Nature

Every morning the sun swells over the Atlantic ocean, peeks over the edges of East Manhattan, and cuts straight through East Harlem and up my street, bouncing off in rosy hues from the brick facade of the building across the street. From rosy to vibrant, the sun carves knife-sharp shadows across the face of said brick building and lights up the whole street. 

 

 

Wondering perchance what I'm doing up at this ungodly hour to watch a sunrise?  This is the time of day I feel best. Straight out of bed, I do my best thinking and have the most energy at this early hour (the rest of the day is another story). Also, the streets are hushed now, particularly on the weekends. So, gratefully, me and my sunrise can enjoy this solitary moment without interruptions.

Feeling grateful today? Join me at the gratitude photo challenge.

Depleted

Anyone else feeling depleted this election year? I know even some of my more politically-astute friends are ready to keel over with exhaustion, and who can blame them? Tribalism, especially for people trying to avert it, is exhausting. It's all too easy to fall into a camp, pelting the "other" with abuses. Walking a middle way, now that's tough.  And because it isn't easy, sometimes I am guilty too of "othering" people I don't agree with on certain things. Election year, I am so very very over you.  For the first time in a long time I'm contemplating "unplugging" from social media for a while.  I could really do without another oh-so-original political meme. What about you?

Also, it's been a time since I've visited my theme of the year: celebrate. It's true I haven't blogged about it much lately, but it has very much been working its way into my consciousness over the summer.  And, dare I say it? I actually feel I am getting better at becoming the celebrating me. And with elections coming up, and the accompanying opinion fatigue, I might just celebrate the upcoming months by unplugging and focusing on things that bring me joy. I am learning that my favorite way of celebrating is becoming more plugged in and engaged in the area I am living.

"Turn off the TV. Live your life."

This is a magnet at a friend's house. Lovely, no?

 



Plugged into the beach. When you're camping, engaging with an area is unavoidable.

 

Celebrating scenes from our hometown:

Part One of Two Part Series: Paths

Part I:

When I think about it, and I realize I'm hardly objective about this, I think the 20s must be the hardest period of a person's life. As in decisions. paralyzing. fear. everything. depends. on. me. making. the. right. decision. right. now. and. I. have. twenty. seconds. to. do. it. right. the. first. time. Intimidating, no?

I haven't been looking for any kind of theme for my summer reading, really. Books have found their way into my lap. And yet I have found a running theme. Paths. Choosing a life path. Feeling debilitated when life paths don't make themselves apparent. Feeling incredibly discouraged when we have to change tracks.  

I don't want anyone to OD on this theme in one sitting, because these posts are to be quite literary heavy, full of lovely quotes that resonated with me. Hang in there. Maybe you and I will reach a place of peace, courage and hope at the end of this series. Just maybe.

The Books:

1. The Bell Jar, Sylvia Plath
2. Traveling with Pomegranates: A Mother and Daughter Journey to the Sacred Places of Greece, Turkey, and France; Sue Monk Kidd and Ann Kidd Taylor

The Characters:
1. Esther Greenwood
2. Ann Kidd Taylor

I'm going to move thematically across the texts, from the "choosing a life path", to the "feeling debilitated when life paths don't make themselves apparent", and finally to the "changing tracks" and then...who knows?

For the purposes of this post, I'm focusing on The Bell Jar by Ms. Plath. A good feminist standby. And for some reason it was always a book I was a little afraid to touch for fear that I myself would be caught in a maelstrom of mental instability (the main theme of the book is Esther Greenwood's struggle with mental illness; it's fairly autobiographical, it mirrors Plath's own experiences). Yet no one told me how funny Plath is while addressing this topic. Sure there are serious bits, but her dark humor made the book so surprisingly readable. I recommend it.

Esther receives a rejection letter (a happening shared in our next book with the Kidds) for a Writer's workshop. She is expecting to get in. Suddenly, with rejection letter in hand, she is lost. Directionless, purposeless, she starts hatching half-baked plans, desperate for a path:

" I decided I would put off the novel until I had gone to Europe and had a lover. . .I thought I would spend the summer reading Finnegans Wake and writing my thesis.

"Then I would be way ahead when college started at the end of September, and able to enjoy my last year instead of swotting away with no makeup and stringy hair, on a diet of coffee and Benzedrine, the way most of the seniors taking honors did, until they finished their thesis.

"Then I thought I might put off college for a year and apprentice myself to a pottery maker.

"Or work my way to Germany and be a  waitress, until I was bilingual.

"Then plan after plan started leaping through my head, like a family of scatty rabbits.

"I saw the years of my life spaced along a road in the form of telephone poles, threaded together by wires. I counted one, two, three....nineteen telephone poles, and then the wires dangled into space, and try as I would, I couldn't see a single pole beyond the nineteenth" (122-123). 

The rejection letter from the workshop knocks something loose inside of Esther. She realizes that "The one thing I [am] good at [is] winning scholarships and prizes, and that era [is] coming to an end" (77).

She becomes woundingly unsure of herself. She feels she is a "racehorse in a world without racetracks", woefully unprepared for the world she has to survive in.

"I saw my life branching out before me like [a] green fig tree. . .

"From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked.  One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out.

I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet" (77).

Are you identifying with this yet? I so completely and totally identify with this. It strikes me that it is possible to over-think this whole path thing. Striking out and finding your path, moving forward as you best know how is the only way to keep yourself from going absolutely crazy (which, ahem, Esther does by the way), because waiting for it to come to you, well, it just ain't happenin'.

Now, this post is taking a direction I hadn't anticipated. For the past few weeks (years?) I've been thinking a lot about what it means to "have it all" (a topic much too broad for this post, so I won't get into it here too much).  I'm reminded of my lovely mentor, Dr. C. Now, this woman is phenomenal, she's helped me through rough times, convinced me to do things I didn't think I could, I trust this woman.  She knows me, she knows my situation, my personal life; she's informed and in touch. The last time we had lunch she told me, "You can have it all. Just not all at once."  I believe her. It reminded me of Laurel Thatcher Ulrich's reading of The Feminine Mystique. The unexpected message she got from it was that life is long. Oh yeah, YOLO and Carpe Diem and all that crap too, but you gotta have a plan because life phases come to an end.

So is it possible that Esther, that all of us (even me!), could just start grabbing those figs within our reach?  Moving forward; taking opportunities as they come along; clearing an area for new opportunities to grow when they're ready, when we're ready?

Until next time, happy fig-grabbing.

What do you make of all this? Grab those figs by the stem? Cherish one at a time? Wait and watch? What's your approach to making life choices? I'm not convinced there is a right or wrong way. P.S. I challenge my own idea of grabbing at figs willy-nilly in part II.

Works Cited:

Plath, Sylvia. The Bell Jar. Harper Perennial Modern Classics. 2006.

Learning Mindfulness

Photo from papertissue

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How many of you have tried to meditate before? Maybe you sat in yogi position, with your thumb and first finger pinched together into a circle like Rafiki in The Lion King. Maybe you lit a candle. Maybe you failed miserably at it, like I did. I've tried, time and again, to make a ritual out of meditation and then never, ever stuck with it.

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I've realized since that prayer actually works better for me than Buddhist meditation practices, but I think this is because I've just had more practice at it. Of course there are religous reasons for prayer, as in, you know, verbally communicating with God and sustaining your relationship with Him (and/or Her, as you will). But there are practical evidences that prayer is really good for people in a more physical sense. It manages stress levels and creates a sense of well-being in a person in much the same way that Buddhist meditation has been shown to do (I won't reference specific findings here, but there is on-going neuroscientific experimentation, much supported by the Dalai Lama by the way, that demonstrates the positive effects of Buddhist meditation).

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I know I could work really hard at it and master the damn thing, but I'm too lazy. So imagine my delight when I discovered the lazy person's meditation technique.

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It's called Mindfulness. Mindfulness has been called "one of the simplest meditation techniques and potentially the most revealing as it involves letting go of any desire to control your thoughts. Instead, you observe them with detachment as they arise. . ." (Roland 38). Essentially the idea is that we give our thoughts the significance they do, or more often don't, deserve. The idea is that you don't have to control your thoughts, you just have to stop letting them control you. Imagine that the mind is a barking dog. Instead of trying to quiet it, you get on with whatever you need to do and just let the dog bark because that is just what dogs do. Our minds are constantly bringing thoughts to the surface of our individual consciousness. That's just what minds do. It's our choice whether to pay credence to the thoughts and react accordingly.

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One of my favorite things about mindfulness is that it isn't something you "set aside time" to do. You can do it all the time. One mindfulness exercise is that of eating. Instead of hurrying and preparing meals as quickly as possible and chomping them down, one can focus on the task at hand, in this example, eating an apple. You feel the texture of the apples you're slicing. Notice the color and the smell. Maybe you even pay attention to the sound of your knife slicing into the whiteness of the apple's flesh. Instead of swallowing the slices whole, as I'm (almost) wont to do, you chew slowly, focusing on the taste and texture of the apple slice. Feeding your body can be a meditative practice. I can only imagine the health implications.

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The idea is that you can practice mindfulness periodically throughout the day until it becomes second nature. If I were to slow down I would realize that the majority of the time I am tense and anxious, ready to spring to the next task to be done. Of course tasks need to be done, but do they need to be done by an automaton? Do I really have anything to gain by doing tasks anxiously and absentmindedly?

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I know this post is already text heavy, but I came across these helpful mindfulness questions today in a book called The Mindful Brain by Dan Siegel. The idea is that you answer with the traditional "almost never" to "almost always" range:

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• I perceive my feelings and emotions without having to react to them.
• I watch my feelings without getting lost in them.
• In difficult situations I can pause without immediately reacting.
• When I have distressing thoughts or images I just notice them and let them go.
• When I'm walking, I deliberately notice the sensations of my body moving.
• When I take a shower or a bath, I stay alert to the sensations of water on my body.
• I notice how foods and drinks affect my thoughts, bodily sensations, and emotions.
• I pay attention to sensations, such as the wind in my hair or sun on my face.
• I pay attention to sounds, like ticking clocks, birds chirping, or cars passing.
• I notice the smells and aromas of things.
• I intentionaly stay aware of my feelings.
• I notice visual elements in art or nature, such as colors, shapes, textures, or patterns of light and shadow.
• I pay attention to how my emotions affect my thoughts and behavior (or vice versa).
• I find it difficult to stay focused on what's happening in the present.
• It seems I am 'running on automatic' without much awareness of what I'm doing (93-94).

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And there are more, but this is probably enough for now. I know mindfulness didn't make it onto my New Year's Resolution list, but it very well could have. Because I'm realizing that mindfulness is a big part of celebrating (the very prominent resolution of this, my year of 2012). Who wants to go to the trouble of cooking a nice meal if you're not even going to take time to be "in the moment" of eating it? Swallowing it whole? Being done in 5-10 minutes? Where's the fun in that? How else do you think it could play into celebrating? What ways do you think you'd like to practice mindfulness?

Sources:

Roland, Paul. How to Meditate. Ulysses Press, Berkeley 2000.

Siegel, Daniel J. The Mindful Brain. W.W. Norton and Co. NY, 2007.

Blue Monday

My blue Monday came early (last night, in fact). As opposed to blue Monday, it didn't come from a realization that I had already abandoned my New Year's goals, which I never made the time to create this year.

Blue Monday hit me yesterday mid-morning as I struggled through my stats homework, submitted my answers online, and then as I saw how many questions I'd answered incorrectly. It may not seem likely, but I like my stats class. I just don't like how it takes me twice as long, working twice as hard, to remember the concepts as some of my fellow classmates. That part definitely sucks. But on the other hand, I like reading about/studies and I value what a good study/experiment can do to further human knowledge. Also, in the career direction I'm headed, stats is very useful and I can see why.

But sadly this scenario effected my mood for the rest of the day. As in listlessly, existentially blue. Most of the time when I'm blue the cure is being extra nice to myself in the form of ice cream consumption; trashy magazine/popular nonfiction reading; movie watching; and going to bed early. As I contemplated this cure in the early evening, I realized it wasn't going to do the trick (but don't worry, I tried it anyway).

No, this blue mood was upon me because of the amount of unfinished tasks I had cluttering my subconcious, and pushing the tasks to the back of my mind wasn't going to make them go away. I realized all this, but then shoved my nose into a trough of Bishop's Bash ice cream, watched a movie and took a bath.

Today I awoke in a better mood, but obviously still had to confront the tough reality of those unfinished tasks (one of them is creating some goals for the rest of this year). Sometimes (often?) joy is only to be found on the other end of an uncomfortable experience. And the time prior to taking the first step can be excruciatingly unpleasant. But when it's taken, sometimes it can be exhilarating. Here's to the euphoria found in action.

Today is the day...

I came across this statement the other day: "Today is the day". I generally find myself pretty unaffected by happiness/bumpersticker taglines, but this one made me pause. I've been feeling pretty stressed out/blue/unlikeable lately, and sometimes my thoughts take on a negative pattern.

I thought about the marvelous possibilities of this phrase, particularly if one ends the statement with a positive finish.

Here are some possibilities I came up with:

Today is the day I get closer to finishing my projects.
Today is the day I am closer to the end of the semester.
Today is the day I smile and laugh with my daughter.
Today is the day I watch a fun movie with my family.

Obviously none of these statements are groundbreaking, but they gave me enough of a lift to carry on versus writhing in a puddle of self-pity and loathing. Any "today is the day" statements from any of you?

A Machine I Am Not

Photo coutresy of dreamstock
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The unpleasant circumstances I alluded to a few posts ago are related to some health problems I've been having. An appointment with a doctor today confirmed our suspicions: I have severe anemia, and will probably have to go to the hospital for iron infusions. Anemia is also heavily correlated with a low-functioning thyroid, which my lab tests also confirmed. Less expected, but not totally surprising, my Progesterone levels are also alarmingly low. Progesterone is a hormone that is related to mood elevation. In females, a defiency can mean greater emotionality or depression and heightened PMS symptoms. It's also correlated with migraine headaches, mood swings, ovarian or breast cysts, anxiety or panic attacks and postpartum depression.

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All told, we've known something has been seriously wrong with me for almost a month now. I've felt incapable of controlling my anxiety over seemingly insignificant things, symptoms of depression have been mounting, and I have felt incredibly lethargic. I've had a really hard time concentrating in my classes since all I really want to do is lay my head on my desk and go to sleep. It's so surprising how quickly these symptoms crept up on and overcame me. Even freakier is recognizing that I'm just not able to move at my normal pace anymore.

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Monday I realized it would be wisest to withdraw from one of my classes. It was the smartest decision I've made in a while. After struggling with feelings of guilt and anger (me? a quitter? never!), I suddenly found myself feeling so relieved and happy. Thanks to everyone I called or talked to about withdrawing; your assurances that it wouldn't put a big, fat Warning: unstable; do not consider on my graduate school applications made a world of difference to me. Now instead of forcing myself to push through the fatigue, I can periodically grant myself permission to *gasp* nap while Squirty's napping.
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This experience has been hard for me. The last time I seriously fought with depression was on my mission. It was an awful experience (the depression, not the mission) and not one I'm keen on reliving. Post-mission, every time I've ever begun to feel depressed I've immediately reacted by shaking myself out of it. Until now, I'd been pretty successful.

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Derrick and I are confident, however, that with some help I'll be able to come out of this and be able to reach somewhere close to my normal pace. It might not be until next Fall, it might be as soon as next month (I hope, I hope, I hope), we'll just have to wait and see. If you've seen me lately and are thinking that I actually seemed pretty normal to you, I sure fooled you, didn't I? I flatter myself that I've become quite a pro at hiding things like this. Don't let it freak you out too much.

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In the meantime, if I've seemed withdrawn or distant or I haven't returned your phone calls or emails or whatever, please be patient with me. If I've hounded you overmuch and enlisted your help with Squirty more often than you ever really wanted, oops. If I promised to do something that I haven't followed through on, drats. I know what you're thinking, perhaps unrepentant behavior is symptomatic of anemia/hypothyroidism/wacked-out-female-hormone-syndrome, and you're probably right; nevertheless, thanks for all the help many of you have already rendered. Just 'cause I'm unrepentant doesn't mean I'm ungrateful.

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Love to all.

Sanity Rituals

Some of my favorite posts written by my friend Ginny are her "how I do what I do" posts. I'm not even sure that's what she calls them, but essentially her posts outline ways in which her truly awesome family handles busy-ness and chaos. In some ways, her way of doing things is truly unique and very inspiring. Alternately, my own family's way of doing things may not be unique or inspiring, but it helps us get through our day's activities.

I find that in order to find and keep my center, especially as I've embarked on increasingly busy school schedules, I've had to implement "sanity rituals". I'll outline a few of them in this post, but be forewarned that the main reason I'm able to "do what I do" is due to a tremendous amount of help, mainly from my husband, but also outside help, including babysitters, modern conveniences and the like. Since I have several friends and acquiantances who are mothers contemplating, preparing for, or actually doing work or school, I hope the post is marginally helpful or hopeful. Also keep in mind that my sanity rituals are somewhat but not entirely listed in order. A bit confusing, I know.

The ultimate sanity ritual for me is organization. Initially, this meant I was in trouble. I've never been a very organized person, but thankfully my LDS mission gave me some tools to help me out here. In fact, never since my mission had I been busy enough to plan out the next day, but once I started becoming insanely busy this semester, I picked up my planner again as a kind of reflex. Every night before bed I take a clean post-it note, place it on my current planner page and map the next day out. Next to the day I write something that helps me put things into perspective, always relating to the baby. Because I want her to be top priority, and because sometimes I'm tempted to put schoolwork first and get upset with her if she gets in the way, I usually will write something like "relax with baby", or "love on baby", or "have fun with baby".

Early in the semester I wrote out a detailed study schedule. I consult my study schedule while also keeping in mind special circumstances of that week and list in order of priority which classes I need to study or do homework for during quiet times or while Squirt is taking a nap or during class breaks. Under that, I write other priorities of the day, such as social events, meetings, people I need to email, or the gym. At the very bottom, I write what I'll be making for dinner the next day so I don't have to stress about that and I know exactly what I have to cook. Then I'm done!

I've learned to be mindful of the fact that sometimes putting something off takes more energy than just doing what I'm trying to avoid. Sometimes trying to take a nap takes more energy than just plugging along through my day, even when I'm tired. It's weird that it's that way for me, but I've learned to capitalize on it and make it work.

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Derrick will sometimes make fun of my devotion to my evening bath-time, but seriously, I really need my bath-time sometimes. I can shave my legs (ensuring a good night's sleep), read what I want, and be alone and quiet for a few moments.

Journal-writing has become much more therapeutic for me as of late. I think it had always stressed me out before because I had imagined my future posterity reading it; thus I had always kept it very clean and neat so they would know what a good person I was. This semester, I threw that bullcrap out the window. Hopefully, my posterity will be smart enough to deal with the fact that no one, not even their grandmother, is perfect. So I write what I need to get out. Testimonial challenges and spiritual transitions, things I said or did that I regret, things I feel bad about, swear words, goals, thoughts, ideas, dreams, beautiful moments with the baby, things we do as a family. I've turned my journal into a genuine catharsis and it's felt great.

I couldn't survive without my crockpot. The dinners that I write at the bottom of my post-it notes are, more often that not, crockpot dinners. How nice to throw everything in and never think about it again until it's time to eat. Also, cooking this way is very easy on gluten-free chefs like myself. I've yet to check out the 365 days of crockpot blog, but I will soon because I always have an eye out for easy recipes. A larger crockpot is at the very top of my Christmas Wish List. I guess that means I'm definitely not a kid anymore.

Sometimes I grimace, but I know myself well enough to know that I function under stress much more gracefully when I've been exercising.

The best part of my day is always when Derrick gets home. Our alone time is definitely my greatest sanity ritual, no matter what we do.

So...what are some of your sanity rituals?