Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Slow down, you move to fast, you've got to make the morning last... 

Twoish weeks ago, as I reported here, I dropped my entire bag with my wallet onto a snowy corner (thankfully, I got it back). Then, I left my wallet in plain sight in my unlocked car overnight. Overnight! When a frantic morning search overturning the house yielded nothing, I headed out to the car only to find my bright red wallet nestled between the driver and passenger seats. A few days ago, I lost my keys--my entire set of keys--house keys, mailbox key, multiple important university office keys--by leaving them in my shopping cart. After frantically pacing, checking and rechecking pockets, and staring into my locked car to see if perhaps I had unwittingly left my keys in the car, I went back into the store and was relieved to retrieve the keys at the information counter. 

Last night, I dropped my precious, life-line to the world cell phone into the toilet in one of the slow-movie moments where the phone is slips from my hand, as my mouth opens to in slow-mo to yell, "Ohhhhhhhnoooooo!" I dipped my hand into the toilet water (ew, ew, ew!) in one quick motion and rescued my phone. Miraculously, after a few sputtering fits and starts and several dropped calls, it proved to be unharmed. And, I, who dipped my hand into water with a live battery floating in it, was also unharmed and not electrocuted. 

I am a frazzly, out-of-sorts mess. Quietly, I am losing my grip. I am panic-stricken, anxiously clutching and wheeling around, and personally inconveniencing myself. 

These small, cumulative losses have gotten my attention. My life has gotten too busy, too noisy, too harried: too much multi-tasking, too much problem-solving, too much googling. I need large doses of quiet lay-a-bout time, stillness, silence. There's no miracle 2-week silent retreat in my future, but rather a series of days (several months worth of days even) with small breaks of deliberate, mindful, conscious moments of quiet. Time again, for the altar space I created in my early twenties: a box, a candle, a small picture and moments upon moments of soaking in the quiet did wonders for my spirit then and so I am drawing on that ever present resource and ritual again. Hold me. Cradle me. Replenish me.  

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Tonight, I started my 8-week yoga class. As I sat on my mat in the gently lit, quiet room, slow inhale followed by slow exhale, I teared up. Sitting. Tears. Lying down. Tears. Raising my outstretched left leg. Tears. Flexing my foot. Tears. Breathing in. Tears. Breathing out. Tears. Through the whole class, I cried. I stretched, I moved, I breathed, I cried, and I just let my gentle little grasshopper-self be. In the midst of insurance headaches, treatment plan decisions, and reams of paperwork, I forget just how new this Multiple Sclerosis is. I have only known for sure since mid-November. Gentle little grasshopper.

My energy has been galvanized and geared towards putting together the treatment plan. I have been organized, pro-active, and positive.

Tonight, though, I had space to really just absorb the shock of this news. Just the fundamental reality of
"Oohhhh" [I have Multiple Sclerosis].

Out of habit, I had been holding my breath. I have been bracing myself for the daily injections (which I haven't started yet). I have been downplaying any sadness. I don't want to be perceived as "too needy" or "too much" or "making a big deal out of nothing".

Of course, it's all true, all at the same time: I am organized, pro-active, and positive. I am also shocked. I am also so sad.
Gentle, little tender grasshopper. 

Monday, January 12, 2009

Good Samaritans. Perhaps this was karmic payback for turning in a set of car keys I found last week on the ground outside the post office. Over the weekend, on my way to a friends, I was concentrating so hard on not falling on the icy snow or dropping the containers of potluck yumminess I was carrying, that I dropped my bag bag and didn't notice. I dropped my bag with my wallet. My wallet with my license. My wallet with my mac card. My wallet with my $60.00 gift card. Geesh

And...I got. it. back. The bag, wallet, and all items perfectly intact. Amazingly, the woman who found it tracked me down via face book and I got the message before I even realized that I had lost the items.  Just like that. Thank you.      

Saturday, January 10, 2009

Restored. I had a tired-hangover today. No drinking involved, just the after effects of taking on too much yesterday. So, I dressed, tramped through the snow, and I spent the afternoon at my favorite coffee shop. No computer, no dissertation chapter  or scholarly reading material. Instead, me a large pot of Citron tea (with 2 refill options) and three pleasure reading books including the Best Food Writing 2008. It was luverly. 

Several hours later and I felt fully restored. Light. Lifted. Joyous. 

What a difference a play-day and a good cup of tea make. 



Rookie mistake. Yesterday, I created a plan-for-the-day which helped me move smoothly through the day and stay on task. At the end of the day, though, I was exhausted. I can not emphasis enough how tired I was: worn out, depleted, frazzled, zonked-out. Plus, I've been battling a cold.

As I reviewed the day, however, what became clear is that the
numero uno mistake I had made was simple. A rookie mistake. I did not eat well or often enough. I did not drink well or often enough. A nutritionist I saw once, noted that if you start the day out hungry, you will spend the day hungry. That's why breakfast is so crucial.

It's not that I didn't eat yesterday, I did. I just didn't eat well enough to really fuel myself and maintain my fuel throughout the day. I relied on lots of white flour items (bagel, sandwich bread) and sketchy protein (deli turkey). Sugary Chai tea has milk, but also a lot of sugar. I did drink some regular tea, too but not enough to make 8 glasses of water.

I did alright until 4 p.m. when I started to get really hungry. I had a snack (vending machine peanut butter crackers) and that staved off my hunger for a while. However, as I continued to work and power through, I got hungrier and hungrier. I skipped dinner in order to make a 7 p.m. social engagement. By 10 p.m. when I finally sat down for a proper dinner I was stark raving ravenous and so depleted.

(Then, to further exasperate the situation, I was so over-tired that I didn't go to bed until 2 p.m. -- yikes!)

So, today I was more attentive: large bowl of oatmeal with a diced up apple and a sprinkle of walnuts and brown sugar in soy milk for a late breakfast; a pot of citron tea and a biscotti at the coffee shop; a peanut butter sandwich with natural peanut butter and jam for a late lunch. And, tonight, I am going to try my hand at making a new veggies-galore Thai dish.

Half the trick, I am realizing, is to be attentive to my daily routine--as Natalie Goldberg would say, "Make positive effort for the good."