I've been here 2 1/2 weeks, one more to go. So, how am I doing? I could bore you with details, but the upshot is, I don't really know. In some ways I'm worse than I was in Nov. in others....? Reality has so much to do with context and editing and perspective; it's hard to pin down.
Ok so I will bore you with details.
I've had increasing migrating joint pain and thigh muscle weakness since early Summer. Around the beginning of Nov. my joint pain started to fade but I continued with muscle pain especially thigh muscle weakness which made me increasingly unable to lift my feet and walk. By the end of Nov. when I came out here, I couldn't walk without the walker. That weakness was a little worse by the end of the first week here. In the last few days, I think, maybe, perhaps,
I might be getting slightly stronger.
This is where the slightly surreal perspective of this post emerges. Pain and even disability are so "now" so hard to put on that darn 10 pt scale the docs are always asking for. Mine has also been challenging to document because it goes up and down over a 1-2 week cycle as well as targeting different pain spots. I've been keeping a regular record but it's hard to really compare the sensations of even a few days before. I noted back in Nov. when I no longer was able to lift my foot over a curb without something to pull myself up with. I noticed a couple of weeks ago that I felt dangerous trying to shuffle the 30' to the front door of the clinic. I've been using the walker 100% since then. But today I tried walking some 40+ feet and it was a stronger, safer shuffle. I was able to pull myself up stairs foot over foot not the one step at a time that's been my last few weeks.
In the past, the shifts have been subtle; often they've been part of a cycle which continues a downward trend. The pains change characteristics and loci. I've felt lost in a jungle of sensation where perspective is both elusive and illusory. But my perspective or self talk about this morass is a powerful variable that I think it's time to use.
I'm going to try to harness the placebo effect, or denial, or hope or whatever psychological trick it may be to pull myself arm over arm out of this hole I'm in. Lord only knows I've thrown every intervention but the kitchen sink at it in these last weeks including sessions in a hyperbaric oxygen chamber, laser light treatment of my blood, very detailed food sensitivity testing and other IV antimicrobial and immune stimulating drugs. So now is the time to add my psychological magic sauce, find the strand of reality that reinforces the perception that I am getting stronger, and hold on to it with all my might. And it may, indeed, in time, prove Real.
Sunday, December 16, 2018
Monday, December 10, 2018
Zero Gravity
I am sitting in a small room in Canada, noticing. It is, oddly, my only job these days. I'm here to try to reboot my life, change my patterns of eating, moving, breathing, sleeping. Hopefully the Lyme or other tick diseases I have will succumb to the barrage of different Naturopathic treatments I'm here for, but if not, I should still know a lot more about my body than I do now.
I'm halfway through my time here, with no noticeable improvement, in fact, with a slight continuation of my downward trend in ability to walk without the support of my walker. I feel occasional burps of despair but mostly live still snuggled in my cocoon of denial. The overriding background sensation of this time is being in zero gravity. I have none of what usually grounds me, home maintenance, responsibilities, relationships, little creative projects. Without those duties to my former self, I'm able to consider what my life would be like if I can no longer walk or carry things unassisted. I'll be having a brain MRI when I return to look at other serious disability contenders.
It's sort of like inviting a new member to my team of multiple personalities, one in stark contrast to the independent pioneer who has always been my front man.
I've been having dream conversations with a group of women about color and life style and how to avoid attracting bear with our female hormones. (though we hear a story of a woman giving birth in the wild without being attacked.)
During my travels out here, a man offered me help and then added that the women he'd met from WI (and Montana) were amazingly strong, and able to kick butt. Not sure why, but that seemed to be a blessing for this trip.
There's a photo of a bear on the wall in the little Arbnb room I spend so much time in. A totem for this new territory I'm in?
I'm halfway through my time here, with no noticeable improvement, in fact, with a slight continuation of my downward trend in ability to walk without the support of my walker. I feel occasional burps of despair but mostly live still snuggled in my cocoon of denial. The overriding background sensation of this time is being in zero gravity. I have none of what usually grounds me, home maintenance, responsibilities, relationships, little creative projects. Without those duties to my former self, I'm able to consider what my life would be like if I can no longer walk or carry things unassisted. I'll be having a brain MRI when I return to look at other serious disability contenders.
It's sort of like inviting a new member to my team of multiple personalities, one in stark contrast to the independent pioneer who has always been my front man.
I've been having dream conversations with a group of women about color and life style and how to avoid attracting bear with our female hormones. (though we hear a story of a woman giving birth in the wild without being attacked.)
During my travels out here, a man offered me help and then added that the women he'd met from WI (and Montana) were amazingly strong, and able to kick butt. Not sure why, but that seemed to be a blessing for this trip.
There's a photo of a bear on the wall in the little Arbnb room I spend so much time in. A totem for this new territory I'm in?
Monday, July 10, 2017
Finding my proper place in the natural order of things
My son would like me to move into town and thinks that my animals and garden are responsibilities that are tying me down. I found myself reflecting on why I feel a deep need to live in the country.
When I was in my 20's, living on a farm in rural Wisconsin, we had chickens who roamed around in the day but who needed to be shut up snug in their coop at night, lest varmints get them. Chickens have a deep homing urge as it becomes dusk, so all I'd have to do was wait 'til it was full dark and then shut their door. The chicken house was several hundred yards from the house down our dark driveway, and I noticed that I felt a little scared as I walked down the drive. Staying in the bright cone of a flashlight made it worse as it blinded me to, made me feel even more separate from, what was outside the light.
One time as I was walking down, I asked my self what was I scared of? I felt
"I'm scared of the wild things"
and then I heard a voice answer from the backroom of my mind,
"you are a wild thing too, with tools and mind instead of tooth and claw. You are a wild thing amongst wild things."
It hit me like a bolt of lightening. I turned off the flashlight. And walked the rest of the way feeling how I was one more natural force, in some ways stronger in others weaker, just one more wild thing amongst wild things. I have never been afraid of the dark since. In fact, I prefer walking in the dark; I feel that I see better.
Growing up by the Atlantic ocean, I loved to sit for hours watching waves come in. And mountains, I loved that slightly shuddering feeling of smallness that came from looking at their mightiness. When I moved to the Midwest, I missed the ocean and mountains a lot until I met Midwestern storms. Watching the clouds roll across the sky and foment the intimidation of wind, thunder, lightening, I found some of what I'd missed about oceans and mountains. They all made me feel small in a good way. Living in Chicago at that time, it was easy to feel the street cleaners and forecasters had gained the upper hand over storms. Until one would just roll over the city and knock all our collective socks and infrastructure out! I liked the feeling of being put in my place. The natural order was bigger then me, thank God!
Over time, as I've lived in the country, gardened, raised animals, I've become more humble from necessity. The bugs, and weeds and poop, the winds and storms, they all out number, are more powerful than me. Oh I've learned a trick or two over the years, and I love when I'm able to manage some natural force to my vision, keep my animals safe, keep weeds from thriving in my garden. But I have no illusions of my ultimate power.
This is somewhat comforting in another arena. I'm old enough to have noticed the changes to thriving flora and fauna populations over the years. I've seen some colonies of magical wildflowers disappear from too many grazing deer or invasive species moving in. I remember when the DNR introduced multiflora rose as a "living fence", when introduced bass pushed out the pickerel and perch from our childhood fishing pond. Yes, humans are speeding up all sorts of ecological change. We are not going to be able to return to the wilderness of our youths; it continues to grow and change and rebalance.
Nature is not nostalgic. It accepts the loss of the passenger pidgin and the introduction of carp and kudzu. Yes humans have blindly messed up our environments and Lord only knows, we are starting to pay the price along with lots of life on earth. We may be well on our way to our own extinction. But like the astroid which may have led to the dinosaur extinction or the "year long winter" that happened from volcanic ash which blocked the sun, the natural order continues to rebalance, recover into some new reality, to be resilient.
We humans have lots of wonderful tools, and the ability to notice and savor, to plan and to correct course, but we are not all powerful. We do what humans can do with hands and plans, but we can't drive the ecology car; we're part of it, and a small part to boot! The Natural Oder of things is dynamic, not sentimental, and doesn't give a hoot in what form life will go on. I am sad from all the losses I've noticed in my lifetime but humbled that people couldn't/can't control all the forces we've played with, sort of like The Sorcerer's Apprentice. The natural world is bigger than we are; we are small and not God, despite our ambitions.
This is why I need to live in the country as long as I'm able, to feel small in a good way, to find my proper place in the natural order of things.
When I was in my 20's, living on a farm in rural Wisconsin, we had chickens who roamed around in the day but who needed to be shut up snug in their coop at night, lest varmints get them. Chickens have a deep homing urge as it becomes dusk, so all I'd have to do was wait 'til it was full dark and then shut their door. The chicken house was several hundred yards from the house down our dark driveway, and I noticed that I felt a little scared as I walked down the drive. Staying in the bright cone of a flashlight made it worse as it blinded me to, made me feel even more separate from, what was outside the light.
One time as I was walking down, I asked my self what was I scared of? I felt
"I'm scared of the wild things"
and then I heard a voice answer from the backroom of my mind,
"you are a wild thing too, with tools and mind instead of tooth and claw. You are a wild thing amongst wild things."
It hit me like a bolt of lightening. I turned off the flashlight. And walked the rest of the way feeling how I was one more natural force, in some ways stronger in others weaker, just one more wild thing amongst wild things. I have never been afraid of the dark since. In fact, I prefer walking in the dark; I feel that I see better.
Growing up by the Atlantic ocean, I loved to sit for hours watching waves come in. And mountains, I loved that slightly shuddering feeling of smallness that came from looking at their mightiness. When I moved to the Midwest, I missed the ocean and mountains a lot until I met Midwestern storms. Watching the clouds roll across the sky and foment the intimidation of wind, thunder, lightening, I found some of what I'd missed about oceans and mountains. They all made me feel small in a good way. Living in Chicago at that time, it was easy to feel the street cleaners and forecasters had gained the upper hand over storms. Until one would just roll over the city and knock all our collective socks and infrastructure out! I liked the feeling of being put in my place. The natural order was bigger then me, thank God!
Over time, as I've lived in the country, gardened, raised animals, I've become more humble from necessity. The bugs, and weeds and poop, the winds and storms, they all out number, are more powerful than me. Oh I've learned a trick or two over the years, and I love when I'm able to manage some natural force to my vision, keep my animals safe, keep weeds from thriving in my garden. But I have no illusions of my ultimate power.
This is somewhat comforting in another arena. I'm old enough to have noticed the changes to thriving flora and fauna populations over the years. I've seen some colonies of magical wildflowers disappear from too many grazing deer or invasive species moving in. I remember when the DNR introduced multiflora rose as a "living fence", when introduced bass pushed out the pickerel and perch from our childhood fishing pond. Yes, humans are speeding up all sorts of ecological change. We are not going to be able to return to the wilderness of our youths; it continues to grow and change and rebalance.
Nature is not nostalgic. It accepts the loss of the passenger pidgin and the introduction of carp and kudzu. Yes humans have blindly messed up our environments and Lord only knows, we are starting to pay the price along with lots of life on earth. We may be well on our way to our own extinction. But like the astroid which may have led to the dinosaur extinction or the "year long winter" that happened from volcanic ash which blocked the sun, the natural order continues to rebalance, recover into some new reality, to be resilient.
We humans have lots of wonderful tools, and the ability to notice and savor, to plan and to correct course, but we are not all powerful. We do what humans can do with hands and plans, but we can't drive the ecology car; we're part of it, and a small part to boot! The Natural Oder of things is dynamic, not sentimental, and doesn't give a hoot in what form life will go on. I am sad from all the losses I've noticed in my lifetime but humbled that people couldn't/can't control all the forces we've played with, sort of like The Sorcerer's Apprentice. The natural world is bigger than we are; we are small and not God, despite our ambitions.
This is why I need to live in the country as long as I'm able, to feel small in a good way, to find my proper place in the natural order of things.
Saturday, April 1, 2017
Shifting
Something is shifting. I'm trying to figure out what will make my hips less painful, more functional. I had a fall, and was carrying too much weight too early in my recovery from surgery. (Oh my life just loves to hit me up side the head with metaphors, so apt they're funny!) The jury is out. I may have a pinched nerve in my spine causing the thigh pain or perhaps it's just taking the muscles, which atrophied and foreshortened from my bad hips, time to stretch and grow. I track this and try that and hope the changing sensations will move more strongly in the functional direction.
But the shift I'm feeling has more to do with my last post about personal responsibility. What I hoped for and sensed the day after the election seems to be happening. People are standing up, speaking out. Yes there are more knee jerk partisan positions but there is also thoughtful reexamining of what's real, of not countering the fake news and exaggerations with exaggerations and blame but with as truthful truth as we can tell and taking responsibility for our share of bad decisions.
I'm feeling the shift in odd things like keeping my kitchen counters and sink clean and put away at all times. Who knew how clearing and empowering that simple consistency would be? It came, as have several of my shifts, from some out of the blue misfortune that part of me decided was a gift, a challenge from the Universe to step up and into my life. Perhaps it comes because I have no illusion that I know what's going on in this crazy world or how things will turn out. Though I do sense that there's more going on than meets the eye; things are not simply black or white. Times like these require a delicate balance of honest effort and voluntary free fall. And being open to the subtle shifts of energy and willing to catch the change, in whatever domaine it may be.
Next week it will be 5 years since Gil's Easter morning death. I'll be on the train with my 7 yr old granddaughter Piper traveling cross country to visit David in California. I've been feeling Gil's presence a lot of late. I was at Piper's 2nd grade concert where they sang an assortment of jazz standards and I wept through the whole thing. Gil was palpably present. I've had more conversations with him recently too. All those posts where I wrote of waiting to be swept off into the next phase of my life, Now I'm feeling like a cool breeze is blowing through an open door and that when I'm ready I can shift my weight in a just a few little things and see how it feels to live my life in a new way.
But the shift I'm feeling has more to do with my last post about personal responsibility. What I hoped for and sensed the day after the election seems to be happening. People are standing up, speaking out. Yes there are more knee jerk partisan positions but there is also thoughtful reexamining of what's real, of not countering the fake news and exaggerations with exaggerations and blame but with as truthful truth as we can tell and taking responsibility for our share of bad decisions.
I'm feeling the shift in odd things like keeping my kitchen counters and sink clean and put away at all times. Who knew how clearing and empowering that simple consistency would be? It came, as have several of my shifts, from some out of the blue misfortune that part of me decided was a gift, a challenge from the Universe to step up and into my life. Perhaps it comes because I have no illusion that I know what's going on in this crazy world or how things will turn out. Though I do sense that there's more going on than meets the eye; things are not simply black or white. Times like these require a delicate balance of honest effort and voluntary free fall. And being open to the subtle shifts of energy and willing to catch the change, in whatever domaine it may be.
Next week it will be 5 years since Gil's Easter morning death. I'll be on the train with my 7 yr old granddaughter Piper traveling cross country to visit David in California. I've been feeling Gil's presence a lot of late. I was at Piper's 2nd grade concert where they sang an assortment of jazz standards and I wept through the whole thing. Gil was palpably present. I've had more conversations with him recently too. All those posts where I wrote of waiting to be swept off into the next phase of my life, Now I'm feeling like a cool breeze is blowing through an open door and that when I'm ready I can shift my weight in a just a few little things and see how it feels to live my life in a new way.
Thursday, November 10, 2016
Justice
I am shaken; is it by any chance a gift? I don't know. Only that the foundations of my world order have been shaken. Not by natural disaster, economic depression or World War, but by the human way of things. I've grown up, through the fifties, the sixties, the seventies, seeing "the arc of the moral Universe" bending sizably, significantly, "toward justice". I have leaned on the civil rights movement, the "Great Society", the women's and other "rights" movements. It is coming. We can legislate justice! Or can we?
In some weird way, I am grateful for Donald Trump's win. I can't believe I'm saying this. His destructive forces may waken the American spirit in a way that Hillary never could have. We have had the protections of the voting rights act, and so many other safety nets ripped off. No more protection from our country's worst instincts. Now it's up to each of us to bear witness to injustice, the State is not going to do it, to throw our particular skills into pulling our specific local efforts to further the action. It won't happen without us.
I'm waking up. I feel that I may have something that's needed. I'm not sure what it is or what it will look like, but I can't afford to keep on sleeping. There are big forces stirring. Perhaps it's like the rise of the Nazis in Germany. Who knows? But it's clearly not a time to trust in the parental goodness, wisdom of our leaders. Time to take responsibility to think for myself. Time to deeply listen; it's so not black or white. Time to decide what mix of caring for the generations, the groups who will bear the brunt of living with the fallout of this election, do I want to spend my life force on. The devastation will hit them so much more than my cohort.
It seems a little like 9/11 but we have accidentally guided the planes ourselves. Hopefully, this time we won't be admonished to "go shopping", but will step forward into more personal responsibility to make the "arc" bend toward justice. I'm excited to see what emerges. Who knows, perhaps this will be the turning point that is looked back on years from now, of when America started to grow up, and live up to it's potential for greatness. Or not, but I want to be part of the effort to try. And to bear witness to what I see. There will be so much pain. I don't want to ignore it, to waste it. No more waiting, it's wakeup time.
In some weird way, I am grateful for Donald Trump's win. I can't believe I'm saying this. His destructive forces may waken the American spirit in a way that Hillary never could have. We have had the protections of the voting rights act, and so many other safety nets ripped off. No more protection from our country's worst instincts. Now it's up to each of us to bear witness to injustice, the State is not going to do it, to throw our particular skills into pulling our specific local efforts to further the action. It won't happen without us.
I'm waking up. I feel that I may have something that's needed. I'm not sure what it is or what it will look like, but I can't afford to keep on sleeping. There are big forces stirring. Perhaps it's like the rise of the Nazis in Germany. Who knows? But it's clearly not a time to trust in the parental goodness, wisdom of our leaders. Time to take responsibility to think for myself. Time to deeply listen; it's so not black or white. Time to decide what mix of caring for the generations, the groups who will bear the brunt of living with the fallout of this election, do I want to spend my life force on. The devastation will hit them so much more than my cohort.
It seems a little like 9/11 but we have accidentally guided the planes ourselves. Hopefully, this time we won't be admonished to "go shopping", but will step forward into more personal responsibility to make the "arc" bend toward justice. I'm excited to see what emerges. Who knows, perhaps this will be the turning point that is looked back on years from now, of when America started to grow up, and live up to it's potential for greatness. Or not, but I want to be part of the effort to try. And to bear witness to what I see. There will be so much pain. I don't want to ignore it, to waste it. No more waiting, it's wakeup time.
Sunday, April 10, 2016
Waiting
Gil died four years ago; it seems like twenty. And I am still waiting for my "rebirth of wonder". Sitting in silence this morn I'm struck with how unsilent my world is, reverberating chimes mumbling to us all, setting a frequency that we're all drawn to, we heartbeat kin. Wind doing it's ADHD gusting, dying, distracted changing direction. The busyness of birds, puffed up with the importance of what they're doing, nesting, feeding. and me doing all of the above but distractedly with one ear tuned in to the cranes.
It hits me this morning that my waiting for a burst of inspiration may be missing the ISness of my life now. It's enough, more than enough, what's right here all around me. The cranes remind me. When we first bought the land in 1991 I saw cranes a few valleys away and prayed that they would move in our direction, set up housekeeping in our wetlands. And they did. I am in thrall to cranes, their gangly gait (not unlike mine at the moment as I prepare for a double hip replacement sometime this year) their haunting, otherworldly call. They remind me that I'm in paradise if I can let go of what my life used to look like. Caregiving was how I accessed my life force and it gave me the energy to give parties and make crafts, design a home, nurture family, handle crises. Now I have to find that life force through caring for myself and the life I'm living now. It's not as energizing.
As I've spent these years since Gil died doing less, and less and and even less than less, I've felt like Orpheus going into my own Underworld to bring back my beloved Love of Life. I don't feel like I've found her yet, but my eyes and ears have become more fine tuned. I can feel my heartbeat and a high frequency flutter. It concerned me at first, but I gather it does not forebode disaster. I'd like to imagine that it's part of my heart tuned into to, aligning itself with the frequencies of my unsilent Paradise.
It hits me this morning that my waiting for a burst of inspiration may be missing the ISness of my life now. It's enough, more than enough, what's right here all around me. The cranes remind me. When we first bought the land in 1991 I saw cranes a few valleys away and prayed that they would move in our direction, set up housekeeping in our wetlands. And they did. I am in thrall to cranes, their gangly gait (not unlike mine at the moment as I prepare for a double hip replacement sometime this year) their haunting, otherworldly call. They remind me that I'm in paradise if I can let go of what my life used to look like. Caregiving was how I accessed my life force and it gave me the energy to give parties and make crafts, design a home, nurture family, handle crises. Now I have to find that life force through caring for myself and the life I'm living now. It's not as energizing.
As I've spent these years since Gil died doing less, and less and and even less than less, I've felt like Orpheus going into my own Underworld to bring back my beloved Love of Life. I don't feel like I've found her yet, but my eyes and ears have become more fine tuned. I can feel my heartbeat and a high frequency flutter. It concerned me at first, but I gather it does not forebode disaster. I'd like to imagine that it's part of my heart tuned into to, aligning itself with the frequencies of my unsilent Paradise.
Saturday, July 25, 2015
Becoming my own primary relationship
I watch the couples, the families I know, and see how decisions are colored by what they know "the other" needs, wants ... It doesn't mean that folks can't be selfish but they do it within the magnetic field of the other.
Since late adolescence I've had a true north through my felt sense of my sibs', or my husband or my kids' needs. It was grounding, and simplified decision making. All I did had those boundaries.
And now I am in free fall; my first responsibility now is my own well being. It's like how on our first anniversary Gil told me "We should move out into the country because you need it to keep your soul moist, and as long as it's a half hour from restaurants and movies, I'll be good". Now I need to do that for myself. Do I want to still live in the country? Do I want to live with or nearer other people? Do I want to travel? How best to take care of this body that I find myself with, with all it's weak links and fissures? How odd. I really hadn't noticed it much before. I am me and this is my life; what I do makes a difference.
So what is my true north now? A lot of solitude and silence and ruminating, puttering, slowly getting on top of organizing tools and weeding/mowing. It feels soothing, like I'm being responsible in a way I was only half assed before. How to be the best possible iteration of me? Trying a little more, a little different and noticing how I feel, am I flourishing or drying up. And noticing the world around me; I am touched by the news but more deeply moved by the struggles of friends and folks I see. I'm coming to some peace, acceptance, we are a civilization in decline, as I am an individual in one sort of decline too. Somehow saying it, my expectations are reduced and I delight in smaller signs of life.
I am learning. How to say "no, that doesn't work for me" to say "I can handle this or that, but radio silence, not telling me what's going on, I'm not willing to put up with that". There is nobody else to turn to. It's up to me to take care of, to optimize, to revel in me.
Since late adolescence I've had a true north through my felt sense of my sibs', or my husband or my kids' needs. It was grounding, and simplified decision making. All I did had those boundaries.
And now I am in free fall; my first responsibility now is my own well being. It's like how on our first anniversary Gil told me "We should move out into the country because you need it to keep your soul moist, and as long as it's a half hour from restaurants and movies, I'll be good". Now I need to do that for myself. Do I want to still live in the country? Do I want to live with or nearer other people? Do I want to travel? How best to take care of this body that I find myself with, with all it's weak links and fissures? How odd. I really hadn't noticed it much before. I am me and this is my life; what I do makes a difference.
So what is my true north now? A lot of solitude and silence and ruminating, puttering, slowly getting on top of organizing tools and weeding/mowing. It feels soothing, like I'm being responsible in a way I was only half assed before. How to be the best possible iteration of me? Trying a little more, a little different and noticing how I feel, am I flourishing or drying up. And noticing the world around me; I am touched by the news but more deeply moved by the struggles of friends and folks I see. I'm coming to some peace, acceptance, we are a civilization in decline, as I am an individual in one sort of decline too. Somehow saying it, my expectations are reduced and I delight in smaller signs of life.
I am learning. How to say "no, that doesn't work for me" to say "I can handle this or that, but radio silence, not telling me what's going on, I'm not willing to put up with that". There is nobody else to turn to. It's up to me to take care of, to optimize, to revel in me.
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