Monthly Archives: March 2018

FROM A WHISPER TO A SCREAM

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It’s the end of March. It’s messy and melting outside. Nothing pretty about it – icy muddles and dirty snow. Seems like there’s always stuff for me to bitch about every month. I can hear someone asking, Are you ever happy? Probably not! Want to make something out of it? I demanded back in my head. That’s what I like about having my own space for conversations. I get to say what I want without interruptions and corrections. It is very difficult in the real world. Have you noticed that? I’m guilty of it myself. I try very hard to stay quiet and let the other person speak for himself, how he sees, how he feels. I can just listen. I don’t have to offer answers, solutions or opinions.

I’ve had a few difficult days with hip pain. It sure woke me up on how much we take things for granted – like getting in and out of bed/the car, getting up from the chair, turning over in bed. The list goes on and on. I discovered that everything was painful and tiring even just sitting. I should have listened to my body even when the signal was soft and quiet. But no, I only heard when the pain screamed at me. It got my whole attention then. I went on an internet search for answers and solutions.

I am lucky. I found some. I incorporated some of the stretches in the above video with some strengthening exercises. I do them in the morning, afternoon and before I go to bed. I still have some discomfort but I can roll on both sides in bed. This afternoon I am able to climb up the basement stairs using both legs. Hurray!

I’m in a better mood now. Things are improving. I am getting better and wiser. I rid my week’s activities of everything except absolutely necessaries. That alone took a lot of pressure off my hips and allow me to heal faster. Now to apply that philosophy to other areas of my life. Indexcard art and quilt squares remind me to keep things small and slow. Life in bite sizes. There is no rush. Savour everything.

THE PAIN OF IT ALL

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It’s not quite 2 in the afternoon. I’m doing very well for not having slept hardly last night. It’s no surprise then that I didn’t dream. I felt like screaming though. My hip was giving me grief. It was hard getting in and out of bed. Forget about rolling onto my left side. The pain was too much. And when you can’t, you want it all the more. After an hour of sleeplessness, flat on my back alternating with rolling onto the right side, I got up with great difficulty. I made myself a cup of tea, took a Tyleno 3 and read for awhile.

Even though I was feeling a little groggy after an hour or so, I could not get to sleep. I was aggravating my hip getting in and out of bed. Next, I navagated to the couch with a block of frozen wonton wrappers to ice my hip. It would decrease inflammation if it was bursitis. It couldn’t make it worse. It might numb the pain. The couch was a better option for getting in and out. I didn’t have so far to swing my legs. The leather was soft and curvy. I could nestle against the back for support. I managed to sleep for an hour or two.

The thing worse than pain is sleeplessness. When you got both, it’s a double whammy. I’ve learned from experience not to fret about it. Fretting only adds to the distress. I counted my blessings instead. I don’t have to go to work anymore. In other words, I don’t have to perform. I wiped my coming week’s calendar clean except for absolute have to’s. I will reschedule Sheba’s checkup and vaccinations for the following week. No exercise classes. No swimming. Nothing. Nada. I will add things back as I am able. No pressure, no stress, no straining. More relaxing, stretching and letting go.

Pain can be all consuming if you let it. Same goes for sleeplessness. It is very easy to fall into a dark pit. It would be a long way to climb back out. I’ve learned to stop and be still in these moments and assess the situation. Ask some questions. How can I improve my situation? Do I need help? And go from there.

I’ve done some stretching and stengthening exercises through the day. I’ve taken Sheba around the block slowly. I try not to sit too long. I stand up from sitting regularly. I do my qi gong routine. I will ice my hip when I’m watching the news tonight. Surprisingly, I can keep up with life just poking along steadily. Not all is lost.

 

DREAMS AND SCREAMS

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Bummer! My left hip has been giving me some grief lately. It takes the pleasure out of going to the park with Sheba and everything else. Though I’ve cut our outings shorter and walking slower and with more care, I’m still suffering. I’m sure the weather is aggravating my arthritic bones. I can also feel my nasal and jaw bones aching. It’s all on my left side where I feel most of the tension. So a tylenol and some yoga later, I’m attending to business.

I had a dream again last night. I am sure I do it every night. Only most of the time I don’t remember. I couldn’t remember much this morning either but I knew I had dreamt. I was opened to let it come back to me. It did. It did not involve an intruder. It was rather mundane so no screaming. Talking about dreaming and screaming, I realize now that I do scream out loud. When I dreamt about ghosts sitting and paralyzing me, I felt I couldn’t get my screams out. In reality I must have screamed and screamed. That was scared the cat off the bed and NOT the ghost. I was living alone then. I had no idea.

Now that I’ve had supper and a glass of wine, my hip feels a bit better. I try not to favour it too much and get totally out of alignment. Already I’m walking like Charlie Chaplin without a cane. Some days are better than others but today was not a total loss. I did not get any transplanting seedlings done. Nor did I make it to swimming. But I did get to a class on quilting software at The Sewing Machine Store this morning. I coloured another cloth with Inktense blocks and heat setted the colours with a dry iron. It seemed to work. No colour run-offs when I washed the block under the tap. Little blocks of success – that’s all I ask for. They do add up to make the big picture. Time to say good night.

 

I HAD A DREAM

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My favourite speech is Martin Luther King’s famous I Have a Dream. I’ve been having more dreams lately and remembering them after. They’re not anything like King’s. I’m usually screaming in them. Last night I dreamt I was in the upstairs shower. Even though I had double latched the door, a man intruded. I was puzzled. How did the door get opened? The latches were the the hook and eye type like the ones on our side gate. He was looking for someone. I didn’t scream this time. I told him to go back downstairs. There was a party going on.

It just occur to me that all my dreams are related to an intruder. In the previous dream someone stepping through the basement window. I could see the leg and the sheer curtains fluttering. That’s when I tried to scream. It felt as if I couldn’t get it out but apparently I did. I woke up the dog and the guy. In my dreams, I never see faces. The leg and the window was the most vivid picture I could recall from all my dreams. Mostly I remember screaming and calling for help. I wonder why. In my younger years, I dreamt of ghosts sitting on and paralyzing me.

The day has sped away on me. I haven’t made any progress on my intentions of transplant-ing more seedlings or starting more seeds. My work tables and desk are as cluttered as ever. They’re nightmarish. I have no excuse really except for my usuals of being tired and full of aches and pains. I’m getting sick and tired of my own thoughts and whines. I will descend and attack those areas in a short while. Famous last words, right?

But in spite of my snail’s pace, I haven’t fallen behind. I just haven’t progressed. I did skip my exercise class this morning. Why aggravate my physical pain? I will swim on the weekend. It will be easier on my joints. The lunch dishes got done and put away. Sheba and I managed to get to the park after lunch. It was easier than walking on treacherous icy sidewalk. There was lots of happy energetic dogs and their humans. It  gave me an extra boost on this cloudy day. Now, I’ve shown up here, tapping out my words.

Okay now, I’m ready to tend to my work spaces. The guy has made a table for my new sewing machine. It’s like a dream come true. I’ve never had one – a special table or dream come true. It has sections that fold out or in. I will have space when I get past my 6 inch squares and into a big quilt. It will fold onto itself when I’m not sewing and fit in a small corner. It should help me organize my ‘stuff’. It might take me a long time but I can start.

BEING A STEADY EDDY

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Funny how the weather can affect my body. My mind is delighted with the bright sunshine. My physical body is voicing its displeasure. The whole of me hurts as if I’m being fried alive. It doesn’t feel any better ‘resting’ so I try to move and do my stuff as best I can. Prepping a cloth square for free motion sewing takes my mind off the pain.  No point sitting and suffering. I might as well spot clean messy areas that bug me – the bathroom and the backdoor mats.

I’m reaping the reward of ‘keeping up’. On days like this, I can afford to ‘slack off’/take it a bit easier. I’m getting the hang of living life block by block, being Steady Eddy. No more burning the candle at both ends, then die sputtering thereafter. The wind has whipped up. It is chilling. I’m not hankering on taking Sheba out for her walk. But I will – after I’ve sit a spell and tapped another sentence or two.

I have done well. I feel somewhat better after taking my parents to the library, then coffee. My mother still likes to read and learn about everything. My father likes the outing. It was an easy thing for me to do for them. It didn’t feel that way before I went. But once I start, I had to keep going. The outing broke up my fatigue and discomforts. Now, to bundle up against the wind and take the dog out. The exercise will do us good.

We’re back. The wind was not bad with my hood up. The walk eased the ache in my back and hips. It’s like getting a lube job. It’s true what they say. If you don’t use it, you’re going to lose it. I’m feeling delicious now, sipping a cuppa and eating a sweet Chinese pastry. One doesn’t feel quite enough, but I will refrain. Tomorrow is another day. Stretching out the goodness.

MAINTENANCE TOOLS

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Maintenance is important but very difficult for me. I rather close my eyes, walk away and not think about it. It catches up with me eventually and I have to deal with it. I’m trying to understand this phenomenon to make life more pleasurable. I suppose it is one of those things that has no explanations or it is plain obvious. Who wants to deal with their shit? Let’s not do the digging in head thing and just get on with it.

I’m observing myself and learning how difficult it is to overcome the habitual patterns of my old self. It feels so uncomfortable thinking and feeling, never mind doing different. The discomfort is painful in a sense that I’m stuck. I can’t go forward but I don’t want to go back. My body yearns the same old. My mind is fighting it. No, you don’t! It’s like wrestling food from Sheba’s jaw.

I’m hanging in there. It’s my daily struggle and challenge. It’s all a part of index cards, free motion sewing squares, daily walks with Sheba and charting my progress here daily. I’m still reading Breaking the Habits of Being Yourself. I have read 39% of the book. I don’t feel I’m being obsessed with things. I’m doing daily little bit of the things that matter and I enjoy. They’re like building blocks of stick-to-it-ness. I see the improvement little by little in my index card art and my free motion sewing. Seeing it gives me pleasure, satisfaction and encouragement to keep on, maintaining my momentum. The little cards and blocks are my tools.

I’m applying little blocks of time to organize my activities of daily living – clearing my clutter, keeping me and the house in health and order. It’s working, albeit much slower in the house department. Some things are harder to do than others. The plants are pruned, watered and fertilized this morning. The orchids are waiting to be repotted tomorrow. There’s endless things to tend to. Thinking in small blocks of time enables me to think everything is do-able. If I think the whole enchilada, I will stall and shudder to a complete stop for sure. So here’s to the little building blocks of success.

 

THE UNREACHABLE STAR

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Sometimes I am dogged by melancholia, especially on a bright sunny almost spring day. I feel obligated to be joyful, exuberant. I’m full of guilt because I’m not. It is all very silly because I have no obligations to be anything else except what I am. And who is to know really if I don’t tell? But, of course, I’m shouting it out now, aren’t I? Oh, well! I’m not sad just languid. This is just me so I should stop talking about it, relax and enjoy. I can be like Snoopy and fantasize about being the life of the party, the toast of the town, the starlet, the artist, the writer. People roll out the red carpet for me. Yea, I can dream on -being not who I am.

Fantasies can be uplifting. I had a chuckle tapping them out. That did the trick. I don’t have to live them. Sometimes I get in a mood – of not belonging. I have no tribe. I don’t have much in common with other people. It would make me unique – a good thing you would think. But in this case, I feel detached, disconnected, afloat without an anchor. Have you ever felt that way? It’s like you are standing alone in a crowd. They’re all talking to everyone else except you. You probably have since I’m know I am not unique or special.

It’s great to run across Steve McCurry’s blog post on reading when I’m feeling thus. I feel not so isolated or alone reading these words. We read to know we are not alone.
– C.S. Lewis. His photographs and quotes are beautiful and touching. I like to fantasize creating and writing such beautiful images and words. I like having those dreams to reach for. I want to work towards the unreachable/reachable star. It’s something I need, an anchor/stablizer. Otherwise, I would be adrift in this vast universe.

This is the kind of person I am. Serious, no changing that. I think I do have a lighter side – somewhere. Need I worry?

 

WHEN THE BOTTOM FALLS OUT

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I always arrive here at the end of the day. Good time to sum up everything but I want to lounge and vegetate. I want to curl up with my glass of wine. Supper is still in the making so I’ll wait. Maybe a cuppa decaf can coax the words from me. The bottom of my day/jar literally fell out in the morning. There I was, standing in the kitchen, holding a jar of soup while the bottom clang to the floor. Good thing the soup was still frozen. Otherwise, what a mess!

It wasn’t indicative of how everything went. I had a pretty good day after the bottom fell out. I am still on track reading Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself. I’m applying what I’ve learned. I’m trying to stop waking up to the same day over and over like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day. That would be a daymare. My yesterday was not so good. I felt tired and down. I didn’t want the same so I visualize myself as I want to be – energetic and up. I went into the phone booth of my mind and put on my Wonder Woman costume. And voilà!

I packed my gym bag with my swim paraphernalia so I was ready to go at the appointed time. No excuse to skip since I couldn’t find this or that. Next I headed downstairs and transplanted the rest of the tomato seedlings. It was not an earth shattering exciting day. All the same it was very satisfying to me, not having the fatigue. I will remember to be kinder to myself when I am tired. The natural progression from that is feeling down. There’s no need to punish myself more for feeling that way.

The day is done. I’ve had my swim and feeling the more relaxed and mellow for it. It pays to make an effort to go. The dog is walked, supper ate and wine consumed. The dishwasher is slushing away. All my little art projects done for the day – the red cardinal for 365 somethings 2018 and my painted cloth block . They’re on the sidebar under my Instagram if you care to look. Time to shut it down till tomorrow.

 

THE SLICE OF MY LABOUR

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I love words. My favourite word used to be copacetic. It still is. I first heard it listening to Tara Brach. It has such a copacetic sound to it. Just one word to describe. I’ve found another word to add to the list – Micromovement. I believe it’s originated by SARK. You can download her little booklet of how to’s on her site. I like to take the micro and apply it to every-thing.

Micro works very well for my dyslexic brain. My mind sees the whole picture but cannot see how each part fits/works. When someone tells me directions to a place or how of anything, I am overwhelmed by it all. I can’t get past the first sentence. The blind is already coming down. Whereas if it is written, I can read one direction at a time and reread if necessary. I can make one micro connection at a time.

This morning I was feeling so overwhelmed by all that I felt I wanted to do. I could not do any of it because somehow I couldn’t break it down step by step. The most wanted thing was transplanting my tomato seedlings. They are getting very lanky. They are still waiting for me. I baked bread instead. It’s a much bigger task but I have done it regularly for a number of years. The steps are almost embedded in my being. It was no struggle at all. It was a very fluid thing and I am now enjoying the slice of my labour. I will attend to the seedlings after I’m finished.

So, now supper is over and done with. I am ready to cuddle up to the TV. I did transplant my Big Beef Tomatoes. It took 10 minutes for 10 seedlings, a minute per plant – one micro-movement. Now I have to micro-move myself to a micro shower.

 

A MICRO HISSY FIT

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Having a micro moment of irritation. Wasted a couple of hours following through not procrastinating on ‘need to do’ chores. Was on hold for too long waiting for the ‘next available’ receptionist at the Veterinary Clinic to make appointment for Sheba’s yearly checkup. Was not successful. Should have waited till Monday as I was inclined. Then wasted more time online trying to register for President’s Choice Optimum card. After a bunch of Oops, something went wrong! it worked somehow. Why don’t everybody scrap their frigging points cards and sell at the proper price. Instead, they choose to make us jump through hoops for points. And we obey!

Okay, micro hissy fit over. I have to unwind from the day. My head is as usual full or empty. It’s not working well is what I mean. I am as usual tired. I thought I was done with the whining. It’s my end of day jabbering. Pay no mind. I’ve paid my bills so I’m happy about that. Also had an awesome exercise class this morning. And an interesting conversation with someone. Sheba and I had a good outing at the park after lunch. She could be a little more mellow though. Such a frisky gal for coming 12 years old.

What I need is a little supper and a glass of wine. I am sure I will mellow out after that. Still I am happy to be here, tapping out a few words and thoughts. I picked up some new ideas on Instagram for painting on cloth to use with free motion sewing. It has exciting possibilities. I haven’t thought about cloth as a medium before. Now I see it doesn’t have to be complicated. It is as simple as wetting my cloth. Then to draw or paint with my Inktense blocks, which is what I did on the underside of my cloth. When it dries, I will free motion sew on the top side, following the contours of the flower pattern,

I’m not talking as coherently as I could but doing my best at this time of the day. Good thing I’m not sipping wine yet. I will soon.