April 2012

“She doesn’t like to be rushed in the morning.”

“She likes a lot of individual attention and doesn’t do well in groups unless she’s the center of attention.“

“She’s hilarious and has a lot of spunk.”

“She likes to be acknowledged.”

“She likes to be alone. She appreciates visitors, but only for a few minutes.”

“She’s stubborn.”

“She says the funniest things.”

“She wants what she wants when she wants it.”

“She tends to resist certain activities, but once she gets going, she seems to enjoy herself.”

These are comments statements made to me by those who are caring for my Grandmother. Each time I hear such a statement I have one of three reactions:

1. Wow, that sounds just like me.

2. Wow, that sounds just like me, but I wish it didn’t.

3. Wow, I hope that sounds like me.

In my family, “being like Grandma” is not something to which to aspire. In fact, “You sound just like Grandma,” is not a compliment…it’s a barb. And yes, I’ve said it too.

In the past couple of months I’ve had the opportunity to see my Grandmother through the eyes of people who don’t know her very well, but who are getting to know her better. And I am getting to know her better, too. I’ve spent more time with her (and her stuff) recently, than I have in the past five years combined (she doesn’t like visitors, remember?).

It’s been an uncomfortable experience because I’ve been so invested in seeing her only one way, to the point that even when someone says something nice about her, my first reaction is to want to refute it. And boy does that feel ugly.

As I get to know her better, on a different level (and as the person responsible for her), without family filters, and having extended some grace both to her and to myself , I am seeing that yes, she has some positive traits and there are ways I am like her, both positive and negative. I am figuring out how to be okay with that.

For example, as I’ve been going through her things I have found diaries and journals, going back years and years. I haven’t read them in detail and probably won’t, but from the little I saw, she liked to make notes and observations. She loved inspirational quotes. She spent time wondering about the meaning of life. I am sure that if Facebook and blogs has existed in her day, she’d be right there, sharing her thoughts with anyone who’d care to read.

Her way of sharing was to clip articles and send them to people with a note. I know that I and other family members found it annoying…as if she were trying to fix us. Hmmmmm…

And then there’s her anxiety, which takes the form of resistance, anger, manipulation, and other annoying behaviors. As such, my Grandmother wasn’t very Grandmotherly I used to think it was because she didn’t like kids, and the noise and chaos that comes with them. But now I see that she was overwhelmed and didn’t know how to handle it.

I have anxiety too. Until now, I thought I had gotten it from my father, who tended to be passive and to avoid any an all situations that might make it worse. But he was also eminently likeable. And great with kids.

And so here I am: sometimes resistant, angry, manipulative, and annoying. And sometimes passive and avoiding. And sometimes likeable. Good with kids, but also overwhelmed by them sometimes. Among other things that have gotten passed down through the gene pool.

But most of all, I am grateful to be seeing my grandmother through different eyes. Eyes that can relate.

Can you relate?

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“When the heart weeps for what is lost, the spirit laughs for what it has found.” ~ Sufi Proverb

It’s no secret that I’ve been in a relatively cranky mood lately. I’ve been acutely aware that the more negative I feel, the more negative I feel, and I’ve been calling myself out, left and right, in an effort to get back to the self that I know and love.

And then I realized something.

As much as I believe in wholehearted acceptance – in embracing the positive and the negative as equally valid and worthy – I’ve been resisting accepting myself when I am a hormonal, bloated tick with a Linda Blair rotating Exorcist head. I’ve been saying things like, “that’s not who I am” and “I don’t feel like myself.”

In those moments, I feel as if a part of me (a more child-like, care-free and optimistic part) has been lost and I fear that it’s a forever thing. These feelings go beyond what I used to experience as PMS, which I learned a long time ago feels real in the moment but always passes.

I am starting to understand, on a deeper level, what Dr. Christiane Northrup meant when she said that going through perimenopause is like giving birth to yourself. Although I don’t know what it’s like to physically give birth to someone else, I know it’s both one of the hardest and most joyous processes ever.

So now I accept that the there is no alien inhabiting my body. The hormonal stranger is not a stranger, she is me. And she’s been there my whole life, just waiting for me to embrace her. There’s something about her that scares me because she’s a little more assertive than I am used to being. She doesn’t care as much about what others think of her, or if they like her.

And yes, she amuses me.

“What if the question is not why am I so infrequently the person I really want to be, but why do I so infrequently want to be the person I really am?” ~ Oriah Mountain Dreamer

“Whatever you are doing, love yourself for doing it. Whatever you are feeling, love yourself for feeling it.” ~ Thaddeus Golas

 

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Although I sat on my ass in the land of “nothing” for the vast majority of six whole months, one thing I knew for sure was that if adopted the “all” mentality (which I’ve been known to do a time or 10), I’d be sorry.

Being in between feels good and right.

It hasn’t taken me long to get my kettlebell mojo back. The first time I tried to do 20 snatches in a row, I was seriously winded afterwards. But by the following week? Twenty snatches, no problem. And last week? I did five sets of five cleans to push-press (right and left) and five snatches (right and left), for a total of 100 cleans to push-press and 100 snatches. With a 26-pound kettlebell.

At first, I was pressing a 15-pound kettlebell. Now I can press the 26. At first, I was doing goblet squats with the 26. Now I am squatting with the 35.

In between each set or complex of kettlebell moves, I do a series of yoga poses. This thrills my body/mind/spirit.

My kettlebell/yoga sessions usually last 30 minutes and I do them twice a week. Other days I go on fitness walks at the beach (upon reading this post from last year, it’s obvious that I need to revisit this from time to time). Or I go for a hike with Tim. Or something.

I love the yoga “intervals” so much that last week, I started doing them first thing in the morning on my bedroom floor.

No matter what I am doing, I know the moves. They’re simple, effective, they feel good, and they’re effortless from a motivation standpoint (meaning there’s nothing that feels forced…I just “do it”).

I am focused on feeling good right now, not on what I used to be able to do or what my body used to look like.

I am focused on proper form so I don’t hurt myself, not on hurrying the process.

I am focused on enjoying what my body is capable of, not on what it isn’t.

I am focused on progress, not on making my body hurt in ways that it shouldn’t.

I am focused on being in between, not on all or nothing.

Tell me about your experiences with being in between.

 

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Have you ever gotten so sick and tired of your damn self that you could barely stand it? In case you haven’t guessed (insert sarcasm here) that’s how I’ve been feeling lately. I don’t mean that in a deep self-loathing sort of way, I mean it in a I-really-love-who-I-am-at-my-core-but-an-alien-seems-to-have-taken-over kind of way. An angsty, prickly, eye-rolling alien. I think I remember feeling this way when I was 14. I’m not even going to say the H word.

I know my naturally optimistic, enthusiastic, positive, and sometimes mischievous core self is around here somewhere, but until the alien decides to vacate, I’m going to extend to myself some grace, thanks to Joy Tanksley. Her Monday Morning Sparks for the month of April have to do with grace. I suggest you watch her brief videos, but if you don’t want to, here is my take on what she says.

Four Ways To Extend Grace To Yourself 

1. When you are frustrated and/or disgusted with yourself, view yourself as the child you once were.

Sometimes it’s easier to have patience with children. In fact, thinking of answers to the prompts in my previous post was a great exercise in not only connecting to my childhood self, but in remembering that I am, indeed, naturally optimistic, enthusiastic, positive, and sometimes mischievous.

2. Meet yourself where you are without comparison or interest in where you’ve been, or where you’re going.

I have been everywhere but right here lately, thinking about how I spent most of the winter not hungry and losing weight, and at the same time worrying about what people will think if I’ve gained weight by the time Fitbloggin‘ rolls around. I KNOW!!!

I am right here, right now.

“Comparison is the thief of joy.” ~ Theodore Roosevelt

3. Embrace the concept of ebb and flow. Nothing lasts forever. Nothing stays the same. It’s always a back and forth.

You can’t have up without down, right? In fact, now that I think about it, this whole process has been about ebb and flow. Ebbing back to revisit old behaviors and fears, flowing forward as I learn something new and apply it. Ebbing kind of sucks, but embracing it is so much easier than resisting it.

4. As a last resort, when you’re spiraling into negativity and self-loathing, give yourself permission to distract yourself, in a kind (not destructive) way.

Ways I’ve been distracting myself lately: going to bed early so I can lose myself in a book; playing Words With Friends, Scrabble, and Scramble; writing; and yes, food. But I am aware…and awareness is the key to all healing!

And to even things out (because once you extend grace to youself, it’s much easier to extend it to others and vice versa)…

Five Ways To Extend Grace To Others

1. Assume basic goodness in others.

This is kind of like seeing the child in others…realizing that within each and every one of us is a child who may have been dealt a pretty rotten hand.

2. If you’re going to tell stories about other people, try your best to tell charitable stories. Catch yourself when you’re not.

This is a hard one as it concerns specific people, but I am learning to catch myself. And I have found that when I am charitable, I feel better about myself. Winning.

3. Be honest with yourself as to what you are seeing as the worst in someone else, then turn it around and find that same element in yourself. It’s ther

Ah yes…this is a great equalizer.

4. Be fully present with others without trying to fix them.

Usually one of the first signs that I need to be paying attention to my own business is when I start getting into someone else’s business.

5. As a last resort, if there is someone so challenging that you just can’t do any of the first four things, and you’re filled with judgment, bitterness, and resentment, then the most graceful thing you can do is take a step back from the relationship.

I have done this once. I am still stepped back. I don’t know how long it will last, but I get the impression that this serves the other person as much as it serves me.

__________

And just because it hit me right between the eyes and relates to my current state of being, please check out “To Thine Own Self Be True”, a must-read from the fabulous Hanlie at Ordinary Abundance.

Two stand-out quotes:

“All my life I believed that I was a product of my experiences, but now I’ve come to appreciate that I’m a product of my thoughts.”

And…

“It was eye-opening to realize that a lot of what I habitually thought were not even my own thoughts – they were the opinions, brain-farts and prejudices of others.”

Thank you ever so much for reminding me Hanlie. I have been SO bogged down in reacting to experiences (both old and new) instead of changing my thoughts.

What do you do to extend grace to yourself or to others? Any and all suggestions are welcome!

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