I push past those limits.
Reality #3: Being so still and literally struggling to do the very basics has led me to question my worth and value. I have been repeatedly reminded by the Lord that I have value, EVEN IF I can do nothing. He loves me. And choosing Him and His path is enough. My life and patterns of behavior have so long been caught up in the busyness of my tasks however, that I feel like I have stared into depths of darkness over the last 3 months especially. I wonder if I still have a place in this world, and if it would be easier if I had just died from covid. I'm not suicidal...let me be clear. This is just a long, long, long road with seemingly no answers.
Facing realities means I'm being brutally honest. With honesty can come clarity. That is what I am praying for.
