My apologies to the young couple, your Public Display of Affection was caught by my camera and my heart. I thought before the ice leaves Marquette, love has bloomed. Before daffodils and crocus, before the men on the ice stop fishing, before boats can sail, there is love. Thank you! It’s all we really need. Love.
You do your best to maintain a plan, keep to the Day Planner, make progress. But it is March and winter lingers on, this time with an intensified artic blast leaving you in the powerful gusts of -12 Fahrenheit. Fingers numb as you break in your car from the only unfrozen door, crawl between driver and passenger seat, up to the front and wiggle between the seat and wheel. Luckily your smaller, 30 pounds smaller.
You’ll make it to work despite feelings of trepidation and try as you may with clear sun, cannot get past this mood. You are already bailing on the day, looking for outs that lead back to bed and blanket. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? Signs of fatigue, flare-ups, aches too reminiscent. The mail box haunts you, calls to you, it’s what does not arrive. It is what you cannot control. Worries. Fears. Short comings.
You send out ships, visit harbors, waiting. Plays of light make steel look like putty. Blink eyes, shake head, get it clear, form a frame on the image. Losing your grasp you walk away. Run even. Scroll through want ads, wonder at this life and how you got here. Here?
You have a lack of friends, but appearnaces would not lead one to think this. Yet happiness finds you on the trail. Light. Frame. Click. Shutter, exposure, elements. Balanced then tweaked. You pull out the hue and use a strong contrast and ice turns blue, orange, green. Magic creeps in in the digital dark room.
Just the moon last night, full. Just your cycle mothly, annual, crazed. Tired. The blanket is so close. Or 30 miles away. You can turn the phone off. Or forget it on the bathroom counter in some random house. You don’t have to go near the balck mail box. You don’t have to come up empty handed. Rejected. Overlooked.
Go to a shoreline. Breathe. Cloud Hands on Gaine’s Rock. Part the Clouds. Biting wind. Icy walk and slip away.
You think of two men walking a boat across ice, tied to each other. Tied to each other. Ties. Tied. Strung. Out. Dangerous. Winter.
You’ve forgotten to write all these years. You’ve kept your distance. Stiff. Cold. Dead. Under all that ice, sheets, heavy.
But the light is bending. Rift.
When taking part in a weight loss program it is good to remember your upcoming weigh-ins and not to go out to eat twice the week before. This led to some panic for me and I limited my food over one day (in interesting ways over the course of a day) in order to ge an okay result. Yesterday, I stepped on the Y scale at 6pm at a weight of 175.0 (no change from two-weeks before).
The home scale weighs me heavier than the Y by about a pound and a half. So this morn. I am 175.8. My low since this adventure began is 174.2. Let me tell yu what a joyous day that was! I was past this 175 pound miracle milestone. Yet, I had not idea it was a milestone until I was under it. Somehow at under 175 I felt skinny (smile, giggle).
I was very disappointed by an injury over the last couple weeks. Tendinitis type issues with bursitis in my right knee and iliotibial band syndrome which is common in runners who up their mileage too fast. Or with me, add in some job strain, tripping over something, and the fact that I have inflammatory issues from time to time. It all resulted in a week and a half out of the gym. I should be overjoyed with maintenance with the weight. It wasn’t easy to rationalize or even be logical though.
What helped was viewing some of my old posts. Like last year when I hung my first show and the weight and sight of my big buddha belly pushing out of a form fitting white sirt (oh what was I thinking in wearing THAT top!).
Body awareness if odd, now. I do not know myself right now. I will catch a glimpse and o who is that. Or I will get super-critical of ow weight is coming off in one area and not another. I marvel at who lies underneath the weight. As my overall health improves, like not needing my inhaler, more energy, I think miracles are possible. I am getting back into energy healing.
I used to practice reiki, la-ho-chi and massage. I am remembering, reconnecting with that Yoda type energy that is available to all of us. When I had chronic fatigue years ago it helped to visualize myself as an Etch-a-Sketch and letting pain and dis-ease filter from my body like the lines on an Etch-a-Sketch screen being shaken and erased.
Due to my past health issues, and the new challenges I am putting my body thru, night time is often like being in a “training room” muscle massage, heat wraps, cold packs, supplements clutter the coffee table as I address inflammation and nurse myself. I am also using visits to a chiropractor (Doc Craig Thomas) and my massage therapist (Erik Winkelmann).
Slowly, things improve. Sometimes there are setbacks. There are victories.
I noticed it earlier in the week. The sun reflecting on snow had more yellow, less blue. The angle of light higher, warmer. The melt off roofs forming twisty icicles in the warmer winds. The snow levels going down. The roadsides looking dirty with sand and snow no longer fresh, nor clean.
I started thinking of music festivals and art shows. I started thinking of long hikes on camping trips. Macro shots of moss. Fishing and clicking digi-captures of herons and eagles. I thought how blue in summer is warmer than blue in winter. The days so long they feel like a good stretch, an adjustment of energy. Paths underfoot, soft like massage, healing. The scent of lilac. The song of birds.
I thought…OH CRAP! I am not ready! I do not have my life where it needed to be. I want to be Beth Millner when I grow up! Beth travels creating and selling art. I want that. Check out Beth’s blog and Etsy shop, too. I know life on the road is not idyllic–it is dang hard. But you wake to owls in trees, meet interesting new friends, get teeth pulled in foreign countries (I might skip that part, though).
So, I have to get ready. I need to prepare for that life. Here’s a list of To Dos:
Many years ago, when I first shared my dream of being a songwriter with one of my best friends, she knitted her brows and said, “Huh?”
I can’t say I was deflated by all of the warnings that followed. After all, I had always been surrounded by this kind of “practical thinking.” In fact, I probably shared my dream with her just so she’d talk me out of it.
During this fumbling stumbling time in my life, I met a man who became an unlikely best friend and mentor. He was a brilliant jazz musician, and he could do pretty much anything on the computer.
One night, after he performed at a local jazz club, we were walking towards my car. I told him my dream of being a songwriter. Without even blinking, he said, “Honey (he always called me Honey), you’d be a fabulous songwriter. That’s perfect!” And he meant it.
At that moment, I felt like I was falling into a soft clean bed. I had never experienced such direct and truthful encouragement without a single “practical” warning attached to it. This friend set me free by offering one simple thing: Encouragement.
Fast forward many years and successes and failures later. I’m surrounded by encouragers. I’m sure there are doubters around. But they don’t register anymore.
Also, I have become an extreme encourager myself.
I’ve observed extreme encouragers. I’ve also recognized some traits that they all have in common. Here they are:
· An extreme encourager lives by example
The best encouragers are the ones who live it. Whether they’re just getting started, or they’re veteran risk-taking creativity-living wild-women – the encouragers are the ones who want a bigger life for themselves and are willing to “go there.” This is why my jazz musician friend could simply offer encouragement when my other friend could not.
· An extreme encourager actively listens
Encouragers know that encouragement doesn’t mean you just tell people to “buck up” or “get over it.” They know how to listen. This means looking at the speaker, listening to her, setting agendas and judgments aside, and honoring the speaker as a wise soul.
· An extreme encourager avoids clichés
Avoiding clichés is actually a result of actively listening to someone. Being an extreme encourager doesn’t mean that you blindly tell people “You can do it!” or “Let go of fear!” It’s deeper than that. It’s seeing the truth of the other person, especially when they cannot.
· An extreme encourager acknowledges the hooglie-booglies, but doesn’t focus on them
We all have the hooglie-booglies. These are the voices that tell us we can’t, or we shouldn’t, or we’ll fail, or we’ll look stupid. An encourager doesn’t focus on those voices because she knows they they’re trying to hook her. An encourager simply acknowledges that the voices are there and that you can’t make them go away by arguing with them. An encourager knows that those voices aren’t the truth. They only SEEM like the truth.
· An extreme encourager remembers that no one knows what’s best for anyone else
An encourager knows that we are all wise and that sometimes we make choices that might not seem so wise. An extreme encourager calls out our deepest desires and then helps us see the thoughts and fears that hold us back.
· An extreme encourager accepts miracles, grace and mystery as the deeper truth.
Extreme encouragers are often mystics of sorts. They know that the so-called “woo-woo” stuff is more real than the so-called “logical” stuff. They celebrate the divine as a simple fact of everyday existence and don’t get caught up in the “prove it” mindset.
· An extreme encourager knows that you can develop the needed character traits as you go
In other words, she knows you’re ready now, even if you’re not perfect yet! I shudder when I read advice that discourages people from trying something because of character traits “required” in advance. “You shouldn’t blog if you’re not disciplined.” “If you don’t have focus, you can’t be a writer.” Most of the successful people I know developed these traits as they went. I certainly did. Encouragers understand the huge potential for growth in each human, especially when someone begins to follow her heart.
I’m grateful to the encouragers! And I’m grateful to be able to pass it on to others – either my friends, or to women in my retreats or my coaching clients!
Who has given you the encouragement you needed in your life? And do you pass it on now?
Performer, songwriter, and creativity consultant Christine Kane publishes her ‘LiveCreative’ weekly ezine with more than 4,000 subscribers. If you want to be the artist of your life and create authentic and lasting success, you can sign up for a FRE*E subscription to LiveCreative at www.christinekane.com.
See Christine’s blog – Be Creative. Be Conscious. Be Courageous – at ChristineKane.com/blog.
I took a look at this digi-capture and knew the title immediately, Not Phoenix. The facade of this building reminds one of stone-faced structures in another place–not the wilds of the Upper Peninsula. And like the cold and sometimes desolate place that it is, The North takes its toll. This is NOT Phoenix Baby!
I tell people that in the Upper Peninsula we only travel as fast as the winter lets us. But that is not always true. Sometimes we push ourselves, wanting to get’r done just like people living everywhere. But this winter we had great snows and frigid cold. Sometimes we extend ourselves too far. Then frustrated we sit on the sidelines wanting to jump back into the game. Like this building that called to me.
This aging building, looks to be vacant. It is falling to disrepair. I want it! I want to start an artist co-op in this building. Now if I can win the lotto.
Now if walking up to it was not such a trial right now, with my knee. Oh how I want to check out the interior, climb its fire escape, check-out its bones.
You know it is the climate, the economy saddled with harsh winters, that was the downfall with this structure. Someone tried to make a go of it. Now…empty, vacant. Ghost dreams of new possibilities blow thru the crack windows.
Here I am today, side-lined. Some undiagnosed injury has me calling into work. I am angry at my injured body, my fragile body. I worry that I am jeopardizing my job and my immediate finances. I have to pull money from a vacation fund that took me all last year to save. A simple doctor’s office visit $78.00.
At times, I think I should be employed in a job that is not so hard on my body. But my job is pretty much recession-proof. Best to stay put, go with longevity, and the fact my employer has sent me to training and invested monies in making me a skilled-employee. Besides, I have the best boss. I have looked at classifieds continually over the past year, and I keep coming back to the fact my boss is fantastic. I like the people I work with, too!
I sit waiting for a call back from my boss. Worried. At 7:30 this morning I called my doctor and got the last open appointment today-3:30 p.m. Still no word from my boss. I think this is a work injury. But I called my fantastic boss on Friday evening, Sunday, and this morning. The silence is scary. I have trust issues.
I got off work at Friday 5pm. Drove home. Stepped out of my car and went Ooooooooooooow!
I had not worked-out since Wednesday morning and had had no weakness, soreness. I had done nothing new or challenging on Wednesday. Just a short 20-minute run.
At work, assisting on stairs, that is when I felt strain. I thought not much about this. I just re-positioned my foot to line with knee and kept assisting someone with their ascend(s) and descend(s) of a staircase. I just keep assisting someone from floor to standing. (Home Health Respite)
We are all fragile. Some jobs put constant strain on our body parts. I think we should all have AFLAC or some other supplemental insurance to protect us. But the thing is, when you make under the EIC how do you begin to afford such things. Uninsured. In an accident prone world. This equals fragile.
So many of us turn our lives over to our jobs, trusting everything will be okay. Heck, we walk out the door each day hoping everything will be okay. We get out of bed hoping everything will be okay.
Lose a day’s work and pay. Spend more than a day’s pay at doctor office. Dig, dig, dig your hole. Just do not listen to the news (it won’t help you feel secure–trust me on this). Look to the sunrise. Grasp at hope. Trust you are making the right decisions. Carefully put foot on floor, walk lightly, hold railings, brace knee. Look for silver linings. Hope they rain some abundance. Have the best day you can.
*Update–whew! heard from Boss :-) and I am going into the work clinic at 1:45 and seeing the same doctor I saw last time I strained my knee! Whew! Sigh! Some semblance of peace arises on this sunny morning.
(Later today I will write on my expereince in driving a motorized shopping-cart/wheel-chair while grocery shopping on Sunday)
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