Hello dear readers: I am in Vermont for this ten days assisting at an annual training at the ToDo Institute. I am reposting a blog I wrote last October. There are times when we need to do what we can do.

I hope you enjoy this for the first time or as a friendly reminder of the last time. As you may imagine, it is beautiful here. A swath of vibrant colours and a house full of lovely and lively people, working hard.

 

It is easy when we are faced with unpleasant and devastating news to sink into seriousness, if not despair. Why not? We are often confronting  situations that require serious undertakings. And yet…one of the traits of  a mentally healthy person is the freedom to enjoy life. Take fall, for instance. I live in eastern Canada and everyday there are more red, orange and yellow leaves on the maples. Even though it is currently rainy, dark and damp there are moments, when the sun comes out, or you are running an errand and you catch a breathtaking glimpse of vibrant colours. When the rain stops your nose wiggles and there it is – a whiff of fall. The lucky ones may get to hear the crunch of dry autumn leaves underfoot or in the spokes of a bicycle.

Life can be tough. But we are tougher and we can help build our resilience when we develop the capacity to enjoy each other and the world around us. But to do that we need to say yes to beauty, laughter, learning and fun. We may not feel like it but we can make a date to take a walk around a lake, or through a forest trail, or visit an art gallery. Perhaps we call the friend who makes us laugh or take in a game or a concert. How about that pottery class that keeps catching your eye. These moments of noticing something outside of ourselves, help keep us sane. They nurture our spirits and boost our ability to bounce back.

I think ordinary moments offer tons of potential for enjoying life but we need to take advantage of them. Staying curious is one sure way to find enjoyment. Extending a helping hand is another. And one we may not give much thought to is not letting our feelings boss us around. If we wait to be in the right mood to do something we will miss many opportunities for joy. Not “feeling like it” is the exact prompt I need to get outside, look around, or pick up the phone and call a friend.

The truth is, life gives us challenges on a regular basis. We use our wit, skill and all the help we can get to take action on the things we can do something about. But don’t stop there. Use all those skills to find precious moments of surprise and delight waiting outside your door.

Notes

Note 1: “We think that the point is to pass the test or to overcome the problem, but the truth is that things don’t really get solved. They come together, and they fall apart. Then they come together again and fall apart again. It’s just like that. The healing comes from letting there be room for all of this to happen: room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy.” ― Pema Chödrön, When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times

Note 2: Thank you for stopping by. Canadian Thanksgiving is coming up in the next two weeks. Much to be grateful for and I am so fully aware of my gratitude for all of you. Kind regards, Trudy

Waiting for bad news

Getting bad news about our health can be devastating. Waiting to get the news from tests,  probes, and puzzled experts is fraught with anxiety and stress. And especially when all we hear is “inconclusive – let’s just wait and see.”

In the meantime the rash is now all over your body. The pain is worse. You can’t sleep. And you wonder if you will see your next Birthday. It is not only stressful and fearful, it gets to be embarrassing. The numerous calls to the Doctor, the visits to emergency, the tears falling unbidden, are part and parcel of living with this kind of uncertainty. There is not much worse than waiting and waiting and waiting, to see how bad, the bad news is.

Well, there is one aspect that makes it worse. Being alone. Even when you are with others, it feels alone, when the person who could provide you with the most solace is absent.

As bad as it feels at the time, it is part of the human experience. We were built for this too. As nervous as it makes us, we can survive the waiting and the not knowing. But here’s the important thing. We don’t just sit by passively hoping for the phone to ring. We do our own investigation.

I am aware of all the useless, if not harmful information on the web. But that’s not all there is. I often will check out something on MD Anderson or the Mayo Clinic or other trusted sites. They have useful patient information that doesn’t scare you to death but can shed some light on a certain group of symptoms. We can also be the annoying patient once in awhile and go see our Dr. yet again.

Playing an active role:

Learning to be proactive, with our own health needs, is not being a hypochondriac. Sometimes we need to keep knocking on doors to get to the bottom of the mystery. And in the meantime, while we play an active role and find different ways to sit and move and rest to minimize the pain and the fear, we can ask for the company of another human who we like. It’s great when that person is close at hand. But that is not always possible. Sometimes we rely on words of comfort delivered by phone or text.

The relief of knowing:

And then the day comes when the bad news, you were sure was coming, arrives. The difference is that we now go into action. More tests get set up; additional appointments with specialists; a course of treatment, if you are one of the lucky ones, gets presented.

For some no active treatment will be available. But there are still ways to improve the quality of life. The relief, even with the bad news is this. “At least now I know what I’m up against.” How many times have I heard those words uttered through tears and fear. I think about those waiting to hear. My heart goes out to them.

If you are one of those people there are so many suggestions I could offer, for while you wait. But I wouldn’t dream of writing them here as though “at least” you could do this. We honestly don’t know what it is like for person X  to live with this kind of uncertainty.

No advice giving

Well, maybe two things. Play an active role. Turn over all the stones. Make the calls. Get the second opinion. Ask for company and/or help, when you go to appointments. Even if you live alone you don’t need to go through the whole thing alone.

OK. There is a second thing I want to say. When someone is waiting to hear, it isn’t helpful to say to them, “I’m sure it will all be ok. Don’t worry.” Better to say, “You must be very worried. I hope you get some answers. Can I do something to be helpful?” Or just do something. A bouquet of sunflowers can help.

I know several people waiting for answers. I’m thinking of you and you and you. It’s amazing what we humans can sustain. How resilient our bodies are. How strong and resourceful we are. How our bodies want to help us get back to equilibrium.  And sometimes we simply need to let the tears fall for a few minutes or a few days.

However, if you dear reader have strategies you use for waiting I welcome them here, either in comments or by email to me. I can always post them anonymously, if you prefer. If anyone wants a few suggestions of what to do while waiting you are also welcome to contact me. There are no formulas or magic pills, but that doesn’t mean there are no handholds or strategies to help. Help is everywhere.

I leave you with a small poem from a little known poet whom I like.

 

In this time of waiting

 and not knowing

how things will unfold,

 may you find a pool of calm,

a place of peace and rest

deep within your soul.

by Nancy Gibbs Richards from A Small Steadying Sail of Love

Notes

Note 1:)  Take heart and be a nuisance if need be. And always be kind to yourself.

Note 2:) A big shout out to those earth angels that always appear just in the nick of time to be the light and the strength for someone in need. You are the best and you are everywhere.

Note 3:) With thanks to all of you for stopping by here. I appreciate you. Warm greetings, Trudy

 A series of unfortunate events: some of them ordinary

This past week there have been a series of unfortunate events happening to people I know, including me. Everything from pain; allergic reactions causing severe itchiness; broken oven; internet and phone not working; teeth problems; horrible diagnosis; still waiting for test results; car problems; zoom link that didn’t work; needing to be in two places at once (that was interesting) mental and emotional fatigue; not enough time  or resources. I could go on.

Ok, I will go on. It was the call to the service provider, where you wait for 25 minutes with phone on speaker, and as you are ready to give up, the music stops and the pause arrives, just before the technician is supposed to answer. (Whew!)

But then, instead of the technician, an automated voice is asking you to please take a short survey to rate the service you just received. And you want to shout into the phone, “Wait! Service didn’t happen yet.” Of course that is useless. There is nobody there. Nope! It’s back to the end of the line to start over.

The truth is that there is nothing unusual about any of these things. Except to the person they are happening to. And even then, we can often roll with the inconvenient ones, but once there is a bit of a pile-on, we can get discouraged and fed up, even with the best of intentions and skills.

Once in a while it’s ok to just say your version of “the heck with this.” One of the reasons that I love and admire Darlene Cohen, author of Turning Suffering Inside Out, is her unlimited warmth and understanding towards ordinary and extraordinary human suffering and fallibility.

She understands more than most that we can’t be on our best behaviour all the time. Some days we need to go to bed with a bag of chocolate and a whole series of our favourite Netflix show. (Or equivalent) Sometimes we may need to cry for three days or throw a glass into the fireplace or something dramatic that doesn’t hurt anyone.

It’s ok to not be the poster person for anything.  We do the best we can, most of the time. And sometimes we don’t. Sometimes we sit at the bottom of the cliff and we have no energy at that point to do anything about it.

We are human beings. We get discouraged and weary. There are occasions when it all feels like too much.

Go ahead, indulge for a bit. Give yourself a break. It won’t last. And if it does there are things we can do to encourage ourselves and each other along.

These words from Barbara Kingsolver’s book High Tide in Tucson, are close by when I need them. She shows how this transformation is possible, even when our life is in ruins. She also shows the reality that there will be many ordinary times when we will be in need of pulling ourselves back up.

I hope you all, dear readers, will cultivate a certain tenderness towards  yourselves, at those times. Cut yourselves a little slack. There are many pieces in the puzzle of our lives. We don’t see the whole picture yet.

Notes

Note 1:) I know I could have written about all the things that are going right and all the help we get. This is unequivocally true! We want to keep that in mind. But I also want to remind us that there will be days when we wallow a little. There are times that we don’t want to hear “at least this or that didn’t happen…” And that is ok too.

Note 2:) You know that I appreciate you turning up here and I will never grow tired of thanking you. With appreciation, Trudy

 

 

How could these beautiful irises not be enough for a day or a lifetime…and yet we always look for more. Perhaps our obligation to the world is  more like expressing our jaw dropping appreciation.

 

Wandering around in a state of “wonder.”

 

Mind Wanting More (an excerpt)
by Holly Hughes

But the mind always
wants more than it has —
one more bright day of sun,
one more clear night in bed
with the moon; one more hour
to get the words right; one
more chance for the heart in hiding
to emerge from its thicket
in dried grasses — as if this quiet day
with its tentative light weren’t enough,
as if joy weren’t strewn all around.

The wonder of enough:

I deeply believe we are all doing the best we can. (even when it seems like we are not) Include yourself in your circle of compassion. I have grown to cherish our imperfections, the messy business of living, the falling down and getting up, the joy that arises out of the blue. The fact that not everything works out the way we had hoped – and that we sometimes don’t have a clue what the next steps should be. To love and be loved.  To help and be helped.  To accept our differences. To pay attention to all the beauty and all the support we receive. To laugh and to cry. The miracle of the everyday. It is enough and I am grateful.

NOTES

Note 1:) I am home once again, finding my bearings, catching up, grateful for these last weeks of summer and  a heart overflowing with rich, significant, joyful  and life changing memories. Thanks to all who were part of my adventures from coast to coast.

Note 2: ) I appreciate, you, dear readers. I find it incredible that you take the time to open my weekly emails, and when you can, read what I write. Thank you! Take heart and courage as you wake up each morning, doing the everyday things that need doing. Stay curious and pay attention. And with that, making the world a better place for those around you. See you next week, Trudy

It is Sunday and since I will be in the mountains for the next few days I am writing my post early.

I want to tell you about yesterday – Saturday. It was a day that comprised everything.

The morning was openhearted joy as my friend Nancy and I welcomed the Japanese contingent to Calgary. Smiling faces, arms waving, hugs and tears of joy. Even their mountain guide, Katsu Goto, of Waputik Canada, was equally congenial and enthusiastic. Happiness!

Some members belong to a bereavement group called Blue Skies. And we were all aware that they landed in Calgary under brilliant blue skies. Seemed like a lucky omen for their days ahead.

 

 

After waving good bye at noon as they boarded their bus for Lake Louise, our next stop for the afternoon was Eden Brook.

 

 

Here we joined with hundreds of others to celebrate the life of a dear friend.

Open hearted sorrow was evident on all of our faces, arms kept busy with comforting embraces, and tears of sorrow and of loss flowed silently.

Such a contrast. And yet…

The day represented in vivid detail the continuum of life and death. Lives fully lived.

The remarkable thing was that the afternoon went way beyond being sad. We were all awestruck as we listened to the stories of Kevin’s life and learned more about this man who so many loved. What was most powerful was how he lived, worked, played, gave of himself, and how he loved. Everyone who spoke told stories of how Kevin overcame obstacles, never gave up and laughed with delight through it all.

Blind as a teenager he lived boldly and refused to see himself as a victim. Kevin stories, came one after another, of learning to drive (in a field), playing hockey, skiing, waterskiing, climbing mountains, starting a recording studio, changing careers, and riding a tandem bike from Calgary Alberta to San Jose California to support cancer patients. Kevin built houses, fished, was a devoted father, grandfather and husband. Nothing was too much trouble. On top of that he was a Paralympian. And he raised hundreds of thousand of dollars for charity.

Kevin was adored by his family and friends, and was an inspiration to everyone who knew him. His family was his biggest love and most important achievement.

It is clear that the way to honour Kevin’s beautiful and loving life is through our actions. Not replicating his but not holding ourselves back from learning, trying new things, loving, laughing, and taking care of each other. Living with outstretched arms.

What counts in life is not the mere fact that we have lived. It is what difference we have made to the lives of others that will determine the significance of the life we lead.” – Nelson Mandela

Notes

Note 1:) Yesterday I was inspired by 12 Japanese who have been impacted by cancer and who are in their 60’s and 70’s. Putting in the effort to train, execute, travel to another country to climb mountains, and demonstrate what we can do to live actively, fully, and joyfully with illness and while ageing.

Note 2:) Yesterday I was equally inspired by a dear friend whose life abruptly ended.  He too lived boldly and fully, overcoming many obstacles. Never giving up. Giving more than he took. Waking up every single morning and declaring: It’s a great day to be alive.  A deep bow, to Kevin. And sincere condolences to his family.