HOW TO LIVE BIG IN A SMALL PLACE
How to have a big life when it feels small, when you are not able to do the things you used to do? What steps can you take to make things feel wider and more spacious when your own steps might falter and be wobbly? Let's look at some concrete things you can do to open up the windows of your life which I have developed over the years, through various crises and illnesses.
When I was put to bed for superficial thrombophlebitis after the birth of my second child (wrong remedy as it turned out), I was shocked.
How would I care for a 3 and 1/2 year-old hyperactive toddler in nursery school, a new baby, and myself with my husband at work? Here's what I did:
*I arranged a craft table in the bedroom with crayons, paper, kid scissors, clay, and more to keep my first-born busy. I piled up tons of VHS kid films from the library (brought by a neighbor) to watch with my son on the bed.
*I called a babysitter to come and pick up my kid at nursery school each day and deliver him home.
*I told my friends I needed food brought in. Social media is great for this, though it did not exist at this time.
*My husband got me a second-hand laptop so I could write, and I did--sitting up in bed, writing poems about the Westward journey. ("Mississippi Mud.")
*I used the phone to stay in touch with friends, reach out, and sometimes even offer comfort and help to someone else.
*I did floor yoga for 20 min. a day so I wouldn't completely lose all tone in my muscles.
While cranky and sometimes overwhelmed, I had a system set up--a container for our problems--and a project to give me hope.
I knew of an older woman who found herself bed-ridden, mourning the active, involved person she used to be. But then someone from her church suggested she get the parish list of people to pray for, which she did. It still felt like a disaster for some of the time, but this woman became connected to a wider world and felt useful, part of her church family.
I have a friend who was suddenly diagnosed with a serious illness which forced her to leave her job and rest. This was a scary time, but eventually, with good medical help and a strong will, my friend found ways to stay connected to a wider world and feel useful.
*She volunteered for Amnesty International, writing letters to help free unjustly incarcerated inmates. This can be done on a computer at home when you are low on energy.
*When able to, she volunteered to man the desk at the local library and later, when stronger, she helped out at the local church with the children.
If you need to work at home via your computer, check out international teaching opportunities. I read on one of my online support groups that one woman does online teaching of students in China. The time difference can be challenging, but she is earning an income.
When I was diagnosed with Orthostatic Hypotension (under the umbrella of Dysautonomia, conditions of the autonomic nervous system), I was crushed and angry. How had I survived 2 cancer surgeries back to back and months of chemo only to get something ELSE??? It took awhile to wrap my mind around "the new normal" (listing to the side, sometimes falling, walking with a cane, fatigue), but this is what I do to stay connected:
*I joined several support groups online which feature autonomic system disorders;
*I discovered "The Unchargeables," (on FaceBook) started by the woman who invented the Spoon Theory; there I can share symptoms, struggles, victories, hopes, and and gain useful information about my own condition. I can also support others, which feels good. These sites are invaluable, and remind me that I am not alone.
*I found charities to donate to, which is great if you can afford it: I couldn't work at the Soup Kitchen or the Survival Center because I can't stand for long, but I can give money to: Save the Children, Catholic Charities, ACLU, Act Blue, Audubon, Cancer Connection, Safe Passage, and more.
*One of the hard parts of having a chronic illness is that you can become very isolated, especially if it is difficult for you to go down stairs, walk, drive, or meet people for coffee in a cafe. But you can still stay connected. You can:
*Invite a friend or two up for coffee, and the night before, make cold brew coffee with 1/3 cup medium ground coffee put in a mason jar, covered with 1 and 1/2 cups cold water. Keep on the counter overnight, filter it twice when ready to go, and either pour the concentrate over ice for ice coffee, or dilute it with hot water. I put in some Truvia and real sugar plus 2% milk. (This is from the NY Times cooking section).
*I ordered a "Gratitude Journal" from Amazon to remind myself that there were things I was, and am, grateful for. Some days the only gratitudes you have are: Put on bedroom slippers without falling over. Went downstairs and did not trip. Made tea. What keeping this journal does is remind me that I am not going to get "my old life" back. That ain't gonna happen. I have to learn to manage the "new normal."
*On bad days, I colored in coloring books I got from (say it!) Amazon, and that took my mind off my corpus.
*Some folks on the sites I belong to use the puzzle app on their iPad which is a good way to spend some time when you are down.
*I pray. Always. We have a lovely flat deck outside where I get my steps in on my Fitbit (did you know that Fitbit will keep track of wheelchair "steps"?), and I do 30 laps after breakfast with my cane. I like praying the Jesus prayer when I do this.
And if worst comes to worst and you have a new baby who is crying, you are crying, your body aches, and everything feels gray--pray. Then eat dark chocolate and sip strong tea or coffee. If you can, get up and move around. It always helps me. Go outside and put your face in the healing sun and breeze. And the sentence that always, always gets me through when I mourn my old body is something a friend said when one of my kids was terribly ill:
"You will get through this, Annie." You will get through whatever your "this" is. I am here to tell you that.
When I was put to bed for superficial thrombophlebitis after the birth of my second child (wrong remedy as it turned out), I was shocked.
How would I care for a 3 and 1/2 year-old hyperactive toddler in nursery school, a new baby, and myself with my husband at work? Here's what I did:
*I arranged a craft table in the bedroom with crayons, paper, kid scissors, clay, and more to keep my first-born busy. I piled up tons of VHS kid films from the library (brought by a neighbor) to watch with my son on the bed.
*I called a babysitter to come and pick up my kid at nursery school each day and deliver him home.
*I told my friends I needed food brought in. Social media is great for this, though it did not exist at this time.
*My husband got me a second-hand laptop so I could write, and I did--sitting up in bed, writing poems about the Westward journey. ("Mississippi Mud.")
*I used the phone to stay in touch with friends, reach out, and sometimes even offer comfort and help to someone else.*I did floor yoga for 20 min. a day so I wouldn't completely lose all tone in my muscles.
While cranky and sometimes overwhelmed, I had a system set up--a container for our problems--and a project to give me hope.
I knew of an older woman who found herself bed-ridden, mourning the active, involved person she used to be. But then someone from her church suggested she get the parish list of people to pray for, which she did. It still felt like a disaster for some of the time, but this woman became connected to a wider world and felt useful, part of her church family.
I have a friend who was suddenly diagnosed with a serious illness which forced her to leave her job and rest. This was a scary time, but eventually, with good medical help and a strong will, my friend found ways to stay connected to a wider world and feel useful.
*She volunteered for Amnesty International, writing letters to help free unjustly incarcerated inmates. This can be done on a computer at home when you are low on energy.
*When able to, she volunteered to man the desk at the local library and later, when stronger, she helped out at the local church with the children.
If you need to work at home via your computer, check out international teaching opportunities. I read on one of my online support groups that one woman does online teaching of students in China. The time difference can be challenging, but she is earning an income.
When I was diagnosed with Orthostatic Hypotension (under the umbrella of Dysautonomia, conditions of the autonomic nervous system), I was crushed and angry. How had I survived 2 cancer surgeries back to back and months of chemo only to get something ELSE??? It took awhile to wrap my mind around "the new normal" (listing to the side, sometimes falling, walking with a cane, fatigue), but this is what I do to stay connected:
*I joined several support groups online which feature autonomic system disorders;
*I discovered "The Unchargeables," (on FaceBook) started by the woman who invented the Spoon Theory; there I can share symptoms, struggles, victories, hopes, and and gain useful information about my own condition. I can also support others, which feels good. These sites are invaluable, and remind me that I am not alone.
*I found charities to donate to, which is great if you can afford it: I couldn't work at the Soup Kitchen or the Survival Center because I can't stand for long, but I can give money to: Save the Children, Catholic Charities, ACLU, Act Blue, Audubon, Cancer Connection, Safe Passage, and more.
*One of the hard parts of having a chronic illness is that you can become very isolated, especially if it is difficult for you to go down stairs, walk, drive, or meet people for coffee in a cafe. But you can still stay connected. You can:
*Invite a friend or two up for coffee, and the night before, make cold brew coffee with 1/3 cup medium ground coffee put in a mason jar, covered with 1 and 1/2 cups cold water. Keep on the counter overnight, filter it twice when ready to go, and either pour the concentrate over ice for ice coffee, or dilute it with hot water. I put in some Truvia and real sugar plus 2% milk. (This is from the NY Times cooking section).
*I ordered a "Gratitude Journal" from Amazon to remind myself that there were things I was, and am, grateful for. Some days the only gratitudes you have are: Put on bedroom slippers without falling over. Went downstairs and did not trip. Made tea. What keeping this journal does is remind me that I am not going to get "my old life" back. That ain't gonna happen. I have to learn to manage the "new normal."
*On bad days, I colored in coloring books I got from (say it!) Amazon, and that took my mind off my corpus.
*Some folks on the sites I belong to use the puzzle app on their iPad which is a good way to spend some time when you are down.
*I pray. Always. We have a lovely flat deck outside where I get my steps in on my Fitbit (did you know that Fitbit will keep track of wheelchair "steps"?), and I do 30 laps after breakfast with my cane. I like praying the Jesus prayer when I do this.
And if worst comes to worst and you have a new baby who is crying, you are crying, your body aches, and everything feels gray--pray. Then eat dark chocolate and sip strong tea or coffee. If you can, get up and move around. It always helps me. Go outside and put your face in the healing sun and breeze. And the sentence that always, always gets me through when I mourn my old body is something a friend said when one of my kids was terribly ill:
"You will get through this, Annie." You will get through whatever your "this" is. I am here to tell you that.
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ReplyDeleteWhat they are about is providing crucial reproductive health care for millions of women who would otherwise not be able to afford it. I. e., saving lives. If referrals for abortions are the issue here, I think there is room enough in Catholicism's big tent for disagreement.
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