Meditation

In the last week, I've been paying attention (like I said I would in my last post), to my thoughts, to my moods, to how I interact with people. I've been taking a class at my gym, the class is a combination of yoga, pilates, tia chi, and meditation. I've been surprised that I can loose myself in class and focus on the tasks presented by the instructor. During the meditation phase, you simply lay on your back and listen to the soothing voice of the teacher, as she instructs you to let go of any unwanted thoughts and stress. She starts with your toes, saying, "Let go of any stress in your toes, let those toes "melt" into the ground." The teacher moves from the toes to the base of your head. I do feel myself actually "melt", and I'm able to feel my stress "float" away. It's rewarding to make it through the class--the teacher tells you to, "Thank your body for the work it's done and to make a list of what you're thankful for." It's a time for reflection and prayer. I've attended this class three times, and I have felt revived after each session. I've felt calm and peaceful.

A good friend of mine emailed me an article on meditation. I've tried meditation before, when I was in treatment, I was 25 at that time, and I remember thinking it was stupid. However, after reading the article my friend sent me, I thought, "What the hell? I'll try it again, it can't hurt." With me wanting immediate results--I tried this right after I read the article, which was mid-morning yesterday. I sat down in my son's bedroom (it's the darkest room on the main floor) and I crossed my legs--with both feet sitting on my knees. I sat with my palms facing upward--resting on my thighs. I sat there for a few minutes, and then I was all, "What am I supposed to do now?"  I got up and went to my computer, re-read the article--did a search on meditation, went back into the room and got back into my pose. I learned this can be a time to ask a question--  you focus all your thoughts on that one question--ask it again, and again, and again. Then, after you've asked the question, you basically say, "OK, I've asked, now I give this question to you." (to the universe/God). And then you are supposed to sit there and try to keep your mind blank--and the answer to the question might come to you during the next phase of the meditation or later on. I sat there with my mind blank, (as blank as I could get it, I had to keep pushing any unwanted thoughts out of my mind) I did this for God knows how long, until I thought I heard the answer--I felt I was fairly certain the answer had came to me. I got up and did what I was "told" to do. And it didn't work out the way I thought it would. In fact, I felt quite awful after this. I felt a sense of sadness (I need more practice). For as long as I can remember, when I've been sad about a certain circumstance, I've went to friends and family--for advice and the advice I've received over the years, is common advice, advice that I too have given out countless times. It's, "Don't worry about it" and "Let it go." And, I've took this advice and tried to "roll" with it. I would feel sad, and I would think,"You can't be sadden by this, it's out of your control, you need to push it out of your mind." but, that hurts my stomach. What I've learned, in the last week (or last couple of days), was to not do push whatever is bothering me out of my mind, to let myself be sad, and if I let myself feel that feeling, it will pass. My stomach doesn't get a knot in it. I can let my feelings control me for a bit--and after awhile those negative feelings lessen and eventually pass. I've also decided that some of my feelings need to be private. I don't always need to seek advice from others. I can practice meditation, and during that time I will use that moment to offer up personal conflict and give my conflict "away", in hopes the outcome will be pure and untainted by what others have to say. I know my first session didn't go well, I need to be patient and not immediately run with what my gut instinct is telling me to do. People are not quite, as much trust as I have in humans, I don't believe they always understand anther's personal pain. Everyone has personal conflict, and unloading our own conflicts onto them, isn't always fair. They're going through their own life "battles", and they too are trying to overcome something, which might be "bigger" than the troubles of ourselves. I also need to be mindful before I speak. I've heard this quote many times, and I'm going to use it, everyday, the quote is "If you propose to speak, always ask yourself, is it true, is it necessary, is it kind.” ~ Buddha.  By, making these couple of changes, (seeking answers through prayer and by mentally using the quote above) I'm curious how life will flow. I'll continue to trust in the good intentions of people, but I won't rush to tell everything what is of great significance to me. Rushing to tell people what I'm feeling has at times "backfired" (not intentionally), by those who've I confided in and the results from those interactions, have not always been positive.

Where I Belong?

It's been awhile since I've last posted. I write on this here--blog quite often, I save what I write and never "publish". I'm kind of going through a,"Who the hell am I and what the hell am I all about?" phase. Obviously, I know I'm a mother, a wife, and a nurse--and on and on with that list, grandchild, sister,ect.. What I'm not is an overly religious person and I'm not traditional (I don't know what I mean by 'traditional'--I don't have traditions? That's probably it). I'm not content where I am, because I don't even know,who I am, so it's really confusing--I'm totally confused even thinking about this. I'm going to challenge myself, I'm going to focus on what I'm all about--so I know where I'm at. Get it? I don't--but I will. I've been in this phase.since I entered this world in 1981. It's time I start sorting it out. I'm not a clean freak--but I don't like chaos. I don't like confrontation--but I will confront. I have some friends, but not many. I used to drink like ten diet cokes a day (no kidding) and I quit drinking soda, a month or two ago. I can't do anything in moderation. In fact, I can't even look at greek yogurt right now, as I've eaten so much during the last couple of weeks--like, I'm really pissed off at greek yogurt--I just threw a huge container in the trash--and said, "Be gone with you greek yogurt, be gone!" I'm super lazy--like really, I'm a napoholic, it's true, ask my family. But, after I take a good nap, I can get up and run--like super fast, one mile I could probably concur, in a couple minute span--but then I get bored and I start skipping and stretching. One time (last summer) I did a somersault in a person's on the lawn in the front yard of one of my neighbors-- I didn't even know I did it, until I stood up and was all dizzy. ADHD? I dunno, I recently asked my doctor about it, she said I would have to drive to a special doctor in a different town, to be tested. I hate tests. I told her I was tested for ADD when I was in grade school, and "they" prescribed me medication, but I over heard the doctor tell my mother the medication could cause heart palpitations, [so watch for it] and soon after I started the medication, I was convinced I had heart palpitations. I would tell my mom to call 911, because I was having a heart attack, and soon she quit giving me the medication, because it caused me anxiety. So, my doctor was like, "Hmmm, Anxiety Disorder and ADHD, do go hand in hand." so, yeah I do probably have ADHD. I don't want to take the test, nor do I want to have anxiety attacks--about possible side effects. I love to read--that's my jam. I'm an alcoholic--I know that, because it's in my genes--and I was following the same pattern my Grandfather followed, and well, it didn't turn out so good for him. I try to educate people on the importance of educated on mental illnesses, because so often when there is a mental health issue that hasn't been addressed, they're likely to be addicts themselves, to self medicate--that's the bottom line. How can one be a productive member of society, when he or she is self medicating with a substance that alters their already afflicted mental capacity? It's impossible. When you see a homeless person and you say, "Why don't you get a job?" well, there you go--a prime example of who I could have been, if I hadn't quit the sauce and started taking care of my mental health, you would have been yelling that at me ("Hey you lazy bum, why don't you get a job?!?". I don't know what switched inside my head....I would like to think it was my own Grandpa--steering me off the path that he took. I think, I've been instilled with an empathy for those who suffer more so than others, because they don't understand--what it feels like--to think you (myself) suck. With knowing this much about myself, I'm going to start paying attention (yeah--totally hard) to myself--to learn who I am, so that I can start appreciating life to fullest amount humanly possible. My goal is to end in a place where I can be in a position to encourage others to do the same. I want my children to grow up knowing that mom is here--both physically and mentally. I'm doing this for myself, but I want it to benefit my husband and my family, and the couple of friends I have. I've tried to see where I fit in---all the time I used to wonder where I fit in. I don't. Bottom line--I just don't. I came to this conclusion a long time ago--but recently, I've decided I need to find that place and insert myself. My husband and I have talked about this countless times, he's all "Go find a hobby---like golf, golf is fun." And I'm all, "No, golf isn't fun." I've been told to go to Alcoholic Anonymous meetings, but I've done that--and it's Williston, ND and I'm scared--I didn't fit in there either--I was like, "Wow, I get a coin, for being sober?"--and they're like, "Yeah,and you can keep it!", but that was thee only silver lining, for me in those meetings. I've been OK with excepting the not fitting in thing--believe me, I would be taking naps All.The.Time. if I wasn't. But it's still annoying--and I still think about it--and I need to stop and just freaking move onward. So, I will update--I don't know--what I will be updating, but there were be updating going on-- I need to go about this in a more productive manner than only posting houses for sale in various parts of the country on my husband's Facebook page--cause that actually stresses him out.

Sarah Lemon

I think having the last name Lemon would be sweet. Like, if I  were to live out my dream and become a famous writer of some sort, my writer name would be, Sarah Lemon. I think lemons are pretty.

This morning on the way to school the kids and I were listening to our favorite morning radio program, Elvis Duran and the Morning Show. One of the show's host shared a clip from a Carly Rae Jepsen interview. Carly said, although she is thankful "her" song, "Call Me Maybe" was her first hit, she would really like to be known for more than just that song. Now, being the responsible parent I am, I took this opportunity to share with my children a valuable life lesson. I said, "Kids! Carly Rae Jepsen, will only be known as the girl who sang, 'Call Me Maybe' for always and forever! She's being crazy!  Kids, it's important to know these famous people are SO ungrateful! She has like a million dollars for that song, and she will always and forever only be known for that song." I took it farther, I said, "It's like it's our fault she sang that song! Just like it's our fault that Miley Cyrus played Hannah Montana, or Marsha Brady played Marsha Brady (Marsha's real name didn't come). Kids, these people, they're greedy! Like, me for instance, I'm your mother, but I don't give a crap that I'm known to your friends at school, as only your mother. And I don't even have million of dollars to show for it!". My kids sat quietly absorbing what I said. They get me. My kids really get me. Keyton said, "The NERVE of Carly!" Hal said, "They did it to themselves."  Me-"Exactly!" Then Hal and Keyton climbed out of the car. The hell with cleaning, I'd accomplished something big in that car this morning. I'm going to kick up my feet all day.

Happy Hoppy Little Jolly Farmer

I used to hold people to a certain level of expectation.  Not anymore--that's too much. I've learned not to expect anything from anyone. If I don't expect, I don't get disappointed. Obviously, this is not entirely true. I hold my children to a certain level of expectations--and that can't change, or I'll disappoint them. I expect my husband to continue to be the man he already is--a kind gentle soul.

When you stop expecting, you stop being disappointed. I think it's okay to say (even though it's awkward) I trust few. I've trusted and I've confided in too many people. I'm a talker--and now I've turned down the dial (well audibly). 

My mom started to tell me a story tonight, but then she stopped, because she knew the plot would burden me. I get invested--I feel for those who are hurting--and this has been something of an actual problem for me. I'm too sensitive? Yes! That's it! And yes, it can be a problem-- because people are aware (of my problem) and they can't tell me stories, for fear that I will dwell. I've been lied to, which I do give credit to those who did this to save me from anguish. 

I've tried all sorts of numbing techniques--and that's exactly what those techniques were and continue to be. Medication can be helpful, but they also can be awful. "Give em a pill--that will relax the anxiety ridden!" Well, dude, those anti-anxiety pills are bad for people like me, who want to be numb, because what we are feeling are real feelings, that need to be dealt with. Now, I'm not saying that every pill is that way---just certain medications, because after a time, your body builds up a level of tolerance, and then you need more, more, more! I'm not talking about anti-depressants, those things are great (in my opinion)--and many times are life saving. In certain situations, anti-anxiety medications are needed--and can be life saving as well (but not for me--I think we're clear on that now).

The only possible good quality of being overly sensitive, is that I can be sensitive to others. I can help those who want help. I'm not worried (strange, me not worried?) what people think about me, talking about myself, not being a happy hoppy little rainbow jolly farmer all the time. What I want, is for people to know that if they feel sad, and they too don't feel like a sunny ray of hot pink sunshine at all times, it's okay. If they too, feel like they have a very very small circle of people to whom they can turn to, they are not alone. It's okay to reach out --I will not judge you. I will not label you.  

Anger

Yesterday and tonight, I find myself being angry at times. It's okay to be angry-sometimes. When I'm angry, I'd rather not talk to anyone, because I might be mean, and if I'm mean--it's unfair. I've learned and I'm still learning to stay quiet and away from people when I'm angry, because I've lost relationships, caused by an angry rant for, which I regret later. I don't flip the bird (anymore) to the people who give me dirty looks at my impeccable driving--because I know people might have guns. My kids are exempt, (from my anger) for whatever reason, I'm able to do things to vent my frustrations so I can be the mother they need--like I'll mow the lawn, clean, or write. What makes me angry? I'm not quite sure--but the probable cause, this very minute (and last night), is the fruit wall paper hanging on the walls in my kitchen and the ants who found their way into my house, Really, nothing dramatic--or dramatic, probably dramatic. I could take the wall paper down, but I know we are going to remodel at some point, so the thought of spending time taking down the wall paper, just to have the walls ripped apart--seems like a waste of time. Like, being mad at walls is a waste of time. Some people say (people are probably the re-posted quotes seen on facebook) that being angry is a reflection of being hurt, but, I have to say that sometimes (most) people are just angry for a minute or two and then they get over it (and that's okay!). I'm not yelling at my kitchen walls and pounding on them or anything...I still consider myself sane. And I know, I know I'm lucky to have a home and all that..yada yada yada.

Today, I told Jesse he should become an electrician. If he was an electrician, like my dad, he could be home every night. I also told my brother he should become an electrician today (via text message) and my brother asked, why, and then told me he hates electricity. So, I asked my brother if that means he likes to live by the light of a candle. I thought they (my husband and brother) could start up a company together--I thought I was on to something, but all it got me was an image of my brother in the pre-electric era.

I read a lot of books. I read at night, before I go to bed. I have to have a book in my night stand to start after I finish the book I'm currently reading--or I get angry--again, until I get a new book. Reading gives me ideas. The last book I read was about a man named Judd. Judd's father died right after Judd caught his wife cheating on him with his boss. Judd had to go to his childhood home, and spend seven days with his siblings (who all hate each other) and his mother. Judd's mother said that it was Judd's father's dying wish that their family sit Shiva (Shiva is a Jewish tradition to sit for seven days in small chairs together as a family to mourn the death of the departed, while all sorts of people deliver food and their condolences to their home) The family sits side by side and gets in fight after fight. While sitting Shiva Judd learns that his cheating wife is pregnant, with his baby--the man she cheated on Judd with is sterile. On the last day of Shiva, Judd learns that his mother is a lesbian and that she lied to her children about their father's dying wish of the family sitting Shiva, so they would stay with her for the week. It's a funny book. I guess this book taught me about Jewish traditions/religion. And made me wonder how I would react to such a strange array of travesties and turn of events. I don't think I would handle myself well at all--I'd probably be like Judd and hide out during Temple, in one of  the Temple Israel Hebrew School's classrooms, smoking a joint--and like what happened to Judd, the firm alarm would go off and the sprinklers would turn on. People who know me well, know that would be my kind of luck. However, this book gave me the idea that maybe my brother secretly hates me, and that possibly my mother is a lesbian....just kidding. Seriously, I'm joking.

Smiles

I'm back at being a stay at home mom--when Jess is away. When he is home, I work at the hospital--in a day surgery unit. I've been pleasantly surprised with how much I enjoy my work in this environment. I've had the privilege of comforting people before and after procedures. I have seen tears of anxious people, tears of terrified people, tears of people in pain, and tears of people who are relieved. Compassion and empathy are what drive me--putting myself in the shoes of others, whether it be my patients or my patient's family members. Humor works for most people...either, I'm actually funny, or my patients are just being kind and laugh at my jokes, I don't know, I need to put a smile on their faces. 

I had a man hug me the other day and he cried when he said thank you--to me, for doing my job. That was a humbling experience. I will certainly never forget that moment. 

Weed Killer

Happy warm weather! Jess is gone this week, so I took it upon myself to spray the weeds that have started to grow in my front yard. I was spraying the weeds while talking with my neighbor---I didn't have my glasses on, and without glasses I can't see anything fifteen feet in front of me (well I can, but my distant vision is very blurry). I had this big jug that held the weed killer and a wand that sprayed the repellent on the grass. When I looked up I saw a blond little boy in a blue shirt riding a trike across the street. I pointed the "wand" at the little boy and yelled "Hey, what are you doing? What are you doing across the street? I'm coming to get you!" I thought it was Owen, but my neighbor was nice enough to point out to me that my Owen was next door riding his scooter in the driveway. I looked back at the little boy and he was crying--I scared the crap out of this poor kid. So, I pointed my wand at Owen (and to make the little boy across the street feel a little better), I yelled at the real Owen, "Hey, you get over here now!" I then pointed the wand at the "not my kid" and said "Carry on." My neighbor was confused.

Now it is raining. Will my weed stuff wash off? I hope not. I hope not.