Care of the self (for mothers and others)

It’s not about a pedicure.  It is about taking note of how you are feeling.  Take note.

Photo by Mati Mango on Pexels.com

The term “self-care” is all over the internet, aimed at first (I think) at women who probably don’t take care of themselves particularly well, but more recently becoming a buzzword designed to sell products and services.

Radical care of the self isn’t about buying things or even about buying a service, such as massage or even psychotherapy.  Radical self-care is about taking care of yourself as if you counted, as if you are as important as the other most important people in your life.

So let’s deconstruct this.  What do you do to take care of other people’s selves?

I am guessing that you may be involved in material care of other people.  If you have children or a spouse, certainly you are involved in making a safe and secure home, procuring food, clothing and other things that are needed, and doing daily tasks that are required to maintain lives.   You are probably also engaged in helping those people with their emotional work.  That is, you may keep a weather eye out to see if your child is looking tired, or if your spouse is stressed or feeling harassed, or if there is something to celebrate from the events of the day.   You are the one who notices these things, who expands on them as appropriate (“Let’s tell Auntie June hooray for her promotion at work!”) and helps process them as needed (“Let’s talk about what happened at school today.”)  You are the one who is attentive to all of the nuances in the family system, keeping a light finger on the pulsing dynamics, noticing when the toilet paper is low and when spirits are low.  These are important facets of being a family member, and particularly with children, this work is essential to helping to grow up adults who can function emotionally.

The challenge of self-care, though, is to provide yourself the same level of concern and attention.  We generally know when things are very bad with us or when things are very good.  Those extremes are often easy to label because they are extremes.  But it is important to check in with ourselves regularly, not only when an extreme of feeling makes us pay attention.

What’s the purpose of this?    We are designed with early warning systems, actually, that can help us to know in advance when we are on the pathway to becoming overwhelmed.  We can’t tell that we’re on that path, though, unless we take a moment or two to check in and see how the current situation is sitting with us. How often have you suddenly felt like you couldn’t take one more baby crying, one more request for something, one more kid arguing?   Sometimes we experience this as if we are going from zero to sixty in an instant but generally we didn’t start at zero.  We started at about forty-five because we were so busy “holding on” or “holding in” whatever reaction the stressor was creating.  So then we get explosive, the kids get scared, the spouse gets defensive and angry and another lovely evening begins.

This is not the failure that you think it is.  You haven’t failed to be a perfect mother.  You have failed to pay enough attention to yourself to realize that something has to shift in order to avoid a blowout.

So what has to shift?  Okay, the handsome prince comes in on the white horse, gathers up the crying children, leaves a gourmet meal on the table along with a large glass of wine, and rides off into the sunset with the kids, the dirty laundry and the dishes.  Don’t worry, he’ll return in the morning with everything clean, happy and well-cared for.  This is my fantasy, right?

But what if my fantasy can’t be realized right this minute?  You need some self-care and that’s not about getting a pedicure when the baby is crying, dinner is burning on the stove and your spouse reminds you that some mission-critical tasks is yet incomplete.

It is about taking note of how you are feeling.  Take note.  Notice what your body is telling you and then notice what your mind is saying to you.  Decide where you will shift gears.  Will you change your location, your thoughts, or your body response?  You have control over all of these.

Notice your body.  Are you tense in your shoulders, jaw, and hands?  Can you feel energy rising up your back and pressure building that feels like you have to scream?   Can you try jumping up and down, shaking your head and your hands like a wild person, discharging energy in a way that isn’t hurtful?  Can you try that shift?

Notice your thinking.  Are you having thoughts that tell you that you can’t do this, or that they shouldn’t be the way that they are, or that there is something wrong with you?   Can you try just looking at those thoughts as if they are not yours?  Can you shift gears and remind yourself that this is a moment, just a moment in time, and soon there will be a different moment?

Notice your location.  Notice how your body and mind respond to the immediate stimulation.  Is it possible to change your location for a moment or two?  Can you step outside into winter’s cold, or put a door between you and the stressor, long enough for something to shift inside of you?

These are the baby steps of self-care in emergency situations.

From here, you have choices.   When you are able to check in and see how you are feeling, rather than being rushed away with the stress of the situation, you are able to make decisions about your next step.  What can you choose to do next that will support you?  Can you decide to take a moment to turn off the stove, sit and take a breath?  That is the beginning of self care.

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Discharge to Recharge

Most people are a little more stressed and tense now, during the COVID crisis, than usual. Some people are a lot more distressed. Everywhere you look there are articles about how to calm yourself, how to soothe yourself and your children, and how to cope and take good care of yourself.

Photo by Kat Jayne on Pexels.com

It is a good idea to manage our stress. When we are stressed, we are not our best selves. We are less able to make good decisions. We are less flexible in our thinking. We may be short of temper or spacey and dissociated. None of these will make self-isolating, physical distancing, or working from home any better.

We can do a lot to help calm ourselves. We can breathe more deeply, do relaxation or meditation, take a warm bath, read or do crafts.  All of these can be soothing to the over-stressed nervous system.

However, you can make your self-soothing activities a lot more effective by doing one simple thing first.

Think about your body’s energy system. I’m not talking about some esoteric or cosmic energy. I am talking about that energy that you use to live. You take in food and turn it into energy that keeps your tissues healthy and growing, allows you to move and think and dance and run, even to sleep and regenerate. When you are stressed your body is recruiting your energy to be prepared for the emergency. Energy is tied up in keeping your muscles tense, your gut disrupted, your thoughts racing. Your energy is being used to be prepared.

In this case, you are prepared to fight or run away from a virus.

However, that is pretty useless. No amount of fighting is going to vanquish this foe. Running away isn’t possible either. The energy of preparation is caught up in your system keeping you stressed and distressed. This is a very real manifestation of energy being blocked from moving through your body. You can turn it into obsessive thinking, excessive news consumption, overeating, body tensions and rigidity, and irritability. It can erupt in bouts of rage or crying or excessive cleaning.

Calming that distress is needed. However, you need to free up some of this energy for your self-soothing, calming activities to work effectively. You need to create an opportunity for discharge.

Please note! I am offering these simple ways to discharge energy for you to use at your discretion. Please remember that everything isn’t useful or recommended for everyone. Be self-aware and monitor yourself as you practice.  You can use these with kids, too, but remember that you’ll be monitoring yourself AND them.

Effective and easy ways to discharge

Shake Your Body

Shaking your body all over is a way to discharge energy that is simple, effective, and feels good.

Start from a grounded standing position. Stand up with both feet solidly on the ground. Feel your feet on the ground, and make sure you are standing solidly on both feet. Soften your knees, so that you can feel your whole leg from the sole of your foot up to your torso. You might need to bend and straighten your knees a few times before this is clear in your mind.

Think about your feet being deeply rooted in the earth. Just for a moment, imagine that your feet have grown a long, strong taproot connecting them way into the earth like an oak tree. Imagine that you are rooted so deeply that you may bend and sway in the wind, but you will never fall over.

From this deeply grounded place, start to shake your body. You can shake starting from your arms and shoulders, shaking your head, bouncing a little in your knees. Monitor yourself; you can do a little or a lot, and what works best for you will depend on you. Shake, shake, shake, and then shake some more. Notice any parts of you that want to shake and then shake them. Shake like you are in a big wind and then let the wind settle down into a small breeze, and finally, let your shaking come to stillness.

Check in with your body and mind. What did this discharge exercise do for you? Go to How the End Any Discharge Exercise, below.  After this, move into your self-soothing and comforting activities.

Twist and Growl

Start from a grounded standing position. Stand up with both feet solidly on the ground. Feel your feet on the ground, and make sure you are standing solidly on both feet. Soften your knees, so that you can feel your whole leg from the sole of your foot up to your torso. You might need to bend and straighten your knees a few times before this is clear in your mind.  (You might notice repetition here…that’s for a good reason.  Being grounded helps us to discharge. Every discharge activity begins from being grounded.)

Holding a hand towel or dishtowel out in front of you, begin to twist it. Let your hands really work that towel. Hold it up at eye height, look right at it (or beyond it), and twist. Narrow your gaze and stick out your jaw. Maybe make a growling noise. Grrrr! Damn towel! Damn coronavirus! Damn working from home! Allow yourself to think and say whatever angry thoughts might come to mind. Damn stress!

What else could you do with that hand towel? Shift your feet so that one is ahead of the other, shift your grip on the towel so you are holding one end, and use the towel to hit a bed or couch. Really get into the swing of it, using your whole arm, and keeping your eyes and jaw focused outward.  Try it with the other arm.  What is that like for you?

Then drop the towel and shake out your arms, your jaw, your neck. Let everything shake.

See if your body wants to do another round. If you are finished, head to How to End Any Discharge Exercise.

Stompa Your Feet

Start from a grounded standing position. Feel your feet on the ground, and make sure you are standing solidly on both feet. Soften your knees, so that you can feel your whole leg from the sole of your foot up to your torso. You might need to bend and straighten your knees a few times before this is clear in your mind.

Now stamp one foot. Just smack it into the ground. Notice what that feels like.

Stamp the other foot and take a moment to notice what THAT feels like. Similar? Different?

Now try stamping your feet one after the other. Really PUSH those feet into the ground, feeling your legs all the way up.

Check in and see what your hands want to do. They might want to form into fists, or even if they don’t, you can try that. Stamp your feet and shake your fists.

Now take a moment to rest, breathe in and out, and notice what you are noticing in your body and in your mind.

This might be enough discharge for you. You can check in on yourself and notice. Does my body want a little more of this? If so, continue. You can always stop whenever you want to.

To continue with discharge, re-engage the stamping and fists. This time stick out your jaw and narrow your eyes. You can say or think something like, “I don’t like this!” *

Depending on your level of privacy and how this exercise is sitting in you, you can go to town. You can stamp and shake and shout as much as you like. You can also do it just a little to try it out. Either way is effective and you are in charge.

How To End Any Discharge Exercise; forward bend

This exercise allows your body to integrate and assimilate what has been happening, and gives your mind a chance to catch up. See if you are able to stay attuned to body sensations before letting thinking overwhelm your body experience.

You will stop, rest, breathe and take in your experience by doing the forward bend. Keeping your feet planted, allow your body to hang over, letting your head hang loose, arms not quite touching the ground, and breathe into your belly there. Stay in this position as long as it feels right. When you decide it is time to come up, push your feet into the floor and allow your spine to straighten very slowly with your head coming up last. This way you minimize the likelihood of getting dizzy.

Once you come back up to a standing position, take a few moments to notice how your body and mind are doing. You may be more agitated, or angry, or you may have uncovered some sadness, or you might notice a different lightness in your shoulders and arms. Whatever you notice is your body’s response to the exercise.

Beaudette, 2014. Evening light with reflections.

 

Now is a good time to engage your self-soothing activities. Try lying down on the floor and letting your body rest deeply. You can use your hands to gently stroke your face, shoulders and arms, saying soothing things, or you can just let yourself be. Notice how your body naturally lets down after discharge. You may feel the impulse to turn on your side and curl up; follow that impulse, watching your body’s response. This time is about settling in and settling down.

* An important postscript about vocalizing and verbalizing while doing discharge work

It is okay to make sounds or shout out words: this is a way of discharging energy. Stomp your feet, shake your fists, stick out your jaw and narrow your eyes and say the words you want to say about this situation.

People often struggle to say out loud some of the things that they are saying in their minds. They judge themselves for the words that they say.  Vocalizing is a helpful way to discharge.  Use your discretion if there are other people in your house.

What should you say? Well, only you know what is in your mind, but if you want to discharge, here are some tips.

Short, declarative statements work better than long explanations. (“Stop it!”) (“Get out!”)

Stretching out the sound helps you to breathe more deeply. (“Stooooooop!”)

A long, drawn-out, loud “Nooooooooo!” will make you breathe more deeply.

 

Birdsong before breakfast

This morning I stepped out on the front porch to breathe in the cold air, see the sunshine, and wonder about my day.  The street is very quiet.  The school across the street lies empty, of course, for the last ten days.  The snow from yesterday was still quiet and solid; it was pretty cold.

Then I heard it:  the insistent rapping, rapping, rapping of a woodpecker across the neighbourhood.  It was probably a block or more away, but it was clear and persistent.

Spring is here.  This is early spring here in our part of the Maritimes, whether there is a pandemic or not.  There is strong, penetrating sunshine, crisp and still shocking cold, icy pavements, and birds eking out a meal from the insects that are embedded in trees whose sap is starting to run.

Photo by Tina Nord on Pexels.com

A little later, I took my coffee out to the back deck where the sun was strongest.  Not clever enough to wear my jacket, I knew I’d only be out a few minutes, but it was enough.  When I was able to still my mind, I could hear a mourning dove, probably two streets away.  Then a gull, closer.  Then I could tune in to some twittering in bushes near me.  There was a veritable spring symphony going on out there.

Birds are back in business.  It is romance season, time to get your songs fired up, mark out your territory, make note of food sources, shift from seeds to insects for some.  They don’t know or care about what agitates me.  They are intent, as always, on their own journeys, their own lives.  The intensity of their biological drives to survive and to help their species survive, one mating season at a time.

I know that spring isn’t an inevitable thing.  I know that our songbird stock is vastly small than a century ago.  I know that climate change or a volcanic eruption or an asteroid hit could make all of this go away.

But I am also warmed and comforted and encouraged by the continuity of the birds, and the procession of the seasons, and the feeling that life itself is our best resource in hard times.  Life has a way of asserting itself under all sorts of conditions.  When I tune into the assertive voices of Life Going On, I can remember that I am part of that, too, and so are you.

EDITED to add:  here is a lovely bit of Mozart with birdsong …and video

video

Silver maples in bloom. Costello 2020

 

Constructive Rest, or how to rationalize doing nothing for your own good and the good of humanity

Do you do too much?  Most of us do a lot;  we care for family members, work at a job, do mundane chores like laundry, shopping, yard work.  We may also take courses, do workouts, volunteer, have social relationships that require tending. We take online courses for self-improvement.  We belong to clubs;  we go to parent-teacher meetings.  We are busy, all the time.

Our society values doing.  Doing is highly regarded:  people cannot imagine “doing nothing” and letting that be okay.    Even vacations are highly organized events.  If they are focused on relaxation, we say things like “I needed a vacation.  I work really hard all year and this is when I take time off.”   It is almost like we need to have an excuse to rest or relax or enjoy.  Almost – dare I say it? – as if there is something wrong with wanting to have some free time.  There is more social value in being tired from work than in being tired from playing.

Asian elderly stress tired and holding his nose suffer sinus pain fatigue from hard work.

We generally are pretty good at working too much, and pretty bad at taking time off.

However.

Because of the novel coronavirus pandemic, some of us are now required to take time off.  We are being forced to do less because our activities have been curtailed, we are socially distancing or self-isolating and many people are not permitted to go to work.  This can be a shock to our functioning if we are used to overworking, and we may find ourselves struggling to let go.

Beyond this enormous change in everyday life, there are many unknowns in our future.  Even some of the things that we do know are pretty scary, like the nature of the illness caused by the virus.   With all of this going on, it is likely that your body and mind might be overcharged or over-activated.

How can you tell?

Here are some ways to check in with yourself.

Notice if you are able to pay attention as you usually can.  Distraction sometimes occurs as our nervous systems ramp up.  Does it take you three tries to do something simple?

Notice your thoughts.  Are you thinking more than usual?  Are your thoughts louder than usual?  Are they oriented to fearful topics, or stress-inducing ones?  Do your thoughts feel like a rushing river, and you are rushing right along with it?

Check out your body tensions.  Are you feeling tightness in your chest, your throat, your jaw?  Is your lower back aching?

Any or all of these can be due to excess stress or to anxiety.  Sometimes we don’t feel anxious, but our bodies are charged up in an unusual way.  We may have trouble settling down, easing into relaxation or sleep, allowing our minds to quiet.   Those things can tell us that our nervous systems are on alert, even if we don’t actively feel dread or fear.

Here is a radical suggestion.  Instead of DOING more, try doing less.

Try resting.

But not just any resting;  try constructive rest.  

If you are a high achiever, or someone who likes to Get Things Done, constructive rest might be just the ticket.  You get to rest and allow your body and nervous system to downshift, and you are doing something constructive!  This practice has a lot of forbears, but I first learned of it in a  wonderful book called BodyStories,  by Andrea Olsen (https://www.amazon.ca/Bodystories-Experiential-Anatomy-Andrea-Olsen/dp/158465354X/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=bodystories&qid=1584984957&sr=8-1).

How to practice constructive rest?

Find a quiet space (I know, that might be the hardest part of this exercise).  You’ll want to be able to lie down on the floor, so find a carpeted space, or use a yoga or exercise mat or towel to soften a hard floor.

Lie down on your back.  You can let your legs stretch out long, perhaps with a rolled-up towel under your knees to help them relax.  Or you can rest the soles of your feet on the floor, allowing your knees to rock gently to the center and support each other.  Turn the palms of your hands up and allow your body to just lie on this firm surface.

(Don’t rest like this lion;  lie on your back.  I put him in here because he looked pretty relaxed. And cute, if a large carnivore can be cute.)

Photo by Jad El mourad on Pexels.com

Take this moment to notice where your body contacts the floor.  Where do you notice the contact?  It is likely at your hips, the back of your head, the soles of your feet, and parts of your back and arms.  What do you notice, as you wait here for a moment?

Now bring your awareness to the very fact of the floor beneath you.  Feel the support and firmness.  The floor is connected to the ground, and the ground is the earth.  The whole earth is there to support your body whenever you want it to.    Is there any part of your body you could let down a little more?  Let that happen.

Now notice your breath.  You don’t have to change anything, or breathe more deeply.  Just allow yourself to notice your breathing as you lie on the floor. Feel the breath enter your body.   Feel the breath leave your body.  Keep watching and noticing.   What is happening in your breath as your body lets down?

Keep resting and watching your experience.  If you can stay in constructive rest for five minutes, you’ll notice changes.  If you can stay longer, you’ll notice more change.

Notice what you can allow to let go.  Notice what parts want to keep holding on, even with your awareness and desire to let go.  Consider all of your parts kindly; giving kind attention and curiosity to yourself.  What will it be like if I can stay here a little longer?  How do I feel about making a move to get up?

When you are finished resting, notice your awareness that you are finished. What is it like to feel ready to move on?  Can you find the place or places in your body that are giving you that message?  Before you move on, take a moment to assess what you got from this exercise.

There can be something profoundly satisfying in doing nothing and calling it constructive.  Try it and let me know what you find out about yourself in the process.

Oh, and helping humanity?  Whenever you can exhale and relax, the people around you can also exhale and relax. Keeping a centered, peaceful self helps everyone.

Photo by Tomas Anunziata on Pexels.com

Spring comes to the neighborhood

The crabapple tree is going to have a great weekend.  I can see her through the burgeoning green of the maple in my side yard.  The crabapple sits in my neighbor’s yard, currently housing an assortment of songbirds who are shuttling back and forth to a local feeder.  But the tree is focused on what’s happening in her flowers, not on the birds.  Birds are secondary, irrelevant.  The pink is deep, almost red, lightening at the edges of buds so swollen that they seem about to burst. The day is sodden and cold, so the buds are just waiting, just gathering moisture and strength, awaiting the next time the sun makes an appearance.  When that happens, well, you better watch out!  The crabapple is going to bloom, with a no-holds-barred eroticism that will pull every bee in a county mile into her orbit.  Watch out!  That sensuous hot pink, the seductive perfume….the tree will be humming as you walk by, humming and buzzing with the activity of a thousand winged things, all frantically doing what they do and the tree herself will be regal, vibrant, basking in the pleasure, taking it all as her due, enjoying the brush of stamen on pistil, the dusting of pollen, the industry of bees, the enjoyment of human passers-by.  Oh, what a weekend she will have.

The sensuality of spring is everywhere.  Birds are loud and demanding.  The frogs in the little pond across the street spend every evening declaring their intentions. The onions and potatoes in my kitchen bins are insistent:  sprouts happen, they tell me, and spring cannot be denied.

I feel it, too.  I feel the urge to create, to make something new.  I dig my hands into the soil of the garden, watch my mind generate ideas, stir up a new recipe in the kitchen.  Long spring days that last well into the evening, warmer weather that draws one outdoors, the smells and sounds and skin sensations of spring….all beg to know, what will you make?  What will you create?  What will you bring to this season of growth and newness?

 

The Being of Doing

This morning I had a large load of laundry to hang up.  I found myself rushing to get it finished, hurrying to complete the task because I had another task to complete or maybe just because I wanted to get back to my cup of coffee.   The point was that I was going to spend twenty minutes hanging laundry and I could do it with my mind in the next task or in irritation or in feeling rushed, or I could hang laundry and practice being present to myself as I did it.  So I decided to take this task moment by moment, and try to see when I was derailing and when I might actually be in the present.  Hanging laundry doesn’t take a lot of attention and I can attach many memories and thoughts to it, so it was a bit of effort to stay present.  In fact, I was thinking I’d write a blog post about hanging laundry and that was yet another way I escaped the present moment!  Ahh, the monkey mind can be a clever fellow.

The most potent sensory moment was in snapping out my cotton flannel pajama pants and tossing them over the line, feeling the cold wetness on my hands and the dryness of my skin, smelling the damp cotton and the briefest sense of the enjoyment of the future of pulling on clean pajamas….maybe that was a memory and not a projection, but in any case, it was being present to my own inner experience as well as what was coming in from my senses.   I might have enjoyed more spending that twenty minutes sitting on my meditation cushion in silence, but I still would have needed to hang the laundry, and so I am choosing to see that as part of today’s practice.  How can I BE when I am still doing?   This is one way.

Be-ing is something that I can access all the time.   When I am deeply into thinking or remembering or reacting or otherwise unaware of myself, I can stop, notice my sensory experience, take stock of myself (“what do I notice in my body NOW?”) and connect once again to the ground of Be-ing.  I don’t need silence, my cushion, or even a quiet space, although they certainly can help.  But I am “being” all the time, even when I am not able to notice it.

How do you find yourself in the midst of a lot of doing?

Checking in

Just in this moment, right now, check in with yourself. Notice what you sense in your body. Notice how you are holding yourself, your position in space. Then notice sensations in your body. What comes into awareness? Now check your breathing. Just notice your breath in your body. 

If you notice thought, that’s okay. That’s part of what you’re checking on. See if you can let the content go for a moment while you finish checking in. 

As you shift into this mindful moment, see if a desire to move or change something is there. See the desire before you take the action. If you do make a movement or other change, notice how you are then, too. Did you get what you were seeking?

This is how we get to know ourselves, on a moment by moment basis. Who you are in these moments is who you are in your life. 

What do you notice?

Finding my limits

I spend a fair amount of time thinking about how much I have to do, how much I want to do, and whether I can make those two points match up.  New Age-ish philosophy would suggest that there are no limits, that limits to oneself are entirely invented by the mind and thus can be transcended simply be believing that There Are No Limits.

But what if your limits reflect something good and healthy?  What if your “limits” are really your boundaries?   I have limits, for sure.  I have boundaries, physical, social, and behavioural boundaries that I don’t generally cross or allow others to cross.  These things keep me safe, maintain my integrity.

Boundaries are a body experience.  When you feel yourself sitting on the chair, or feel your feet pushing into the floor, you have an increased awareness of your body in space. As you push those feet down, you can feel your muscles become activated, feel the blood flow more vigorously, feel your inner space.  You know, without even having words for it, where you begin and where the floor ends.   And you also know that the floor can and will support you without invading you or making you conform or hurting you in some way.

However, if that floor was made of Jell-O, or was covered with nails sticking point up, you would have a different experience.  You would still have your boundary….where my body is….where the floor is….but your boundary would tell you that you cannot trust the floor to hold you, or to hold you without impinging on you.

Your BODY tells you that, when you explore the boundary between your body and the floor. Limits are a good thing, I tell you!

I have social limits as well.   I don’t let people touch me without permission.  I don’t say “yes, I’d be happy to do that” if I really am not happy to do that.   I do not invite people to my home whom I don’t want to see.   Those limits are also good for me.

In other places, I want to test my limits, and maybe even shift the boundaries a bit.  Getting older has actually, much as I hate to admit it, meant that my joints are stiffer and less flexible.  When I practice yoga, for example, I try to ease my body gently past some of these physical limits, or boundaries.   When I run, I notice that I can shift the limits….training has that effect.   But those are active choices I get to make.  I am happy to know what my limits are, and grateful that when I want to move past them, I can sometimes do that.  But more grateful that I have them firmly in place for my own safety.  Boundaries help us know where and what we are, and help us in relating to other people.  More on that part…later….

Just noticing….

I am fortunate in my life to be able to take a bit of time to contemplate, to reflect, and to consider my experiences.  I am not often in reactive mode any more: I don’t know if that is a change due to my age or to my life circumstances.  Maybe both…and maybe a lot of therapy in the middle has been influential!

Anyway, I have noticed two things lately that have made an impact on my thinking. First is this irony:    I recently posted with great joy about the silver maple trees preparing to bloom (see here).  Well, now they are open and my sinuses are responding:  I am foggy-headed, thick-thinking, and have a dull pain that moves around in my head.  Yes, I can claim the source but it still left me wandering around the house yesterday, wondering what it was I needed, what did I want, why was I feeling so…bleagh?

So I did what I know is the thing for me to do when I can’t figure it out.  I drank two glasses of water and headed to the gym.

What is it about the gym?  What is it about moving all that energy around in your body that makes you feel so much more like yourself?   I don’t have any answer for that, but the experience made me remember a “rule” I had made for myself back when I was running long-distance.  The “rule” was this:  “It is always better to run.”   This was a guideline for when I was waffling around indecisively.   Without fail, running improved my waffling and generally improved my sinus symptoms, even though I was often out in the offending allergens.

thanks to smileforme99 on fotothing

The second one is a bit different.  I have an injury to a shoulder:  something a bit intractable that I hope will be cured by strengthening my back and chest, providing more stability to a joint that is easily strained.   Today is a rough day for the shoulder, probably because of having to use it to work with back and chest.   I found myself wallowing, in that fogged-in, wandery kind of way, having work to do, having things to consider, having many items that probably needed my attention, but being completely unable to point my attention where I wanted it to go.  I finally acknowledged some organic realities:  I was hungry, my shoulder hurt, and more caffeine was not going to unfog this brain.  So I found food and ibuprophen and then took twenty minutes cuddled up under a blanket, gazing at my most miraculous blooming cactus and breathing.  I didn’t try to do anything at all, didn’t “try” to meditate, contemplate, or even reflect.   I just sat with what I was experiencing.

Clever barista at Second Cup

It seemed sudden, my awareness in an instant, my noticing that my shoulder was easing and more relaxed, my head was clearing, and my upper body beginning to relax.  For the first time I was able to see clearly how that low-level discomfort (read: pain) in my shoulder was creating tension in neck, jaw, head and face, and how creating some space there shifted everything.  Soon enough I could get up and move into doing something…not because I HAD to (I can always do what I HAVE to do) but because I actually wanted to…my body felt more like it belonged to me.

I have been a body psychotherapist for years and for years before that I was in training and in therapy myself.  Yet I am continually amazed to see how my body IS me, and how the messages from the parts of me other than my mind are so very influential.  Allowing for space and time to explore my inner experience allows me to see how that experience may limit me, or how it may free me.  The experience of chronic, low-level pain pulls on energy reserves and causes the body to tense as if to protect itself.   Finding a respite from the pain means that the body has a respite from its vigilance, and there is more energy available for living life.

Seasonal rituals to support your life…

Daylight savings time starts on March 13th.  Before that, we’ll have some enlightening experiences here in the Canadian Maritimes.   Daylight will come by seven am.  This is a Big Deal, considering that in winter, most of us go to work in the darkness.  On the other end, before the clocks change, it will be light-ish outside until seven.   And when the big shift happens, of course it will be light until eight pm.   Unfortunately, the sun will also be rising at eight am (again).   Living on the far western edge of the time zone means something different than living in, say, the middle of the time zone.

But messing around with the clocks is one of those time-honoured things that logically makes no sense whatsoever (you gain an hour?  lose an hour?   Not really…..twenty four equals twenty four) but we do it because everyone else does it.  What makes a bigger difference for most folks is the actual change in daylight hours, which is a function of seasonal change and the tilt of the earth’s axis.

On a practical basis, early morning light means I don’t have to carry a flashlight along with the poop bag when I walk Max the Labrador in the morning.  It means that when I head home from the gym in the early evening before supper I don’t have to turn on my headlights.  It means that outside activities can continue later into the day.   It also means that my internal clock, which appears to be set to “hibernate” from the short days in December, has re-awakened.

I love that re-awakening process.  I like to watch it in the world and in myself.   Today, gray and cloudy and peculiar as the light is for late February, I can look out the office window and see the buds on the silver maples.  They are near to bursting:  silver maple buds form in the fall and when the juices start flowing the tress flower very early.  You do have to look pretty closely to see those flowers:  these are not flaming hibiscus calling for attention.  They are pretty subtle, feathery dark red things that open far earlier than most.  I’ve been living side by side with silver maples for ten years now, and I love that they are a very early reminder that the light has changed and that spring is coming, just as inexorably as winter came a few months ago.

winter maples

Another sign that I am waiting for is the song of chickadees.  Chickadees are a very common bird here;  so common we might miss what signals they bring.   The characteristic “dee-dee-dee” call is heard all winter in our woods.   But spring brings another sound;   a two-pitched dropping tone….maybe like from the fourth to the second of a major scale?   Yeah, my music theory is a little sketchy…but the sound is also characteristic of late winter/early spring in this part of the world.  I have an ancient association with it from my own children’s childhood.  There was a little segment on Sesame Street about tapping maple trees.  The horses pulled a sledge through the woods, while the farmer gathered the sap, and the sounds were of the animals, the sledge and the “dee-dee” of spring chickadees.   My Dearly Beloved, who knows about this stuff, tells me that chickadee call is all about finding a mate.  It is most decidedly a spring thing, and becomes increasingly rare as the season wears on, birds are nesting and raising young, and that biological urge goes underground for another season.

I notice signs in myself.  I am eagerly awaiting the first of March so I can start feeding my houseplants again.  This is a rule I internalized from somewhere…stop fertilizing in October and start again in March.  I have no idea if there is a good reason to give them a break in the winter but I am willing to do it, as it supports my need for seasonal rituals.   The other thing I notice is my sudden interest in gardening again…what shall I try THIS year?   Where shall I put the tomatoes, for example?  What flowers worked best in the boxes last year?   Those thoughts, like the silver maples, have been in something of a dormant state for a few months.  I actually remember being relieved when I put the garden to bed in the fall…but a little time off from something can make it more attractive.

There is something, for me, at least, in seasonal awareness, and seasonal ritual.   We put little fairy lights on a timer in a big houseplant in October when the days get short.  When March 13th comes, it will be close to the time when we remove them, because the sun provides the light we seek.   There is comfort in these seasonal rituals, small as they are, comfort in listening for the chickadees and watching the maples bloom.   The world around us may be full of chaos, but earth turns, seasons change, and we go on.

Chickadee and Silver Maple blooms are Creative Commons licensed

Winter maples, Leslie Ann Costello