Lipids

When we learned about the cell in Anatomy, lipids were an important kind of molecule in the body.  Their first function is to provide protection and padding.  Their second function is storing energy.  There's more, but those two are the top of list when it comes to why we have lipids.  When the doctor does blood tests we hear about lipids and cholesterol and such.  We haven't studied about cholesterol yet, so that discussion will have to wait.  Now, if you are not a science buff and don't know what lipids are, they are fat.

So the fat molecules in your body are there for protection and to store energy.  The first source of energy that your body has is carbohydrates.  That is what it burns for energy.  The second easily available source is lipids, and the third source is protein.  I believe there are 20 protein molecules, and the body can only make about 8 of them.  The rest you have to consume in the food you eat.  Working out breaks down the lipids and your body uses them.  That's why working out takes energy.  Breaking bonds is always harder than forming them.  If we don't work out, the lipids just keep growing in number...and there are all kinds of consequences for not moving one's body.  To list them we'd have to visit kinesiology.  I'll save that for another day.

Now you know, me being who I am, that all of this is coming around to some point.  I am thinking about our culture's obsession with weight.  I am thinking about the cruelty at times toward people who are large...the name calling, the jokes, the way people are presented in movies and sitcoms, and worst of all there is an isolation that happens.  So often large folks are painted as stupid or mean or lazy.  It's all over the place in our society.  I get pretty fed up with it.  What does it serve except to provide a way for thin or normal weight people to feel superior somehow.   What if we paid attention to the science of fat?  Instead of making such harsh judgments, what if we looked at why it's there?  The number one reason is protection.  Ok, so you look at that with a cool eye...the organs in our abdominal area need more padding for protection.  But that doesn't mean obesity is acceptable.  Perhaps not.  But what if that cool reality moves into the psychological realm.  People who carry weight (and it is a large number these days), often do so for protection.  Bingo.  We may not know a particular individual's reason for needing protection, but could we view this with some compassion and understanding?  Yeah, I carry weight.  And yes, it is about protection.  As I have aged it is working against me in many ways, but for many, many years it kept me safer than if I were thin.  If people knew the whole story, that disgust or superiority might just turn into respect.

That is true about a lot of things, not just with the story of the lipids we carry in our bodies.  We don't know the whole story behind certain behaviors.  Overweight people are easy to pick on.  The behavior is visible to the eye.  I have my own prejudices that I carry and work to overcome.  People who come from privilege, people who gossip a lot, people who are perhaps beautiful to look at and have many advantages because of that.  The whole story isn't visible on the surface.  If we knew it, we just might feel very differently about the people we're judging so harshly.

Blue Sky Day

There used to be a friend in my life who was a bit like me in her creativity.  She had so many ideas in any given day it could leave one breathless just trying to keep up.  When the two of us got together there was lots of activity and lots of laughter.  When she would come up with another great idea that was a bit over the top financially, her husband would smile and say:  "That sounds like a blue sky idea dear." 

If only blue skies would bring the green stuff too we'd all be happily tending to all of those wonderful ideas we have, that presently lie dormant. "Follow your bliss and the money will follow" used to be my motto.  It's never worked for me.  Practical matters always interrupt...the need to pay rent, or buy groceries.  However, these days, some things have been made more accessible.  For one thing you can publish a book these days...just one copy if you choose, or a billion.  I wish recording was as simple.  It is still pretty expensive and out of reach. 

So what's your blue sky idea?  Today is a beautiful blue sky day here.  Maybe it's time to take out that dream and brush it off, breathe some life into it. 

Loving...

Loving people is not an easy task.  We do all kinds of transference stuff...someone reminds us of someone who humiliated us, took something from us, hurt us, and the relationship never even gets started.  Or perhaps someone says something that triggers something in me.  Well, I'm no longer interested in trying to get past all the defenses that are up and I walk away.  Truth be told, we just aren't going to like everyone who crosses our paths.  And not everyone is going to like you or me.  It is simple fact.  So what makes it so difficult to accept?  Sometimes I'm so busy looking for approval from someone who really isn't very nice, that I miss the quiet one who could be a real friend.

And then say, you do get past the defenses.  Like there has been someone I met a couple of months ago with whom there is a very strong bond.  In chemistry terms...I hope it's a covalent bond.   There are three kinds of bonds between molecules:  hydrogen bonds (the weakest!), ionic bonds (which dissolve in water), and covalent bonds.  Those are the kinds of bonds where if they get broken, the chemistry lab explodes.  All kinds of interesting connections.  We need all kinds of connections however.  Including the weak ones.  Somehow each relationship teaches me more about myself. 

There are friends with whom those kinds of bonds exist.  And if something threatens to break it, well, there is a pretty powerful explosion.  I don't feel the need to have hundreds of relationships with that kind of intensity.  I just want a good solid circle of  folks around that I trust, and who know they can trust me...with their secrets, their dreams and their broken hearts.  To me that is sacred ground...free from gossip, from backstabbing, from harsh criticism, from betrayals.   I've been lucky to have folks around who understand about loving, who are careful with my life as I am with theirs.  There's always JS and Greene, MP, DRM, and CD.  People I've known for many years and who know me well.  There is such safety in that kind of loving.  There are never guarantees of course.  Loving always involves risk.  And we hurt the people we love.  It is part of the deal.  When that happens, forgiveness is such an amazing thing.  It changes us, and the bond only strengthens.

March

It is almost over.  This month which is supposed to herald spring.  Winter is still huffing and puffing here, but the summer will arrive soon enough.  We're all impatient here in upstate New York.  It's the only place I've lived where people start wearing shorts in January when temperatures are still freezing.  Usually college students, but still! 

The first A&P test is under our belts.  The instructor says she gets really nervous about every group with the first test.  She is great fun.  There is laughter in every class, and sometimes the pictures she paints with her words have us gasping for air...ok, that may be an exaggeration, but how wonderful to look forward to class.  It's not all fun and games truth be told.  We have an enormous amount of information to learn, and we have to push to get through it.  Sometimes the last hour on Sunday afternoon seems to drag by until I want to jump out of my skin.  But it isn't because she is less than wonderful.  I think it's that my mind is on to the next thing.  Yesterday it probably had to do with the fact that I had been up since 4 am.

Today I volunteer at the acupuncture clinic.  Last night JS and I were laughing uproariously.  I have these seeds attached to the little protective thingies at my ears.  You know what I mean about the thingies.  Before long I will be spouting off their exact names, but for now, let's improvise.  So I have these seeds attached with surgical tape.  They haven't peeled off yet.  I didn't say a word about them this weekend at school.  I was commenting to JS that I think it would be hilarious to send out a ridiculous story via the grapevine about the little things attached to Caris's ears.  I wonder if folks would come up and try to get a peak.  What kind of story would it be?  Perhaps that they have something to do with some strange rite of healing...which isn't so far off the mark!  But it would be fun to elaborate.  If you have ideas, let me know!   I won't tell you what they are really for...let you guess.  Please feel free to post your comments.

One of our classmates presented a terrific passion project about birds yesterday.  She's had a snowy owl nesting nearby all winter...she says you know where you are by the long line of cars.  The cars of course belong to all these bird nerds (that isn't my terminology by the way!  I love birds, which you may have gathered if you've read some of my posts.)  And someplace else nearby a sandhill crane is hanging out eating birdseed.  Now THAT is rather amazing.  Don't sandhill cranes get their name because they come through the sandhills of Nebraska?  I don't know.  I could be making it up.  But I remember not being terribly impressed as a child when we passed by and my mother pointed them out...it seemed like thousands of them.  Maybe a quatrillion.  Now of course I've grown to appreciate all of those amazing rarities and delicacies of childhood that haven't followed me into adulthood...including my mother's plum jam, made from all the plums that grow wild in Nebraska. 

Well, I have rambled on and on, and it's time for me to go and volunteer.  I wonder what rarity or delicacy you remember from childhood.  I'll have to ask people today.  And perhaps report back tomorrow.  Bye bye dear readers.  Caris
 

Sunshine...

Early morning sunrise is pretty spectacular here.  And I love looking out the back windows to watch the sunset through the trees.  The light is magical, a golden color that turns the branches into shimmering cobwebs.  Sunset happened a few hours ago.  I've been listening for the coyotes who seem to be in residence at the swamp over the hill.  They were quite close last nght.  Just before dark tonight, an especially bold doe came to eat in the yard.  If only I had Mary Oliver's persistance and patience.  I would go and sit by the food source until the deer came and touched my face.  But of course I don't quite fit the bill.  Me who at 51 has returned to school, bouncing on a physio ball to wake my cells up for an Anatomy talk on the types of epithelial cells. 

I'll let you google that one. 

Good night.  This is one tired boo!  Up since 4 am.  Time for sleep.

C.

The Smallest Unit of Life

Wow...we have finished Unit One in Anatomy and Physiology.  The photo to the left is from Wikipedia, and is taken of red blood cells.  Drs. Noguchi, Rodgers, and Schechter of NIDDK were the photographers.  Do you know what the largest cell in the world is?  An ostrich egg.  That's wild!  Do you know how to identify whether or not something is alive?

Do you realize?  And do you recognize
that there are six characteristics to life! 
Yes, six characteristics to life.
If it can respond and reproduce
                                        Grow, metabolize
                                        Move and Differentiate
                                        It matters not the size,
                                        It is alive
                                        if it has the six characteristics of life.

This little ditty is supposed to be spoken a bit like Rex Harrison in My Fair Lady. 

My brain is a bit saturated with this stuff, so I took a nice long walk at one of the waterfalls in the area.  How this place feeds my soul!  Up to overflowing and then some.   All of these billions of cells that make up my being, sloshed along (you see we're 60-75% made up of water!  So I think that's why we human beings love the water so much.  I walked by the water, soaking up the sunshine despite the cold air.  It's enough to want to shout like some Baptist Preacher from the south:  "GaLOOOOW-RY!!  Gorgeous and glorious filling me up with pure happiness.

Sparkly Shoes and Ms. Grizzly

Madeline and I headed out this morning for a ride in the car.  I was planning to take her walking at one of our favorite spots, but had to stop and get my blood drawn first.  Leaving her with plenty of food and water in the car, I left with only one glance back.  An anxious canine face gazed back at me.  Processing and waiting took a long time. Two local healthcare networks have joined forces, but in my opinion, not for the better.  The doctor's office has become a nightmare for the staff, and frustrating for the patients.  What used to take 45 minutes to an hour, now takes two hours.  The overbooked doctor's offices are spilling over into overbooked lab and radiology services.  Not pleased about it, I sat and waited, aware of a little dog who was waiting for me to return.

I decided to make the best of it, watching a little pink princess in sparkly, lit up shoes entertain us.  She was probably 3 or 4, working a pacifier and gazing into a rather murky fish tank.  She was enchanted, chattering on about Mr. and Mrs. Goldfish and the angel fish.  Another patient waiting to be poked and prodded, commented on the frog.  Ms. Princess couldn't see it, running from one side of the tank to the other.  Finally she got a glimpse of it and seemed content to come and sit next to Mom, and hold her very purple teddy bear.  She laid down, still working the pacifier.  Her mother said:  "Oh no, you can't go to sleep if I can't go to sleep.  I'm not carrying you." and patted her leg vigorously.  The little girl said "Oh yes I can", and the vigorous patting and shaking continued until the pink princess was giggling uncontrollably, and half the waiting room was chuckling along with her.

Then a woman in some football shirt spoke up.   Ms. Grizzly, clearly not content with the moment, spoke in a deep, raspy voice.  "This is bul#$@%!  I was number one, and have been waiting for over an hour.  Everyone else is going ahead of me."  Someone commented about waiting our turns.  Ms. Grizzly growled louder, and began to harangue the nurse who came out, innocently calling out a name that was NOT Ms. Grizzly's.  The nurse said she would look into it, and slid away from Ms. Grizzly's claws.  More time passed.  Still Ms. Grizzly sat, unhappily fidgeting, looking for all purposes like a benched quarterback.  "This is just bull."  She got up and grumbled to the receptionist that she was going to have to leave.  Moments later she was ushered in, and came out fairly quickly, heading back to the field in her sweatshirt and jeans.

The pink princess was gone, off holding her mommy's hand, while mommy got stuck with a needle.  So I read my book, and pretty soon my name was called.  Madeline and I were soon walking in our favorite set of woods.  Walking?  well, I was walking.  Madeline was zooming and zipping and running from tree to tree, the bench, some interesting tracks in the snow.  Go, go, go.  She was running circles around me.

I wasn't as present as usual.  My back was twinging, threatening to go out again.  Lately I've been feeling more like Ms. Grizzly than the pink princess.  It's not an easy thing this getting older.  But truth be told, I'd still much rather giggle than growl.  

Winter's last huff

Every March in upstate New York, it seems as though winter has to huff and puff on it's way out.  It can never leave quietly with some grace.  No, it has to huff and puff and blow some tree branches down and howl at the windows.  I've noticed that March seems to be the time we get the most snow.  Mind you, it melts quickly usually, but we get lots of the stuff.

Perhaps that is what is happening here in my body and mind and soul.  A last huff and puff of the worst times in my life.  The winds howl and I hunker down with a warm cup of tea, looking for some comfort and escape.  Ancient childhood cruelties belong to another time.  Although they are rapping at the windows and shaking up the house, perhaps it's just a last stand before the spring arrives.

Pitty Pat's little snores and gentle purrs are here and now.  Sweet Madeline who looks at me with those brown eyes begging me to take her out for a walk is here and now.  (I did take her out for a nice walk this morning)  Earl Grey tea and flannel pajamas are here and now. 

Unfortunately, the memory of the past leaves a deep sadness in me that is very much here and now.  And it leaves a pain in my leg that refuses to quiet down.  I am walking with quite a limp, dragging myself up the steps.   

But spring is coming.  The other day I stopped to watch a waterfall.  It was a great torrent roaring through the gorge on its way back to the great ocean.  Did you know that the water in our cells is made up of the same combination of salt and water in the same ratios?  I learned this in Anatomy and Physiology, which I should be studying right about now.  I doubt that question will be on the test. 

Well, all of this emotion is on its way back to the source.  My tears are salt water, making their way back from where they began. 

And Pitty Pat is demanding some attention.

New Life is preparing to burst forth. 

Gray Day

Woke up not wanting to move.  Of course the kinesiologist would say that the very thing I need to do is to move.  I suppose not moving is the reason why all this negative emotion is sitting here, unwilling to move.  Last night J.S. and I had a battle.  No one ever wins when we have battles.  We always wind up bruised and unhappy, and not as excited to talk as we normally are.  It is really true of nations as well.  No one ever wins when there are battles and wars.  We might think one side comes out ahead, but the truth of the matter, even in situations where there is every indication that violence is warranted, both sides lose. 

What is to be done.  Take care of the anger.  The thing is Mr. Thich Naht Hahn, I just haven't figured out exactly how to do that.  Maybe the thing is simply NOT to do.  Just sit with it.  Breath.  Be present to it until it calms down.  Perhaps that is really what needs to happen in the messes of this world...where people with anger issues, are so often the people in power.  I wonder what the world might have been like if someone had sat with Hitler and really listened to his pain, been present to his anger, before it came out sideways as the raging force which killed some 12 million people.   I have been writing a lot about anger of late.  It goes to figure that if one is dealing with painful issues from the past, there is anger which sits there as well.  So much of that anger boils beneath the surface, volcanic activity, which builds and feeds on itself.  Of course it isn't like a volcano exactly.  We can stop ourselves from causing harm if we pay attention.  Volcanoes erupt eventually. 

Yesterday I drove past one of the huge waterfalls in the city where I attend school.  It was a torrent!  I could feel the spray quite a distance from the falls themselves.  It was an awesome sight.  I should have parked and gone to watch them in the first place, but instead I drove by, and of course got caught in the sight and slowed way down.  Someone behind me who wasn't in the same space of awe beeped at me.  My anger came boiling to the surface...moving me from wonder to fury, just like that.  I cursed at him in the privacy of my car, but I sped up and got out of his way of course.  And I turned the car around and parked where I could just stop and watch for a while.  He was in a hurry.  Life is like that.  I was in the midst of utter joy in the seconds before that beep.  What a shift.   It took the experience away from me.  I came away bruised.  But the bruises were more about my own stuff than the impatience of the person behind me.  I certainly wasn't detached...as the Buddhists say.

Well...off to my day.  I will try to deal with all this emotion in healthy ways.  It makes for rough going. 

Peace to us all.

    

Engaged

Such a weekend this has been!  Another weekend of Swedish Massage and Kinesiology! 

I was running a fever on Friday evening and decided to stay home on Saturday.  I woke up with the fever gone, but still feeling a bit weak and headachy.  So I let myself take a slow morning, and I landed in town about 11 am, where I sat in my favoritest coffee shop and drank Earl Grey tea while I perused Kinesiology for the quiz that afternoon.  I KNOW the bones of the foot!  I know some of the basic terminology...like foreamen and fossa and crests.  I studied my little heart out.  And still missed 4 on the test, which means I got an 80%.  Oh my gosh, what a wallop to my ego!  I was 2nd in my class when I graduated from graduate school.  Yipes!!!  No dreams about getting to be validictorian of the class. 

Sunday morning was a review of all the Swedish strokes, and I found myself going blank as I practiced on "Tina," my student partner.  I was present to giving, but kept going back to the strokes I know well.  I felt a little panicky.  Frequency, repetition is the best learning device for me, but how do I do that?  They tell us to wait to buy a massage table, as there are so many different modalities, and we may discover that we fall in love with a certain kind, and so will want a certain kind of table.  BUT I REALLY need to practice.  The irony of all this, is that I had a lovely massage table sitting on my porch for several years.  Last year I gave it back to my friend as I didn't think I was going to use it.  Hah.  We're not supposed to practice outside of school anyway.  So I will wait for now.  Though impatiently.

Sunday afternoon was really hard for me.  We were studying the muscles of the thigh, and the bones around the pelvic area.  Flashbacks.  Weeping...I sat in class going through tissue after tissue, doing my darnedest to stay present to the material.  Unfortunately my darnedest wasn't good enough.  The tears went on for over an hour.  NOW I know why I nearly flunked biology in high school and college.  I was not present to the material.  It brought up too many painful memories. 

Finally, when they started lab time, I slipped out and up to see the program director, who sat and listened to me for a few minutes.  It was what I needed.  She "bore witness" to my pain.  I felt her present with me.  My tears stopped and I went back to class.  Pretty wrung out, but much more present.  After class I drove down to one of the waterfalls where I sat and let the sound of the water splash over me, washing me clean.  A little James Taylor on the drive back home left me feeling much more at peace and centered. 

This process is hard.  My body is sometimes such foreign territory to me.  I am grateful for it.  But I have hated it for so many years I don't know how to make friends at this late date.  Forgiveness...Can it forgive me?  I wouldn't forgive it.  I felt betrayed by my body.  If it takes as long for my body to forgive me, as it has for me to forgive my body...I will be 102.  Good heavens.  Grace....where are you?  I need a little bit right about now.

Sending Hope

In the midst of traumatic events, the very best thing that can happen is for people to know they aren't alone. Chaos is terrifying. We all know this at some level...which is why we dig into our pocketbooks, even when we are stretched financially, to give.  When someone has lost everything, a simple kindness can make all the difference.  There is hope in a simple act...like receiving a bottle of water or enough food for the day, or some clothing.  It says that things can eventually return to order.  

We are far away from what is happening to the people of Japan, and yet we are all children of this earth.  The story, the sorrow, the fear, the helplessness, come to us through the soles of our feet as we walk upon the planet we share.  We may feel that life goes on as usual, but it doesn't. 

Well, I know that I am praying.  And my prayers are among many, many others.  Join me in lighting a candle...here is the site:  http://www.gratefulness.org/candles/candles.cfm?l=eng
 

Best Therapist Award

Wow...Lately I've been hearing stories about other peoples' therapists.  Stories which would make me freak out if I was seeing someone like that.  Well, in the past I have had a couple of really bad therapists.  

Today I went to see my therapist.  A couple of weeks ago he was telling me that according to statistics, only about 15% of the work which happens between a client and a therapist has to do with the therapist.(I suspect this knowledge isn't for the general public)  The largest portion of what happens is to the client's credit.  I wonder if that statistic was created for real, or by some really bad therapist who figured his or her own averages and came up with that number. No...that couldn't be. I'm sure that if my therapist quoted that figure, there is accuracy there.  He tends toward telling the truth.  I don't always appreciate that fact, but he isn't one to throw it in my face, like some people I could name. 

Anyway, I walked in and announced dramaticly that he is the very BEST therapist that ever was.  I think he thought I was being sarcastic.  He knows me pretty well...and I am given to sarcasm at times.  But definitely NOT this time.  I DO believe he's the BEST therapist I could have.  I went on and on for a while about all these stories I've been hearing of late.  Frankly, I should have fallen down at his feet.  But instead I told him that for his 15% of the work, I give him an A+, superb!  That got a big laugh.

He's reliable, solid, honest, respectful, compassionate, kind, boundaried, and very careful about not creating dependency issues in me.   But best of all, he doesn't bring some big agenda to our time.  He allows me to be who I am, and where I am.  We don't always agree.  And I didn't tell him that when I get really ticked off at him, I imagine him in a tutu.  He might object strenuously to that.  But he doesn't get to dictate just how I deal with conflict, though I have learned so much from him about how to live more peacefully with others.  Still, we are two human beings.  One who carries a fair bit of trauma around.  And the other who has this amazing gift for really listening.   

At the end of our time he told me that my thank you rated high among thank you's he's received. There's a story around that of course, but it isn't my story to tell.

Here's to you dear therapist!!!!   I feel a deep sense of gratitude for happening into your office some four years ago, and continuing my work.  You really are the best of the best. 

Feelings...wowowo Feelings

Remember that old song?  Some of you do I'm sure.  We used to make fun of it way back then too.    "Nothing more than feelings..."  Sometimes it is hard to remember how quickly feelings pass.  They come along so intensely and can be overwhelming.  They "feel" as though they are the last word. 

Lately, doing meditation, I've been discovering that I am usually able to let go of negative emotions fairly quickly.  At least the anger.  But what to do with envy and sadness and feeling left out. 

My early years were not ones of warm welcome into this world.  In fact it was pretty much the opposite.  There was hatred and every message that I didn't belong here.  As an adult I can certainly see intellectually how that is just untrue.  There is a place in this world for me.  I belong here as much as anyone else.  I have begun to love my life.  But those messages seem to get relived again and again.  Sometimes through someone elses unkindnesses, thoughtlessness, or immaturity.  Sometimes it's just this darned old tape that plays over and over in my head...however hard I work on the issues.  

Going back to school has been an interesting adventure at 51.  Makes me glad I am not a mother.  If I were, I would probably have a daughter who was in her teens or grown up.  And the challenges between mothers and daughters are very real.  I am seeing it played out in my own emotions to an extent.  Though not with my own flesh and blood...and somehow it would seem to be easier if you were related.  But here I am, having lived so many years, and I am looking at many younger, beautiful women, many of whom have much more privilege than I have had.  Many of whom will never begin to know or understand the kind of life I have come from.  There might be empathy or respect....or more likely "sympathy", which feels so patronizing.  Getting older is hard enough, but please don't pity me.  And I feel in my own self, envy.  And it feels small, lacking in generosity.  And I feel anger as well.  Who or what does that serve?  They are simply living in this world, with their own fears and inadequacies.  We all have them. 

So I gather up my defenses and wrap them around myself...which only separates us more and creates distance.  I feel tired.  And I am glad there is a break from school, so I can go back to my life for a little while and find some strength in those friendships.  This is just 20 months more.  We're 1/10th of the way through the program!  Well...perhaps I will go and shovel some snow for a while.  We got lots of it last night! 

Peace dear readers.  And peace to me too.

Viva!

Had dinner this evening with some friends at Viva! on the commons in Ithaca.  Great place to eat....though Friday nights are raucous and wild...even early.  Affordable, healthy food served with some style.  There was a lot of it.  I'm stuffed to the gills. 

Feeling lonely tonight.  Even though I was with friends....caring people.  I still feel lonely. 

Pajama Day

Tuesday, March 8th, 2011...Caris's pajama day will begin!  A day for lying in bed and reading.  Perhaps I will study....or perhaps I will read some enjoyable thing...or maybe I will be really lazy and just watch TV.  There will be snacks that are easy to fix.  No responsibilities.  No going out for one day.  Just a day to catch my breath. 

Taking time for rest seems to be a lost art in our society.  Even the children have been placed on this crazy wheel, chasing around and around, unable to get off.  Soccer, choir, drama club, cheerleading, not to mention hours of homework every night.  Yipes!  Back in the day....40 some years ago now, I remember long summer days, riding my bike, taking time to be with friends, doing the things I enjoyed.  Time didn't feel so frenetic

Well, some delivery people are putting in a new bed...something that will give me more support for my back.  I can hear them bantering with each other in quick Spanish words, as thumping and rustling and some motorized sound is happening above me.  They've got a four hour drive ahead of them tonight...back to Albany and then Jersey.  A long day.  I wonder if they have a pajama day in their future. 

Pajama Day

This coming Tuesday I have a pajama day officially scheduled.  No responsibilities.  Just time to catch my breath and hang out.  Time to "be." 

Time for being is not often seen as a necessity in our culture.  We are always on the go.  Taking the kids to

Easy Does It

There is a line of thought which says that people do not change.  That may be true in some instances.  Sociopaths or Psychopaths for instance...perhaps child molesters do not change.  Someone read an article to me recently about Post Traumatic Stress Disorder being intractable.  Interesting word.  A wide sweeping statement that would encompass everyone in its path.  Is it true?  What do you think?







Photo I took in Yellowstone last summer of a
geyser at the paintpots. 
copyright 2010, Caris Cerdwyn. 

In my opinion, many people change.  We age.  We grow some wisdom.  Some of us work hard to understand our behaviors...all the whys and wherefores.  Knowledge is power. Which is what psychotherapy is all about.  If we understand ourselves deeply, then we can choose how we respond to certain stimuli.

All of this philosophizing has to do with the other night's conflict.  Human behavior is fairly predictable.  Oh that it weren't the case.  I like to think of myself as unique.  But the truth of the matter is that there are commonalities among us.  My conflict management skills used to be useless.  I just didn't know how to have conflict and still be able to be in conversation with someone.  My anger would get the best of me.  Nowadays, I sit with my anger.  I take care of it.  Thicht Nhat Hahn talks about taking care of anger the way we would take care of a stomach ache or a crying baby.  It needs our attention.  It is good to understand the reasons we react the way we react.  Then when I am in conversation with someone I disagree with, I can be present to their feelings and perspective on things.  It has been powerful for me to learn to do this.  Each of us is precious and each of us brings gifts to this world.  If we can see that divine spark in each person and approach each person and situation with respect and gentleness...the world will transform.  Certainly our understandings of it will transform.

I think back when my anger would get the best of me, I just couldn't see how destructive it was.  A friend of mine used to tell me to hold onto my anger, let it work for me.  To be honest, that was not the best advice.  Taking out my aggravation on some yard work is healthy enough.  But holding onto my anger has only given me wrinkles that make me look angry all the time.  It has caused broken relationships time and again.  It has been the source of much heartache.  I have deeply regretted the manifestations my anger has taken, when I was looking for someone else to take care of it.  I think some people think that anger is equal to strength.  It is not.  The real strength in my life has been learning to be gentle with others.  I have never regretted gentle words in response to someone elses' anger.

Go gently.  People are fragile.  I am fragile.  and so are you.  If we learn to be gentle with ourselves, it will translate to others as well.  Go easy.  Live in Peace. Let's each take good care of the anger which is ours.  Leave the eruptions to Old Faithful.

Conflict Management

Conflict is something I fear.  And where there is fear, there is the potential for serious problems. Most of us dislike it.  My mind goes blank, my heart starts to race, and suddenly reason leaves me.  I will do almost anything to get away from the situation...but if backed into a corner, I will fight.  Fight or flight.  It's as old as life itself.  We are programmed with survival instincts.  

Last night I attended a meeting and all hell broke loose, as it were.  I wasn't really part of the conflict, but got caught in the crossfire and it hurt.  I felt protective toward everyone...and it was really painful.  My heart was heavy and sad on the 2 hour drive home.  When I got out of the car, heavy winds pushed the car door open wide, and blew my things around for the fun of watching me chase them.   What a relief to come into the familiar little warm house, to a dear little dog, wagging her tail and smiling at me.  And a cat who purred in ecstasy from the moment I picked her up.  And a peacefully sleeping housemate.  Tears fell as I crawled beneath the soft blankets and turned out the lights.

It is hard to be fully present to a moment in which there is confrontation and anger.  And somehow we do not arrive here in our lives with communication manuals which tell us how to manage conflict.  We are simply thrown into the fire.  Some of us had parents who were great at modeling peace.  Others of us lived in homes which were war zones in and of themselves.  Most lived in families that were somewhere in the middle. 

In school we have been learning about giving and receiving feedback for our massage class.  We have learned about using statements like "I felt...when such and such happened."  It is interesting how much sting is taken out of a criticism when someone says something like "I feel some pain in that muscle...I could use a bit less pressure." versus "You hurt me.  Why are you using so much pressure?" 

One of my oldest friends and I haven't spoken on the phone now in several years.  We exchange cards and emails now and then.  But both of us are reluctant to have a conversation.  Our last one ended badly, and our friendship nearly ended altogether.  Relationships, friendships, family relationships are tricky to say the least. 

Well, I really need to get to my Kinesiology, but Yoga left me so tuckered out, I think I'm going straight to sleep. 

Let's try to be gentle with each other and with ourselves. 

Conflict Management

Last night I attended a meeting and some serious conflict was addressed.  It was painful.  I hadn't been present for the original altercation, but I have noticed the tension at times.