No Man Is an Island

Those days when you just don't feel 100%. Do you have those? And then I feel guilty for not feeling 100%, so I try to figure what's causing it. What I've done wrong. And when I can't, it just makes it all worse, and I begin to panic.

Then I have guilt for panicking, and the spiral just keeps enlarging and spinning out of control.

Things have been really busy around here since we got back from our Cozumel diving vacation. You know the one where I only got 2 dives in because I developed middle ear barotrauma and had a stomach virus? Yes, that one.

Yesterday I was really feeling down in the dumps and really beating myself up for those feelings. Add to that I had to go to for allergy testing. (If you've never done this before, be glad!). I was dreading all the poking and needles and the CT scan of my head. But mostly I was dreading the professionals not understanding how hard it is for me to take care of myself.

I talked with my therapist. I had a healthy lunch. I took some meds, after calling to make sure it was okay. I got to the office early with my crochet to calm myself before being called back. I answered questions from the nurse. She took my blood pressure and asked it I had a headache. I said no. She asked if I was nervous. I said extremely. My BP was high. I explained as succinctly as possible that I have chronic PTSD and it just adds to my stress in these situations. She was very kind.

The doctor came in and we chatted about what had brought me to them. I volunteered again about the PTSD. And something shifted. In a really good way. She looked me right in the eye and said, "Thank you for telling me that. I believe in a whole body/mind/spirit approach to health." Then she proceeded to give me the name of another patient (with permission) who was also a survivor and has recently written a book about it. The doctor also told me if I had any trouble during the testing phase to tell the technicians to stop and call her. 

Compassion is an amazing thing. She didn't treat me with pity or asked for details. But when she was examining me, she noticed and commented on my survivor necklace. And she smiled. 

I went to another part of the building for testing and they were all very kind. The nurse who did all the prodding and poking asked if I was doing okay. I again shared about the PTSD. After expressing sympathy, she began to tell me about a friend of hers who was a victim of child abuse, but had been unable to find ways of dealing with it. I shared about my blog and prayer beads, and tried to listen compassionately without feeling obligated to fix his issues. As I left, I thanked her for helping me through the testing. She told me I'd helped her more.

That comment has stuck with me and made me think again about how important really connecting with other people is. How that connection is vital for all of us. And it's scary because it puts us in vulnerable positions. Positions where we can be hurt again. But it also puts us in positions to help and be helped. 

People need compassion. Compassion requires vulnerability.

Because . . . 

No man is an island,
Entire of itself,
Every man is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thy friend's
Or of thine own were:
Any man's death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in mankind,
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; 
It tolls for thee. 

--John Donne

Blessings!

linking up with imperfect prose

Wordless Wednesday

linking up with Wordless Wednesday & The Jenny Evolution

The Simple Woman's Daybook

FOR TODAY . . . August 27, 2013

Outside my window . . . my cherry tree is dropping leaves at an alarming rate. The first sign of autumn's return.

I am thinking . . . about all the things I need to get done today and how groggy I'm still feeling!

I am thankful . . . for safe travels to Knoxville on Sunday and home again yesterday.

In the kitchen . . . last night was take out as I got back into town just in time to drop dh off at his grad class.

I am wearing . . . my giant pink sleep shirt.

I am creating . . . a baby blanket for a friend who's baby is due in September. It's my first corner to corner blanket so I hope it turns out well.

I am going . . . to do laundry, pay bills, make a Target run, do yoga, Bible study, and sort through the remaining boxes of FIL stuff on the ping pong table today. Pray that I can accomplish all of that, and don't just sit down and do nothing for half the day!

I am wondering . . . about the dream I had last night. I was on a ferry going somewhere, but we were all just lying on the floor (no seating) and I was coming unglued. I was surrounded by people I didn't know, and the items I use for self-comfort. Anyone care to interpret for me? Oh, and when we got where we were going the ferry owner reprimanded me for not disembarking correctly!

I am reading . . . I have fallen prey to the 2nd book in The Hunger Games Trilogy. I swore after reading the first one and watching the movie I would read no more, but dh and I re-watched The Hunger Games last week and it made me curious. So I checked out Catching Fire for my Kindle and started reading it. I'm really a bit embarrassed to even admit it. The counterpoint is I'm still reading Overcoming Trauma through Yoga: Reclaiming Your Body, which hopefully balances it out a bit.

I am looking forward to . . . a week without travel involved!

I am hearing . . . total peace and quiet!

Around the house . . . all the Monday chores must be done today in addition to the Tuesday chores. I hate it when that happens.

I am praying . . . . for Patti at Someone Wake Me Up, as well as 2 friends who are expecting babies very soon.

One of my favorite things . . . is my cup of morning tea. Yesterday in the hotel they had a Keurig in the room, so I tried making tea with it. Let me just say that what the Keurig produced in no way resembled an acceptable cup of tea. Hot water with sugar and a hint of Earl Grey is just disgusting!

A few plans for the rest of the week . . . two days worth of chores today, a meeting in the morning, followed by a trip to the allergist. Thursday is Bible study and my last private lesson with my yoga instructor. Friday is sewing day with Linda, and date night with Alan. And on Saturday, Alan is photographing a friend's wedding so I'll be playing the role of photographer's assistant! Then worship on Sunday and it all starts all over again.

Here is a picture for thought I am sharing . . . 

the lovely flowers dh gave me 

for our 28th anniversary last week :)

for more visit The Simple Woman's Daybook

{this moment}

A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

Last

We married 28 years ago today. I was 23 years old and he was 22. We didn't know anything.

I had visions of a sweet little house and a yard filled with children. Happy and joyous all the time. Parties with food and music and lots of happy people. 

I didn't imagine it wouldn't all be like that. I didn't imagine there would be disagreements and arguments. Stolid silences. Hurt feelings. That we'd have times where we couldn't seem to understand each other.

I didn't imagine difficult pregnancies. Our children not being perfect. 

I didn't imagine gaining weight and being tired and worn out all the time.

I didn't imagine stress for him at work and frustrations of things not being the way he imagined.

I didn't imagine having to come to terms with horrors from my past that I had buried so very deeply.

I didn't imagine that he would have such strength, fortitude, humor, and perseverance. I didn't imagine I could fight so hard for myself. That he would fight just as hard right along side of me for my healing.

I imagined a fantasy. A fairy tale.

I got a real-life marriage that lasts.




linking up with Five Minute Friday

My Sixth Grade Teacher

Her name was Zelda Ottinger. Isn't that a fabulous name? She was tall and slender with dark hair and big glasses. And I thought she was old even though she was probably in her 50's. But I adored her.

For years she had taught 5th grade. I didn't have her for 5th grade. I had Mrs. Newman who was very nice, but not Mrs. Ottinger.

But the year I went into 6th grade so did Mrs. Ottinger and I got her as my teacher. She could do no wrong in my eyes. She was kind and smart and funny and she treated us like people, not like kids (even though she knew we were kids trying to become people). So she taught us about taking notes and organizing our binders. She had us give oral presentations and she let us have fun at free play. 

My favorite thing about Mrs. Ottinger though was how she read aloud to us everyday after lunch. She read in such a pleasant way adding emphasis in all the right places, but without making it about her. That was important to me, because it let me get lost in the stories. She read us Blue Willow, The Bronze Bow, and The Witch of Blackbird Pond. She read us A Day No Pigs Would Die, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, Island of the Blue Dolphins, and a host of other books that year. Some of the stories I still remember. Others all I recall is how much I enjoyed listening to her read them. 

She nurtured my love of books and reading while introducing me to the joy of sharing a good book with others. We weren't tested over these books. We didn't have to write book reports on them. We just got to listen while we digested our hastily eaten lunches. 

There was something so soothing about Mrs. Ottinger. I have no memories of her getting annoyed with anyone. I don't remember anyone in the class she didn't like. I don't remember her having favorites. What I do remember is the reading, and that I felt safe, accepted, and loved in her classroom.

When I graduated from high school she and her husband gave me a Bible that she had inscribed in her great sweeping penmanship. And later when my husband and I married, they gave us another Bible, again with that glorious signature with elegantly drawn Z and O.

I don't know if Zelda is still walking this earth or not. I know I was blessed by her that year, and blessed by the residual impact of knowing her. I'd like to think I would have been her friend if I'd been of her generation. I hope I've made her proud to have known me.

linking up with Writer's Workshop

{TH} read

too many wips

too many books at one time

and a new magazine

linking up with {TH} read

Wordless Wednesday -- Feathers

linking up with Wordless Wednesday & The Jenny Evolution

The Simple Woman's Daybook

FOR TODAY . . . August 20, 2013

Outside my window . . . I'm back in Nashville. It's overcast and muggy this morning. We may get some rain later today, but that's okay because I have nowhere to go :)

I am thinking . . . that it's always good to get back home from vacation, but there's always so much to do! The airlines lost our luggage, so I'm just getting started on soggy, sandy dirty clothes today.

I am thankful . . . that all went well here at home while we were gone, and we had a good trip and safe (albeit mildly stressful) travels.

In the kitchen . . . last night was grilled sausages, cheesy grits, and a romaine/raisin/almond salad.

I am wearing . . . yoga pants, a big t-shirt from Gulf Shores, AL, and my kids' fake crocs. Ever the stylish individual!

I am creating . . . I'm not even sure! I took yarn to Cozumel but the lighting was bad in our room and it was far too muggy to crochet outside, so I really haven't done anything in over a week. I'm hoping to get back to my half granny square shawl, but I also need to do a baby afghan for a friend.

I am going . . . to stay home and do laundry and "create" with my bestie, Linda today.

I am wondering . . . about the anxiety I've wakened with the past two mornings. I'm not sure what's driving that.

I am reading . . .  re-reading Outer Banks by Anne Rivers Siddon. Well, I was going to finish this in Cozumel, but it was more depressing than I had remembered. Instead I read

Tilt a Whirl and Mad Mouse by Chris Grabenstein. And then I started the third one in the series, Whack a Mole. I'm also reading Overcoming Trauma through Yoga: Reclaiming Your Body which is quite interesting.

I am looking forward to . . . a quick trip to Knoxville with Alan for business this weekend.

I am hearing . . . the washing machine working away at erasing the odor of 2 day old damp clothing.

Around the house . . . dd did a great job of keeping things neat and orderly while we were gone. It was just lovely to come to things picked up, clean, and vacuumed.

I am praying . . . . for the family of friend who died suddenly at 52 last week. It was probably a heart attack or stroke, but so shocking. I think it's been made worse for me because I was out of the country and unable to attend the visitation or funeral.

One of my favorite things . . . is sitting around talking with my husband and kids. We arrived home around 9 Sunday night, so it was last night before we all got a chance to catch up together. We sat talking and laughing about all kinds of random things for nearly 4 hours. It was lovely!

A few plans for the rest of the week . . . creating with Linda today, a meeting tomorrow, Precepts Bible class on Thursday, ds returns to college on Friday (and it's our 28th wedding anniversary), and Sunday dh and I head west to Knoxville for a quick business trip. Whew! The fun just never ends :)

Here is a picture for thought I am sharing . . . 

for more visit The Simple Woman's Daybook

{this moment}

A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

Small

I'm in Cozumel. Meant to be diving all week, but I injured my ear on my first dives on Sunday, so there was no more diving for me.

Small things can have big impacts. Barotitis media -- overpressure of the middle ear. Just a little tiny swelling point and 8 days of diving become 8 days of reading and crocheting and sitting by the pool (except when tropical storm Erin steps in!).

And it makes me stop and think, what small things have I done that have had a big impact, whether for good or ill? A comment made without thinking. A dismissal of something that seemed unimportant. A smile flashed at just the right moment. A touch. 

Small things are the big things.


linking up to 5 Minute Friday

This Time Last Year . . .

I wrote a piece last year called Collision.  I had been writing a lot about the tension in attempting to set new boundaries with my extended family. It made for a very difficult summer, but that's a recurring theme in my life -- difficult summers.

So what's different this year? In some ways nothing. Nothing's been resolved, but I don't seem to be struggling with the emotions in the same way. I still want to make everyone come to a happy agreement on everything . . . I just realize, now, it's not going to happen. Working on those expectations is tough stuff.

I interact with family members as infrequently as possible. I know they are annoyed and possibly even hurt, but I also know there is nothing I can do to fix it. I know that I am healthier for the choices I have made. 

I'd still like to have that Norman Rockwell family, where people are kind to each other, believing and supporting one another through difficult times, and providing an open and honest exchange of ideas. It's just not going to happen with these people in this lifetime.

I send them informative emails about things they need to know. I even occasionally send an email just to check on them. They send me notice of their travel plans, and whose died recently that I might want to know about. Sometimes there's a tone in their emails, but I try to keep mine strictly factual -- no sarcasm, accusations, or snarkiness. Just the facts, ma'am.

The one remaining constant though, is a deep and abiding sadness. Sadness about the events that brought me to these choices. Sadness that I don't have that Norman Rockwell (of Hallmark, if you prefer) family. Sadness that it can't be fixed to my liking, and maybe a tinge of guilt, still. I know it's not my fault, but if only, if only . . . 

linking up with Writer's Workshop

It's Me!

linking up with Wordless Wednesday and Wordless Wednesday at The Jenny Evolution

photo credit Alan Pennington

The Simple Woman's Daybook

FOR TODAY . . . August 13, 2013

Outside my window . . . is the Gulf of Mexico. We are in Cozumel. We arrived on Sunday to dire predictions of rain. Right now it is raining some, but nothing like the storms of last night. Hopefully things will continue to clear and my dh (Alan) will be able to get his dives in this morning.

I am thinking . . . about spending the week here without diving. I did 2 dives on Sunday morning and injured my right ear -- Barotitis Media (middle ear barotrauma). It sounds worse than it is. Some pain and swelling and a little blood in my middle ear. A common diver's injury, but it ended my diving week early.

I am thankful . . . for the good medical care provided here. They are treating me with antibiotics and anti-inflammatory medications, as well as a steroid shot.

In the kitchen . . . there is no cooking this week, but there is wonderful Mexican cuisine! White fish in a mushroom sauce, chicken burrito, Mexican Cordon Bleu, and so much fresh fruit!

I am wearing . . . the gown I made for myself a few weeks back, as I'm sitting in bed typing this up. This gown has become my favorite go-to gown. I just love the cut, and the fabric is SO soft.

I am creating . . . a new mandala and working on a baby blanket design.

I am going . . . to rest and read and crochet while Alan is out diving, and then take the afternoon from there.

I am wondering . . . about very little right now.

I am reading . . .  re-reading Outer Banks by Anne Rivers Siddon. 

I just finished Tilt a Whirl by Chris Grabenstein. I liked it so much that I purchased the second title in the series, Mad Mouse, for my Kindle (at $.99 it's a steal!)

I am looking forward to . . . a nap following our stormy night last night.

I am hearing . . . the sea and surf and realizing the rain has quit.

Around the house . . . dd and ds are on their own. I Skyped with Claire last night and all seems well.

I am praying . . . for continued safe diving for Alan and the others here. As well as a my blogging friend, Patti.

One of my favorite things . . . is reading and I've got plenty of time for it this week. Glad I brought my Kindle, a couple of books, magazines, and my Bible study to work on!

A few plans for the rest of the week . . . hopefully some snorkeling later in the week, as the doctor assured me that would be okay.

Here is a picture for thought I am sharing . . . (Alan is loving his new underwater camera equipment, and getting some awesome photos!)

for more visit The Simple Woman's Daybook

Garden Chicken Pasta

Recently I did one of those weeks where I tried to clean out that pantry and use of the fresh veggies that had accumulated around the kitchen. We were getting ready to go on vacation and I didn't want to restock the kitchen too much.

I saw a recipe on the side of the Barilla pasta box and kind of revamped it for what I had on hand. It was quick, easy, and tasty, as well as being endlessly adaptable to fresh veggies, pasta, and cheese on hand.

1 pound pasta boiled according to package directions or until tender

1-2 tablespoons olive oil

1/2 medium onion chopped

1 clove garlic, pressed

1 pint purple tomatoes, cut into bite sized pieces

1 yellow squash halved and sliced

salt and pepper to taste

Italian seasoning blend

1 12 oz. can chicken breast fully drained OR leftover grilled chicken chopped

1/2 cup Parmesan cheese

Cook pasta and drain when ready. Heat one tablespoon olive oil in large skillet or dutch oven. Add chopped onion and saute until translucent. Add remaining vegetables, and spices to taste (maybe 1/2 to 1 tsp. Italian blend). Cook on medium heat until a nice liquid begins to develop. Add chicken and raise temperature to allow liquid to cook down (about 1-15 minutes). Mix pasta and sauce in large bowl and top with cheese of choice, serving with additional  cheese if desired. Serves 6.

A good loaf of crusty bread rounds this out nicely.

Happy eating!

linking up with Made by You Monday

{this moment}

A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

Solitary

My house is full right now. Both kids are home from college. The neighborhood kids are in and out visiting and eating.

We've been helping a friend out, so he's been by the house this week. Another friend is doing some landscaping for us. Then there's my son's girlfriend who's been here working on summer courses with my son (Calculus, ugh!). My bestie came on Tuesday for sewing therapy.

It's lovely . . . mostly. 

I am by nature, these days, more of a solitary person. I'm an introvert. I can entertain up to a point, but when I reach that point, it's time for some quiet. And there hasn't been much quiet this summer.

I looked up the word lonely because I assumed it was a negative. Some of the definitions were negative -- sad, desolate, cut off from others. But one definition was solitary. I like solitary. It is peaceful. Restful. Rejuvenating.

I could use a little solitary right now. 

So I'm reminding myself that solitary is a seasonal way of life at this point. And I'm breathing in and out, reminding myself to focus on the positives and enjoy the ruckus, because solitary will come back in due time.



linking up with Five Minute Friday

I Am a Survivor

brave -- having or showing courage
(courage -- mental or moral strength to venture, persevere, and withstand danger, fear, or difficulty)

I was okay with "brave" until I read the definition of "courage". Now I'm not so sure.
Here's the problem: people call me brave. Brave for telling my story; sharing my fear; being transparent. Courage is a whole different story. "Courage is fear that has said it's prayers." I can work with that. I think of the Cowardly Lion in The Wizard of Oz talking about courage, and I relate to him, because he's terrified. But then I read that definition, and I shrink from it. But I'm a librarian and word geek and an authority slut. So I'm stuck. 

Webster's defines brave as courage, and courage as having mental or moral strength to venture, persevere, and withstand danger, fear, or difficulty. So if I'm brave, then I'm courageous. And if I'm courageous then I'm all those things that Webster says, and that just doesn't feel accurate. Because I'm the screw-up, the black sheep, the boat rocker, the troublemaker. Because it's a compliment, those words: persevere and withstand danger -- and compliments don't apply to me.

It's circular reasoning, I know, but I'm still stuck with the feeling or maybe even the belief that anything good can't be true about me. 

So I pull myself out of the equation.

A woman in her late 30's comes to the realization that she was abused repeatedly by numerous people when she was a child. She endured 2 rapes as an adult. She walks into a therapist office terrified and sick, but swears she won't leave until the work is done. Until she's figured it all out (as much as is possible). She carries on as a wife and mother while untangling her ugly, painful, terrifying history. She confronts some of the abusers and those who neglected her and allowed the abusers into her life, and it doesn't go well. But she carries on. Putting one foot in front of the other working so hard to get them to understand. So hard that she makes herself ill from it. And when she can't take their denials anymore, she walks away and realizes she's healthier without them in her life. 

She starts to write and talk and tell, finding that it helps her heal and it helps others as well. She blogs. She journals. She talks to anyone who will listen with an open heart. And she finds support, acceptance, understanding, compassion. She finds her voice and realizes she is proud of herself and all the hard work she has done.

People call her brave and courageous. Open, inspiring, and transparent. 

I read her story and I am impressed. I think she is indeed brave and courageous. And I remind myself that she is me. 

I am a survivor of childhood sexual abuse and 2 rapes as an adult. I have persevered, withstood danger, fear, and difficulty. 

I am brave and courageous because I am a survivor.

linking up with Writer's Workshop and imperfect prose

{TH} read

I started re-reading The Outer Banks this week.

What a lovely surprise to find that if grabbed

my attention all over again.

And I got a couple of new books from Amazon 

-- for my physical and emotional health.

and Peggy's recommendation from last week

In crafting news, I'm continuing to work on my shawl

and last week made myself a head-scarf

And whimsical bracelet

linking up with {TH}read

Wordless Wednesday -- A Delivery

linking up with Wordless Wednesday and Wordless Wednesday at The Jenny Evolution

The Simple Woman's Daybook

FOR TODAY . . . August 6, 2013

Outside my window . . . it is gray and cloudy. We had rain early this morning and there may be more today. We've had an unusually wet summer.

I am thinking . . . about the therapeutic relationship. It's an odd thing. There is such a level of intimacy, but in reality it is a one-way street (as it should be). My husband and I watched the first episode of "In Treatment" last night and it was disconcerting for me to watch someone else sit on the sofa and bare her soul.

I am thankful . . . for a good weekend of celebrating my husband's 50th birthday, and having my post from yesterday reposted on emily t. wierenga's stuff I dig (I Thought I Was Fat).

In the kitchen . . . we had oven fried parmesan chicken, succotash, and green bean casserole last night at my ds's request.

leftovers packed for dd's lunch

I am wearing . . . yoga pants and a print yoga tank with my everyday flip-flops. Restorative yoga this morning at 8:30.

I am creating . . . the half granny square shawl. I think it's coming along quite nicely. I'm just not sure I have enough of this yarn to make it as large as I'd like.

last week

this week

I am going . . . to keep on keeping on, as the saying used to go. I've got quite a few things to accomplish before the end of the week, including packing for our diving trip to Cozumel.

I am wondering . . . why it takes so long to release certain things. Maybe full release is like faith -- more of a process than a destination.

I am reading . . .  started re-reading Outer Banks by Anne Rivers Siddon. A good summer read for my upcoming vacation. (Just getting a head start, let's say)

I am looking forward to . . . another day of sewing, crocheting, and crafting with my bestie, Linda. We are trying to get together once a week to encourage one another on various projects. I think this is our third week in a row!

I am hearing . . . absolute quiet as I'm up before dogs and kids.

Around the house . . . FIL's possessions are still cluttering the bonus room, but his house is completely empty. Once we return from vacation, I'm making the mess on the ping pong table a top priority!

I am praying . . . I am praying for a fellow blogger whose cancer has returned with a vengeance. Read more about this incredible lady at Someone Wake Me Up.

One of my favorite things . . . is feeling pleased with my daily accomplishments. The hard part of that is recognizing that feeling is a choice. 

A few plans for the rest of the week . . . sewing w/Linda, appointment and errands tomorrow, helping a friend with a new project on Thursday, packing and last minute errands before flying off to Cozumel for a week of diving with my husband!

Here is a picture for thought I am sharing . . . 

calculus in the living room!

for more visit The Simple Woman's Daybook

Misperceptions -- OR -- I Thought I Was Fat

This past weekend my husband turned 50. My daughter posted a bunch of old photos on Facebook in his honor. And then she posted a bunch more because she was having fun. It went on and on all weekend. What a good time we had looking back at those photos -- babies, toddlers, school days, dress up. It was lovely.

But . . . but, for me there was a recurring theme that is still nagging at me. I've thought I was fat most of my life. And now at 51 when I'm heavier than I've ever been, I look back at those pictures and I realize I wasn't fat. And I find myself grieving for the lost time spent worrying about weight and what I looked like. Time that would have been so much better spent enjoying myself, my husband, my kids, my friends, my life.

It's vain and shallow of me that one of the first things I noticed looking back was my size, but truth be told I was stunned. How could I have thought I was fat? 

Blame it on a lot of things -- the media, fear of failing (at anything!), misinterpretations of comments made by others, and abuse. Abuse that made me feel "less than". Abuse that made me question every thought and idea and belief that popped into my head. Abuse that made me want to hide my body, as if that would somehow keep me from being abused again -- a protective shield if you will. Abuse that told me if I felt good about myself I was proud and arrogant, and deserving of the past abuse.

So I'm trying to learn to love myself regardless of what the scales say, and I'm learning to ask questions about my health and weight. Learning to eat and exercise in a way that honors my body. That makes me healthy and strong, regardless of what the scales and the dress sizes say.

I still would love to have that time back, but that's not an option. What I can do is move forward with clearer perceptions. And a lot more self-love.

Peace.