Things I've Seen...in Quarantine

I have a few thoughts on our current challenges. I’m hoping I can maybe share some helpful ideas to maintain sanity during this crisis! I’m somewhat tired of discussing my incident, and even more concerned with making others tired of hearing about it, but it’s possible that I gained some insight that may prove helpful to others during this time, and that leads me to hope that some good can come of what I’ve been dealing with. 

Since my incident with Cipro back in 2017, I have experienced a great deal of what’s happening currently already. In the beginning, I could not open my hands or walk, and even as time progressed, and I thankfully regained a great deal of mobility, risk of injury, present injury, or exhaustion kept me home. I’ve missed out on countless social get-togethers, Zumba classes, church meetings, and other “normal” activities that I used to regularly participate in, and spent time with Netflix instead. It has been incredibly challenging to say the least, being in pain, isolated, lonely, scared, and prevented from doing the things that used to bring me joy. 

There are choices to be made when one is placed in crazy circumstances. I’m hoping that my deliberate attempt to make these choices will provide some help! Here are four insights that I hope will be useful.

1. When I couldn’t go anywhere, I wanted to go EVERYWHERE! I suddenly came down with the most intense wanderlust I’ve ever experienced. When suddenly the opportunities for exploration were not available to me, I desperately wanted to explore it all. I’ve noticed a similar sentiment going around right now with the quarantine. Here are some ways to feed that desire: 

• Plan a future vacation. Research the area, the activities available, the cost, the pictures, the hotels, etc. Imagine yourself having the best time ever. 
• Take a journey on YouTube. There are some INCREDIBLE videos on there that will take you to all sorts of places! I love the drone videos of the Oregon Coast and the Colorado mountains. 
• Meditate. You can travel to another place in your mind, if only for a brief 20 minutes. 

2. Acceptance vs. Resistance...what is the balance? When I was injured, my reflex was to fight against the circumstances, to overcome, to get back to my life. I felt that acceptance would be accepting defeat. The phrase “get back to my life” became a constant yoke about my neck, reminding me that my life was on hold while I dealt with my problems. We say this all of the time when we have surgery or get the flu: I just want to get back to my life! However, when the trial is a marathon and not a sprint, and when the light at the end of the tunnel is obscured, this adds additional pain to our already challenging circumstances. I had to alter my paradigm. I had to realize that this IS my life. This is a chapter of my life that I cannot skip over. It’s not the life I wanted, or the life I had, but this is what has happened, and this is my story to move through. Sometimes, realizing this can help you to calm down a bit and focus on what story you will write for yourself as you overcome or endure your trial. What character will you play while you are going through it? What would make you proud to look back on when it’s over (which will hopefully happen someday)? 

3.  Use this as a case point in comforting others going through hard times. I don’t think I’ve seen a single “You know, everything happens for a reason” during this entire crisis. I’ve seen people asking, “What do you need? How can I help? How are you holding up? I’m thinking of you! You’re not alone…” and so on. You may believe things happen for a reason, and so may the person you are attempting to comfort. I can tell you from personal experience however, that when in the depths of pain and sorrow, that phrase often feels like a kick in the face, like a dismissal of one’s pain and a lecture on top of it. I would hope to never see a man sitting at a buffet full of food, staring at a starving child in the corner, and proclaiming in response to that child’s cries, “You know, everything happens for a reason!” Doesn’t that seem ludicrous when you look at it? I believe people usually have wonderful intentions, but when we know better, we do better, and I don’t know many people, though I’m not saying that there aren’t some, who truly feel understood and comforted by this phrase, or other platitudes involving positive thinking, etc. when they are seriously grieving or in pain.

4.  Be thankful. This may sound dangerously close to “be positive,” but I’m convinced that it’s different. Gratitude and grief can co-exist simultaneously. Positivity can operate like this as well, but it’s a little bit more complex. It’s scientifically proven that gratitude can change your brain. Finding things to be thankful for every day really can give you a lifeline when you’re sinking. Sometimes for me, it was that I was in awful pain but had a home with heat and air conditioning to experience that in. Or showers, contact lenses, pajamas, family, Facetime, etc. Usually something can be found to take just a few moments to feel gratitude for...and it can save you. 

These are just a few thoughts that I hope might help someone...or at least provide something to read to pass the time! Love to everyone. 

The Answer is Always Yes.

So today after almost 30 days of my "100 days of happiness" project on Facebook, I am starting to get sick of talking about "me"! I think this project is great, because it helps you look for all of the blessings in your life, but I'd like to focus outside of myself for a while! Soooo...for the next little bit I will be posting not just things about what's happy in my day, but concepts, ideas, etc., that will hopefully spread happiness to others. Today, I'd like to share a little concept that has really helped me. Anyone who knows me knows that so much of my happiness comes from the blessing of being a mother and having my sweet girls. I want to share a little idea that helps with children: The answer is always yes. Now, before you panic, this probably doesn't mean what you think it means. This means, when your child asks, "Can we play at the park?", and the answer is really "No" (for that day/time) , You respond with an enthusiastic, "Yes! We can do that on Thursday!" (another day that will work), and then follow it up with something that will distract the children from their disappointment, like, "You know what would be so fun? We could have a picnic too!" This works in many situations. For example, "Mommy! I want that toy!" in the store...Instead of following up with a "No", Saying, "Oh what a cool toy! Yes, you can have that when you earn enough allowance! We'll talk with Daddy about some chores to help you earn faster!" sounds sooooo much more positive, loving, and hopeful. It often helps to circumvent temper tantrums and makes the whole experience more fun. My parenting philosophy is to nurture my children with love and happiness as much as possible, even when saying no to something or disciplining them. Obviously there are situations where this won't work, but in general, I hope it helps a bit to make those "No" moments a more positive experience! Love you my friends!! I hope this has made someone happy today or been helpful. xxoooo

Breakfast of Champions…

It may be time to grocery shop. Formulating breakfast today was akin to a journey to Mount Doom. First, I could not have cereal, because there were no bananas, and without fruit, cereal is of course unacceptable. I tried to take inventory of what I had in the house to put something decent together. I rejoiced over my cleverness when I devised a plan to have Nutella (left over from our Christmas 'treat' food) with natural peanut butter on whole grain bread. At least this would include some protein, healthy fat, and whole grains. I put my plan into action, and upon seeking the aforementioned bread, I found that it was now extinct in the ecosystem of our pantry. I then wondered how my husband had made lunch for the girls (something he was in charge of last night), which added to my mounting anxiety. Refusing to give up, I determinedly searched the pantry and found some multi-grain French bread. If I could cut it in half and toast it, it would work just fine, although the whole grain aspect of my meal would suffer. I placed the bread on a plate, grabbed a knife, and proceeded to drop the knife on my finger and lose a chunk of the bread, hurting myself in the process. Pressing forward with no surrender, I sliced the bread with purposeful focus and attempted to fit it into the toaster. This was nothing short of an epic fail. I returned to the dangerous cutting process and shortened the bread. I stuffed it violently into the toaster, refusing to admit defeat, and despite my attempt at denial, I almost immediately smelled the inevitable burning of the abused and angry bread. I had to unplug the toaster and surgically remove the bread to avoid burning down the house. Then I had to rummage through the kitchen to find the bigger toaster, which I attempted to lift out of the drawer with one hand, while in a fit of inconvenient obsessive compulsive disorder, I attempted to keep the other hand sterile and ready to handle food . I plugged it in and successfully toasted the bread, prematurely celebrating my victory. My triumph was hilariously exterminated when I went to the pantry to pull out the Nutella, which was empty. SERIOUSLY?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!? I think I can hear hysterical laughing in the cosmos….

 

A Gift to Me, From a Christmas Tree

     Our Christmas tree this year is phenomenal. It stands close to 8 feet tall, smells amazing, and is remarkably full. Upon adopting this tree, I eagerly posted pictures on social media and remarked on how amazing it would be once it was fully decorated. Soon the task was accomplished, and while the tree was beautiful, I felt a certain disquiet that gave me pause. The Christmas tree was lovely, but the majesty of the tree itself had been concealed beneath ornaments, lights, and other adornments. I suddenly realized that in adding upon this tree, I had buried its true beauty. Almost immediately upon this revelation, I recognized a profound symbol in this observation. When it comes to Christmas, I feel that something has been lost. No, scratch that; I feel that something has been stolen. Forcefully.

     As a young child, I used to look forward with great anticipation to the day after Thanksgiving. This was the day that Christmas virtually exploded all over town. The stores, the restaurants, the schools, the malls, and the houses along the street would all reveal their holiday decorations, and Christmas would officially begin. I loved to walk into the store, look around at the gorgeous décor, and feel that Christmas, finally, had arrived. Over the years, I noticed a disturbing trend. The Christmas odds and ends began finding their way to the shelves by the beginning of November. This I shrugged off with some trepidation. However, I then noticed that Christmas was arriving before Halloween. This I received with great indignation, as I prefer to celebrate the season that we are actually experiencing, in something called reality, or a new/old concept we call ‘real time’. Soon, I found myself staring open-mouthed at Christmas knickknacks in the hot months of summer and early fall. This I received, or rather rejected, with utter hysteria and passionate fury. It was as if the world had gone completely mad. Did someone forget to look at the calendar? Was there an invisible CEO of holidays who had sadly succumbed to dementia? Suddenly, the anticipation of Christmas was a thing of the past. A dinosaur. A phenomenon that would only heretofore exist in the writings of an earlier generation. In its place was a new experience. Rather than longing for Christmas, I was running from it. Christmas was being forced upon me like a ton of pine-scented bricks. I spent so much energy in late summer and early fall avoiding the exploitation of Christmas, that when it finally arrived, I simply allowed myself permission to wander freely around the store without fear of tripping over an automated Santa or singing reindeer that would have previously been out of place. Tripping and/or marveling over such things would now be appropriate, as the season was finally in sync with the store’s environment.

     This year has been especially difficult to swallow. I suppose there is a limit on how many candy canes, fruitcakes, and iPads can be rammed down your throat before swallowing becomes impossible. Charlie Brown was lamenting this sort of thing 48 years ago. If he were present today, I would surmise that even the redemption of a sad little tree may not ease the disturbance of his conscience. I know that Christmas has been commercialized and exploited for years, but something felt especially Grinch-y in 2013. Perhaps it was the mutation of Thanksgiving into the new Black Friday. Or the commercials portraying parents who proudly proclaim that their children are difficult to please (therefore with the purchase of a $400 tablet, they are able to get the kids to look up from their iPhones for a precious 30 seconds and save Christmas). Either way, I have found that the roar of holiday noise has been particularly disturbing of late. It has become so deafening that it seems almost natural to retreat and seek refuge from the impending holiday. However, in this turning away, we have the opportunity to turn in a slightly altered direction. In forsaking all of the Christmas glitter, we may uncover the precious nature of Christmas itself. While this is not a new idea, and has been pondered in many formats, it seems even more vital now than ever. In contrast to the loud clamor and flashing images of holiday commercials, consider a silent night. In a humble stable beneath a dazzling star, a young Mary cradles her newborn son. Clutched gently around her finger is a tiny hand. A hand that will comfort, heal, and bless the world, and later bear the scar of an atoning sacrifice. Observe the slight change of spirit that often occurs in our communities. The desire for peace on earth. An inclination to love our fellow man. Providing for those less fortunate than ourselves. Gathering around carolers or string quartets with perfect strangers, and smiling at one another as though we share a secret. This is the true majesty of Christmas. It does not need glitter. It simply needs remembrance.

     Our cookies need not be geometrically precise; our gifts need not consist of the the newest inventions by Apple, Samsung, or NASA. Last week I found myself cherishing the sweetest joy over an inexpensive Princess Ballerina doll for my daughter. In a moment of profound thought (something that rarely occurs for any of us during rush hour at Wal-Mart in December), I pondered the possibility of being in a different circumstance. What if this were the only toy I could give her for Christmas? The answer was simple. I would still be one of the luckiest people in the entire world. Because I have her to give to. The imagined circumstance of having little did not bring me sorrow; it brought me a powerful feeling of joy and gratitude for the blessings in my life, and a renewed appreciation for a season in which we celebrate them more tangibly.

     While I cannot bring myself to abandon the tradition of decorating my trees from this time forth, I will never forget the quiet moment of revelation that my tree gave to me this year. Its sacrifice to stand in my living room reminds me of a greater sacrifice made long ago. When I found my tree, I knew it was glorious. Little did I know that it would stand for something precious and proclaim a simple truth. Apparently, the nature of its beauty runs deeper than I ever realized.

          

“Colder”

 

I can’t believe it’s October

I watch the leaves burn to red

I can’t believe that It’s over

I can’t believe what you said

So what if I am happy when it’s raining

You always were a little dry for me

And what if I prefer my window

open

You always did enjoy confining

anything and anyone

And

Winter may be cold enough to kill me

But it’s really not that bad

On channel four they tell me to find shelter

Something that I wish I had

The ice and the wind

Well I’m not afraid of them

But you are colder

You are colder

The promises that you made me

fall and dry like leaves to the ground

And soon the wind will erase them

Nevermore to be found

Your arrogance was always so enlightening

How blessed I was to be reflected in your eyes

To have a moment’s fame within your

judgment

I always did enjoy feeling inferior

on your radar

And

Winter may be cold enough to kill me

But it’s really not that bad

On channel four they tell me to find shelter

Something that I wish I had

The ice and the wind

Well I’m not afraid of them

But you are colder

You are colder

I can dream

of a place where I am

free to be

Where I can be

me

And it’s enough to trump propriety

I know you believe

That this is not the time or place to be in

love with

you

So I’ll just

move

So what if I must stand

alone

forever

The snow is falling down

I’m mourning all of you

I’m cold and blue

But

Winter may be cold enough to kill me

And it’s really getting bad

Remembering the times

That you were my

shelter

And everything we had

The ice and the wind

Are faithful to the end

It’s getting colder

I’m getting

                            Colder 

 

Copyright Kasey Gates Crawford 2012
All rights reserved