Building Courage

I had my first class last Friday.  It was my "Hands On" class, but being the first one I really had no idea what to expect.  I knew there would be some sort of orientation but beyond that, I was prepared to just do whatever came my way.  The first two hours were, indeed, spent listening the the school director explain all the minute details of the school, the program and what we could expect in the coming year.  After a short lunch, we dove straight into massage.

I have never been one of those people who has always loved to massage her friends and family.  While I love to touch people, giving massages has really never been something I did.  Honestly, I balked at the idea of massage therapy for a long time because I had always thought of it in the wrong way.  It wasn't until I began to understand that it was a mode of healing that I really became interested in it. 

So when we were suddenly expected to massage each other in class, I was hit by a big wave of fear and hesitation.  I had never really massaged anyone before and now I was expected to give a massage to some girl I'd just met.  It wasn't that I minded touching her, it was that I had no idea what I was doing!  But we were under some time pressure and I had no choice but to jump right in and do the best I could.  I felt awkward and unsure but I did it.  The nice thing about massage is that really, any massage is a good one so I don't think what I did was terrible -- but I'm sure it could have been better.

My homework for this class is to give massages to 3 different people every week.  I have very quickly acquired a LONG list of friends and aquaintances who have volunteered to be one of my homework 'victims' and although I appreciate their willingness to help me out, I decided to start close to home and to give my first massages to my husband and 2 close friends.  But you know what?  Even that has me a little freaked out.  I have put off and procrastinated and I'm quickly running out of time to get my massages done in time.  I know these people will be very kind and understanding and non-judgmental and will be happy to receive any sort of massage, no matter how amateur, but I am still very, very nervous.

I suppose, just like in class, it's probably best not to think about it too much. I should just jump right in and do what I can.  I just hope that this gets easier, that with every massage I give I build a little bit more courage to make the next one easier.   

It's funny that before school started, I was mostly nervous about the academics.  Now I have found that there's more to be nervous about.  I guess I have a lot to learn this year, both about massage and about myself.

Congratulations to Me

It's official: I am a student!  Again.!  There are still a few loose ends to tie up (like paying tuition and signing up for electives) but today I completed the enrollment process and am now ready to start classes to become a massage therapist and holistic/energy healer. 

I am, for the most part, very excited.  Part of me is still a little freaked out by the prospect of having to use my brain after 12 years of dormancy (is that even a word?!) and the fact that I will have to learn science-type stuff (physiology, anatomy) but mostly, as I said, I am thrilled.

And I am very, very proud of myself.  This is proof that although the last year has been very difficult, I have grown and I am ready to set out and, well, grow some more.  I wouldn't have had the confidence to do this a few years ago, even if I had known what I wanted to do.  It's been a rocky road, but it seems to have led me in the right direction.

I also know that this is just a step, but it's a pretty big one.  There will be other steps - taken one at a time - and the road may continue to be rocky as I learn who I am, who I want to be and how I fit into the world around me, but for now I am enjoying this moment and all the happiness it has brought with it. 

So, raise a glass, my friends: it's time to celebrate!

Believe & Achieve

Tonight I'm stealing again.  If I knew the author, I would gladly give credit but as far as I know, it's anonymous.  I found this poem in my dance studio and thought I should share it:

If you want a thing bad enough
to go out and fight for it,
work day and night for it,
give up your time and peace and sleep for it;
If only desire of it makes you never tire of it
and life seems all empty and useless without it
and all that you scheme and dream is about it;
If gladly you'll sweat for it,
fret for it, plan for it,
lose all you terror of the opposition for it;
If you'll simply go after that thing that you want
with all you capacity,
strength and sagacity,
faith, hope and confidence and stern pertinacity;
If neither cold poverty, famished and gaunt,
nor sickness nor pain
of body or brain
can turn you away from the thing that you want;
If dogged and grim you besiege and beset it
You'll get it!

Quick Change Artist

It often amazes me how quickly things can change, how quickly my emotional state can change.  I'm not sure why this amazes me since I have been up & down and turned around so many times in the past few months that I should know that nothing ever stays the same for long.  Nonetheless, I am still amazed that only 2 days after my last abysmal post, I am pleased to report that I am chipper and cheery and just bursting with excitement.

Truth be known, there is also a little bit of fear mixed in with my excitement -- but as long as it's just a little bit, I can handle it.

I have not felt this positive and full of hope in a very, very long time and I intend to ride this wave for as long as I can.  The next couple of weeks promise to be very positive ones for me and I am so ready to end this summer on a high note.  It's been a rough couple of months and I although I never look forward to the end of summer, it seems the change of seasons will bring with it some changes for me that I have needed for a long time.

Finding Strength

I am an emotional wreck.  I experience just about every emotion in its fullest sense - every day.  I am exhausted and I am losing strength.  I have not felt this fragile in years, if ever.  Sometimes I wonder how I'm going to get through the day but somehow I always do.  Not always in the best shape, but I get through it.

Tonight I read something beautiful and inspiring.  I sat in the light of the moon, with the wind blowing over me and I meditated.  It was immensely restorative.

It also made me acutely aware that I need some time to myself to cleanse and recharge, and I need it to be soon.  If all goes well, it will be.  I'm pretty sure that if I have some time to focus on myself for a few days, I'll return a less fragile and more emotionally stable version of myself.  And then I can really focus on making my future a happy one.

First Steps

I've been thinking a lot about my future recently, which is something I haven't done in a long time.  It has become apparent that I am actually in charge of my own future and that it's up to me to make it what I want it to be.  I'm beginning to get a pretty good idea of what I want and now I need to work towards making it happen.

While I have many plans, today I chose to tackle the career path, since that really seems of foremost importance.  I also think that this will probably take a while, so best to get started on it as soon as I can.

Last Fall, I went to a very informative and interesting fair called "Holisticpalooza" and had a wonderful day learning all sorts of fabulous things like yoga, feng shui, meditative chanting, etc.  At the time, although I found the whole thing vastly enjoyable, I was not at a point where I could really appreciate the value of what I had stumbled upon.  Now I understand. 

The past few months have brought me to the conclusion that I need to embark upon a career in holistic healing and by following my instincts and listening to those who know me best, today I ended up back at the the website for the school that offered the Holisticpalooza.  It seems they offer classes in just about everything I want to do.  So I contacted them and have an appointment this week to go have a tour and talk to their admissions director.  I am simultaneously excited and frightened by this but I believe excitement will overpower the fear.  As it says on the school's website: “You don't have to see the whole staircase, just take the first step.” - Martin Luther King

And, after all, this is just the first step.  It may be a long journey, but I'll never get there if I don't start on the path.  I may also need some patience, as I won't get there overnight.  But I will get to where I want to be.

A Little Help From My Friends

I have spent a good portion of the last 4 days painting.  Not creative, artsy painting; just regular old house painting.  The unusual thing about this is that it wasn't at my house.  Rather, I was helping friends paint their daughter's room.  They are expecting an exchange student tomorrow and were under some time pressure to get the room painted before her arrival, which is why I volunteered to help.

I am a pretty good painter.  I have painted many rooms in many homes so when the topic arose, it seemed natural for me to offer my assistance, which was gladly accepted.  When I offered to help, I did it out of the old-fashioned goodness of my heart.  I didn't expect anything in return, other than the joy of helping out my friends by lessening both the work and the stress.  Which is why I was so surprised to find that I actually got so much more out of the last few days than I ever thought I might.

It turns out that painting is very therapeutic.  As we all know, there's a lot going on in my life and the last month and a half have been particularly topsy-turvy and emotionally challenging for me.  Painting allowed me some much needed alone time.  Obviously I was not entirely alone, as my friend was also in the room.  But we were in there without children, who also knew enough to only interrupt us if absolutely necessary.  Sometimes my friend and I talked: about relationships and things that really "mattered" and sometimes about other things that didn't matter quite so much.  Sometimes we didn't talk at all and I was able to be alone and muse over the torrent of thought constantly running through my head.  But sometimes - and this was best of all - I thought about nothing.

There were times when it was just me and the brush and my little cup of paint and that was all.  I was focused on the painting and nothing else.  There were no thoughts, no distractions, nothing.  Nothing.  And I loved every second of it.

Magic in the Air

There was a certain amount of magic in the air yesterday. Perhaps it blew in on the wind (Lord knows there was enough of it).  I can't explain it but that's the only reasonable explanation for the not one but two, dare I say, earth-shattering events which transpired over the course of the day. 

Our good friends have a family tradition in which they spend the day at the beach in honour of their eldest son's birthday.  This year, we were invited to join them.  The beach is on a lake at a state park not too far from where we live.  We had never been so we were all eager to go.  There is also a lake about a mile from our house, which is usually where we hang out in the summer.  It's a smaller lake with a very small "beach".  The beach at the state park was HUGE in comparison and the kids decided to take advantage of all the sand in which to take turns burying each other.  My son was the first to be buried -- right up to his neck.  The children thought this was fabulous & shouts of "I'm next!" ensued.  My daughter was buried next, followed by one of our friends' sons.  After each child was buried, with only their head stuck on top of a mound of sand, I was instructed to take a picture of the child and those children who did the work. 

Now, saying that my son has issues with having his picture taken would be an understatement.  He has been struggling with Situational Mutism (a childhood anxiety disorder) for the last 5 or 6 years and while he has made incredible strides, one of its last vestiges is an abhorrance to having his picture taken.  If I am not mistaken, it was actually his idea for me to take his picture while he was buried in sand.  If it was not his idea, he certainly made no complaints about it.  And really, as he was buried, there was nothing much he could do to stop my taking as many pictures of him as I wanted.   However, what really surprised me was a while later when I called all the children to gather together around his friend, who was currently buried, for a photo op, my son actually did what I asked.  He knelt down behind his friend together with the other children and was included in the picture.  The picture is one of those quintessential childhood photos that brings joy to the faces of those who look at it. This one will always bring a little bit more joy to my face, as I know how rare an opportunity it really was.

The second phenomenal act of the day was committed by yours truly.  I had spent the afternoon watching the children splash and swim in the lake.  The day was warm and the water was inviting.  I had the last shift on "lifeguard" duty and stood at the edge of the lake in a foot of water, envying the children their fun and longing to join them.  There was only one catch: this was a lake, which meant there was a very high probability that there would be fish in the water.  And I am terrified of fish (Yes, I agree it's an odd phobia, but there you have it).  So I stood at the water's edge having a very repetetive conversation with myself over the pros and cons of actually going into the water.  Add to that the fact that my son had already gone up against one of his big nemeses that day and I was beginning to think that I just might be able to do it.  Then I was told that it was time to call in the children as we were packing up to leave.  There it was: now or never.  So, I mustered up all my courage, took my daughter's hand and waded out into the lake (cursing under my breath all the way).  I finally made it out to where the other children were in waist-high water and decided that if I had gotten that far, I should go all the way -- under, that is.  So the children counted me in: 1, 2, 3! ... and I was still standing.  They had to count me in four or five times before I was finally able to take the plunge.  On the one hand, the water felt great and really refreshing, but it wasn't enough to keep me out there so I bee-lined for the shore.  It turned out I wasn't in the water for long and you couldn't even call what I'd done "swimming" but for me, it was an incredible feat.  I got high-fives and hugs and everyone was thrilled that I had made it into the water, most especially me.  (Of course, I then had to hang out in a wet bathing suit for the better part of an hour and by the time I got home, I had some serious willies about being covered in fish water for that long, but it still wasn't quite enough to bring me down.)

I can't speak for my son about what caused his lapse in camera-induced anxiety, and while I should be able to speak for myself about the lapse in my fish-induced anxiety, I simply can't.  I can guess that my son was just having such a good time with his friends that he forgot to be afraid.  Mine was a much more conscious decision to ignore the fear.  Yesterday it worked.  Next time it might not.  But at least now I know that if everything lines up in just the right way, we can get past those things that hold us back and every time we are able to do that, it makes us just a little bit stronger. 

The Rules

The Rules are changing.  Every relationship -regardless of its kind - has a set of rules.  These rules are slowly formed as the relationship builds and grows until eventually there they are and there they stay with everyone unaware of them and yet following them.  This works until something changes.

Right now, that something is me.  I am changing and growing and becoming a different Me than I have been for most of the course of my marriage.  As a result the Rules of my marriage and of my relationship with my husband are changing.  (I imagine the Rules with my children are changing, too, but as they themselves are constantly changing, that is to be expected in any case.)  I am not sure how my husband is going to accept these changes, as it means that he must also change and adapt to the new Rules and perhaps make his own new set of Rules. 

The road to self-discovery is not an easy one.  I am paving a new way for myself and my marriage.  It's difficult and it creates a lot of uncertainty but it will be worth it.  It is worth it. 

Making a List and Checking it Twice

I am not a maker of lists.  The only list I keep is for groceries, which is not so much for myself but so that the rest of my family can write down what they want me to purchase at the store.  However, I do have friends who keep lists and it seems to help them do any number of things from being more organized, more productive or simply just keeping track of their lives.  I think I should try making lists.

There are many I could make:

1. Things to Do Today
2. Things to Do In the Near Future
3. Things to Do Eventually
4. Things that Make me Happy (so I can refer to it and do more of those things)
5. Things that Make me Unhappy (so I can avoid those things)
6. Things I Would Like to Learn
7. Places I Would Like to Go

Oh, I could go on and on.  It's not really the making of lists that is the problem, but the part where I check them twice.  I tend to lose my lists, or at least forget about them once they are made, which really defeats the whole purpose of having a list since I never check anything off.

But maybe I'll give it another whirl and see if I can make it work this time.  Let's just say that a little more organization (of my thoughts if not my actions) and productivity would not be unwelcome around here.