LIMITATIONS

So...I found out today that another of my fur babies is on her way out. They found loads of tumors in her lungs. I can't stand to say any more about it now.
I pushed myself to do some reading and thinking in spite of that stuff.
Kerr Cuhulain said, "Never mind what you might have been (or not been) in the past. It is what you want to be that counts."
What do I want to be? Hmmm...
Overall, I want to be someone who makes a difference. I want to be the kind of person who makes everyone feel good about themselves. The sort of person who leaves people feeling better after encountering me than they felt before that. I want to be someone to whom others can turn when they are having trouble and need to reach out to a person who cares. I want to exude love and compassion so that people feel comforted just by being around me.

Kerr Cuhulain also said it was a good idea to be realistic about one's limitations and try to turn them into advantages. Dan Millman said that for every strength there is a weakness and for every weakness there is a strength. It would be interesting to discover the strengths connected to my weaknesses. It would be even more interesting to see how I can turn my limitations into advantages. I will have to explore this further. Definitely. I will give this some thought and come back to it again.

FINDING MY PACK

I didn't accomplish as much today as I had hoped. I had some pressing mundane tasks to deal with. I did, however, do some reading and thinking.

In Women Who Run With the Wolves by Clarissa Pinkola Estes, the author writes about people finding their packs. The people they belong with, that is. It seems I have been trying to find my pack all my life. I'm not at all sure anymore where to even look.

In her book, Estes says it is never a mistake to look for what one needs. She also says that if a woman can't find the culture that encourages her, it is a good idea for her to construct one herself. Estes maintains that if a woman builds such a culture, others who have also been searching will show up to be part of it.
But how can I do this? Where do I start?

A Little Background

It all started several weeks ago, when I made the bold decision to quit graduate school. I had taken 3 semesters as an Elementary Ed. major. The more classes I took, the more I hated it. I felt like I was taking classes I didn’t enjoy, in order to enter a field that is currently fraught with controversy and frustration for teachers and students alike. I began the program excited about the prospect of inspiring young children and making learning an adventure for them. But the more teachers and education students I talked to, the more I saw that education had become all about test scores, with little room for anything more. I had also seen many students graduate and be unable to find work, after months of trying. So, I switched to a Recreation Management major. One semester of that was enough for me. It was even less enjoyable than Education!

During that time, all I thought about was wanting to make a difference. Being in my 50s, I felt like I needed to get going on something worthwhile, rather than wasting time in a field that held no real interest for me. After lots of soul searching and plenty of conversations with the most supportive people in my life, I decided to quit grad school and pursue a second Bachelor’s degree in Philosophy.

Prior to this path altering decision, I had had many long conversations with my sister about ways to make a difference in the world around us. We both wanted to bring joy and relieve suffering in those whose paths we crossed. Neither of us knew where to begin. After weeks of talking, things had begun to take shape. (I will share more about that later) I made the decision to quit grad school and take a semester off in order to begin a journey of self-discovery that would improve my ability to help others.

I decided that I wanted to focus on at least a few specific things. First, I wanted to tap into the great love that lives within all of us, usually buried under a whole lot of scars, armor, and facades. Next, I wanted to work through issues that had been obstacles to my reaching out to others, namely the aforementioned scars, armor, and facades. Finally, I wanted to become more emotionally balanced, through mindfulness.

Let me just say that I have other issues that affect what I’m able to do. I have fibromyalgia, 4 herniated discs, ADD, and chronic fatigue syndrome. I deal with PTSD, chronic anxiety, and depression as well. Therefore, I figured the “sabbatical” would give me time to counter several years of deconditioning caused by debilitating fatigue and pain.

So, almost a month ago, I embarked on this journey with high hopes for good changes in my life. A few days later, things began to unravel….

Let me go back to some things I wrote down the night before I began my journey:

"I flipped my Celtic Mandala calendar to July and here's what it said in big letters:

WHEREVER YOU STAND, BE THE SOUL OF THAT PLACE.

Whoa! I just stood there staring at those words and blinking. I was stunned. That seemed to sum up the whole vision of wanting to help others. THAT's what I see when I think of a core group being somewhere where lots of people are . I want people to FEEL the love, the peace, the "freshness". Not so that we will appear important and wise to them, but so they can find some of what they seek in US and perhaps we can help them tap into those things within themselves. Then maybe they can do the same for others.

I have now decided NOT to go back to grad school. It no longer seems like an option. It would just be yet another bog to get stuck in for awhile on my way out of the woods.

After I made the decision about grad school, I was lying in bed thinking, "Hahaha! I have no plan!!!" It was rather freeing, kind of like the feeling of skinny dipping in a place where you feel safe. Delicious. Different. Pretty cool."

 This is what I wrote on July 1^st:

"It seems the key lies in not giving ourselves labels of any kind. We are all capable of kindness and selfishness, mindfulness and thoughtlessness, courage and cowardice, wisdom and foolishness, etc. No one is any of that ALL the time. We are human, in all our imperfection and all our glory. That's all. What more do we need?"

 "My relief and elation has predictably turned into terror. It's like I'm freefalling and I have no idea where the rip cord is. Of course, that probably means this is exactly where I need to be. But I'm feeling something approaching panic at the moment. What the hell am I doing?"

 On July 2^nd, when met with more anxiety, I wrote, “Listening to the quiet whir of the ceiling fan and the enthusiastic singing of the birds outside. In THIS moment, I am safe. I am fed. I am in a cool place with iced tea at my side. My cat sleeps 2 feet away. I’m OK. I am safe. I AM.”

 I spent the next few days feeling bummed, tired, and anxious. I had decided that if I really wanted to realize my objectives for my journey, I would have to make some changes, but I didn’t know how.

On July 5^th, Just after I got into bed, I received a phone call from my daughter. Through a torrent of tears, she told me she had come home to find her cat had died. This was no mere pet to her. She and this beautiful cat had been dear friends and close companions from elementary school through graduation from college. The cat had been fine the day before. Now she was gone. I felt so bad for my daughter…and sad about the cat. Only a true animal lover will understand. My daughter and her significant other brought the cat to our house to be buried, because my daughter wanted her friend to be “someplace pretty”. So, we buried her next to an antique rosebush in the backyard. That event shook me up pretty good. (Bad grammar, but you know what I mean.)

The next day, I received more hard news which I am not up to sharing right now. The following day, I got some MORE crushing news. I was on a downward spiral now. My PTSD was really triggered. Following are a few excerpts from those days.

July 8^th: “I can feel myself spiraling down. For the past 3 days, it’s been difficult to move or even breathe. I can’t seem to see past the ever deepening melancholy that threatens to consume me. Deep hurt. A gutted feeling. I’ve got to pull out of this and get back on track. Sinking to the depths will be no good for me or anyone else. I feel so nauseated.”

 July 10^th: “ While there are many things I “should” be doing, I’m not going to push myself to do a bunch of stuff. That’s not what this journey is about.

 On July 13^th, one of our cats was declared to be in critical condition due to liver failure. Two days later, we buried her next to my daughter’s cat in the yard.  By that time, I had pretty much turned into a basket case.

At this point, I should mention that part of the whole PTSD thing (for me at least) is having frequent thoughts about horrible things happening. Sometimes the thoughts are concerning people I love. Other times, they are just random images of bad things happening to people. While I don’t have these thoughts constantly, I have had them crop up pretty often for almost 30 years of my life. The events of those 10 days or so had those thoughts coming along much more frequently than usual. I was suddenly freaked out by thoughts of losing people and animals that I love. I had become almost immobilized by panic and despair. All at once, all I could see was a long parade of death and loss stretched out before me. All I could think was, “More to come. More to come. More to come.” Then, from somewhere deep inside me came a “voice”. I call it the “inner teacher.” It said, “Yes, dear…more to come. Grandkids, birthdays, holidays, glorious moments of sharing and connection. More to come. You don’t want to miss it!” I was blown away by that and I calmed down a bit.

The day after we lost the one cat, another of our cats began to have severe “attacks” wherein she would gasp for air. Her breathing became labored and she frequently breathed through her mouth, having loudly. The vet said there wasn’t much to be done, what with her being 14 years old. He gave her antibiotics and steroids and we took her home. We just couldn’t face another loss so soon after the others. She eats very heartily, loves to be petted, and still leaps off the couch to greet us when we come home. Because I had a very precious cat choke to death several years ago, I became terrified of being home alone with this cat and her having a fatal attack. I can’t bear the idea of watching another fur baby die while there’s nothing I can do.

It has been 17 days since that vet visit and the cat is hanging in there. Some journey of self-discovery! Yikes! Needless to say, my journey fell by the wayside amidst all these events. Paralyzing fear and sadness got hold of me and I didn’t know how to pull out of it. Finally, I walked into a mental health center and fell apart. The woman listened to me bawl my head off for a half hour. Then she told me I couldn’t really see someone until September 7^th! Oh brother! Then I saw the doc at the university health center. She prescribed 2 antidepressants and something for anxiety. I couldn’t afford one of the meds at all. I still haven’t decided whether to start taking the other antidepressant. It’s scary to me. I will decide about that soon. In the meantime, I’ve decided that I’m going to “start over” with the personal journey tomorrow. Only this time, I will be recording the journey here. Perhaps it will help or inspire someone out there at some point. I’ve decided to do this for 49 weeks…almost a year. You are invited to join me if you like. Thanks for reading all this. Tomorrow, I will begin my journey anew.

New Beginning

  It's been a VERY long time since I have posted here, but since I'm about to embark on a journey of self-discovery, I thought it was a good time to start up again. It's Friday night. On Monday, I will begin my journey. Perhaps there is someone out there who will benefit from my sharing the experience. I hope so. Until Monday....