The Surround

Saturday, October 21, 2017

3:42 PM

Today I witnessed a man surrounded by love.  There were loved ones at his head, by his side, and at his feet.  Within the warmth of those around him, he slipped from this life into the next.  There was no anger around him.  No guilt for words not said. There were no words of hurt or misunderstandings that hadn't been resolved.  There were warm memories.  There was love.  There was so much love you could feel it -- almost palpate it with your hands.  You could certainly see it in the eyes of those in The Surround.

Live life.  Live life so that you have people who surround you while you are full of life.  Live life so that there are no regrets, no words left unsaid, no anger or hurt or misunderstandings left unresolved.  Now is the time for that type of healing.  Now is the time to seize each moment with those in your tribe who will surround you some day when your time in this life is at its end.   Invite into your circle those people who will love you, hold you, challenge you, laugh with you, be with you, sing with you, walk with you, sit with you, and dance with you even though you might not dance well.    Embrace your Surround while you are able.  Be kind and gracious and loving.  Agree to disagree and love them anyway.  Get together while your dishes are undone, and your floors are unswept, and your projects are undone, and there is only PB&J in the cupboard. 

Love them.

Embrace them.

Look them in the eye and tell them how much you care and admire them and appreciate them for walking this path with you called Life.

While you have time.  While you have breath.  While you can open your eyes on this beautiful earth.  LOVE.

-in memoriam of my friend, Jim D. Pulliam

Out of focus?

I love the picture above.  Let me tell you why.  I think the pond on our farm is one of the most relaxing places to hang out.  You hear the breeze blow through the pines, the birds dive around the water looking for bugs and food -- and you occasionally hear the fish plop back into the water as they make a break for the sunshine.   There are no chores at the pond (Okay-- I take that back.  The dock could use a good sanding) that cannot be overlooked for the moments that you spend there. 

The main reason I love the picture though is not just because of its restful setting.  The main reason I love this photo because of how the photo is focused on the foreground.  The photo reminds me -- sometimes the scope of my thinking and perspective is all about what I focus on.

I must admit, lately I've been in a dry spell that has zapped my creative thinking.  Sometimes the ADL's (activities of daily living) of life overwhelm the creative energy that one can have.  It's spring at the farm -- which means there is grass and pastures to be mowed, gardens to plant, weed and tend, and flower beds to cultivate and mulch added to the normal activities of horse stall cleaning, grooming, groundwork and riding, pigeon breeding season and loft management as well as household chores, parenting and feeding my flock.  :)    I am not complaining about any of those activities I just listed for I love each one  (really, I truly don't mind the mowing or stall cleaning) -- it's just that my full life just gets a bit fuller when the weather is beautiful and there is much to be done outside.  I love being outside.

The dry spell surfaces when I don't take the time to be still with my own thoughts, a piece of paper and pencil.  The dry spell comes when my focus is on all the doing and the focus is clear and sharp in that area.   The dry spell stays when I forget that I have the power to zoom in -- or out.  My days add up to the choices I make each day and when I forget to make the choice to focus on creativity -- that is when the creative oasis seems far away.

I once heard the idea that "Good things keep you from the greatest thing."  I have come to tweak and expand that quote a bit -- for my own healthy living.  I say, "Good things can keep you from excellent things." 

None of those things in my list of ADL's are bad.  In fact, they are all good things.  They help out the family and bring me joy in doing them.  However, when I do good things -- and leave no room for expansion -- those good things can keep me from perhaps what might become excellent.  The focus that is now on the foreground -- might be missing something wonderful in the background.

I know if you've read my blog at all in the past two years you find that I think a lot about focus and perspective.  I am growing in that area as I journey along life's path.  I think our perspectives and what we choose to focus on lends us power.  Not power over people -- but power over our lives.  We see choices that we might never have seen before -- or see the ability to make decisions that we never thought we could make.   When I realize there are choices in my journey, it makes me feel liberated and opens up paths I might never have noticed.

The beauty of focus. 

Now do you see why I like the photo?

I can see clearly now....

Today I had my eyes dilated.  

One thing you probably don't know about me is that when I was a toddler I had an eye injury that almost took my sight in my right eye.  Every eye doctor who has looked in my eye since that time has said the same thing, "WOW!  Look at that!  What happened to you?  THAT'S AMAZING -- you are one lucky girl that you can even see anything out of that eye."  They go on and on as they look at the scars and pigment floating inside my eye and the jagged scar across the outer lens of my eye.  Today was no different.

You see, I have vision in both eyes -- not good vision, but I am able to see.  I am GRATEFUL for corrective lenses for without them my world would be one big blur.  When things are blurry and out of focus constantly you end up second guessing yourself, your judgment, your thoughts -- basically everything around you.  Your depth perception is non-existent -- field of vision -- peripheral vision -- nothing is clear.  Your world turns gray and dark as you try to feel your way around -- counting steps -- choosing the familiar.

Today as I stepped out of the ophthalmologist's office all I could think was WOW!  It's a bright, bright world out here! I had to head back into the building to find my sunglasses in my bag, put them on and then head out once again into the brightness of the day.  The thing is today is actually a very cloudy day.  No sunshine, no shadows -- just heavy cloud cover. Most people would say it's a gray overcast day -- yuck.  I might even have said that -- as I went into the office.  Coming out of the office, however, my mindset had completely changed.

Isn't that funny how a single event can change your perspective?  

Maybe you had three choices -- and now only two -- and what was less in your perspective just became more.  Maybe you were almost run over -- and your perspective on life shifted so that you are thankful for living one more day.  Maybe what used to be important -- just faded into the background as you are choosing to live in this moment -- not past moments.  

I know I have spoken a lot about perspective.  That's because mine is changing.  I hope you will bear with me while I share.

There is so much in one's life that can change in an instant.  We tend to gravitate towards those "events" in our lives:  the close calls; the missed calls; the opportunities not taken.  We focus on what could have been rather than what IS.  Today, I want to choose to be grateful for what IS.  Not only do I choose to be grateful for what IS --but WHO is.

I am grateful for those who choose to be present with me.  I am grateful for those who choose to show me that they love me and work to include me in their circle of influence.  I am grateful for those people who respond to my friendship, laugh with me, and spend time with me.  Being grateful for those around me helps keep my focus outward, but I am also learning to be grateful for me.  

Me.  

My thoughts, my feelings, my weirdness.  Me.

Some people would call that narcissism.  Some would call it selfishness.

Others call it self-love.  Positive self-esteem.  Positive regard for oneself.

See, I'm learning to regard myself as someone who counts.  Someone who has worth.  Someone who has value and who might not be like E.F. Hutton, but who might have a nugget here and there to share.  I am learning that there is nothing wrong with thinking such things or saying such things because I still know where I came from and who my Maker is.  Trust me -- learning positive self-talk is not an easy thing for me.  I struggle with self-love.  It's much easier to love others than myself.

I think I need to remember to look at myself through dilated pupils every day.  I need to remember those close calls, but not stop there.  I need to let them open a world of not only what IS, but WHO IS.

The VOID

These words crossed my FB feed one day from the Healing Hugs web page.  Loss.  It comes in all sizes and packages and isn't always about people.  Sometimes we lose things that represent memories in our journey -- those tangible symbols of  a time that was memorable:  good or bad.  Feelings of loss can arrive after realizing the loss of losing something that makes us feel good, like a favorite pair of shoes or jacket.  Feelings of loss happen when connection is lost between two people or pets.  It doesn’t matter what the type of relationship.  There is a void where the connection once was and it's hard to know what in the world to do with that empty space the void creates.

Truly, I don't think the reason for the loss matters.  There could be many different reasons for losing connection.   Temporary loss of connection could be as simple as losing cell phone connection in the middle of a conversation.  It could be the loss you feel when your child goes on a weekend trip or to summer camp; or if your partner is deployed and you know it's going to be a long season of multiple months away causes feelings that connection is lost.  Maybe you stay connected occasionally with friends or family and you haven't heard from them in weeks or months -- a longer period of time than usual -- and that creates a feeling of loss.  There are many other scenarios -- fill in one that comes to your mind that you have experienced.  A temporary loss can be devastating, but one thing differs from permanent loss -- there is the hope and knowledge  that the loss of connection will end.  Your child will come home from camp or the weekend away;  your partner will come home (hopefully safely) at the end of deployment; family members or you yourself will pick up the phone and text or call or write and connection resumes again sometimes even stronger than before.

Long-term loss feels different to me.  It has an underlying foundation of hopelessness.  In terms of long-term loss -- one can hold out hope for a season and sometimes the season is long -- months, years, decades and sometimes a lifetime.  There is hopelessness, but yet a mustard-grain seed of faith keeps some spark alive that things will change and connection will be restored.  This is a hard place to be.  Connection takes two entities and if one is unwilling or unable or the connection didn't mean as much to them as it did to you,  it might be easier for them to move on ahead and fill the space that you once occupied in their mind, their heart, their spirit than for you to do so.  This particular waiting room can be a painful place to reside.  Wondering during the season of un-connectedness can be excruciating.    "What-if land" can be filled with fear, suffering, loss, mourning, and even anger.  Feelings of not being enough are ever present on the surface.   Frustration, anger, and sadness can flow in and out of your emotions when certain memories are triggered and yet, if good memories come to mind, joy and sadness coexist in a way that befuddles the mind. 

Permanent loss is devastating in that there no longer is any hope.  There is no light of reconciliation or re-connection.  Only time can blunt the sharpness of the loss and the time frame is different for everyone depending upon the deepness of your connection.  In this place of darkness, it takes great effort to acknowledge the loss and even more effort to acknowledge the permanence of it.  This path in the shadows of one's journey can change your life.  Some get stuck in this place.  Some stay stuck for awhile and then begin to take tiny shuffle-steps forward out of the darkness and into the shadows of memories gone by.  Over time, one might move forward into the sunshine even just a little bit by focusing not on the loss, but the joy of what once was -- the connection  between two beings that filled you with happiness and joy for even but a part of your journey.  To celebrate the relationship that lasted only for awhile is a gift you can give to yourself.   Acceptance of the closed door named hope is essential to moving out of the shadows and into the light.

 As the quote says above, one of the hard things about loss is what do you do about the empty space the loss of connection leaves behind?  Some people don't want to fill the emptiness.  They feel that focusing on the space that once was filled is a way of keeping the memories alive.   It might seem as though hope is there -- even though the knowledge of reality says differently.  Denial keeps your feet from moving in any direction.  The fight to keep that sacred space empty can cause physical, mental, emotional and spiritual  issues.  Other people in our lives might not be able to understand why keeping the space free of anything else is so important to you and it could wear on other relationships.  

For others, filling the space might be easier.   They just get busy.  They get busy doing whatever it is their calendar can hold.  For some, they might try and throw meds in the hole or drugs at the space or pretend it doesn’t exist.  Some try to sleep it away.  The space can be filled.  It is our choice to choose what to put into the void.  I'm not saying this is easy by any stretch.  It's not.   Sometimes we don't choose arbitrarily.  Sometimes life helps us choose.  Either way, hopefully some day we can look back on that space of connection and name it and cherish it and turn our face toward the sun and life forward in our journey.

Does filling the space mean forgetting?  Absolutely not.    One perspective is that we are lucky to have had experienced something so beautiful along our path and that is why it is so hard to say good-bye.  It is possible to celebrate the lost relationship and fill the space they once held with healthy reminders or activities or new relationships that foster taking care of yourself during this time.    Self-care while spending time in the void is critical to moving ahead into the sunlight.  There also might be others in your sphere of influence who are fellow "void-dwellers" -- those people who are experiencing loss of their own.  Together you might find a safe place to reminisce and celebrate or express the gamut of emotions loss brings.  

Our life journey will bring losses of many types.  My hope is that we can realize that we are not alone on the path.  We just might need to look around for others who have emerged in the shadows or for those who have stepped into the sunlight of their own path to help. 

COMPASS POINT:  There are community groups called Griefshare that focus on paths of loss.   Perhaps they would be of help at this time in your journey.  Here is the link for more information:  www.griefshare.org.

Do more...

I saw this thought on my friend's FB page for her business and it struck a chord with me.  See, I have lived with someone who takes photos...when there are no photos to take except of herself.  I have also been the one to document the lives of my children in family - from behind the camera.  I love photos...I am a visual person.  I just organized over 2000 photos on my drive from the past few years (Way too many, I know!)   I also love words that create pictures...a good story grabs me from the start.

But as I saw this quote...it struck a chord in my heart.  Do more...participate in life....connect with those who are within touching range.

Yes, I have friends who aren't within touching range...some of them are the best friends of my life.  I keep connected through the phone and words and pictures and letters and cards...because I can't see them in person.  However, when I DO see them in person, I want to seize the moments...and remember...document them by A photo or two --- and let the rest be in my memory.  

I want to remember this while I am in my family room with the boys, sitting on the porch with my husband, visiting with friends for a weekend, or just sitting outside listening to the birds sing while the sun is setting.  I want to remember that the here and now escapes...and it is lost forever unless I notice and participate in what is going on around me.

Now, I'm not going to abandon the camera -- or my phone and throw them out the window.  What I want to do, though, is to be more intentional about living...not more intentional about documenting life around me.  Thoughts for today...

Why do we avoid endings?

This week I have been thinking about endings.  I have been wondering a few things so I will put them in first person:  one -- why do I struggle finalizing the end of things -- projects, papers, tasks, et cetera?  two -- why do I think there is something still left to salvage when there is a clear need for more??  three -- why do I not like to say good-bye?  four -- why do I fear endings?

I find it hard to finalize projects because in my mind there is always more -- more to learn, more to perfect, more to strive for, more to write, more to think, more to discuss, more to catch..fill in the blank, more.  It's not the thought that it's not good enough - there is just MORE.  I can hold that note longer, have more resonance, find the perfect piece of art for that spot, make the recipe a little better, gain more confidence, find the connection more deeply....there is always MORE.

There is a part of me that doesn't think on empty -- I look at a glass with a few swallows of water in it as a waitress comes by and asks if I want more -- and I think to myself -- no, my glass isn't empty!  I don't need a refill yet.  It's the same feeling with leftovers -- if there is anything left - why make something new until you have eaten what is left from before?  If there is one more paper on that notepad...don't throw it away -- use it before you open a new one.  One more tissue - one more squeeze of toothpaste...you get the idea.

I find it hard to finalize projects because in my mind there is always more -- more to learn, more to perfect, more to strive for, more to write, more to think, more to discuss, more to catch..fill in the blank, more.  It's not the thought that it's not good enough - there is just MORE.  I can hold that note longer, have more resonance, find the perfect piece of art for that spot, make the recipe a little better....there is always MORE.

Then my mind goes to good-byes.  I would rather say "See you soon!"  "See you later!"  "Until next time!" than say "Good-bye!".  This is something I am noticing in myself that I wonder about.  Good-bye seems final.  Good-byes to people that I love, are just plain hard.  Closing down my studio time after time of moving from place to place to start again has been just plain hard.  Seeing friendships wax and wane -- is a form of good-bye and is hard.  Remember those seasons of life I spoke of in earlier posts? Sometimes, I want the season for a lifetime -- my lifetime.  Not the natural lifetime of the other person, thing, flower...et cetera.  I ask myself -- is it selfish of me to not want things to end?  Or am I afraid?

Maybe I don't like endings because I am a natural born planner (working on spontaneity in my life) and I can't foresee or forecast the next leg of the journey.  The unknown paralyzes for a time -- until it is known...and then most of the time once I have moved into the next phase I say to myself - see?  This isn't so bad!  In fact, it's better than expected! Maybe my fear of the unknown keeps me from ending things that should have been ended long ago -- like me hanging onto certain projects that haven't been finished for years  that are stored in tubs in the basement.  Or I think about that book I still have next to my bed that I don't want to shelve because I haven't finished it but yet I pick up other books to read instead of reaching for that one night after night.  Endings.  Hmmmm....

Maybe this is what my new approach should be when it comes to good-byes or endings.  Maybe I need to replace my fear-based thinking with possibility-based thinking.  I need to remind myself that with every ending a beginning starts.

If I think in beginnings...and look forward to beginnings...then maybe the endings won't be so scary.

Weebles Wobble

  Remember the toy in the 1970's - -the Weebles?  I can hear the commercial slogan in my head "Weebles Wobble but they don't fall down."  It brings back many childhood memories and now makes me think as an adult -- how cool would it be to wobble or come dangerously close to falling and yet spring back upright again and not fall down!

I have been thinking about resilience lately:  what makes some people resilient and others not so much.  I have witnessed in my own life people whom I would label, if I could, a Weeble.  I see them rise above or walk within their struggles in creative ways and continue living.  They are heroes in my opinion.  It's not that they aren't down at times or don't complain about their circumstances at times, but I think the difference is that they don't get stuck in their circumstance.  That is the difference.  They don't get stuck.

I have witnessed these people in my life.  They are people who face adversity in many forms:  chronic physical illness, mental illness, hard times of many sorts, relationship fractures, seasons of darkness or distraction or feeling lost, and the list goes on and on.  I am attributing the difference of the Weebles to their "Wobble Factor".  Some people wobble.  Some people fall.  Some people wobble a little.  Some people wobble a lot.  Some people wobble right to the edge of falling over or even lay almost parallel to the ground at times.  Some people get up after falling once or twice.  Some people never get up again.

I have been reading a book by Dr. Brene Brown called The Gifts of Imperfection.  In her studies she has found that there is a connection between hope and resilience.  She says she has found that hope is NOT a feeling.  That is contrary to what I have always thought.  There are scriptures about hope all through the Bible that I have read my whole life.  What she says adds to my thoughts about hope and makes sense.  In her studies she found that hope is a way of thinking (ch.3 page 73).  "Hope happens when:  we have the ability to set realistic goals, we are able to figure out how to achieve those goals including the ability to stay flexible and develop alternative routes, and we believe in ourselves."

This makes sense to me.

I know that in my life I have experienced things that have made me wobble.  Some things made me wobble a little.  Some things have knocked me to the floor.  Some issues were short lived.  Some issues aren't going away anytime soon and might be there forever.  If I focus on the issue itself, life gets dark and I find I lose hope.  But if I can look around my issue -- over, under, around and make a goal of how to live with it, create a plan, put the plan into action and keep it flexible to change under added circumstances, and believe that I can move forward in my life in some positive manner, then in my thinking that is the "Weeble Factor", i.e. resilience which fosters hope.

Weebles Wobble but they don't fall down.


Lamentations 3:21-26 (NKJV)
This I recall to my mind, therefore I have hope. Through the Lord's mercies we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not.  They are new every morning;  Great is Your faithfulness.  "The Lord is my portion", says my soul, "Therefore I hope in Him!".

Pain Scale

I found this pain scale at my orthopedic doctor's office and it made me think.  Number one, I was drawn to the little faces that try to express the words to describe how a person might feel when one is in pain.  ( I like pictures as well as words.)   Number two, it got me thinking about the pain in my own life and if I could relate to what it described.   Of course, this little scale is describing physical pain.  I have had a few experiences with physical pain....from stepping on a nail as a kid...to a having the branch of a tree puncture my eyeball...to two root canals....to a frozen shoulder...to aches and pains after physical labor...to childbirth.  I could rate all of those incidents on the scale...with childbirth (without an epidural) and the exacerbation of the frozen shoulder in certain movements right up there at a 10. 

My mind then went beyond physical pain.   In my opinion there are three categories of pain:  physical, emotional and what I would call spiritual pain.  In my own life I have experienced all three of those types of pain.  I have experience emotional injuries from relationships that have sent me down a dark spiral into depression and grief.  My faith has been severely tested and I believe I have experienced what is called the "dark night of the soul" where I have lost my hope and faith and have ached inside my soul.  In looking at the scale above and modifying it for emotional pain, I believe that I have experienced a 10 on the emotional and spiritual pain scale, too.

Having spent my whole life interacting with people of all shapes, sizes, ages and abilities in many circumstances, in work and in my personal life, I have had the opportunity to  observe people who are in pain.  I have observed all three types of pain.  Some people are able to cope with their pain and continue to live life as positively as they can.  Others I have observed are crippled by their pain - stopped in their tracks.  They can focus on nothing but the pain and life seems to stop for them.  Sometimes it stops for a short season.  For others, they are paralyzed where they once were productive.

Thinking about that leads me to questions such as:  What makes some people push through their chronic pain?  What makes some people who have chronic or intermittent pain not be able to continue to live life?  What drives each type of person and where do I fit in those two generalized categories?  I know where I WANT to fit.  I want to be a survivor.  I want to be not just one who survives, but one who lives life fully even in the midst of the pain.  I want to affect those around me positively.  I don't want to be a complainer.   I want to be someone who doesn't give up.  I want to have hope until the day I die that things will improve...the pain will lessen or even one day disappear.

I don't have the answers.  I have no idea how others cope with the pain they experience other than I observe them adapt and accept and continue to move forward.  Does moving forward mean I don't have pain?  No.  Does it mean that I downplay the emptiness or spiritual darkness I experience?  No.  It doesn't mean that I ignore the pain and pretend it doesn't exist.  It means I continue to live.  I continue to pray.  I continue to believe that God is working on my behalf and sees my struggles.  I read the Scriptures.  I read or listen to topics that bring hope.  I lean on those that come around me for support and am thankful when someone reaches out to me and calls or sends a note or text.  It means I seek help for my pain whether it be in physical, emotional or spiritual therapy.  It means that I search for something good...even if seems small and minute.  It means that I remain thankful that I am still breathing and able to see the beautiful sunrise for another day.  In doing so, I cope.  I accept.  I live - and sometimes the pain dissipates or I become strong enough to more forward IN SPITE of it.