Inspiration From A Wall

There is an amazing Cuban restaurant in Bangor that the ex introduced me too a little bit ago. They make great food and are really good about allergies so that people with allergies can eat there- it does help that most Cuban food doesn't use gluten or nuts. The best thing about the restaurant besides the food is their wall. You are encouraged to write on their wall with your thoughts or artistic pictures and I love waiting for my food and reading the submissions. Today two specific items drew my attention. I'm sure no one is shocked that one of the items I liked was a cat....

However, this one really hit me in the feels...

How many of us have felt ourselves 'grow' away from family or others? I suspect all of us... and what about family who have passed on? I saw this and thought of my grandparents and how they are no longer around to spend time with. I miss them so much right now... it feels a bit like a physical wound that will not heal and continues to fester over time. I think of old friends who I have loved and over time we have grown apart. For some, I haven't seen them since I moved to Maine. For others, they have walked away from the relationship due to circumstances in their own lives. As I read the words I found my heart filled with emotion and my eyes filled with tears. I wonder about the person who wrote these words on the wall and what was in their heart as they shared this small piece of their soul. Lots of thoughts today...

Sadness, Confusion, and Ice Cream for Breakfast

I have been feeling tired and worn down lately. Health problems and other issues have distracted me from many important things and blogging has fallen to the wayside during this time. I am going to try and do better with it, but I will admit I don't feel much enthusiasm about anything these days. I really wish that I didn't feel this way because I love to write. So I will endeavor to do better.

My grandfather passed away one year ago today. I feel a lot of conflicting emotions about it and it is still a tender spot. It feels so close in time to now that even my ex couldn't really comprehend this morning that it has been a full year- he was quite sure this event had happened more recently. So today has been filled with family, work, and dessert to help make the day more cheerful.

These pictures are a few days old, but I thought they would be fun to share today for a smile. Bug loves ice cream and his favorite currently is a cotton candy flavor- its blue and looks horrible but he is addicted. I was cooking breakfast the other day and he went and got a spoon out of the drawer and the ice cream from the freezer and sat down to eat it. When I noticed, I laughed and grabbed the phone to take a picture. Bug hates pictures so he immediately got up and tried to leave, but I still caught some of him in the picture.

The funny part is the spoon he was using. This picture gives a clearer view of the spoon he was using... which is supposed to be used to stir cocoa in mugs.

Happy Friday and love to all. :)

The Space Between Life and Death

To sit at the bedside of the death of a friend is to look into the gaping mouth of hell. Grief chops at you little by little as their life is slowly drawn away. Sometimes, watching every breathe is painful and you want to see the continued rise of the chest ... and you desperately want it to stop to end the suffering therein. You find yourself stroking the frail frame and speaking of the banal because you can't say all that is in your heart for there are no words... or the words and emotions behind them will not help and will only cause more hurt. So you sit quietly and listen to every breath until you find your own mind and body become the mirror image of the life ebbing away. Your breathing slows and all you can see is the simple image of life and desire intertwined. You start to feel their pain in your own body and your mind whispers the same prayer over and over and over. You don't even feel the tears running down your cheeks and barely notice that you can no longer see as your glasses are coated with the tears that have been falling over your lids for what seems like eternities. You struggle to notice the discomfort in your limbs because your own comfort has fallen behind your one need- to be present in those few moments that will soon be over and will never be repeated. In these moments, I feel my own weakness... my own inability to stop suffering or help to end it. I feel some of my beliefs crumble to ash and I am forced to face the deficits in my faith and my heart. The bone deep weariness that surrounds you feels like the new normal as everything you do brings you back to this single point... sitting in a chair next to a friend... watching the failing physical frame and murmuring to the strong soul within which will soon be released. You watch the seizures and you shake, the breathing and you mirror it, the silence that envelopes you both. For this brief periods of time, I hate death and I pray for it... I push it away as I grasp it... I welcome any positive change even if it means death has won for now. Soon, the mouth of hell will close and only love and grief will live on... but in these brief moments I feel like I learn more about what hell really is and what heaven may be than any Sunday school lesson ever taught. And I do have so much more to learn... so much more...

Self Care.... Filled with Hormones

I have been struggling this semester. I think there are a few reasons including feeling a lot less motivation with the loss of my grandpa, work health problems... the usual suspects. I tried to work on some homework but I seem to be unable to concentrate on either history nor interdisciplinary studies so I found myself roaming my shelves for something to read. I have agreed to try and take some time for self care- I'm quite terrible at it and I am working to do a little better- and I have decided that some of my self care should include stretching and fun reading. My eyes slid down the rows of books and then stopped on my nutrition textbook. I have never been willing to get rid of it because I sometimes find myself using it as a resource for trying to understand comments from my doctor better or even as a resource for a history paper. So, amusingly enough I hauled it to the couch (We can't say I picked it up because it's huge) for a bit of 'light, restful reading. I found myself quite frustrated by the reading so please take that in mind when I discuss my thoughts below... I guess it wasn't very restful reading.

I entered this chapter with little knowledge about hormones and how they affect the average person’s body, and by extension, my own. I have listened to doctors chatting about my hormones to my parents from about the age of 14 onward. In almost every doctor’s appointment that I attend as well as incidental evidence in my own life, my hormones are in control of me… and not me of them. I see menstruation and the whole process of hormones in a very negative light. As early as 18 years old I wanted to get a hysterectomy to try and end at least part of the process. The only thing that has stopped me from a hysterectomy is money... and if I was offered the opportunity to have it done tomorrow and have it paid for...I would not hesitate at all. As mentioned in the text, some of the societal and cultural ideas around menstruation are definitely alive in my mind for I too believe that I am filthier and more disgusting during the time of my menstruation and I want to avoid people and try to do anything I can to hide it. I don't talk about it much and I used to go to great lengths to hide any evidence including sanitary supplies from any one in my home- I even used to hide it from my husband when I was married... which was challenging and sure looks foolish from where I stand now. The way I think sure has changed... as evidenced that I am try to talk about it here. I found myself a bit bemused to read the words on the pages in front of me such as “One Indian phrase for menstruation is the flower growing in the house of the god of love” and “when researchers looked for positive changes in the premenstrual phase, they can find those as well." I haven't found those yet I guess.

The chapter listed a lot of research on women's health as well as hormones and sexuality. I suspect that the reason there appears to be so much research focused towards these topics is that hormonal changes are seen as an overall negative in quality of life for the majority of women. As Americans live in a fairly patriarchal society and women are not seen or treated in many cases as equal to men, focusing on the differences- and perceived negative differences- makes perfect sense. In general, if we look for the bad over the good that is what we will find. As a history buff, the discussion of women, women’s health, and sexuality have been seen in a negative light throughout many cultures and ages in time. The text also mentions that religion can also play a role in how hormonal changes, menstruation and reproductive activities are viewed and treated. It seems clear to me that many cultures and religions view the unique actions of women's bodies as problematic and use social pressure to control these actions, using members of both genders to create and reinforce this pressure. Another thing that most people who practice medicine have noticed that wasn’t mentioned in the text is that there is gender bias when it comes to many serious problems such as pain, heart attack, etc. How a person is treated when experiencing these disorders can vary widely based on the gender of the person experiencing them and that bias tends to create more negative outcomes for women than for men. What these facts and ideas say about our culture are not great. If the perspectives and biases in our culture and society tend to be more negative towards women, their health and potential in our society, it shouldn’t come as a shock that more studies are focused on the negative aspects of women and their health when research is being discussed, funded, and developed. If society sees men unconsciously as physically better and less hormonal as the male gender has no outward appearance of hormonal changes as stated in the text, then it also makes sense that research is much less likely to turn its focus toward men. Research in general tends to start with the spark of an idea on how something works, an idea of how to change something, or even how to fix a problem or perceived difficulty. If a culture in general is unable to recognize that men’s hormonal cycles exist or that they are important, no funding or time is going to be focused on that as it will be seen as waste of time and resources. I think that creates difficulty for both genders as men’s health and experience is ignored or undervalued so that problems are not recognized and potentially helped and women find that that their health and the study of their health is focused more on the negative aspects of it – or perceived negative aspects- and less on the positive traits and aspects of the health differences.

If more research was focused towards men and their health as well as hormonal cycles, I believe that we could gain knowledge that could be quite beneficial for men and the health problems that occur for them. However, it must be acknowledged that the majority of all medical research is focused on men- just not hormonal research- and it is vital to start including women in these processes. Excuses for leaving women out of health studies include the perceived 'variability' of their hormone cycle and the 'uniqueness' of the female body's functions... which feels a bit like a cope out. After all, the majority of all of our bodies- male and female- work and respond the same in similar circumstances.

I am not sure that reading this was really good self care or if I found myself distracted and worked up about something that really isn't super relevant to my life right now. But I found a few things that I was interested in researching at some point. I wonder how much of my health problems is based on some of the external influences the text mentioned. Do I feel more pain because of hormonal changes or because I feel like I ‘should’? Do I feel dirty and awful because of my sensory disorders which cause challenges with the physical sensations… or do I feel that way because I have been taught/ influenced to feel that way? Are the mental symptoms of confusion and personality ‘changes’ really a part of the hormonal changes, part of what I expect to happen, or pieces of both intertwined in the perspective and package of me? Certainly interesting questions to ponder this evening. Although the ponder must end soon as the guys are headed over. :D

What are your thoughts?

Grief

Someone once told me that grief hurts so much because it is love that has nowhere to go. The love you have that you want to share is trapped inside you and escapes through your tears and the shaking that those tears create in the rest of your body. Most days I am doing well. I have so many wonderful things happening and I have so much to point to with gratitude and joy. But some days, I find it harder to focus on the good things. I found myself sitting with Bug today watching different pieces of the Harry Potter films and thinking about my grandparents. I thought of my grandmother laughing, serving turkey and gravy to everyone with a dishtowel tucked into her apron. I thought of the look she would get when she would look at me- like I was an amazing treasure in her eyes. I thought of my grandfather and how just a few months ago, I was able to sit next to his hospital bed and hold his hand. I could feel the warmth and strength in it... and also the fragility. When I left to return to Maine I cried, because I was worried it was the last time I would see him alive... and it was.

I have spent much of this evening thinking of both of my grandparents who I didn't get to spend enough of my time with and lost so much time with them that I dearly wish I could have now. So sometimes, I find myself sitting quietly in the dark with the tears running so quickly down my face that everything is a blur and my glasses are too coated to afford vision. And while I sit and pray and feel desperately alone in my grief, I hear the small soft sounds of cat paws. And within a few minutes I am no longer alone. I have Mina glued to my side like coconut oil and Minion's comforting weight upon my lap. I listen to Roccu sitting on the top of the couch behind me, purring fit to burst. And for that moment, the darkness seems to ease and I no longer feel alone. No, I didn't have enough time with my grandparents and I regret that very much. But I am also grateful because I was given more time with them than I might have gotten. Grief is a process and I know I will work through it, but for tonight it holds me in its grip and I will embrace it until I am able to feel the peace enter my heart again. I know I will see them both again someday, but for now that feels like 'some day' too long.

Nothing worth having comes without some kind of fight... Got to kick at the darkness 'til it bleeds daylight - Barenaked Ladies

PTSD, Torture Specific Syndrome and the Varied Effects of Torture

In some of my readings, this week I was asked to look into the symptoms of psychological torture and how they differ from 'physical' torture. The psychological effects of torture are many, varied and while not as easily 'seen' by the naked eye as physical torture... as just as damaging to the victim's mental, physical and cultural health. However, unlike physical torture, psychological torture is harder to define, prove cause and effect, as well as determine whether it has occurred at all. (Maybe that is why more 'civilized nations' such as the United States will use it more than physical torture.... it gives the leaders plausible deniability. It also appears to give the perpetrators the 'idea' of being humanitarian but also getting the results that they are looking for.) So, whether torture was provided by physical means, psychological... or some of both, all have many of the same effects on the person affected. Isolation, for example, tends to produce changed brain function, disorientation, etc.... and has been described to have some of the same effects as a severe physical beating.

Other symptoms can be insomnia, PTSD and other mental health challenges, emotions such as guilt, pain, grief, anger, as well as problems that can bring back the images and feelings inappropriately. Many victims can feel pain in different areas of their bodies (constant or intermittent), migraines / headaches, troubles eating, social and relationship difficulties as well as severe problems with self identity. Delusions and other psychosis can be caused as well.

Unfortunately, it is also suggested by statistics and interviews that the people around the persona affected end up with many of the same symptoms, challenges and negative world views as the actual victim. So torture is not just the destruction and damage to one human life, but several... a bit like second hand smoke.... invisible but quietly making some internal changes that become difficulties and illnesses over time.

Torture Specific syndrome is usually described by four categories of symptoms:

1. impaired memory and concentration
2. sleep disturbances / nightmares
3. anxiousness, depression, physical symptoms that come without any findable cause, such as stomach complaints, breathing and heart problems,
4. other mental health problems such as depression or anxiety

These symptoms appear very similar to me as almost the same symptoms of post traumatic stress disorder and I suspect that these disorders are treated very similarly if not in the same ways. I'm actually a bit skeptical (and the textbook suggests many others are as well) that they are actually different disorders. It seems like they are just slightly different ways to describe the same problem. I wonder if people would feel more comfortable with one name over another.... like some parents did with the terms Asperger's over autism even though they are parts of the same thing. Not sure. Definitely some challenging reading this week. :)

What do you think? If you have been diagnosed with either disorder... which name 'feels' more comfortable to you? Any thoughts?

Alone No More....

I had an interesting, painful experience at church last Sunday. It has taken me a few days to really process it and to understand this profound experience and how to complete my grief process to a peaceful acceptance. I once shared a really painful and challenging post on a different blog site about some of my previous experiences at church. And at that time, for the first time in a long time, I felt some support and a feeling of relief. I had so much emotion and pain bundled into my body and my heart and sharing some of the grief and challenges felt so releasing. I thought that in that experience I might have removed some of the pain- to puncture the bubble of figurative pus and then clean and bandage the wound so healing would occur. I now realize that was only a start, and not actually an experience that brought me near the end of my journey.

I have been enjoying Sacrament meeting so much lately. After years of being unable to really hear it, I take great comfort in being able to sit with paper and pen and just listen. I try and take notes on the things that strike me in the talks and later I usually head back to the apartment and reread and ponder the things that I have learned after a visit from Bug . I have also had the wonderful opportunity to help new friends with their children and so I can sit and rock with a beautiful spirit snuggled into my lap while we color or draw and sit and work on reverence. It is something that I enjoy so much and I look forward to every week. Sometimes, I will be surrounded by so many beautiful children that I can't take any notes, but I feel the spirit and I do feel spiritually fed. I so look forward to those meetings and the peace that I feel.

Yesterday was fast Sunday. I came to church a bit disheveled and very tired so I sorta knew that being or feeling spiritual would be harder for me. Within a few minutes of sitting down as we were singing the opening hymn I saw Ian out of the corner of my eye. When I looked over at him, he waved and slowly came over to sit with me. And so I spent Sacrament meeting with Ian sitting next to me watching him draw and quietly encouraging him to listen. It was a relatively normal Sabbath meeting for me... until the last testimony.

At that time, Ian had climbed right up onto my lap and was quietly sucking on his thumb while I slowly rocked him back and forth. Sister Erickson started talking about our ward family and how much it means to her. And as I listened, I slowly came to the realization that I feel a part of this family. For the very first time in my life, I truly feel like I have a real, supportive church family... a group that loves me and I belong to. And, as I rocked back and forth, I saw the past image of me standing in the back of the room. Standing all alone with my son in my arms or one my shoulders. Just alone. Feeling blocked off and alone and not able to fit in. Wishing for help, wanting help, begging and needed a friend and having no one. Just standing and wishing that I too could sit with everyone. And now I have it, but I don't have my son. I can't sit with him or hold him and that opportunity I lost forever. And without meaning to, I found myself rocking Ian and quietly sobbing like my heart was broken. I felt so alone and sad and just unable to stop rocking and crying. I just pulled Ian closer who seemed to enjoy it and he continued to smile and look at me as I sobbed. The testimony ended and the group started sing the hymn “Because I Have Been Given Much” and as I listened to the words I felt this pulling of gratitude for what I do have, but at that moment I felt so hurt and alone. I missed my son, my life, my loved ones, my siblings who are so far away and I didn't feel like I could move for the pain of it all. A moment later, I felt a person sit next to me and put their arm around me. For a brief moment, it felt like the Savior holding me and I heard the voice of Spencer W. Kimball saying “God does watch over us and does notice us, but it is usually through someone else that he meets our needs.” As people continued to sing, I sat and felt so loved and not alone at all. Even though I was in the back of the chapel and this brother had been sitting in the front, he felt prompted to notice and come help me... to hold me.... to remind me of Heavenly Father's pure love for me and soon I was able to sing the words as well.... “I shall give love to those in need; I'll show that love by word and deed: Thus shall my thanks be thanks indeed....”

I know it to be true from the very bottom of my heart. I am not alone any more.

A Temple Day

… and one that was amazing I might add! I am so excited to share it!

So last Saturday was set for a branch temple trip. A day that so many people were going to come down and watch a wonderful couple get their endowments and then the whole family would get their sealing. I agreed to come and watch children at the nearby church so that whole families could come and other couples could actually do endowments with each other instead of the more usual (one person stays home watching their children and the other gets to go to the temple.) When I agreed several weeks ago, I didn't really have any idea of the full emotional challenges that I would be hit with this week, but I actually should have known... any trip to the temple is usually preceded by challenges so that I have to really actively and painfully force myself forward and those challenges do not end until I get to the temple... or at least a few hours into the drive. This week was no exception... although I think that the challenges I have faced this week were a bit more than I have ever experienced and they never were truly able to be left behind this visit.

So after some initial difficulty of getting into the church building we got all the children in and set in the nursery and the gym. A few Kindles were passed around and my computer was happily enjoyed for a few games of 'Plants vs Zombies.' The younger ones came into the nursery and we found many toys and fun. I got to officially meet a new member of the ward and for the next few hours I lost myself in the task of watching several children – I think eleven at the highest count. Helpers came and went , but the children were a constant and they gave me so many laughs and so much joy. A few things really stick out about this time.

1. At one point early in the day I was asked a question by one of the sisters that I answered honestly, but with great difficulty. I was able to turn away to hide my distress and I think that I managed to actually hide most of it (I'm not foolish enough to think I hid all of it... I think that sometimes my pain seeps through my pores and is always visible no matter how much I try to smile) The second I turned and closed my eyes I was tackled by a beautiful child named Claire. She wrapped her arms around me in a big hug and gave me a kiss..... and then went back to what she had been doing. I am not sure why she did it, but it meant the world to me. I felt this outpouring of love and care that pushed the tears down brought a genuine smile to my face. I felt more confident and just took a deep breath and dived into the work with most of my soul and not just my body.

2. One of the younger girls asked me to help her use the bathroom. I walked to the bathroom with her and stood outside while she completed her business and when I walked into the room to help her finish, she gave me one of the most wonderful lessons I have ever received from a child. She carefully explained that some boys may look like girls... they might have long hair or wear earrings, but she knew a sure fire way to tell the different. See, girls ALWAYS use toilet paper when they use the toilet, but boys will only use toilet paper when they poop. So, she explained, if I am ever in doubt as to whether someone is a boy or girl... I can follow them to the bathroom and spy to find my answer. (I am still laughing about this!)

3. At one point , I was reading a book called “The Tawny, Scrawny Lion' out loud to a room full of children and one of them came and leaned up close. Her name is Kess and she was so interested and was leaning so close I thought she might climb into my lap at one point. I have never really spent any time with her before so it was nice to get to know her a little better on this trip.

After 2pm, I was able to head up to the temple and do baptisms. And to my surprise, even though I was over 1/2 an hour late and wasn't even sure I could sneak in... they were just starting! So I was able to change and join the group. This was the first time that Kess and her mother had ever been to the temple to do baptisms and I earned something really, really quickly... I am not the only person with severe sensory problems in my branch. The idea of total immersion was clearly fearful and terribly uncomfortable for them both. Both of them managed to do one baptism each and it was an amazing experience to view these brave women, struggling so hard to do something that other people find easy or take for granted. Baptisms used to be very uncomfortable for me with my sensory problems and I have really had to work with my body to make them something I can do and still feel the spirit. At one point when Kess was trying so hard to figure out how to do the baptism through her fear, I realized that I was praying and begging so hard for her to be able to conquer her fear for the few seconds it would take.... and I realized that everyone else was too. All the people waiting in the chapel were standing at the window watching, the men around the font, and the rest of us.... just silently pleading with the Father to help her. And she did it! She managed to do it and I am so grateful to have witnessed such a wonderful and brave act. I was so blessed to be there and I am so grateful for the examples that so many wonderful people give me.

After the baptisms and confirmations we started home. I was riding with some friends and they gave me a tour of Kittery and also took me to see a beautiful lighthouse... (I thought of you, Carolyn, as I looked at it. It was soo beautiful and so familiar... I realized it must be a very famous lighthouse because I think I have seen it on cards and some calendars as well.) Then I stayed over at their house in a wonderful cozy bed and slept better than I have in ages. All in all, an amazing day! Thanks for letting me share it. :)

2012 Poetry Corner # 7 : Duo Haiku

My heart feel so full
love, grief, confusion, need, hope
May today be well


Hope springs eternal
love wells upwards inside me
May the day be blessed

2012 Poetry Corner #2 : Freedom

There is a peace in being free
A stillness I have never known
The opportunity to be
Still, silent, aware





There is confusion in being free
So much I do know know
This isn't where I thought I'd be
Old, tired, alone







There is a grief in being free
My soul feels battered and bruised
But loss brings opportunity
Slow, sure, divine





There is a relief in being free
I can chose my own way
What I do is up to me
Whims, promptings, choice





There is stability in being free
For my schedule is almost my own
What the future holds, I cannot see
Change, clarity, being



So soon I will be free
And I will own what's left
May I move on and clearly see
Joy, possibility, love

2012 Poetry Corner #1 : New Views

A heavy heart is quite a burden
More than a barrow of rocks
It does no good
Only extends the grief
And makes it hard to breathe









To lighten the burden is just as hard
The task is great and daunting
But good will come
The grief will end
And growth will begin again





So surely it's best to let it go
Even though both choices feel just as hard
For one will show
An ending sweet
The other- a grief observed....

The Face of Fear

Something terrible happened today... and as the day goes on, it feels more awful. I am not a large person. I am quite thin, not terribly tall... adjectives used to describe me tend to be synonymous with small, or scrawny. I tend to think of myself as a small person... rather insignificant in this world and I tend to think of myself as in some ways non existent in the lives and the world around me. If I think of myself at all and my affects on others, I tend to think of myself in either positive or neutral terms. I know that I make mistakes and I know that in many ways I am not a strong or a wonderful person, but I know that I try and I truly want to love everyone... even those whom have caused me the greatest harm. I am not strong enough to not feel the pain they have caused or to pretend that it hasn't happened... especially when my life has been so drastically altered. I do not feel like I really recognize my life anymore. I am not sure that I even recognize myself. I wish for much, but all who see and feel these hard times in their lives wish for something else. But it is not for me to decide. All I can decide is what to do with the time that I have been given. And what happened today was awful.

It doesn't sound like much. It doesn't actually really sound awful. But when I was out today a woman saw me. And her response was fear. Even in a public place, she feared me and my reaction to her presence. After a few minutes, she gathered enough courage to scuttle like a bug across the parking lot to the store... her discomfort and fear evident in her movements and posture. I have been told that I am vindictive and that my anger is terrible. I have also been told that this person feels she has done nothing wrong and has had no part of my current pain. She has severed her relationship with me and appears to have been successful in taking everything of value that I possess... So why does she fear me? I do not believe I am vindictive. I have accepted so much more pain in an attempt to spare her family and to spare others from the choices that were made. I feel like I have suffered so much more in an attempt to protect and to give homage and respect to our past relationship. But I think I am truly saddened and humbled to see this. I take no pleasure... only pain and grief that no matter how positive my actions, one of Heavenly Father's children feels so much fear. I don't think I have anything left to give and what I have given hasn't been accepted or worked really.

I just feel so tired of the struggle. It is starting to feel too hard and too long... but I am grateful. I think that I am starting to see light in the journey forward. May God bless us all... that his children feel less fear. For faith cannot live in fear. There is too much fear in this world. I pray that someday I will not hear of someone in fear of me. Even though I think the fear is not justified, I pray that it diminishes and is conquered. I know of nothing else at this point that can rid all of us of this horrible fear. Maybe as a new year comes, fear can diminish as well. I pray for this to come to pass. I do not want another day like today.

C.S. Lewis : A Life Comparison

While thinking of leaders that inspire me, I immediately thought of many popular ones- Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr., Nelson Mandela... the current leaders that have a great deal of well deserved good press. When I caught my thoughts, I laughed that I had thought of only well known and popular leaders... and then an image of Tiger Woods flew into my head and I started to giggle- I think that he left his 'moral compass' a few times in a hotel room. :D I decided that I really needed to step back and instead of just looking for someone in a 'leadership position' that inspired me, I needed to think about the values and principles that inspire me and then take the time to think about specific individuals. During this mindful process, only one name really came to mind. For this exploration into my leadership skills and values, I wish to explore and examine the life story and values of C.S. Lewis.

Once the image of this person entered my mind, I will admit I couldn't imagine using anyone else. C.S. Lewis had been a part of my life through his written works- from the age of eight when I began devouring the 'Chronicles of Narnia' and really building an understanding of my world... to my current life experiences where I am studying and discovering ways to understand the current fear and grief that I feel in my life by studying his work 'A Grief Observed.' The more I learn about him and his life story, the more opportunities that I have found to really look at myself and how I view the world. I agree very untruth to state that in many ways over the years, his writings have shaped my thoughts and beliefs. (That said, Mr. Lewis says almost nothing that doesn't agree or fit in with the religion I grew up with... so where that religious training and his (Lewis) influence begins and ends... I cannot really be sure.) This assignment seemed like an excellent excuse to study more about C.S. Lewis... and about myself. I intend to discuss parts of his life story and values and then describe how and what they mean to me and what I have learned from him and his story.


Mr. Lewis didn't have a idyllic childhood and he had a bit of difficulty with trials when he was growing up. He was close to his mother who died of cancer when he was nine years old. His father then immediately sent him to an English boarding school that he hated. This was a struggle for him especially as a young child to basically lose both of his parents- his mom to death and his father to distance, broken trust, and anger. While my experience was different in the physical details, many of the emotional details are similar. Both of my parents are still alive, but in many ways they might as well be deceased. I was born to deeply religious parents and I am the oldest of five children. Things were never very good in my childhood memory as my mother was always frantic, angry and things I cannot adequately describe. For six months when I was twelve, my childhood was good... or at least calmer and different. My mother was diagnosed with XXXXXXXXXX and was on heavy tranquilizers for that time (I know the diagnosis from the whispers- I can not swear it's correct. This was a time when lots of stuff had that particular label) She was kind and she smiled a lot and I only remember feeling fairly safe and sort of hopeful. When it comes to my family I have not felt that since that brief period of time. After six months, my mother decided there was nothing wrong with her, stopped the meds and has continued on an angry, manipulative, controlling manic path ever since. My father appears to have avoided the house and the family like the plague and so I felt trapped, angry, sorrowful, and I learned to hide, push back, and struggle on my own. I learned to lie, and do what ever it took to survive- within reason as I never tried prostitution- I think that requires a level of confidence and trust and a little more self disgust than I actually have. :) In many ways, C.S. Lewis took the right path- he believed in himself and found it acceptable to question everything. It didn't hurt to question, it didn't make him feel weak to question... he used it to build himself up, to improve his mind and confidence in his abilities and understanding of life and himself. What I can learn from him is that you can allow yourself to grow from adversity, you can be successful and a good person no matter what the trials of your childhood. He was able to build a relationship with his father over time that wasn't perfect, but was 'good'. That took risk, tolerance and an understanding of himself and human nature that wasn't his alone. I can have that gift too- I just need to want it, to actively work towards it, and to cut myself some slack when I stumble... because if I don't, I will continue to be unwilling to take risks and will only continue to be scared, confused, and closed up. Listening and reading about his early years inspires me to try and rework my story and to discover the good depths inside my early life, even if it is only the understanding of it and the hope for better and the drive to find joy now... and to give joy to others.

When C.S. Lewis was a young man, he studied and discovered his Christian faith. Because of his intense and questioning journey to faith, his faith became quite strong and became a part of everything he did. His faith infused all aspects of his life, including his quiet works of charity, his writing and his married life. I admire his intense struggle to find faith as many people do not or are not able to struggle enough to find this. I admire his openness about his beliefs and his religion- his 'no fear' attitude about sharing it with not only close friends, but anyone. As I have looked at his example and been able to really explore and learn about my faith, I have become braver about expressing my faith in ways I didn't feel comfortable doing before. An example is that I feel comfortable telling people the truth about why I do not drink alcohol now - that it's against my religion- and not just try to deflect the question or attempt to make sure I am never in a situation in which the question might come up... or even pretend to drink some so that I look like everyone else. His example has helped me to feel more motivated to learn about my faith so that not only do I understand what I believe in, but I feel more secure and confident in living what I believe. Both Lewis and myself believed in charity and service and that is an aspect of my life that is very important to me. While Lewis usually gave money and gave about 50% of all of his book profits to charity, I will admit that I tend to give 'sweat'... as I do not have a lot of money. I volunteer for the local animal shelter once a month, the local food bank twice a week, and I help people who ask for it during other times, including free babysitting, church volunteer work, and rides and shopping for people who are in need. This is a very important aspect of my life and I think that I wouldn't be a very good person without these opportunities. I learn so much about other people and I gain access to information and understanding that you cannot just get from a book or from chatting with someone. Service is something that feels good and feels even better if people do not know about it... it becomes a pearl of joy and a smile in my heart. So while I cannot give in the same way that he did, I have discovered that I can give... and I do have lots to give! I have learned more about my faith, gained understanding of other human beings and tolerance in general. I have also learned an important lesson from him in that when he taught about Christian ideas, C.S. Lewis stayed with very basic doctrines and didn't get political or so specific that people could feel angry or offended or left out. I think that this is a really important concept and few people are able or have been able to accomplish this when discussing divisive topics. He was able to work to bring people together in faith... and not just become another individual whose works divide and hurt people. Learning from him- even though he is not of my particular sect- has made my journey more fruitful, gives me ways to understand others and an example of how to work with people better; to find the common ground with others and to work from there. Even in as divisive a topic as Christianity and religion, he was able to do this... so there is no reason that I cannot. I just need to keep working on the idea and how I approach and see others in body language and in speech.

It probably comes as no surprise to many that C.S. Lewis was a prolific writer. However, while he wrote Christian apologist works, he wrote pieces and books that were successful in many different genres. (Some of his popular books actually started out as speeches that he gave.) However, his dream was to write poetry and that was how he started his writing career. His poetry was not popular and few people read it today. However, he didn't allow the disappointment of his career in poetry to hold him down. As he also liked writing, he dabbled his hand in that- and no one can truthfully say that he was unsuccessful in that regard! I really believe that his writings have literally shaped and changed my life. I love writing and I hope that I am pretty good at it, but my first love really is poetry and while I write it... I am not very good at it. Something that Mr. Lewis and I have in common... along with the fact that we are both horrendous at math. :) Over the last two years, I have tried to share my writing talents with others in a way that felt 'safe' for me and I have done that by blogging anonymously as 'Badgerdown'. I started my own blog and I think it is unique from many blogs in the way that I write about almost everything and anything- I have even shared my poetry on it. I measure success a little differently than the writing success of Mr. Lewis... whose novels, nonfiction and even the mass of correspondence with friends and fans are almost legend to those who knew and study him. I am writing which is something that I really enjoy. And, by blogging, I am learning to express myself not only through my writing but how to express myself to others. I have tried to write about things that I don't understand and learned how to research so that I do develop some true understanding. And in learning how to research I too have really been able to explore my faith and what I believe... and really determine why I believe what I do. Writing has helped me to be more successful in my self introspection and in learning to communicate better with other people. And seeing someone be so successful at writing and in living his faith is inspiring to me and makes me feel motivated to try harder to be successful myself. I want to write a book and I have started collecting research on the Spanish Civil War which is a topic that I am interested in – not sure how many other people are interested though. :D I feel successful at writing because I feel more confident as I continue, my blog gives me an unknown audience from around the world (literally), and I learn so much which is a joy for me and is part of what makes me feel like I am successful. Writing was not something I imagined that I could do successfully as an adult and while I may never really make money from it, this author's example and dedication have shown me that I can but try. And while trying, I think I have done a pretty good job!

One last similarity that I have found and thought I would discuss was the loss of of marital partners. C.S. Lewis married Joy Gresham and when they were married he knew she was dying of cancer. That didn't change his grief and anger at her death. In his struggle, he wrote a journal that became a book about grief. That book has really helped me to find a voice and an understanding of my current grief. I have not lost my husband to death or to cancer- I have lost him to his depression and through the stresses of raising a special needs child and my failures. I have found that many of my feelings seem to be the same as the ones that Lewis describes.8 I feel anger at the unfairness of it all, grief for my loss, fear over the future, uncertainty about how to precede... and a discomfort around others who do not understand. His words, while making me cry, also lift me up. I feel so much less alone and I see that it is possible to get through grief... it is simply a stage of life and a growing experience. Time does go on and it is possible to work within my self and my faith to rise to the challenge. I feel less alone as others have tread the path of my emotions (which at times lately feel bi-polar) and they have survived... Lewis describes getting through grief as a person who has lost a limb- even with help they will not be the same ever again. And I agree with him. I will never view life or its challenges in the same way that I did before. In some ways I feel like I have lost the most important part of myself and I do not see that any replacement could be as good or even as wonderful as my original 'limb'. But I will still have enough to move on with... I will still have the capacity for joy... I will still have the world and my friends and my faith to sustain me.

In conclusion, I think I have shown many of the reason that C.S. Lewis has been such an inspiration and motivating force in my life. While I have not taken the time to show all the parallels I saw between the two of us, I have tried to highlight the most important ones to me. This exercise was helpful to me in a few ways. One way is that I was able to articulate some things that I do not chat about with almost anyone... that is a different experience for me. I also enjoyed the opportunity to really study someone that I admire and to learn more about his life and not just 'selfishly' stick to contemplating, devouring and consuming his thoughts. Thank you for this assignment and I hope that I have completed it well.

Highlights from my Summer

Boy, this has been a crazy year... for me at least. But even with the yuckiness and the trials that have caused me much distraction and grief, I have had some brief moments of awe and joy. I thought I would share a few and it comes as no surprise to me that most of these moments contained animals or nature in them. So here they are:

1. I got to spend a bit of time weeding this summer for some extra money. The time out in the sun was wonderful and I got to really see a few fun things. I got to see a monarch butterfly,







The longest worm ever!





Small juvenile foxes running along the road looking for food....











Frogs with amazing voices- loud and clear!












Large spiders just hanging out in midair....











Huge amounts of ants and pupae moving along the ground....












Tiny toads in the grass.










Newts hiding in the grass and the wet












And the smallest slug I have ever seen in my life!













A few things were really memorable and remind me why I live in a rural area. I saw:

a hidden duck nest















huge blossoming plants of daisies... they are my favorite flower!











Seals near the shore where I was working. They would come several morning in a row and just play in the surf and the shallows. It was beautiful and I am sorry that I wasn't able to get a picture except for the disturbance in the water after the seal have reentered the water.












The pasture that I have been trying to grow is doing very well... almost too well as the plants grow so quickly and thick that I do not keep up and I end up with grasses and flowers as tall if not taller than me.











I had some of the priesthood over to cut wood late this summer and it was such a blessing. It was also amazing to see how much wood so many of them would carry at once. It makes me smile. :)













Bug had a great summer. Our blackberry bushes were abundant and he enjoyed filling large containers of berries.
















Bug also experimented with making donuts and I was the happy recipient of his labors. He happily fed me donuts until I didn't feel like I could eat any more. It was wonderful!









How was your summer? Do you have an experience that was wonderful and inspiring that you would like to share? What blessings did you have?

Ending my Day...

I have been studying C.S. Lewis in my free time lately... I will admit that there hasn't been much free time :) I have loved to study him for decades and loved to read him when I was younger. But recently, I have been using him to study myself, my situation and my faith. Over the last few weeks I have found that many of the the large stack of books are starting to gather dust and only one rises quickly to my hand and I find myself thumbing through it and staring at the same paragraph. I think it is one of the most thought provoking set of sentences I have ever read.

“And grief still feels like fear. Perhaps, more strictly, like suspense. Or like waiting; just hanging about waiting for something to happen. It gives life a permanently provisional feeling. It doesn't seem worth starting anything. I can't settle down. I yawn, I fidget, I smoke too much. Up till this I always had too much time. Now there is nothing but time. Almost pure time, empty successiveness...”

I really feel this way. I am starting to realize that some of what I saw as fear was actually grief and most of what I saw as anger was actually despair and sorrow. Figuring out how to describe what I feel has been quite difficult and when I read this statement from Lewis, I actually took a quick breath and a voice in my head said 'That's it- That's really it.' I have found the words to describe how I feel which also helps me to understand and deal with it.

I have lost my joy, my heart, and potentially all that I possess. But I still have my life and my feelings and I will continue to move forward in faith and thru a divorce process that I never expected, never wanted and have to live with the choices that have been picked for me. I feel the constant movement of time and I am horribly busy with five classes and starting a new job and yet I feel that I have nothing but emptiness and time mixed together. And I should not feel this, but I feel alone and I feel the urge to withdraw from all around me. Funny enough, I feel embarrassed over my failure because I do not consider a marriage to fail through the faults of only one person and I have not been perfect. So in all my grief and tiredness and sorrow, I am sitting here wondering if I feel like withdrawing because I feel so much pain... or if I feel like withdrawing because I am embarrassed. I can be quite silly sometimes. :)

Well, here goes nothing...!

I Can Not Celebrate Death.

I have felt a little conflicted over the 'good' news of the death of Osama Bin Laden a few days ago. News reports and videos show people celebrating and in a general state of happiness as well as the usual comments that 'he is in hell', etc... I will admit that my first emotion was simply sorrow and relief. I get the impression that these emotions are quite unusual in this circumstance. Yes, I was relieved that he can no longer do a lot of damage or some of the horrible things that he has done. But I was sad for a few reasons. First of all, I find it fairly hard to celebrate any death... In fact, is there ever any reason to celebrate death? Everyone of us is Heavenly Father's child and while we may not always agree with them or even intensely dislike what they do, they are still a child of the Father. The Father grieves for our actions and this man's actions just as we do. I guess I also see his death not as a just punishment for his actions, but as an 'easy way out' and a mistake.... for now he is a martyr. I am not a history expert, but I have certainly gotten the impression that making martyrs of people rarely hurts the individual's cause. As a Mormon, I am reminded quite often in church about the martyrdom of the prophet Joseph Smith and through readings it has become evident that his killers were attempting to end the existence of the 'Mormon' church... well, that didn't really work, did it? And Osama's death certainly seems like a good recruiting tool for his organization. Whereas putting him in prison would have stopped some of his work and brought him back in the eyes of many to the stature of a human being... which in the end is what he is. He is not a monster or a demon... he is a child of God.

I also feel for his family and his friends who are now grieving. Grief is grief, and for those who died on September 11, 2001 their families still grieve and many are consoled that their relatives were wonderful people. The friends and family of Bin Laden probably feel some conflict in their feelings. No matter how we feel about Osama Bin Laden actions, beliefs, etc... he truly lived his beliefs. How many of us truly live our beliefs... even when they are unpopular? In the end, his actions have caused the death of thousands... many who are not named when we look at the wars that have begun. And we have vowed to hunt him down and have done so and taken away his life. I guess I cannot help but think of the line that we tell our children when someone hurts them.

'Two wrongs don't make a right'

It seems too bad that we do not always follow our own advice. I truly hope that his death brings some peace and closure to other people, but I cannot feel joy or exhilaration at this event. It feels like a symptom of society's collective anger and not justice. It is simply another sad piece of the human tapestry that we weave.

Thoughts on Conversation and Healing...

When I was volunteering yesterday, I was given a blank diary from 2008 with beautiful pictures and quotes on different pages. I liked the pictures so I brought it home to glance through and a quote on one page really caught my eye. It is:

'One of the most valuable things we can do to heal one another is listen to each other's stories' – Rebecca Falls

I had three thoughts as I was reading and pondering this. The first was that it really is healing to be able to talk about what is on your mind- at least it is for me. When I do not talk about things it almost feels like bad thoughts are able to 'fester' and become an infection in my mind. And healing an 'infection' is a lot harder than trying to deal with the original thoughts. I can understand the need for secrets and for not discussing EVERYTHING on your mind, but I also think that many times, problems are more easily ironed out if the feelings and thoughts are discussed quickly. I think that having someone who cares for you and listens is great and does help in the healing process especially in very painful circumstances. I don't even think that they have to actually agree with you... to just be there and to care means so much.

Another thought was that some people do not feel comfortable listening or even being listened to except in rare circumstances. And other individuals have suggested that discussing a hurt can be not only complaining but harmful depending on the complaint. An example that I thought of was a discussion on Facebook where a friend discussed her hurt and anger at the treatment she had received by church members in her ward in Utah. Another person piped in and suggests that she was in the wrong to even suggest something bad happened at church because that makes the church look 'bad'. It was even suggested by someone that saying anything that can be construed as bad is 'anti- Mormon'... and so therefore this person is as well. In this case, an act of potential healing became another painful act which created more hurt, anger, and separation- even feelings of betrayal. Nobody, even the church defenders, were looked at in a positive light by the outsiders of the conversation that I heard from. And that feels fairly sad, because I have no doubt that everyone, including the original speaker, loves the Mormon church. But the conversation itself became another nail that could be used against the church instead of an opportunity for healing. While I agree that some people in some instances and due to our perception may discuss the same hurts more times than we think they should, I can see how that would happen if the individuals never felt listened to or had their feelings validated at any time in any conversation.

The last thing that I thought of was how polarized I feel our society is right now... and it feels like nobody wants to listen to anybody unless the individuals involved already agree on everything. I feel like the world is full of so much blame and anger and there is nothing that I can do. Yes, I can listen and I can pray and I can hope and show patience.... but I am just one. And it doesn't feel like it makes a difference at all. I go to the foodbank every week and I listen to those who are looking for work and have been for so long and have been unsuccessful for reasons they can do nothing about such as poor teeth, chaotic living arrangements, homelessness, disability, mental illness, no transportation, etc... These people are stuck in catch 22's and I cannot help them either. Heck, I didn't get the last job that I applied for and I am still looking. Last year, I joined a program to help my family become more stable, more financially independent and to get the help we need to move forward. The program is over and considered a success, with promises never fulfilled and our family even less together and stable than when we entered the program. We have no team, no help, less financial stability and our family is broken. We are more alone than we have ever been. And so many others are as well. In a world full of people, that doesn't really make sense to me at all. I want to help, but I am starting to think that my hands are not strong enough to even help/support me... let alone anyone else.

I really believe that being able to talk can really heal pain and sorrow (and anger) and can help people move forward. How can we draw a line so that people can talk without so much fear? The fear of judgment and being misunderstood looms large in many... including myself which is why I have learned to hold my tongue on so much. I am not sure that I am served in that regard as well. I do think that my soul is starting to fester which makes it even harder for me to feel comfortable around anyone. What can you do in your life to try and change this? What suggestions do you have to help other's feel comfortable talking with you? What would make it easier to talk to someone else when you need to spill? How would you support yourself if you needed some help for a while from someone outside your family- whether emotional, financial, etc...?

There is Special Providence in the Fall of a Squirrel...

Today, I caused death. Not intentionally and I certainly am not bragging... but unintentional or not, I killed a squirrel. I did the usual try and slow down...swerve a little... all the things that you do while driving at 25 miles an hour and panicking as you see the squirrel leap lightly into the road in front of you and start to run. But, unfortunately for the squirrel and myself, everything I did was not enough and I hit him. And, while I was going fairly slowly, it appeared to be a quick death.

I feel so uncomfortable with the idea that my actions, unintentional or not can cause hurt, pain, or in this case death. I pulled over to the side of the road and my first thought was “Father, please change this.” My next was “why did I leave the house so early? If I had been a few seconds later.....” That kind of thinking is foolhardy and certainly didn't change the situation at all. I recognize that I may do this to people (hurt, not death) on a fairly frequent basis and that thought is overwhelming and uncomfortably sad. And, as I sat by the side of the road, I think the grief that I have been feeling for weeks just flooded into me and I couldn’t do anything, but climb out of my car and carefully cradle the squirrel in my hands and just sit by the side of the road and cry. I cried for the loss of the squirrel but also my losses and my fears and I just cried. I must have looked a wreck and half crazy... just kneeling by the side of the road, crying and praying and holding this poor dead animal. I eventually wrapped the squirrel in a holey t-shirt and buried it under the snow underneath a beautiful tree and headed off to town to 'fulfill' my responsibilities and commitments.... but throughout the day I could feel the grief sitting so close to the surface of my heart and the tears barely behind my eyelids.

I have to find a way through this grief. I am so far behind in school it isn't funny and I just feel like -nothing-. Just nothing. I do not feel like doing anything and I am just going through some of the motions and pasting a smile on my face and trying not to be angry because that won't help. I frankly do not feel like continuing to endure. I know this sounds funny, but in a way I am so glad that I hit the squirrel because I think I was forced to not only grieve but think about my choices and what I want right now. But I do wish that I could have learned the lesson some other way.

Alcohol, it's Digestion, and 'Potentials'

I will admit that alcohol is something I do not really understand or have much experience with. So except for classes, I don't really have any personal experience. Last semester, I found myself quite shocked to see the high statistics on college drinking and I think that studying these subjects really help me to see that I am not actually missing anything. :)

Alcohol is an easily metabolized 'food' which can go straight from the digestive system to the bloodstream. Most of the metabolism of alcohol takes place in the liver-- unlike most consumed foods which are broken down in the digestive track. The liver produces an enzyme called alcohol dehydrogenase which helps the body to absorb and metabolize the alcohol to get it 'out of the system' so to speak. When the liver is trying to metabolize the alcohol, it uses the enzyme mentioned above to turn the alcohol into acetaldehyde... and then eventually into carbon dioxide and water.

While alcohol is able to easily enter the bloodstream, there are many factors that affect the body's ability to break it down quickly and deal with the onslaught of too much alcohol. In an average, healthy person with normal liver function, the body/liver is able to break down 5-7 grams of alcohol per hour – to put that figure into perspective, that is approximately half of one beer. So if you drink faster than your liver can metabolize the drink, then you will become 'drunk' as the alcohol affects your brain function. Gender and race can also affect how the body is able to deal with alcohol- for instance, Asians and Native Americans have much less ability to metabolize alcohol in comparison to Caucasians. Women also have less ability to digest alcohol due to less 'body water' and low activity of the enzyme to digest it... and the woman's stomach is not able to digest as much of it as the average man's. Because of these differences, women are more likely to suffer from alcohol related complaints... such as cirrhosis, ulcers, etc.... Both genders will suffer complications due to frequent over-consumption however, which can include muscle damage, decreased memory and brain damage, reduced immune and nerve function and increased blood pressure... and only temporary relief from anxiety, grief, peace and other emotion/mental health concerns.

There are also two nutrient deficiencies that are common in individuals who overuse alcohol. A general depletion of the 'B' vitamins such as foliate (helps produce and maintain new cells), vitamin B12 (helps maintain healthy nerves and red blood cells), niacin, thiamin, and vitamin B-6. The drinker is also at risk for being short of the fat soluble vitamins as well... such as vitamin A, D, E, and K. As alcohol is able to have a negative effect on virtually every organ system in the body, the potential negatives of alcohol use far outweigh the few potential positives.

So, for individuals who do still wish to have the occasional drink, what exactly is the definition of 'one drink'? That appears to depend on what the contents of the 'drink are... as each type of alcoholic beverage can vary in how much alcohol it contains. A general rule of thumb is is to consume 15 grams of alcohol you must consume:

5 oz wine
1 ½ oz hard liquor
12 oz beer or wine cooler

It is considered moderate usage for a man to drink no more than 2 drinks a day and a women should not consume more than one. It should also be remembered that for some individuals, even a moderate amount is too much- such as pregnant females, children, specific medical conditions, etc... And while there is scientific evidence that there are some health benefits to moderate drinking, it is fully recognized that the potential negative effects of drinking are so much more potent... and so it is recommended that those who do not drink should not start for their health! And for those individuals that do drink, they should do so very moderately... or even a little less!

So maybe I am not missing out on too much... :)