Category Archives: breathing

January 15, 2013 · 1:09 PM

Coloring Outside the Lines

I’m on the cusp of …. something. That feeling that you get when you’re at the very top of the hill of the roller coaster? That agonizing anticipation when you know the big drop is coming but you don’t know when…. that split second before you descend, when your body is torn between squealing with exhilaration and throwing up? Lately I’ve felt that way all the time. I’ve been on the brink of tears (sometimes happy, sometimes sad) ever since the last little bit of Christmas was packed away. I’ve been jumpy. Distracted. And when I say distracted: My normal attention span is that of a overtired toddler. Eating an ice cream cone. At Disneyland. On the fourth of July. So when I say I’m distracted, I’m reeaalllly distracted.

I’ve been preoccupied with a health scare that still could very well turn out to be nothing. I’ve been scratching my head over a disturbingly rapid succession of things failing on us… first Mike’s truck – twice – then the dropped juicer, then the clothes dryer. I almost wince when I so much as plug in the coffee maker. My blog got hacked (AGAIN), this time so badly that my host actually disabled it until I went in and fixed all the damaged files. I ended up having to completely start it from scratch.

I need to call a surgeon to make an appointment for a consultation for Spencer’s shoulder.
I need to call my surgeon to reschedule my next follow-up.
I need to email my physical therapist a copy of the prescription from my doctor because I forgot to bring it to my last session.
I need to cancel Directv before we get charged for another month.
I need to bring the clothes in from the line.
I need to clean the bathroom.
I need to get the kids to gymnastics.

I need. To. Breathe.

My birthday was last week. Have I mentioned that? Somewhere in the middle of the dislocated shoulders and doctor’s appointments and broken down cars, I turned 39. I actually had a really lovely and uneventful day (ie: nothing broke). I made myself some out-of-this-world chocolate stout cupcakes with whiskey ganache filling, and Baileys cream cheese frosting, and Mike made me a huge and perfect Cobb salad for dinner, my current I-could-eat-it-every-day-and-never-get-sick-of-it favorite food. And my sister, because she possesses that sixth-sister-sense that lets her know exactly what I need even before I know it myself, came over with a gift the same day the dryer died:

wreckjournalI’ve been a fan of journaling since forever. But my journals have always been… neat. Orderly, with perfect penmanship, written with the perfect pen. This journal is like the anti-Jen-journal journal, with instructions to break the spine, step on it, drag it, cut it, rip it, splatter it, doodle on it, poke holes through it, shower with it. It has pages for when you’re angry, pages for when you’re happy, pages for when you’re feeling creative.

wreckthisjournal

Are you freaking kidding me?? Best. Gift. Ever.

I suppose there’s a time for neat and orderly.   But – and my apologies to my husband who is neat and orderly all the time – this aint it.  For reasons that aren’t yet clear to me, I’m getting stretched right now.  And pushed, and pulled, and dragged, and dirty.   I’m so far out of my comfort zone that I don’t even see it anymore.   And on the days that are hard or scary or uncomfortable I’ll just remind myself that outside that comfort zone… in the land where it’s okay to spill and break book spines and write illegibly… that’s where all the magic happens.

1 Comment

Filed under about me, birthdays, breathing, life

September 17, 2012 · 4:41 PM

breathing.

Sometimes I forget to breathe.

Not the kind of breathing you need to, well, stay alive (thankfully your body tends to safeguard against that)… but the kind of breathing you need to really LIVE.   And dude:  breathing correctly is important!  Dr Andrew Weil, author of Eight Weeks to Optimum Health – as well as a million other natural health books – says that changing the way you breathe is the single most important change that most adults can make for better health; even before diet and exercise.  When I started physical therapy for my shoulder recently, the entire first 90 minute session centered on breathing. And whenever the kids are hurt, or scared, or flipping out in one way or another, it’s the first thing I’ll tell them.  Breathe.

Any time I’ve ever had a remotely positive reaction during a stressful situation as a parent, a spouse, or a friend… it’s been born of taking a moment to just breathe.  I know this.  I know this.  And yet sometimes, I still forget.  Yoga has been extremely helpful in that regard (as soon as you stop intentionally breathing, you stop doing yoga), as has 38 years of practice.  Still, reminders are always a good thing.

Which is why, when I was in San Diego for the Wide Sky Days conference and my dear friend asked, “Want to come get a tattoo with me?” I was elated to finally get this:

So, why was this word so important that I chose to get it permanently etched on my body?

Because breathing is the first answer to all of life’s problems, both large and small.    I’m not kidding.  All of them.  And the older I get, the more true it is.

Your 3 year old just destroyed your $600 camera?  Breathe.

Your fridge breaks, you lose a transmission, and your roof leaks all in the same week?  Breathe.

You’re stuck in traffic and you’re already 15 minutes late?  Breathe.

There’s too much month left at the end of the paycheck?  Breathe.

You’ve just read your 87th mean-spirited political diatribe on your Facebook feed?  Breathe.

You’re faced with scary news, a bad diagnosis, a new situation, or an uncomfortable moment?  Breathe.

It’s 3 in the morning and you’re up with insomnia for the 63rd night in a row?  Breathe.

It’s two weeks before Halloween and all the good costumes are taken?  Breathe.

I can’t think of a situation that wasn’t immediately and immensely helped by my telling myself, “Self, this is one of those times when you’re supposed to breathe.”  I think I must have learned to project an aura of calm pretty well, because people usually think I’m laid back.  But my brain is always going a mile a minute, certain things tend to make me freak out easily, and while I’m outwardly saying, “It’s all good,” inside I’m all “Aaaaaaaaaahhhhh!”, complete with the full-on Muppet flail.

Unless I remember to breathe.

Breathing brings me back.  Back to the person I want to be, and back to the mom I want to be.  And while I’m reasonably sure that with time and with practice I would remember that, tattoo or no tattoo, I am so infinitely glad it’s there to remind me.

 

2 Comments

Filed under about me, breathing, life, mental health

February 28, 2012 · 8:39 AM

One thing at a time

I’m a slow learner.

For the past year (at least) a big running theme on my blog has been the art of not sweating the small stuff.  Living in the moment.  Appreciating the calm amidst the chaos.  Letting go.

And I get it, and I understand it, and I feel it…. but I still find myself having to re-learn it.  Over and over and over again.

I have spent most of February MAJORLY sweating the small stuff (and the big stuff and everything in between)  I have been overwhelmed and stressed out and so, SO tired.  I was coming off one of the worst and longest stretches of insomnia I’d ever had – one that started well before the new year – and that coupled with the sudden onslaught of doctor appointments, Cub Scout activities, basketball, gymnastics, church events, writing projects, park days and birthdays and parties and… and and and…. it was all sending me over the edge.  I was unraveling.  It got to where I felt like I couldn’t do anything, so immobilized I was even at the idea of choosing a place to start.   Every time I heard that little “dink dink dink” on my phone, telling me I had another email, I cried winced.  Another place to be.  Another thing to attend to.  Another commitment to put on the calendar.

I was burnt out.  The house was out of control, I couldn’t seem to meet all four kids’ needs at the same time, and my own personal pursuits had become a thing of the distant past.  Leaving the house didn’t help, because I was so exhausted that I couldn’t enjoy it; and staying home didn’t help either, because at home I was buried under the weight of the 7425 things that needed my attention, not to the mention the growing inadequacy I was feeling as a mother (let alone as a wife.  As stressed I was, and as hectic as we were, we were lucky if we said hello when we passed each other as we ran one of the kids to their next engagement.  I think I still know what he looks like.)

I few days ago, I posted on Facebook about my feelings of overwhelm.  One wise friend told me:

“One thing at a time, finish it, move to the next.”

And it irritated the ^$@^%* out of me.  Well, I know that already.  You think I don’t know that?  It’s not that easy.  How do you do one thing at a time when you have a million things that need to be finished RIGHT NOW?  How do you do one thing at a time when you have so many things to do that there’s no single place to start?

I grumped at the mere suggestion for a good part of the morning.  “One thing at a time”… pffffft.

Then you know what I did?

I did one thing.  I finished it.  I took a big gasping gulp of air breath.  I moved on to the next.  By the time I got to the fourth or fifth thing on the list, I was breathing for real.  I wasn’t so overwhelmed.  I wasn’t so stressed about what remained undone, instead focusing on the productivity and the reality and the beauty of the moment.  I realized – AGAIN – that it really is about baby steps.   Not sweating the small stuff.  Living in the moment.  Having faith.  Trusting.  Breathing.

I was able to enjoy a fun go-cart riding birthday party for Spencer, and just a few days later threw a lovely little party for Tegan as well.  We watched Everett score in his last basketball game of the season, and accept his trophy in the awards ceremony.  We went to church yesterday, and we shopped for the supplies to make up the care packages we’ve been wanting to put in our cars for the homeless.   I got 99% of March on the calendar, and I breathed a sigh of relief that the bulk of February’s craziness was complete.

Now we’re about to head into another month, and another season, that is so far scheduled to be even busier than February.  And I’m realizing something else… also not for the first time:

I can’t do it all.   I especially can’t do it all at the same time.

Right now, I have to focus on my kids first.  They suffer when I’m stressed/not sleeping/burnt out, and that’s not fair to them.  So my first order of business is more pancake breakfasts.  More bubble blowing.  More chalk murals on the driveway.  More reading.  More singing.  More talking about Minecraft and legoes and Wonder Pets.

On a more personal note, I have a few different writing projects I’m working on for the month of March… all of which I’ll be sure to share if and when they come to fruition.

In April, I begin the marathon of yoga training that will only conclude with the 180 hours (crammed into two weeks!)  of studio time in July.

In keeping with my new adage of “one thing at a time”, I’m not sure what’s coming after that.  There’s the personal trainer exam I’ve been wanting to prepare for for the past year.  The herbalist portion of the Holistic Health degree I started when I completed the Nutrition certification program.  All the big ideas I had for my blog.  I don’t know.

I’m giving myself permission not to stress out about it, and not to feel like I have to do everything right now.   Which means that for the moment, blogging is going to be taking a backseat and squarely landing on my “when I have time” list…. along with jewelry making, practicing the piano, henna tattooes, and finally putting my vacation pictures (from last July) into an album.

I’m not going anywhere.  I’ll still be around.  It’s just that I’ve had to make the decision – one I feel good about – that this isn’t the time for devoting tons of hours to blogging.  Someday it will be, but not right now.

Right now I need to do one thing at a time.

6 Comments

Filed under about me, breathing, learning, life, not sweating the small stuff, plans, simplifying

May 4, 2011 · 9:52 AM

Just Breathe

Cause you can’t jump the track, we’re like cars on a cable
And life’s like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button, girl.
So cradle your head in your hands
And breathe… just breathe ~Anna Nalick

Yesterday, the kids and I were at a homeschool group play day at a local church (and by “group”, I mean us and one other family) We were sitting in a huge kids’ classroom, very well-stocked with blocks, lots of dress-up clothes, kitchen, play food, et al. The big kids were lounging on little futons playing with their DSes, and the little kids were, well, being little kids…. running around, playing, laughing, and making a general rumpus.

How can you not love this kid? 🙂

It was all happy, noisy, babble… and then for one brief second there was a moment of silence. Without intending to, I sighed. It wasn’t a dainty little sigh, but a big, heaving, whoosh of air sigh like you’d do after you’ve been holding your breath for a long time.

I’d forgotten to breathe again.

It sounds ridiculous to say it, but it’s true. And I do it all. the. time. Sometimes I get so caught up in the noise and the hustle and the bustle and the business of life that I almost quite literally hold my breath. I’m just kind of hanging on, waiting for that next quiet moment when I can let out that whoosh of air. When I can relax, when I can settle my mind, when I can BREATHE.

The ironic part about it is that I know the importance of breathing. I do yoga, I had natural births, I study natural health. I know about breathing. Even my kids will tell you the importance of breathing because it’s something I talk to them about often. I remind them to take deep breaths when they’re angry, when they’re injured, when they’re feeling sick, when they’re anxious. It oxygenates the body, it calms us down, and it centers us. There’s virtually no ailment that it doesn’t help in some way.

Dr Andrew Weil, one of my favorite natural health gurus, has this to say about breathing properly:

Breath is the master key to health and wellness, a function we can learn to regulate and develop in order to improve our physical, mental, and spiritual well-being… In many languages, the words for spirit and breath are one and the same (from Natural Health, Natural Medicine)

Proper breathing seems like such a simple thing, but for some reason it’s one I have to be continually reminded to work on. And I am always glad when I do. It makes me feel better, makes me a much more effective parent, and makes the day a whole lot more enjoyable (or tolerable, depending)

If you’re reading this right now: take a nice, deep cleansing breath (in through your nose, out through your mouth) because you probably need it. Take another. Take seven.

Feel better? You. are. welcome.

Leave a Comment

Filed under about me, breathing, quotes, random