In my youth I exercised so I could eat more. With age I am learning to exercise so I can study more.
In my youth I exercised so I could eat more. With age I am learning to exercise so I can study more.
A cool rainy day – a great blessing after many days of climbing the never-ending mountain of fibromyalgia. I have managed to rest, guilt free, for most of the day. Now, back to the climb.
death-warmed-over has been replaced by subhuman – the day is looking up!
The absence of pain is good, the inability to focus for more than 3 seconds is not so good.
But on the bright side, my kids find my sing-a-longs to 1980s music quite amusing.
If prior to today, I was aware of Patriots’ Day then I must have blocked it from my mind. However, the moment I mentioned to my husband that Patriots’ Day is on April 19, he immediately said that was the date of the Oklahoma City Bombing, eighteen years ago. He was in Turkey on TDY, I was in Colorado feeling very anxious for his safety until it was determined that it was an act of home-grown not foreign-born terrorism. Of course, words can’t even describe how we both felt when Columbine occurred just a few years later. We had small children by then, and Columbine was not far from my husband’s childhood home. It was too real.
You would think that the middle of April would stand out in my mind for something other than taxes, but honestly I just don’t remember from year to year how our worlds were shaken in April. Unlike 9/11, the date just never stuck, at least not for me. While my world had been rocked, it hadn’t been disrupted like in 2001.
But now the Patriots’ Day will be stuck in my mind, and not as a day celebrating a crusade for independence. For the longest time the Boston Marathon had been a dream of my mom’s. Every year when it was held, especially in the years since she passed away, I would smile and remember the summers in the late-70s when she logged hundreds of miles preparing for qualifier races. She eventually made it to New York and we ran that race together, but life got in the way of Boston.
It is strange how the mind deals with tragic events, sometimes keeping the moments clear and focused , while other times blurring the details and dates. Yet, in either case, when a new tragedy occurs the emotions come flooding to the surface, overwhelming the senses.
Patriots’ Day will no longer just be a day on the calendar, and the Boston Marathon will no longer just be a race. It is my prayer that our nation will rise again and take back our day – refuse to surrender it to those wishing to bring us down.
It is also my prayer that all those who have been directly affected by the tragedies, past and present, will find peace and feel the support of their nation behind them.
The compassionate being desires to assist, to ease another’s burden. While a compassionate nature may be natural for many, the compassionate course of action can still seem fraught with uncertainty.
Observation of another’s behavior or need is not enough. The compassionate being must look beyond the symptoms and try to discern the cause of the symptoms. Only when the cause is understood can one truly act in a manner that is both compassionate and helpful.
An example I like to share deals with fibromyalgia. Years ago after an auto accident derailed me from my regular exercise routine, I was determined to get back on track, but unfortunately every time I tried to return to a routine which included exercise I would get sick. All of my symptoms indicated I had the stomach flu. I was nauseated, had chills, and ached all over. Compounding these symptoms was the feeling that I had over-done my efforts, often due to muscle soreness similar to overuse. For nearly ten years I struggled with these symptoms. Diagnosis was a tremendous relief and required a big change. I had to rethink much of what I knew about pain. With fibromyalgia one must move through the pain, taking time off as with exercise injury pain was not the solution. The very treatment I was implementing before diagnosis was, in reality, making my situation worse.
Many of the symptoms we see exhibited by other struggling or suffering through life can be easily observed but also be easily misdiagnosed. If we truly wish to compassionately help others, we must take the time to understand rather than simply observe. Without the investment of time, we may, in our compassionate desire to help, actually hinder the person we wish to help. “It is the thought that counts,” may be true with holiday gift giving, but it is not necessarily true when we try to show compassion. Well-meaning comments, suggestions, and acts can truly make a struggle worse.
When compassion surfaces, take the time to listen and learn; ask in what way you can act. If time is a commodity of which you have little, consider charitable contributions to organizations dedicated to serving people in need. It is better than well-meaning acts of compassion which are misplaced because of misdiagnosis. The last thing you would wish to do in your effort to show compassion is to cause harm because you are interpreting the symptoms incorrectly. When the desire to show your compassion is strong but your time is limited, help those who are dedicated to helping. While nothing can replace the investment in friendship and time, economic contribution is certainly better than shuffling compassion aside.
A brief glance at the morning news feed indicated another tragedy but no details, so work resumed and ignorance was bliss. A return to Facebook a few hours later revealed the missing details of a terrible tragedy. My first desperate thought was of a friend who lived in Connecticut, a friend with small children. With breath caught in my chest, I quickly checked her profile, bursting into relief filled tears as I read her post declaring the safety of her family. She declared their safety with the simple statement, “I want to go pick up my children from school and hug them right now.”
As I was consumed with great relief another emotion tore at me – sorrow. Sorrow for the families who could not hug their children, not today or ever again in this lifetime. I felt so wretched with these conflicting emotions and sought comfort through hugging my own children. Truthfully, I think they hugged me for they are young and strong and I was so weak from shock and sorrow.
It does not take much for fatigue to overwhelm me. Sorrow certainly brings on fatigue. As I sought the solace of a nap, I prayed that upon awaking I would feel a measure of peace return. This picture greeted me as I returned to the world and left the protection of slumbers solitude behind. While I ache deeply for the parents who cannot hug their children, I feel peace knowing the children, young or old, are in His embrace.
Cats may not make the pain go away, but their demands for attention will take your mind off of your pain for brief little while thus making you feel slightly better.
Fear is the easiest way to distract people from seeing issues clearly. It creates “something worse” and thereby allows bad to be perceived as good.
….
….
Is it a good thing when your kids start arguing with you as to whom the credit for pithy ponderings should go?