No way To the Top

Living on the top floor of an apartment building has its perks. There’s no one above you making noise during the night, rooms are–at least in my building–larger and apartments are further apart on the top floor. And while there are stairs few people use them. That is until the elevator ceases to function. Which is where I’ve found myself for the past five days.
Having a debilitating condition with limited muscle strength, I’ve only managed to make the climb down and back up the stairs once. While the action netted me an afternoon and evening on the couch, heating pad and pillows lending comfort, I am grateful for several things. First and foremost–THE STAIRS! Without them I would truly be stuck. Second I possess the ability to traverse them–albeit limited as it is. And Third, I had assistance of friends making sure I managed the duration.
I am in the minority of those who made the descent. The health limitations, fear of falling, or refusal to even try have caused most to choose to remain where they are. A few happily so–typically the ones who seldom have reason to leave, and others filled with anger and complaint for their imposed inconvenience. The latter playing the blame game of responsibility. Their claims point fingers at the resident who for reasons of her own uses the elevator countless times up and down for no appears reason other than boredom. They blame the management for their imposition–they should have thought a head to the limitations of the device, as if sensing its impending failure–all the while ignoring the fact that the elevator is maintenance every month. The fact of the matter is that the elevator is OLD. We’ve been assured that the necessary parts have been ordered and the device will be working just as soon as it can be made safe for occupants.
Ode to the accomplishments of the elevator which has conveyed the occupants of the building for decades. I’m sure the device has been down in the past. In my few years this is the first time it has failed so epically. Yes, I’ve been stuck a few times. In my desire to get to the top quicker than it was able to do so was disappointing. Sharing the elevator meant stopping at a floor other than mine reveals the elevators lack of favoritism–all occupants are treated equally. No amount of pushing the UP button will improve the operation of the device. Eventually it gets to where it is needed to be. Lastly…if you’re unhappy with the service TAKE THE STAIRS! Yes, it means working harder. I’m reminded of a previous blog. After comparing a friends steps to an upper level as “The steps from hell” I can still hear her response of, “but your ass is gonna look great.” every time I complained.
Life is like an elevator. It has ups and downs. It’s shared with others. Sometimes it leaves you stuck for awhile. And when life seems to be limiting you, it may just be making you a better person for your efforts. So my friends and fellow travelers, if your journey is interrupted, stuck or moving full speed ahead–Live Loving the Journey.

My Aha Moment

Have you ever struggled with a concept or a relationship that just seemed like you were the only participant ? There comes a time when you have to decide if your contribution is worth the effort. The underpaid employment opportunity that never panned out to the promises. You believed the travel agent only discovering the vacation came no where near the hype.
When danger is immanent we protect what we value. Yesterday’s tornado revealed what the folks in my building valued…pets and pet food including bottled water and potty pads were taken to the lowest level to weather the storm. Later, after the danger had passed, cel phone messages were answered letting family and friends know their status.
My “aha” moment came as I, unable to make it to the designated downstairs safe zone remained the soul person on the third floor…and had not been missed. It was a sobering thought. Of course family, local and afar, were aware I was safe. Yet. I did some deep thinking in the hours that followed about my priorities.
Today I’m still recovering from the back injury that sidelined me yesterday. Doing some reevaluating from my comfy couch. I have had one visitor today and she was seeking chocolate. No, she hadn’t realized I wasn’t in the safe zone yesterday…but can be forgiven since she’s blind.
So a little battle weary I continue living and loving the journey…just a little wiser. Perhaps the road ahead is about to turn.

Are you in a RELATIONSHIP with your Toothbrush?

I find myself trying to explain how I make decisions based on my relationship with God and how it compares to a religion about God. As my followers can attest–anything is fair game to a writer. That said…

There has been much debate about the term “religion” in the role of its followers. Jihad extremist’s violent attacks, suicide bombers, self denial. Even the peaceful protest for the unborn all claim a sense of spiritual direction from their leader to do what they do in hopes of being “good enough” to receive blessings from God.

I pose the question Do you brush your teeth every day and if so Why? Most will respond a resounding YES! Of course you do–and think everyone should. You have encouraged your children to brush diligently every day. (One might say you brush your teeth “religiously.”) Not in a desire to please the all powerful Tooth God with blind obedience. You prefer the outcome of your actions (fresh breath, strong teeth, bright smile, their role in speaking clearly) to the actions of not brushing (decay, lose, pain) Brushing your teeth every day is a habit–a very good habit. One you cultivate because you desire a good result. Does this mean you are in a relationship with your toothbrush? Of course not. Your adherence to the rules of proper dental health care is to receive/avoid a specific outcome.

Many individuals serve their God in much the same manner…obedience out of habit or fear of retaliation. Activities like church attendance, prayer, self denial, behavior modifications all performed because they have been taught to obey or face damnation. I know I did. For years I did all the “right” things living on a form of Christian autopilot. I knew all the songs, read the scriptures every day, prayed before bed and meals and for the lost…all the while hoping for the promised outcome for my obedience. And I did it so well I convinced myself it was the only way to live. Yet it lacked sincerity and joy. Even though I had risen to the rank of a licensed preacher I was a fraud

To remedy this I had to start all over, reevaluate motive, question every action. It was imperative I remove myself from the “churchy” situations–it would have been so easy to slip back into old habits. Only by breaking those habits was I able to establish an honest relationship with God.

Today, my choice to be part of the Christian faith is not one made out of fear but love. I no longer feel obligated to embrace every aspect of church life. I have a relationship with my loving God. I have fellowship with Him through prayer. I praise Him openly and often and I know HE is with me on my journey. My friends, stop the struggle. Live loving the journey and every time you brush your teeth use that time to thank God for his willingness to have a relationship with you.

Finding Comfort

Happy New Year! My new year has started off with a resounding BANG!!! And not from the anticipated midnight fireworks. Rather in the form of an emergency appendectomy. Which is how I find myself now with a plethora of new blog material while recuperating in a Texas hospital.
Day three post operative has afforded me the opportunity to observe and compare several differing nursing philosophies and styles.. the seasoned veteran of the profession provided a glimpse at how everything worked together especially when starting a new IV proved problematic. Trying to tame the IV pump seeming to manufacture its own bubbles provided multiple parties the chance to show their expertise each time the wail of the machine sounded.
Male to female, young or mature, trainee to seasoned, I’ve had them all. Regardless the status each with the same goal–that of assisting my body in the healing process.
One particular participant, a trainee from outside the US proved interesting. Her attention to detail aided by the many notes she used made very sure I was stable before standing and had an adequate amount of space to move about before leaving me to stand alone. We chuckled together at the foibles and faux pas as she learned the ropes of patient care. Her repeated query as to my “comfort” had me mystified until I realized she was asking if I needed to use the bathroom. Suddenly it made sense. She had no frame of understanding of the room designated as a place to relieve oneself of urine other than to consider its ability to comfort an overly full bladder.
Consider that we often refer to said room as a “bathroom” yet not to bathe, a “restroom” in which we do not rest or by a male nomenclature.
I hope as we commence our journey in a new year we might all find a sense of comfort. Comfort at the knowledge the year has no baggage, offers the opportunity to start fresh and brings with it joy of new beginnings. Keep humor close at hand as I most certainly will at least for awhile each time I enter my “comfort room.” Live loving the journey, my friends, and smile.

Choosing Life…

Life, in the eyes of a medical professional, is determined by beats and breaths. This is true wheather the patient is a newborn babe starting out or a loved one taking their final breaths after a long and happy life. Pro-life and Pro-choice supporters can argue their views on when life begins. But most will agree when it comes to life’s final hours there is a great difference between having a life and living a life.

Living is in part what one chooses to do with the span of time between that first lusty breath and that final feeble gasp. Recently, a 29 year old female made the decision to die on her own terms. Facing an abbreviated life from a terminal disease she chose to live her final year without treatment. She made national news by announcing she had chosen to choreograph her own final breath. The date was set and after saying her good-byes, she quietly left this world.
Reading many comments on countless articles, before and after her death, left me wondering. No, I am not an advocate for –or against those states providing this death with dignity statute. I am also not a 29 year old cancer patient facing a death sentence.
Some say her decision was selfish, others applaud her actions. She chose to live in the short life span she had and end that life on a day of her choosing. Her actions define clearly the difference between life and living.

Finding myself facing one of life’s challenging change points–in no way near a comparison to what Brittany Maynard faced…I find myself wondering if my current life path will leave a legacy. No, I’m not suicidal, just taking inventory. Am I truly living or am I just alive? This question was posed to me yesterday as I was being examined by a new doctor.

After baring my back in order to listen to my lungs he paused. I assumed he may have been warming the stethoscope so as not to place the icy device against my warm flesh. He was not…he was reading my newest tattoo. Turning to look me in the eye he responded, “‘Live Loving the Journey’ (what is now inked on my back) That is a very good philosophy to have. Let us hope this evaluation will allow you to do just that.”

There was a feeling of peace as the exam continued. Much later his query returned…discovery came to me slowly. After years of role playing through dysthymic relationships, my new life philosophy emerged. I gambled, and took a risk in order to learn how to feel…to live being real for perhaps the first time. Was it the best decision? I will never know. What I do know is what it feels like to share passion, to listen without words and how to let go.

Time to take the emotional training wheels off. I’m better having memories of one genuine relationship than to have countless, faceless, meaningless ones. Even if it means for now my heart feels wounded. Learning to feel takes energy and action and yes, is not without pain. Feeling is the key and a giant leap forward on my journey.

So for now…Walls up, heart a bit battle worn and alone but still living the journey and learning to love.

Too Hot to Handle

Recently I burned my hand while reaching for a very HOT curling iron. Some how I managed to grab the ceramic barrel instead of the handle. Leaving behind a palmful of skin for my efforts. In that moment a host of “home remedies” flashed across my mind…I remembered my mom saying to put butter on a burn. Now I love real butter and enjoy it on a variety of foods but somehow it just didn’t seem the right thing to do. Aloe is a natural wonder for burns…but only if it is available. Then I recalled the flour fix, and grabbed a handful of the white powder holding it tight in my fingers as long as I could stand. Rinsed in ice water I expected to see my pealing flesh. To my astonishment I had not a single blister. My palm was red and tender, as were my fingers, but not even one blister. What have I learned beyond the obvious? Some may say I must have desensitized my hand so the burn didn’t hurt. But let me tell you, if not for the “little ears” present I would have exhausted my vocabulary of every word of lament as a result of the burn. As I examine my hand I can sense where the blistered flesh had been. Yet beyond that. there was little to show for my blunder.
Now I had a choice to make. I could either learn from my experience or choose to never again use the implement or anything resembling what caused the pain. Sounds crazy right? My closed minded friends might argue their point that life is always BLACK or WHITE with no room to grow and change. It was not the device that caused my injury–it was my distraction. Life is filled with distractions. It is only by learning how to handle those hot topics that we grow. Mere avoidance, head in the sand, mentalities do little more than add to an already distracted mind. The journey is so much more enjoyable when faced head on full throttle. I know I do.
And friends, yes, I still use the offending hair care device. Each time I do it is a reminder to handle those hot situations with care. My journey continues as I live loving the journey.

The Shattered Jar

There has been an illustration about time management shared for many years. It involves a large pickle jar and a variety of items that fill it up: rocks, gravel and sand. And much debate over each addition as to whether it filled the jar.
The lesson learned is to put the most important things in first (big rocks) while letting the rest filter through. I have even used this concept while teaching. Contemplating this philosophy today I think the concept needs revisiting–and possibly revising.
I have often felt like my pickle jar was all used up with no room to take in anything. The obvious remedy was to change some previously made life choices. How to do this without upending the whole jar? Take out one thing and rearrange the remainder add something new. It is all a game of trial and error–choices and risks.
What games of chance are you playing with your life? Are you mixed up in something that needs pulled out of your jar? In need of changing some life paths? Is your pickle jar too full or ready to spill over? Maybe your life course, like mine. has been ripped apart to the point you need a brand new jar to start over. Shattering the jar of conformity and legalistic teaching I had previously followed was my new beginning. Making wiser choices I refilled the empty places in my life and heart with no regrets.
For you my friend, and fellow traveler I suggest you take steps to insure the big things get put in first and let the rest fall into their proper place. Then time to time revisit the jar, making needed adjustments to keep it safe by guarding your heart. Shards of the shattered pieces of starting over are messy and painful lessons. The journey is yours to make and live and love.

Bedazzled

Have you ever put a positive spin on a bad situation? Not to be confused with making the best of a negative. The battered wife, for example, who will defend her abuser by rationalizing he didn’t beat her nearly as bad this time. We fail to remove ourselves from a bad environment because we have bedazzled it to a point we believe our own delusion.
Grandmother stood at the door patiently waiting for the family pup to return following his evening constitutional. The little girl asked why the puppy was outside but not the kitty. Grandma explained that the puppy went potty outside and it would be very unpleasant if he were to do that inside. Understanding dawned as the little girl remembered the cat had a special box for that purpose, “Oh right the kitty has a glitter box.”
The two words bear little similarity beyond rhyming and were not interchangeable One would never confuse glitter for litter. Yet there are those who try to glitter coat the negatives in their lives often attempting to entice us to follow.
Have you ever been fooled by the allure of fairy tale promises? That ‘too good to be true’ deal being offered. Most will admit that such offers rarely deliver. Hence the concept of “If it sounds too good to be true, then it is.” Unfortunately, too many people only realize after the fact that the job promotion, the corner office, the sweet deal–is nothing more than used kitty litter.
There is no glamorizing deceit. No amount of glitter should entice you to stay in a position, relationship or situation you know is unhealthy to your soul, spirit, mind or body. Don’t be blinded by the glitter…Live loving the journey seeking out the real thing.

Memories

There is appointed a time for all to die, yet it still manages to catch us by surprise or at the very least unprepared when those we love make that final journey. For those who have yet to experience the death of someone close to heart—there is no formula to suddenly know how to grieve. Death is inevitable, loss is loss and everyone grieves in their own way.
The woman lay so very near death. Her journey had been one with tremendous joy and love but not without struggle. Disease fought hard to rob her of her joy…and often succeeded. Yet love covers a multitude of wrong. Hiding in the shadow of the disease—a death sentence no one would ever choose if given the choice. Robbed of physical control she fought to maintain her grasp on every thought.
Privy to her thoughts for a period of time I consider myself blessed to have known her. To know she loved deeply, appreciated much and feared the end more than any other specter–not in the sense of the finality death brings but for the toll it would take on her family.
The time neared and it seemed as if her worst fear was now a reality…body and mind ravaged yet with the knowledge that her care was a heavy burden. She often prayed that her end would come quickly so as to lessen the duration for those she loved…it did not.
Her breathing shallow family members gathered to say good bye—thankful she is at least resting free of pain. The vigil begins. Though death was near, her end allowed for a respite. Jamaican’s call this “traveling” as a loved one lingers. The mind recalls every happy moment to relive it once more—to return at the completion full circle. Only then will body and soul part company to be reunited with those who have gone before. For her a husband, a son, parents long gone.
Socrates is quoted as saying “Death may be the greatest of all human blessings.” Yes, those who remain grieve for their loss but not for her release of pain. Her young great grandson—perhaps too young some might believe to grasp what was happening, is already well versed. He has been here before. His prayer a final farewell, “Jesus, God… thank you for taking my Grammy to Heaven to be with Grampy and thank you for leaving her ashes here for us.”
Ashes to ashes, Dust to Dust. The time of remembering shared. Memory stones containing ashes of the pair were incorporated into each stone. Stories were shared amid laughter as jazz tunes played in the background.
The celebration had come to a close…the plan was to launch lanterns set afire to rise, soaring on the winds releasing the grief of those who remained. One went soaring as if to lead the way and the earth behind…the second faltered —then burst into flame as if to say, “I will not be quenched. My fires will always remain in the hearts of loved ones.”
Yes, Grammy was feisty and stubborn. As I watched the lantern burn I was reminded of the fire that burned inside this woman. She left a legacy and wanted her friends and offspring to know she was still keeping an eye on them and so they better behave. I imagine on every birthday as candles are set ablaze, thoughts will turn to Grammy and smile.

Turn it Around

Have you ever stopped to look at something simple only to discover on closer examination a new concept with tremendous depth from the observation? I have had many such observations but few as remarkable as that of the roll of bathroom tissue.
It seems there are many who battle over the “right” way to reload a roll of bathroom paper–personally I have never had a preference beyond the sincere hope that whomever used the last of the paper would in fact replace it with a fresh roll. However, there are “over the toppers” vying for supremacy against the ” down unders” dividing households.
A dear friends mother shared her logic at having a preference as to the direction of the paper. Individuals suffering with chronic pain are always on the lookout for ways to be more independent. She had discovered there is less of a struggle to reach the paper if it is dispensing from the top down and not the bottom up. Turning the roll around I found she was absolutely right. Changing the distance between roll and recipient made a huge difference. As one who struggles with muscle pain I could see how this could be the difference between self reliance and needing assistance at a particularly vulnerable and personal time.
So what is my point–after nearly a 3month hiatus from blogging I admit to being a bit rusty you didn’t really believe I had only bathroom habits on my mind did you? My point is this, as you continue on your journey, don’t be afraid to help those struggling, you may just learn something. Even if to you it may seem insignificant.
If you are currently struggling with a difficult issue, stop–try turning it around to see it from the opposite side. By changing your thinking it might surprise you and find the solution you were looking for. Doing something the same way over and over expecting different results is Einstein’s definition of insanity. After years of conditioning to respond only one way to certain life issues I now find it liberating to be responsible for my own decisions and actions.
My success or failure rests in my own hands. I am responsible for the outcome of those decisions. Yes, I do make poor choices from time to time–with no regrets. Every choice, every motive, every decision has had something to teach me. With each lesson I move closer to the me I was created to be.
Perhaps you are like me and your answer is waiting one step away and all you need to do is turn around. Change your viewpoint, look at life from another’s point of view. put a little distance between you and your troubles. Just keep moving and live loving the journey.