Ten thoughts about Thanksgiving 2015:
1. I still grieve that hysterical illness has stolen from me the ability to make a feast and create a holiday tradition for myself and my family.
2. In the renewed awareness of racial tensions in the United States, there is some talk about the racist origins of the Thanksgiving narratives. I wonder, however, if anyone even thinks about those stories once graduating from kindergarten and those hand-tracing turkeys. America absolutely needs to recognize our inherently racist society and our genocidal history (and current events) but I doubt if Thanksgiving is the best, or even a particularly relevant, talking point.
3. Black Friday has eclipsed too many Thanksgiving traditions and I think that is a spiritual loss.
4. With the expansion of Halloween from a simple children's holiday in the local neighborhood and the ever earlier Christmas creep, Thanksgiving has become merely a pre-Christmas, food bonanza to calorie up for the last mad, month-long, shopping sprint.
5. I miss when the televised Macy's parade was actually a parade and not pan-shots of balloons in between song and dance numbers from a variety of non-parade locations.
6. My oldest kid went off to college and this is my first year to get excited about family coming home for the holiday. She came home Tuesday night and I'm still not sure how I feel about that.
7. Our menu has only one vegetable and it's strictly a concession to my irrational love for green bean casserole with fried onions. Both the nutritionist and the chef in me are wincing.
8. Thanksgiving is the one time I do like living in Arizona because it's always nice weather to eat dinner with the windows and doors wide open and the sunshine streaming in. Sometimes we're even motivated enough to build a fire outside in the evening and sit around drinking and burning jacaranda deadfall. Mmmm, I love that smell.
9. Whenever I see A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving, I wonder why all the white kids are seated together on one side of the table and the lone black kid is by himself on the other.
10. I pray for enough community and compassion in the world today that everyone could have abundant food, shelter, security, and friendship to celebrate.
Showing posts with label 10 Things. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 10 Things. Show all posts
Thursday, November 26, 2015
Thursday, November 19, 2015
10 Things on Thursday: Reintroduction
It's been years since I kept this blog up regularly. Crises in physical and mental health developed both for me and for family members and posting didn't seem important. Or possible.
In the spirit of new beginnings, here are ten things to introduce myself to new, returning, or long-time readers:
1. My hysterical illness finally got a few official and semi-official diagnoses, including Myalgic Encephalomyelitis, Migraine and several other kinds of headaches, Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, Fibromyalgia, Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia, Thyromegaly, traumatic brain injury, Temporal-Mandibular Joint Syndrome, PTSD, and Dissociative Disorder. There are probably a few others that have got overlooked. For example, I'm fairly certain I have Sjrogren's Syndrome, Dysautonomia, and an autoimmune thyroid disorder.
2. Medical professionals, conventional and holistic, have been uniformly unhelpful at best and downright damaging far too often. I've lost count of how many and what kinds of doctors I've seen. I found the NAET therapist extremely helpful until we uncovered some deep trauma layers in my psyche and abruptly we were outside the therapist's comfort zone, although he refused to admit any such thing. I stayed with him for months longer than I should have. The Doctor of Oriental Medicine, who used acupuncture, reiki, and other energy modalities, did the most good, not especially curative but kept me alive and functioning while I slowly found my own healing protocols. She was useful for acute care as well and I stayed with her for three years, only recently moving on. Her business partner, a chiropractor, was enormously helpful as well but less for her chiropractic than for her weird energy work--the name of which I never can remember. Through her work, the bones in my skull and face shifted significantly, allowing some healing of nearly fifty year old injuries, and reducing TMJ and migraine symptoms a great deal. I don't see her regularly anymore, only a few times a year for "tune-ups." My yoga teacher also facilitated a lot of healing simply by the kind of environment she created during Restorative and Yin classes.
3. Surrendering to the illness rather than fighting against it has been an important and ongoing aspect of creating health, if not curing any disease. Taking to my bed and staying there, admitting to myself and others when "normal" was beyond my capacity, learning to accept and live within the new limits allows me actually to accomplish a few things in a way that wasting all my energy on trying to be who and what I used to be could never do. Submitting to illness as a teacher, an agent of grace, rather than a demon to be destroyed, changes the whole paradigm.
4. Therapies and therapeutics that have produced real and sustainable curative results for me include shamanic journeying, homeopathic adrenal supplementation, constitutional homeopathy (self-prescribed, practitioners were not helpful), Low Dose Naltrexone, the Fuck It Diet, aggressive resting and following a heart-rate based exertion program, meditation and chanting, and Restorative and Nidra yoga.
5. I am still committed to finding a place in the Christian community. I still think in Christian. Christian metaphor still resonates in my soul in a way no other tradition's stories or vocabulary does. I will never be a conventional Christian, being a heretic is as much a part of me as being a Christian, maybe more. I am, however, determined to forge or find a space to bring together the ancient traditions of Christianity with modern applications. We needn't be syncretic with Buddhism or neopaganism (such syncretism isn't wrong but isn't necessary) to find meditation, magic, mysticism, contemplation, or apotheosis.
6. To that end, between relapses last year, I began facilitating a chant class at my yoga studio. I had to drop it last spring but I hope to revive it locally and in person as my health permits, online in podcasts or Skype groups if it does not (and even if it does). Ideally, I'd like to be able to facilitate chant groups in hospitals and VA centers for the very ill, the disabled, the traumatized. I see its importance for spiritual healing far outweighing its utility for the trendy yoga studio seeker.
7. My kids have grown up since my earlier writing. I'm no longer homeschooling except in the most legal and supervisory definition. My older daughter chose to attend public high school, graduated with honors and moved across the country to go to a private liberal arts college where she continues to swim competitively and aims eventually to physical therapy school. My younger daughter attends community college and is dual enrolled at cosmetology school. I still supervise her registration, sign her enrollment forms, and help as requested with papers (dyslexia is still a challenge), but I am no longer directly involved. She's also been a professional actor for several years. It still seems strange to think that what was such a huge part of my life is now over, but I also heave a sigh of relief to be finished. I don't regret it for an instant--and, thankfully, neither of my kids does either--but it was a lot of work for which I'm glad no longer to be responsible.
8. Due to injury and illness, I can no longer read books. At least 95% of my reading is through the Kindle app on my iPhone. While I am deeply grateful to have that option, since I dislike audio books, I miss the smell, the look, the feel of holding a book in my hands. I miss shopping at used bookstores and trolling library stacks. And I really hate paying the digital prices for books. I thought I spent a lot of money on books until I started buying ebooks at retail prices--criminey!
9. Chronic illness is isolating and annihilating. Even for persons not housebound or confined to bed as I usually am, illness forces an identity change. It demands consideration of existential questions of meaning, individual value, community, and purpose. Whether one faces these questions head on or ducks continuously to the side of them, they change a person. Chronic illness means facing one's death in a society that spends a great deal of effort to deny death.
10. Writing this post taxed me so much, I can't even think of a number ten. I'll just hit publish and have a little lie-down.
In the spirit of new beginnings, here are ten things to introduce myself to new, returning, or long-time readers:
1. My hysterical illness finally got a few official and semi-official diagnoses, including Myalgic Encephalomyelitis, Migraine and several other kinds of headaches, Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, Fibromyalgia, Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia, Thyromegaly, traumatic brain injury, Temporal-Mandibular Joint Syndrome, PTSD, and Dissociative Disorder. There are probably a few others that have got overlooked. For example, I'm fairly certain I have Sjrogren's Syndrome, Dysautonomia, and an autoimmune thyroid disorder.
2. Medical professionals, conventional and holistic, have been uniformly unhelpful at best and downright damaging far too often. I've lost count of how many and what kinds of doctors I've seen. I found the NAET therapist extremely helpful until we uncovered some deep trauma layers in my psyche and abruptly we were outside the therapist's comfort zone, although he refused to admit any such thing. I stayed with him for months longer than I should have. The Doctor of Oriental Medicine, who used acupuncture, reiki, and other energy modalities, did the most good, not especially curative but kept me alive and functioning while I slowly found my own healing protocols. She was useful for acute care as well and I stayed with her for three years, only recently moving on. Her business partner, a chiropractor, was enormously helpful as well but less for her chiropractic than for her weird energy work--the name of which I never can remember. Through her work, the bones in my skull and face shifted significantly, allowing some healing of nearly fifty year old injuries, and reducing TMJ and migraine symptoms a great deal. I don't see her regularly anymore, only a few times a year for "tune-ups." My yoga teacher also facilitated a lot of healing simply by the kind of environment she created during Restorative and Yin classes.
3. Surrendering to the illness rather than fighting against it has been an important and ongoing aspect of creating health, if not curing any disease. Taking to my bed and staying there, admitting to myself and others when "normal" was beyond my capacity, learning to accept and live within the new limits allows me actually to accomplish a few things in a way that wasting all my energy on trying to be who and what I used to be could never do. Submitting to illness as a teacher, an agent of grace, rather than a demon to be destroyed, changes the whole paradigm.
4. Therapies and therapeutics that have produced real and sustainable curative results for me include shamanic journeying, homeopathic adrenal supplementation, constitutional homeopathy (self-prescribed, practitioners were not helpful), Low Dose Naltrexone, the Fuck It Diet, aggressive resting and following a heart-rate based exertion program, meditation and chanting, and Restorative and Nidra yoga.
5. I am still committed to finding a place in the Christian community. I still think in Christian. Christian metaphor still resonates in my soul in a way no other tradition's stories or vocabulary does. I will never be a conventional Christian, being a heretic is as much a part of me as being a Christian, maybe more. I am, however, determined to forge or find a space to bring together the ancient traditions of Christianity with modern applications. We needn't be syncretic with Buddhism or neopaganism (such syncretism isn't wrong but isn't necessary) to find meditation, magic, mysticism, contemplation, or apotheosis.
6. To that end, between relapses last year, I began facilitating a chant class at my yoga studio. I had to drop it last spring but I hope to revive it locally and in person as my health permits, online in podcasts or Skype groups if it does not (and even if it does). Ideally, I'd like to be able to facilitate chant groups in hospitals and VA centers for the very ill, the disabled, the traumatized. I see its importance for spiritual healing far outweighing its utility for the trendy yoga studio seeker.
7. My kids have grown up since my earlier writing. I'm no longer homeschooling except in the most legal and supervisory definition. My older daughter chose to attend public high school, graduated with honors and moved across the country to go to a private liberal arts college where she continues to swim competitively and aims eventually to physical therapy school. My younger daughter attends community college and is dual enrolled at cosmetology school. I still supervise her registration, sign her enrollment forms, and help as requested with papers (dyslexia is still a challenge), but I am no longer directly involved. She's also been a professional actor for several years. It still seems strange to think that what was such a huge part of my life is now over, but I also heave a sigh of relief to be finished. I don't regret it for an instant--and, thankfully, neither of my kids does either--but it was a lot of work for which I'm glad no longer to be responsible.
8. Due to injury and illness, I can no longer read books. At least 95% of my reading is through the Kindle app on my iPhone. While I am deeply grateful to have that option, since I dislike audio books, I miss the smell, the look, the feel of holding a book in my hands. I miss shopping at used bookstores and trolling library stacks. And I really hate paying the digital prices for books. I thought I spent a lot of money on books until I started buying ebooks at retail prices--criminey!
9. Chronic illness is isolating and annihilating. Even for persons not housebound or confined to bed as I usually am, illness forces an identity change. It demands consideration of existential questions of meaning, individual value, community, and purpose. Whether one faces these questions head on or ducks continuously to the side of them, they change a person. Chronic illness means facing one's death in a society that spends a great deal of effort to deny death.
10. Writing this post taxed me so much, I can't even think of a number ten. I'll just hit publish and have a little lie-down.
Thursday, April 4, 2013
10 Things on Thursday
I am planning a solitary DIY retreat for the last week in April. Here are ten things for my portable altar:1. An alter cloth (that will double as a head scarf
when I am out in the sun)2. A few tea light
candles3. A lighter
4. A small abalone shell
to hold the candle5. A found shell that reminds me of half a wing as a meditative focus
6. A bag of Dead Sea salts
9. A collection of prayers
10. A rose petal/white sage smudge bundle
Thursday, October 25, 2012
10 Things on Thursday
Ten Things I'm Afraid Of:
1. I'm afraid that I will be regarded as a dilettante blogger because I don't blog every day. But I'm afraid if I blog everyday, I will end up with mostly frivolous posts.
2. I am afraid of being Stoopid. My hysterical illness has mucked up so much of my executive functioning that I am just a dingbat all too often. I'm afraid that my hysterical illness has stolen so much of my brain that I won't ever be able to write consistently and reliably, that I won't be able to "just show up" to my writing.
3. I am afraid i will lose my mind altogether. I hate that I can't be counted on to organize the family's finances or even the grocery lists with any certainty.
4. I am afraid that I won't provide my kids with the social skills and education that they deserve. I am afraid that my own disabilities will create disabilities in them. I'm afraid that I did them a disservice by homeschooling.
5. I'm afraid I've wasted my intelligence on fundamentalist thinking and haven't got anything left now that I'm not a fundamentalist anymore.
6. I'm afraid that the best thing anyone will be able to say about me at my funeral is that "she loved her kids". But I hate that I can't see loving my kids as a valuable accomplishment.
7. I am afraid of dying before I'm fifty (like my mother). I am also afraid of being old before my time.
8. I am afraid that I will let the limitations of my hysterical illness hold me back as much as I let fundamentalist thinking and religious addiction limit me.
9. I am afraid that I make no difference in my world.
10. I am afraid of fear.
1. I'm afraid that I will be regarded as a dilettante blogger because I don't blog every day. But I'm afraid if I blog everyday, I will end up with mostly frivolous posts.
2. I am afraid of being Stoopid. My hysterical illness has mucked up so much of my executive functioning that I am just a dingbat all too often. I'm afraid that my hysterical illness has stolen so much of my brain that I won't ever be able to write consistently and reliably, that I won't be able to "just show up" to my writing.
3. I am afraid i will lose my mind altogether. I hate that I can't be counted on to organize the family's finances or even the grocery lists with any certainty.
4. I am afraid that I won't provide my kids with the social skills and education that they deserve. I am afraid that my own disabilities will create disabilities in them. I'm afraid that I did them a disservice by homeschooling.
5. I'm afraid I've wasted my intelligence on fundamentalist thinking and haven't got anything left now that I'm not a fundamentalist anymore.
6. I'm afraid that the best thing anyone will be able to say about me at my funeral is that "she loved her kids". But I hate that I can't see loving my kids as a valuable accomplishment.
7. I am afraid of dying before I'm fifty (like my mother). I am also afraid of being old before my time.
8. I am afraid that I will let the limitations of my hysterical illness hold me back as much as I let fundamentalist thinking and religious addiction limit me.
9. I am afraid that I make no difference in my world.
10. I am afraid of fear.
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