This is the week my Monday writing group decided to not exchange work. Busy schedules, one person out of town, one using the time to catch up, me working both my regular stuff and some performance interpreting. Busy. Busy. Busy.
But with the two plays and the poetry work I'm doing, I also found I can't read fiction. This isn't a new discovery, but it is a new confirmation of this fact. When I'm interpreting a play, I'm working with that story, getting it and the characters and the production's presentation of those things in my head, in my body, on my hands. It's difficult to really focus on other stories when that one story (or two in this case) is primary.
Luckily, I've just discovered that I can read non-fiction. I can listen to audiobooks about writing, or other things. I find that my other listening habits change, as well. I don't really like listening to the radio - too much talking and extraneous noise. Sometimes usually favorite music CDs don't sit well, so I have to find something else.
These aren';t problems - just interesting facts to discover. What works while I'm in theatrical or performance mode and what doesn't.
I wonder where that fits for writing, as well. I know in the past that I've sometimes gotten particular artists associated with certain pieces of writing. Or found that particular types of music fueled some writing so I would line up those musicians' work when I sat down to write. Now all we have to do is collect our favorite songs on the digital device of our choice and we can add categories or whatever they're called in the particular brand of machine.
And when I'm not doing the writing, not working on feedback on other's writing, I think a lot about writing. Of course I am also listening to Stephen King read his book, "On Writing," about, well that's obvious - writing. So that's on the front line of my consciousness. But I have ideas and inspiration and want to write.
Yesterday I wanted to write a poem and the words were flowing - in my head. I was driving. On the freeway. And when I got to where I was going I had no time to make notes and some of it was gone anyway. But rather than get upset, I figure it will come back. If it was that good or that important, it will come back. And maybe the next version will be even better.
A week off. Ha! Of exchanging writing with my group - yes. Of reading or listening to fiction - yes. But not off from creativity nor performance interpreting nor regular work.
Just a slightly different pace.
And one punctuated by hobbling around on crutches. The update there is that my doctor said I could get off the crutches a week from the date of the injury and continue with the ice/rest/ace bandage care for an additional week. That's good news. The crutches really slow me down and are loud and make things awkward.
Though I'm really not even complaining about that. There is irony that the sprain and complications and crutches happened right now; right when I would have said - no, it's impossible, I could never slow down or be limited in action or movement during this time. No. But I am. It is. And I'm getting through. With a few adaptations. But I'm getting things done and "it's all good," as They say.
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Showing posts with label healing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label healing. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Friday, March 8, 2013
Grumble Grumble
In late 2011 I had "Saddle Pulmonary Emboli." That was scary, expensive, and launched me into many medical tests, second and third opinions, and, finally to acceptance that I have to be on Coumadin/Warfarin for the rest of my life. (If you weren't reading The Writing Vein at that time, I was hoping to get off the medication after 6 months, which is what the medical providers originally projected. Some of the blood work was checking hereditary factors and, voila, a genetic mutation was found. And that particular mutation is exactly the condition that Warfarin/Coumadin treats - this even according to a top Naturopathic Physician in this field; with my regular ND, the specialist ND, my regular MD, and a specialist MD all telling me I need to be on the medication, I gave up the quest to final alternatives; if alternatives were available for my particular set of mutant genes, the specialist ND would know - there were none.)
So, about seventeen months later and here we are. Two and a half months ago my INR (which measures the medication in my blood) was finally declared stable enough to go down to being only tested every six weeks. I'd been at four weeks for a while; but before that it ranged from weekly to biweekly.
On Thursday I sprained my knee. A simple and minor sprain. The sprain was not - is not - the problem. The problem? Internal bleeding in and around the knee joint caused by - yes, you can guess it - the Warfarin/Coumadin. It was (is) very painful. I couldn't walk earlier in the day on Thursday.
And for those who know: yes, indeed, I was scheduled to interpret a play that very same Thursday night. Which I did. I hobbled in on crutches and my team and I sat while interpreting; there was no way I would be able to stand for 2 1/4 hours to interpret the play.
After going to the doctor's office.
I met with a PA I'd never seen before (one plus about Kaiser, there is usually someone available to see you in the office if your regular provider is busy or out of the office). He was great. I felt immediately comfortable with him. And he did good work. He aspirated blood from around and in my knee, which was extremely painful. But there was some instant relief, so the pain was worth getting through.
Now we're waiting and hoping the internal bleeding doesn't return. He ordered xrays which cleared up once and for all that there is no break or fracture in the knee; good to have that confirmed.
Oh - and a bonus. I remember my mother telling me when I was a teenager that I had double knee caps in my right knee. Yeah, right. Well, guess what - I do! I saw it on the x-rays today. There is actually another name for it - but that is one common name. And when the provider listed some of the periodic symptoms this condition can cause, I was nodding my head with relief.
This is not a good time to be getting around very slowly on crutches. I am also scheduled to interpret poetry recitation competitions the next two weekends - which I will also do. And I have another play next Thursday. I am planning on being there for all of them. The poetry this weekend will obviously be from a seated position; the play next Thursday might unless my knee is recovered enough to make standing a viable option.
Okay - there it is - my grumble for today. A truly minor sprain and very painful drug-induced internal bleeding. On the mend and looking for patience with the crutches issue.
*
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Break Time
I am off work for a week. A whole week. No work.
Some of that time I will be in Seattle, with some very personable felines and reading, writing, relaxing.
Some of my time here will be spent getting acupuncture, a massage, a haircut.
Some of that time will be spent doing nothing. I hope. And writing. Reading. Relaxing. Yes, more of the same, whether at home or elsewhere.
And breathing. Gently. In. And out. And in.
.
Some of that time I will be in Seattle, with some very personable felines and reading, writing, relaxing.
Some of my time here will be spent getting acupuncture, a massage, a haircut.
Some of that time will be spent doing nothing. I hope. And writing. Reading. Relaxing. Yes, more of the same, whether at home or elsewhere.
And breathing. Gently. In. And out. And in.
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Spinach: The Culprit, Again?
.
My health situation continues. No, I mean, it's better but the cause has been unknown. But now there is a root cause; it's not the whole story but it's the foundation on which the other factors built themselves.
A few weeks ago my Kaiser MD told me that their blood specialist recommended that I stay on the medication for life, due to severity and family history; the family history which was unknown to me until my health incident last fall. But, being me, I didn't like that answer. I didn't (don't) want to be on this medication for life. So I consulted with my ND. Who referred me to another ND who is a cardiovascular pulmonary specialist, nationally and internationally recognized who, luckily for me, is local.
I went to the specialty clinic. Did an intake. They wanted to do several blood tests and three of them were originally suggested through Kaiser. So tests were done (Kaiser agreed to do the DNA tests and one other; I still have to pay for them, but at least it goes toward my deductible). And slowly, over the past week, I've gotten the various results.
Almost everything came back good/normal or negative. Except for one DNA genetic marker. Turns out I do have an inherited gene mutation. Great. And further news from the specialist ND, who has all of this research and experience in just this type of thing is that - tada - I do have to stay on this medication. This particular medication does specifically address this specific gene mutation.
Sigh. Okay. Both my MDs and the NDs agree. I'm still working on acceptance, but I will get there.
Meanwhile, I will be working with my regular ND and the specialist ND to support my body systems to minimize the negative effects of the medication and to address some of the other issues related to this condition which the western medication doesn't address. Which will probably alter the dose of the medication (in a good way in my opinion; the medication can still address the genetic mutation, the supplements can take care of other factors in this process).
Okay - now onto the spinach.
You know how people say that leafy greens are good for you? I'm not disagreeing that they are good for people. I totally support them. I like them. I eat them often. I really do - yum. But, first of all, another of my favorite greens is kale. Which, if you were reading me when this health incident happened last October-ish, you know that kale is on the list of things which interfere/influence this medication. Medical people used to say to avoid spinach and kale and those other nasty high vitamin K foods; now they say to eat them for their health benefits, but keep the amount steady so the dosage of the medication is stabilized.
And, see, leading up to the health incident, I was eating a lot of kale salad. And drinking freshly made juices with, yes, kale. And spinach salads. And brussel sprouts.
I still eat leafy greens every day, the darker the better. And have a baseline of leafy green intake so the medication doesn't fluctuate. There are other foods which affect it, so I have to keep a sense of how much garlic, green tea, red wine (any alcohol, really), tumeric, greens, etc. I consume.
One of the blood tests the clinic did was to check my blood iron levels. My level is normal, but very low normal. And there is no reason for it to be that low. Really. So, they want to get it up to about double where it is now.
But I eat a lot of spinach, I told the specialist. Come to find out, spinach has an ingredient in it which, in some people, can block the absorbtion of iron. And some people may need the animal protein bound iron for it to be absorbed. Which might coincide with my occasional craving and need for red meat (I go for the healthier elk or lean buffalo or grass-fed beef).
Spinach = friend or foe?
There's a story in here, I think. Characters to work with. Or something. Right now it's a big source of discussion and appointments and thinking for me. But, soon I hope, I can turn this new information and new experience into something in my writing. "The Case of the Rebel Spinach?" or "Learning to Bleed Well."
.
My health situation continues. No, I mean, it's better but the cause has been unknown. But now there is a root cause; it's not the whole story but it's the foundation on which the other factors built themselves.
A few weeks ago my Kaiser MD told me that their blood specialist recommended that I stay on the medication for life, due to severity and family history; the family history which was unknown to me until my health incident last fall. But, being me, I didn't like that answer. I didn't (don't) want to be on this medication for life. So I consulted with my ND. Who referred me to another ND who is a cardiovascular pulmonary specialist, nationally and internationally recognized who, luckily for me, is local.
I went to the specialty clinic. Did an intake. They wanted to do several blood tests and three of them were originally suggested through Kaiser. So tests were done (Kaiser agreed to do the DNA tests and one other; I still have to pay for them, but at least it goes toward my deductible). And slowly, over the past week, I've gotten the various results.
Almost everything came back good/normal or negative. Except for one DNA genetic marker. Turns out I do have an inherited gene mutation. Great. And further news from the specialist ND, who has all of this research and experience in just this type of thing is that - tada - I do have to stay on this medication. This particular medication does specifically address this specific gene mutation.
Sigh. Okay. Both my MDs and the NDs agree. I'm still working on acceptance, but I will get there.
Meanwhile, I will be working with my regular ND and the specialist ND to support my body systems to minimize the negative effects of the medication and to address some of the other issues related to this condition which the western medication doesn't address. Which will probably alter the dose of the medication (in a good way in my opinion; the medication can still address the genetic mutation, the supplements can take care of other factors in this process).
You know how people say that leafy greens are good for you? I'm not disagreeing that they are good for people. I totally support them. I like them. I eat them often. I really do - yum. But, first of all, another of my favorite greens is kale. Which, if you were reading me when this health incident happened last October-ish, you know that kale is on the list of things which interfere/influence this medication. Medical people used to say to avoid spinach and kale and those other nasty high vitamin K foods; now they say to eat them for their health benefits, but keep the amount steady so the dosage of the medication is stabilized.
And, see, leading up to the health incident, I was eating a lot of kale salad. And drinking freshly made juices with, yes, kale. And spinach salads. And brussel sprouts. One of the blood tests the clinic did was to check my blood iron levels. My level is normal, but very low normal. And there is no reason for it to be that low. Really. So, they want to get it up to about double where it is now.
But I eat a lot of spinach, I told the specialist. Come to find out, spinach has an ingredient in it which, in some people, can block the absorbtion of iron. And some people may need the animal protein bound iron for it to be absorbed. Which might coincide with my occasional craving and need for red meat (I go for the healthier elk or lean buffalo or grass-fed beef).
Spinach = friend or foe?
There's a story in here, I think. Characters to work with. Or something. Right now it's a big source of discussion and appointments and thinking for me. But, soon I hope, I can turn this new information and new experience into something in my writing. "The Case of the Rebel Spinach?" or "Learning to Bleed Well."
Monday, April 30, 2012
A Test of Wills or a Test of Faith
If this is a test, I'd like it to be done.
There are a few conflicting things happening in my life right now and I was getting a handle on things, having faith that things would work out for the best. Really, I was holding on to the belief that all would be okay.
I made out a scheduling/life template and believed in it; I just wrote it out the middle of last week. Then I found out some information which has the potential to disrupt everything. It's a row of dominoes. I was thinking maybe a house of cards, but the dominoes are stronger and can withstand more - so I'll go with the dominoes image. If X happens at VRS, then that has the potential to reduce $ by a significant amount. In order to improve the $ picture, I have to add more Y to the schedule. But if X is reduced and Y increased, it has to be exponentially increased because of some other losses which are attached to X. And if X and Y happen, then my template won't work. And if I try to stick to the template, then $ will definitely be decreased and some of the things on the template will be impossible.
Really. I'm not making this up.
Writing is on my template. More than I've been doing: dedicated, specified time to write and revise and submit.
Sleep is on my template. Enough sleep is an option with parameters. A couple of times when I've slipped below the minimum, I've known, my body has let me know that I can't do that any more. So sleep really is non-negotiable. No more 4- to 5-hour sleep nights.
Work is on my template. Yes, indeed.
And time off. Including trying to get two days off together in every week. Well, let's say most weeks. Which includes trying to get one day off each week where I don't have appointments to go to; not just time off from work. Time with friends and partner and time for fun. And activity: walking, swimming, hiking, kayaking.
This new news isn't good news. Not terrible; I'm not losing my job. But it's a really bad time and it's not just me saying "oh this is awful and I need to add more hours." It's real. And if the information turns out to be true, I should know within a week and I will have to give up: some time off, or blocks of dedicated writing time, or time with my partner, play time. I can't cut down the sleep or health care.
I had a plan. A good plan; reasonable. Reasonable for everyone and not just me.
And I think about people who wonder why workers lose faith and commitment to the giant corporations for which they work. This is one. There is no reciprocity and I keep thinking that I know that, but I keep getting taken by surprise. I keep thinking that being really good at what I do, going along with the numbers and the changing rules, being honest and dedicated to what I'm doing will matter; not in a kiss-up, brown-nosing kind of way but in a commitment to doing this job well. And maybe it does matter to the clients - I hope. But I keep feeling like I am just a number at work and a number which can be replaced.
I think about being flexible. I am flexible; I like some variety. Yes. But a good friend once said, "I'm flexible until I snap." I think of it like a plastic debit/credit card, or a piece of wire: you can bend it and bend it and bend it back again until one day it snaps; no more flexibility. I'm getting frustrated with the bending and won't snap - but I may lose some flexibility.
I want to hold on to the serenity I've found and believe in the good in people (and there are people behind the giant corporation walls, right?) and to hold on to hope that things can be okay without doing what isn't healthy for me.
Right?
So I'll just keep writing. Not just about this, I promise. But if I keep writing then it keeps moving through.
And I can retain my resiliency.
And if this rumor/threat comes into being, it may push me back up on that ledge where possibilities live and the corporation goes back to being the safety net and not a false sense of security.
Writing. Where life happens. Where the Chi flows and stagnancy is prevented.
And, for fun, a video as a reminder to myself and to others who may be living/working under similar circumstances. Enjoy!
There are a few conflicting things happening in my life right now and I was getting a handle on things, having faith that things would work out for the best. Really, I was holding on to the belief that all would be okay.
I made out a scheduling/life template and believed in it; I just wrote it out the middle of last week. Then I found out some information which has the potential to disrupt everything. It's a row of dominoes. I was thinking maybe a house of cards, but the dominoes are stronger and can withstand more - so I'll go with the dominoes image. If X happens at VRS, then that has the potential to reduce $ by a significant amount. In order to improve the $ picture, I have to add more Y to the schedule. But if X is reduced and Y increased, it has to be exponentially increased because of some other losses which are attached to X. And if X and Y happen, then my template won't work. And if I try to stick to the template, then $ will definitely be decreased and some of the things on the template will be impossible.
Really. I'm not making this up.
Writing is on my template. More than I've been doing: dedicated, specified time to write and revise and submit.
Sleep is on my template. Enough sleep is an option with parameters. A couple of times when I've slipped below the minimum, I've known, my body has let me know that I can't do that any more. So sleep really is non-negotiable. No more 4- to 5-hour sleep nights.
Work is on my template. Yes, indeed.
And time off. Including trying to get two days off together in every week. Well, let's say most weeks. Which includes trying to get one day off each week where I don't have appointments to go to; not just time off from work. Time with friends and partner and time for fun. And activity: walking, swimming, hiking, kayaking.
This new news isn't good news. Not terrible; I'm not losing my job. But it's a really bad time and it's not just me saying "oh this is awful and I need to add more hours." It's real. And if the information turns out to be true, I should know within a week and I will have to give up: some time off, or blocks of dedicated writing time, or time with my partner, play time. I can't cut down the sleep or health care.
I had a plan. A good plan; reasonable. Reasonable for everyone and not just me.
And I think about people who wonder why workers lose faith and commitment to the giant corporations for which they work. This is one. There is no reciprocity and I keep thinking that I know that, but I keep getting taken by surprise. I keep thinking that being really good at what I do, going along with the numbers and the changing rules, being honest and dedicated to what I'm doing will matter; not in a kiss-up, brown-nosing kind of way but in a commitment to doing this job well. And maybe it does matter to the clients - I hope. But I keep feeling like I am just a number at work and a number which can be replaced.
I think about being flexible. I am flexible; I like some variety. Yes. But a good friend once said, "I'm flexible until I snap." I think of it like a plastic debit/credit card, or a piece of wire: you can bend it and bend it and bend it back again until one day it snaps; no more flexibility. I'm getting frustrated with the bending and won't snap - but I may lose some flexibility.
I want to hold on to the serenity I've found and believe in the good in people (and there are people behind the giant corporation walls, right?) and to hold on to hope that things can be okay without doing what isn't healthy for me.
Right?
So I'll just keep writing. Not just about this, I promise. But if I keep writing then it keeps moving through.
And I can retain my resiliency.
And if this rumor/threat comes into being, it may push me back up on that ledge where possibilities live and the corporation goes back to being the safety net and not a false sense of security.
Writing. Where life happens. Where the Chi flows and stagnancy is prevented.
And, for fun, a video as a reminder to myself and to others who may be living/working under similar circumstances. Enjoy!
Monday, April 16, 2012
Prescription for Writers
Okay. So some people might think, huh? What is this?
I guess I shouldn't call it a prescription because I am in no way a medical provider. But the prescription comes from a medical provider.
One thing that I would say all writers have in common is that we do a lot of sitting. Maybe no more than the average person (whoever that may be, I know, the "average" person is a mythical standard we're all held to). But we do at least our fair share of sitting. Or most of us. I'd love to see some creative ways writers deal with the sitting.
Elevated desks. Hydraulic desks which can be raised and lowered as desired or needed, from sitting level to standing level to fit ball level to, whatever. Or voice to text software which lets you walk and write your novel at the same time.
But, in general, I'd say that writers sit a lot.
So - this video is for us. It's not just for writers, of course. Receptioninsts. bankers, tax accountants, telemarketers, video relay interpreters, and so on. For anyone who sits a lot, really.
I really like this video - in style, information presented, attitude, and method. Good information.
.
I guess I shouldn't call it a prescription because I am in no way a medical provider. But the prescription comes from a medical provider.
One thing that I would say all writers have in common is that we do a lot of sitting. Maybe no more than the average person (whoever that may be, I know, the "average" person is a mythical standard we're all held to). But we do at least our fair share of sitting. Or most of us. I'd love to see some creative ways writers deal with the sitting.
Elevated desks. Hydraulic desks which can be raised and lowered as desired or needed, from sitting level to standing level to fit ball level to, whatever. Or voice to text software which lets you walk and write your novel at the same time.
But, in general, I'd say that writers sit a lot.
So - this video is for us. It's not just for writers, of course. Receptioninsts. bankers, tax accountants, telemarketers, video relay interpreters, and so on. For anyone who sits a lot, really.
I really like this video - in style, information presented, attitude, and method. Good information.
.
Monday, February 20, 2012
Liquid Ideas
.
Today I swam at least a mile. I didn't count how many laps I did, but I know my average and I know how long I was in the pool (60 minutes) and I know that I stopped twice - once for stretching and once for stretching plus lunges. So it was around a mile.
And two things about today's swim are important. One is that I never hit that wall where I think I should stop, where my shoulders ache a little and my breathing is at a point where I question the need to stop, where I feel tired and like I can't do one more lap. I will say that I've learned the difference between that wall and the place where I really need to stop; I do know the difference. Today I stopped because I was hungry and needed to shower and do some writing before I went to work. And it was enough.
The second thing about today's swim that's important is that I realized that I really don't want a waterproof iPod or other mp3 player. I've considered it. But I've doing some of my energy/healing protocols while I swim - it makes for a nice and whole body integration. Those thoughts provide a nice rhythm and keep flow as I swim. Then just as important is that I've been generating a lot of ideas while I swim. Not so much ideas for stories - though I have picked up a couple of characters - but ideas in terms of publication, or writing workshops, for zines or anthologies.
When I'm swimming, I'm free of judgments, overall. The thoughts flow with the movement of my arms and my legs. The ideas meander into my brain and I turn them over and examine them and think, hm, maybe.
In the water I'm not checking my email, taking phone calls, getting text messages. I can't look up the significance of a phrase or a location or whatever path my web search leads me down. In the water my body is busy, gliding through the water, counting the strokes between breaths, feeling the shift in temperature as I pass the cold water inlet and later the heater, follow the line of tiles on the bottom of the pool, notice the ladder on my left which means I have one more stroke to the end of the pool.
In the water my thoughts soften and slow. And ideas can enter. Free of the technology, that energy used to monitor and respond and process, my mind can wander and dream and create new ideas. I'm not sure why more seems possible in the water while I'm swimming and I'm not questioning the process.
Water.
Swimming.
Writing.
Creating.
Healing.
Nice combination.
.
Today I swam at least a mile. I didn't count how many laps I did, but I know my average and I know how long I was in the pool (60 minutes) and I know that I stopped twice - once for stretching and once for stretching plus lunges. So it was around a mile.
And two things about today's swim are important. One is that I never hit that wall where I think I should stop, where my shoulders ache a little and my breathing is at a point where I question the need to stop, where I feel tired and like I can't do one more lap. I will say that I've learned the difference between that wall and the place where I really need to stop; I do know the difference. Today I stopped because I was hungry and needed to shower and do some writing before I went to work. And it was enough.
 |
| photograph of artwrok by Serena Barton |
When I'm swimming, I'm free of judgments, overall. The thoughts flow with the movement of my arms and my legs. The ideas meander into my brain and I turn them over and examine them and think, hm, maybe.
In the water I'm not checking my email, taking phone calls, getting text messages. I can't look up the significance of a phrase or a location or whatever path my web search leads me down. In the water my body is busy, gliding through the water, counting the strokes between breaths, feeling the shift in temperature as I pass the cold water inlet and later the heater, follow the line of tiles on the bottom of the pool, notice the ladder on my left which means I have one more stroke to the end of the pool.
In the water my thoughts soften and slow. And ideas can enter. Free of the technology, that energy used to monitor and respond and process, my mind can wander and dream and create new ideas. I'm not sure why more seems possible in the water while I'm swimming and I'm not questioning the process.
Water.
Swimming.
Writing.
Creating.
Healing.
Nice combination.
.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Music as Inspiration and Healer
From time to time I write something about music which inspires me - in that moment, over time, while I write or make art. If you've been following my writing for long you've seen Philip Glass appear more than once; a favorite of mine for many years and most circumstances. And I've been thinking about writing a short piece about music - but this is not that.
This is the first full song played on the radio this morning as I was waking up. There was the end of the song before it - which I don't recall at all: incomplete and the song which pulled me from sleep.
But this one. Perfect for today. Perfect for this moment. It resonates for me, in this period of transition and healing, at many levels, not only for myself, but friends, as well. Self healing, friends with physical condition flare-ups or new levels to adapt to, a friend caring for a dying parent, friends with difficult work situations - and more.
The song is "Come Healing" by Leonard Cohen, from his new album. Come healing, for each of us in the way appropriate and desired - yes.
It was a nice way to wake up.
This is listed as an "unofficial" music video. And if you'd like to see the lyrics, go to the YouTube link - they're all there.
... now, back to finishing typing up the two written assignments due today (one in Inga's Decerebralization online writing class and one in Ariel's Lit Star Training class), which will be followed by brunch with a friend, then doing a new free write for Inga and a quick write for Ariel and then - tada - work! ...
I hope you enjoy the song and that it touches each of you in some way.
*
This is the first full song played on the radio this morning as I was waking up. There was the end of the song before it - which I don't recall at all: incomplete and the song which pulled me from sleep.
But this one. Perfect for today. Perfect for this moment. It resonates for me, in this period of transition and healing, at many levels, not only for myself, but friends, as well. Self healing, friends with physical condition flare-ups or new levels to adapt to, a friend caring for a dying parent, friends with difficult work situations - and more.
The song is "Come Healing" by Leonard Cohen, from his new album. Come healing, for each of us in the way appropriate and desired - yes.
It was a nice way to wake up.
This is listed as an "unofficial" music video. And if you'd like to see the lyrics, go to the YouTube link - they're all there.
... now, back to finishing typing up the two written assignments due today (one in Inga's Decerebralization online writing class and one in Ariel's Lit Star Training class), which will be followed by brunch with a friend, then doing a new free write for Inga and a quick write for Ariel and then - tada - work! ...
I hope you enjoy the song and that it touches each of you in some way.
*
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Decerebralization - The Timing Couldn't Be Better
The online writing workshop with Inga Muscio, through Ariel Gore's Literary Kitchen, is about to begin. I'm excited to try something new. I will continue with Ariel and it will be lovely. And this timing is perfect for me to take on the challenge that will be Inga's assignments. I just wrote my introduction to the online classroom and will paste it below, rather than starting from scratch. It's taken me quite a while to get my introduction to say what I want it to say.
I will be continuing with the regular Lit Star Training - but was ready for a bit of "shaking up." And what better time than now, when other things have been altered. When I've reached a place in my personal growth of trying to be more subjective (and it is still "trying" at this point; sometimes I still grapple with what that even means - it is so far removed from how I grew up).
Here is the introduction to A Study in Decerebralization with Inga Muscio from the class announcement:
And my class intro:
.
I will be continuing with the regular Lit Star Training - but was ready for a bit of "shaking up." And what better time than now, when other things have been altered. When I've reached a place in my personal growth of trying to be more subjective (and it is still "trying" at this point; sometimes I still grapple with what that even means - it is so far removed from how I grew up).
Here is the introduction to A Study in Decerebralization with Inga Muscio from the class announcement:
"Thinking is nice. I think we can all agree that thinking is an important part of writing. To write from your heart, however, a lot of the thinking business has to be set aside. How to achieve this when everything we have learned about writing involves thinking? This thinking business also eventually gives you false expectations that you and your writing can probably never live up to.
For everyone who can churn out reportage, no problemo, but struggles with just letting go and belting out some genius from your heart and soul, for everyone with a mean-spirited bitch of an inner editor, for everyone with a so many truckloads of memories that you constantly set aside until they gridlock the byways of your heart, our Study in Decerebralization if for you. "
And my class intro:
I'm Dot and a regular in the regular Kitchen. And I just completed my first two-week intensive with Ariel. And in November completed writing my 4th consecutive NaNoWriMo 50k+ in 30 days. Meaning - I like challenges.
So I look at Inga's questions and as I paste them in here to respond to in a logical way I think: THAT. That is why I'm here.
I'm attracted to this class because I live in my head a lot and "decerebralization" resonated.
There are things in my life pulling me into my body, pulling me to live from the inside outward instead of being constrained by others' expectations or limitations or shoulds. A recent health issue challenged me to be more aware of my physical presence and simultaneously take more cerebral action in terms of test results, treatment options, monitoring certain foods and so on. So "decerebralizing" is what I need right now, what I want, as I practice living more subjectively.
I've been writing a lot - in spurts between interpreting plays or between regular interpreting jobs or after grading students' work and visits with practitioners. But when I look at my writing - when I look at Ariel's intensive and I look at NaNoWriMo - I have to admit that I write more and I write better when I write more frequently.
So, in an effort to write more often, which to me means taking time away from available freelance and part-time job working hours, I need to shake things up a bit. Reprioritize. Stop overthinking and write more. Let go. Belt it out, yes. Stop trying so hard to do the right thing or be nice or worry if it's enough/good enough/worthy of being read/blahblahblah. Write it. Yes.
That's my goal - to keep writing, write more, and try something new. I love Inga's books and there is a different energy from how I write and I want to try it.
One pasted-in question I will leave, as I need to respond directly *grin.* Are you a practical, logical thinking person [YES] who feels {deeply - I wouldn't say "deeply" exactly} challenged [oh, yeah, mostly positive, edgy challenge] by this class, or is it easy for you to throw caution to the wind [nope - almost never - but I want to be that person] and break free from social barriers [uh, no - not totally, though a little, sometimes *ahem*]?
...oh, and to have delirious fun writing ... I liked that in the description of the class and it was the second hook, right after "decerebralization"...
 |
| Grand Canyon 2010; photo JD Sampson |
Sunday, December 18, 2011
I Didn't Drown
That seems like an odd title for a post. But it's true.
Two events yesterday where there was the possibility of drowning.
One - as silly as this may seem - was that I went swimming for the first time since the medical incident at the beginning of October. Since the incident involved breathing issues, this was not a totally random or unrelated thought. When you add in the fact that I passed out due to overexertion in my at-that-time unknown medically compromised state, which cut off oxygen/blood supply and which is what finally got me to the hospital - the fear of drowning in the pool due to breathing issues was not out of the blue. A little paranoid, probably - I'm breathing much better - but I realized my fear and just made sure there was someone else in the pool. And to not push beyond what I could do.
Two - was a metaphorical drowning. As in being unable to write the Intensive writing assignment and work on today's regular Wayward assignment. And give Intensive feedback. But I did! And I even wrote extra and had to edit it down. And I wrote the beginning of something else for today's Intensive story - which went in a totally unexpected direction.
It was a good day. I think I've found a creative stride and I'm exploring where the difference came from. Two days ago I was totally blocked and no words would come.
Now look at me. Swimming in water and words and keeping afloat. And happy.
.
Two events yesterday where there was the possibility of drowning.
One - as silly as this may seem - was that I went swimming for the first time since the medical incident at the beginning of October. Since the incident involved breathing issues, this was not a totally random or unrelated thought. When you add in the fact that I passed out due to overexertion in my at-that-time unknown medically compromised state, which cut off oxygen/blood supply and which is what finally got me to the hospital - the fear of drowning in the pool due to breathing issues was not out of the blue. A little paranoid, probably - I'm breathing much better - but I realized my fear and just made sure there was someone else in the pool. And to not push beyond what I could do.
Two - was a metaphorical drowning. As in being unable to write the Intensive writing assignment and work on today's regular Wayward assignment. And give Intensive feedback. But I did! And I even wrote extra and had to edit it down. And I wrote the beginning of something else for today's Intensive story - which went in a totally unexpected direction.
It was a good day. I think I've found a creative stride and I'm exploring where the difference came from. Two days ago I was totally blocked and no words would come.
Now look at me. Swimming in water and words and keeping afloat. And happy.
.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Feeling Humbled By Recent Events
.
elated by the news that I am done with the injections
and can skip today's planned trip to the lab
for another blood draw
nod my head to the phone when the pro-time nurse tells me
today 4 pills, tomorrow 3 pills
then we'll see
no lab today but yes tomorrow
another call from my insurance/care-center needing
to schedule a test with a long intimidating name
the test requires
no prep
it's another examination in an attempt to determine
why I
an otherwise healthy person who was at low risk
for this event -
why
it happened
I don't want anything more to be wrong and
everything points to everything being fine
except
these two spots
on the CT exam
which stole my breath away
the doctors want to know why
I just want them to go away
I just want to return to
normal, my normal
breathing returns
energy is still lagging
stairs are so much easier
and each day I meditate with hand mudras
visualize
my body's terror when I couldn't breathe
washing away
breath
calm
spots dissolving or being absorbed; shrinking
recovering
grateful to be alive
grateful for this strong body and organs
which kept going and are
healing
grateful for my partner
my friends
my life
and sleep
which I think is my greatest healer
breath
strength
returning
.
a word
.
elated by the news that I am done with the injections
and can skip today's planned trip to the lab
for another blood draw
nod my head to the phone when the pro-time nurse tells me
today 4 pills, tomorrow 3 pills
then we'll see
no lab today but yes tomorrow
another call from my insurance/care-center needing
to schedule a test with a long intimidating name
the test requires
no prep
it's another examination in an attempt to determine
why I
an otherwise healthy person who was at low risk
for this event -
why
it happened
I don't want anything more to be wrong and
everything points to everything being fine
except
these two spots
on the CT exam
which stole my breath away
the doctors want to know why
I just want them to go away
I just want to return to
normal, my normal
breathing returns
energy is still lagging
stairs are so much easier
and each day I meditate with hand mudras
visualize
my body's terror when I couldn't breathe
washing away
breath
calm
spots dissolving or being absorbed; shrinking
recovering
grateful to be alive
grateful for this strong body and organs
which kept going and are
healing
grateful for my partner
my friends
my life
and sleep
which I think is my greatest healer
breath
strength
returning
.
a word
.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
My Word For Today
.
GRATITUDE
by Mary Oliver, West Wind: Poems and Prose Poems
Houghton Mifflin, Boston (1997), p. 35
I was walking the field,
in the fatness of spring
the field was flooded with water, water stained black,
black from the tissues of leaves, oak mostly, but also
beech, also
blueberry, bay.
Then the big hawk rose. In her eyes
I could see how thoroughly she
hated me. And there was her nest, like a round raft
with three white eggs in it, just
above the black water.
* * *
She floats away..................Halfway to my knees
climbs the invisible air..........in the black water
on her masculine wings........I look up
then glides back..................I cannot stop looking up
agitated responsible............how much time has passed
climbs again angry..............I can hardly see her now
does not look at me...........swinging in that blue blaze.
* * *
There are days when I rise from my desk desolate.
There are days when the field water and the slender grasses
......and the wild hawks
have it all over the rest of us
whether or not they make clear sense, ride the beautiful
long spine of grammar, whether or not they rhyme.
.
G r a t i t u d e
 |
| detail of silk painting by Dot. While searching on the internet for a graphic I discovered a spiral being used to symbolize Gratitude and remembered my own painting, with spirals. |
by Mary Oliver, West Wind: Poems and Prose Poems
Houghton Mifflin, Boston (1997), p. 35
I was walking the field,
in the fatness of spring
the field was flooded with water, water stained black,
black from the tissues of leaves, oak mostly, but also
beech, also
blueberry, bay.
Then the big hawk rose. In her eyes
I could see how thoroughly she
hated me. And there was her nest, like a round raft
with three white eggs in it, just
above the black water.
* * *
She floats away..................Halfway to my knees
climbs the invisible air..........in the black water
on her masculine wings........I look up
then glides back..................I cannot stop looking up
agitated responsible............how much time has passed
climbs again angry..............I can hardly see her now
does not look at me...........swinging in that blue blaze.
* * *
There are days when I rise from my desk desolate.
There are days when the field water and the slender grasses
......and the wild hawks
have it all over the rest of us
whether or not they make clear sense, ride the beautiful
long spine of grammar, whether or not they rhyme.
.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Returning to the Rest of My Life
Tomorrow I return to one of my part-time jobs. It's the first time back to work since being in the hospital last week. I've been following doctor's instructions, resting, not pushing myself. Checking in with my body and my breathing.
I had to cancel part of my work on Friday and set up an alternative venue for teaching. I can't navigate the campus, the standing, the movement between rooms, and the energy level of teaching. So I will be holding class via phone conference instead of in person.
I think tomorrow will be okay, as I'm sitting most of the time, except for breaks. And the breaks are necessary - my doctor suggests taking breaks every 30 minutes, since sitting a long time would be contraindicated for my condition. And standing? No, I can't do that for a long time, either; also contraindicated. So, the breaks I would take each hour, I will divide in half and take every 30 minutes.
These days, my life seems to be made up of scheduling time for medication, time for lab work, now time for breaks. Noticing how I feel - closely.
Time.
Time to step back into work life. And continue paying attention. To notice if I get tired, if my breathing changes, if I need a break.
Time. Rest. Return.
Writing. Reading. Thinking.
Breathing.
.
I had to cancel part of my work on Friday and set up an alternative venue for teaching. I can't navigate the campus, the standing, the movement between rooms, and the energy level of teaching. So I will be holding class via phone conference instead of in person.
I think tomorrow will be okay, as I'm sitting most of the time, except for breaks. And the breaks are necessary - my doctor suggests taking breaks every 30 minutes, since sitting a long time would be contraindicated for my condition. And standing? No, I can't do that for a long time, either; also contraindicated. So, the breaks I would take each hour, I will divide in half and take every 30 minutes.
These days, my life seems to be made up of scheduling time for medication, time for lab work, now time for breaks. Noticing how I feel - closely.
Time.
Time to step back into work life. And continue paying attention. To notice if I get tired, if my breathing changes, if I need a break.
Time. Rest. Return.
Writing. Reading. Thinking.
Breathing.
.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
A Time of Change and Wonder
.
My massage therapist, Cydney, moved away last week; she closed her practice the week before that. I've known for a month that she was leaving and was able to get one final visit with her in her last week. She was amazingly gifted, insightful, intuitive and had helped me so much over the years I'd been seeing her.
My previous massage therapist, Simone, who I'd been working with for a number of years - first as a colleague at the health care clinic, then as my massage therapist - committed suicide. She was also very sensitive and intuitive, but she didn't have the tools to protect herself and there are many details I don't know. She went through a tough time due to a mental health condition and took time off work. She went back to a small private practice and not too long afterward, she killed herself. It was traumatic for many in our community. Many questions, no answers.
I got a referral to Cydney from someone I trust; Cydney has been an amazing massage therapist/body worker. So, while the transition to a new LMT was unexpected and the circumstances were emotionally hard, all turned out well.
Cydney's reasons for leaving are vastly different - she is very much alive and thriving. And it was still unexpected and I wasn't ready to change. But she did give me some names of other massage therapists in the area, told me about how they work and gave me recommendations. She put a lot of time and thought into making good referral matches for her clients.
I talked to Cydney's top two referrals for me on the phone. I'd scheduled an appointment with the first person - but after I talked with the second LMT, it "felt right" - more right than the first person, whom I'm sure is skilled and would do good work (and was highly recommended by Cydney, too).
So the end of last week I went for the appointment with the new LMT, Daria, and - wow. Her work was amazing. I feel that she was definitely the right choice for me and all of my nervousness about starting over with someone new has dissipated. I think this new bodywork experience is going to take me into a new direction and a new relationship with my body. I would have happily continued with Cydney and am going to miss her - and this feels like a right and good transition.
And I also would like to tell Cydney "thank you," for allowing me the opportunity to heal from my transition to her by providing an opportunity to transition out to a new LMT in a healthy, thoughtful, and respectful way. I don't blame Simone - I know she suffered and she did a lot of good for a lot of people, she was very kind and loving and caring, almost too much so for her own good; but it was hard to lose her as a friend and provider. I didn't realize there was a little residue of the loss of Simone until Cydney told me she was moving away; now I feel I've had the opportunity to heal that residue.
I'm not exactly clear how this relates to writing at this moment - except that it is another life lesson. And don't all life lessons help the writers and artists and dancers and actors? Even the CEOs if they'll listen, and anyone with a creative bone in their body?
Maybe this lesson, for me, is about being open to change. That saying about one door closing is the opportunity to open a new door. I know that's my own spin on the words, but that's how it is for me. Because I have been locked in the old place, shut in the room feeling like there is no way out, worried that if XYZ falls apart/falls through/breaks down then my whole life-system will crash and I'll have nothing.
So maybe now is the time to take this example and say, okay. There are options. Even tragedy, like Simone's death, can lead to a new opportunity. And sadness, like Cydney leaving town, can turn out to be an opportunity for growth and change I didn't even know was possible or needed.
And I wonder about other opportunities - presented or not yet, taken or avoided, how a loss is actually an opening to something else.
I have an application in for a program (IPRC's printing & publishing for writers) and am waiting for an answer; the deadline isn't until July 30th - I applied early. I really want to do this program - and I have this amazing clarity that whatever their decision, it will be the right thing for me right now. Yes, I want it; yes, I'm hoping they accept me; yes, it would be absolutely great and there would be so many opportunities opened up because of this new knowledge and skill set. And, if the answer is "not now" - I will be okay and there will be reason.
.
My massage therapist, Cydney, moved away last week; she closed her practice the week before that. I've known for a month that she was leaving and was able to get one final visit with her in her last week. She was amazingly gifted, insightful, intuitive and had helped me so much over the years I'd been seeing her.
My previous massage therapist, Simone, who I'd been working with for a number of years - first as a colleague at the health care clinic, then as my massage therapist - committed suicide. She was also very sensitive and intuitive, but she didn't have the tools to protect herself and there are many details I don't know. She went through a tough time due to a mental health condition and took time off work. She went back to a small private practice and not too long afterward, she killed herself. It was traumatic for many in our community. Many questions, no answers.
I got a referral to Cydney from someone I trust; Cydney has been an amazing massage therapist/body worker. So, while the transition to a new LMT was unexpected and the circumstances were emotionally hard, all turned out well.
Cydney's reasons for leaving are vastly different - she is very much alive and thriving. And it was still unexpected and I wasn't ready to change. But she did give me some names of other massage therapists in the area, told me about how they work and gave me recommendations. She put a lot of time and thought into making good referral matches for her clients.
I talked to Cydney's top two referrals for me on the phone. I'd scheduled an appointment with the first person - but after I talked with the second LMT, it "felt right" - more right than the first person, whom I'm sure is skilled and would do good work (and was highly recommended by Cydney, too).
So the end of last week I went for the appointment with the new LMT, Daria, and - wow. Her work was amazing. I feel that she was definitely the right choice for me and all of my nervousness about starting over with someone new has dissipated. I think this new bodywork experience is going to take me into a new direction and a new relationship with my body. I would have happily continued with Cydney and am going to miss her - and this feels like a right and good transition.
And I also would like to tell Cydney "thank you," for allowing me the opportunity to heal from my transition to her by providing an opportunity to transition out to a new LMT in a healthy, thoughtful, and respectful way. I don't blame Simone - I know she suffered and she did a lot of good for a lot of people, she was very kind and loving and caring, almost too much so for her own good; but it was hard to lose her as a friend and provider. I didn't realize there was a little residue of the loss of Simone until Cydney told me she was moving away; now I feel I've had the opportunity to heal that residue.
I'm not exactly clear how this relates to writing at this moment - except that it is another life lesson. And don't all life lessons help the writers and artists and dancers and actors? Even the CEOs if they'll listen, and anyone with a creative bone in their body?
Maybe this lesson, for me, is about being open to change. That saying about one door closing is the opportunity to open a new door. I know that's my own spin on the words, but that's how it is for me. Because I have been locked in the old place, shut in the room feeling like there is no way out, worried that if XYZ falls apart/falls through/breaks down then my whole life-system will crash and I'll have nothing.
So maybe now is the time to take this example and say, okay. There are options. Even tragedy, like Simone's death, can lead to a new opportunity. And sadness, like Cydney leaving town, can turn out to be an opportunity for growth and change I didn't even know was possible or needed.
And I wonder about other opportunities - presented or not yet, taken or avoided, how a loss is actually an opening to something else.
I have an application in for a program (IPRC's printing & publishing for writers) and am waiting for an answer; the deadline isn't until July 30th - I applied early. I really want to do this program - and I have this amazing clarity that whatever their decision, it will be the right thing for me right now. Yes, I want it; yes, I'm hoping they accept me; yes, it would be absolutely great and there would be so many opportunities opened up because of this new knowledge and skill set. And, if the answer is "not now" - I will be okay and there will be reason.
.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Tonglen - or Tong Lin - for Healing
Pema Chodron has many teachings - I almost typed Buddhist teachings, because she is and the teachings are. But I believe her teachings are not just for Buddhists; and I think she would agree, but I can't be certain except in my heart. There are many books of her teachings and videos. She is wise and compassionate.
I have subscribed to an email list which sends out weekly excerpts of her teachings. Some of these I have in the books I own or have read elsewhere. And sometimes just the perfect teaching shows up in my email inbox.
Today as I searched for a video to post, I thought of her. One of the videos which came up was the one below - about Tonglen (the spelling I've usually seen - although here they spelled it Tong Lin). This is something I needed right now and I need to share this with my readers, too.
She explains what Tong Lin is for those who don't know and then you will do it. It's simple. It's powerful.
.
I have subscribed to an email list which sends out weekly excerpts of her teachings. Some of these I have in the books I own or have read elsewhere. And sometimes just the perfect teaching shows up in my email inbox.
Today as I searched for a video to post, I thought of her. One of the videos which came up was the one below - about Tonglen (the spelling I've usually seen - although here they spelled it Tong Lin). This is something I needed right now and I need to share this with my readers, too.
She explains what Tong Lin is for those who don't know and then you will do it. It's simple. It's powerful.
.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
People Drift In and Out and I Can't Control the Tide
I've written here about the ghosts I can't escape as I work on my memoir. The ghosts who appear in my life now are not necessarily the same ghosts who are in the memoir. Though some are. And the ghosts aren't all bad.
People come and people go and that is life. I know.
I write about real people and fictional people and people in between. People who fit the pop label of hybrid. Is he real or is he creative non-fiction?
And people who drop out of my life show up.
And people important to me, who've helped me get through positive changes, who've nurtured and supported and helped me heal ... well, they have lives, too. Sometimes they move on. And that is right.
And I have feelings about the change. I wish them well. I truly do. And I am grateful for the time we had together.
I found out today that I my massage therapist/Cranial Sacral provider is moving away in a month or so. She is an amazing healer and from what I heard she has an amazing opportunity in the new location. I wish her well and I appreciate the time I was able to have with her. She has incredible skills as a body worker and I learned so much from her, and she introduced me to PICA's T:BA and re-introduced me to my love and body-connection to dance. I can't say enough about what I feel I owe her and all of my gratitude for the years she's been there for me.
And, no, I don't want to start over with someone new. But I will trust her recommendation, as I trusted the person who recommended her to me.
And I will continue writing about my ghosts and their images, about what happened and what probably happened based on what I do know.
There are many types of gratitude. And I want to say thank you to some of the hard times for making me stronger, to the universe for getting me out alive and whole. And a big thank you to Cydney, as well as the other healers and healing partners who've been there for me over the years.
I'm glad I have another month with Cydney and an appointment next week. And I'll try to get in one more.
And I write. Remembering the past. Writing from the present. Finding healing and balance toward the future.
.
People come and people go and that is life. I know.
I write about real people and fictional people and people in between. People who fit the pop label of hybrid. Is he real or is he creative non-fiction?
And people who drop out of my life show up.
And people important to me, who've helped me get through positive changes, who've nurtured and supported and helped me heal ... well, they have lives, too. Sometimes they move on. And that is right.
And I have feelings about the change. I wish them well. I truly do. And I am grateful for the time we had together.
I found out today that I my massage therapist/Cranial Sacral provider is moving away in a month or so. She is an amazing healer and from what I heard she has an amazing opportunity in the new location. I wish her well and I appreciate the time I was able to have with her. She has incredible skills as a body worker and I learned so much from her, and she introduced me to PICA's T:BA and re-introduced me to my love and body-connection to dance. I can't say enough about what I feel I owe her and all of my gratitude for the years she's been there for me.
And, no, I don't want to start over with someone new. But I will trust her recommendation, as I trusted the person who recommended her to me.
And I will continue writing about my ghosts and their images, about what happened and what probably happened based on what I do know.
There are many types of gratitude. And I want to say thank you to some of the hard times for making me stronger, to the universe for getting me out alive and whole. And a big thank you to Cydney, as well as the other healers and healing partners who've been there for me over the years.
I'm glad I have another month with Cydney and an appointment next week. And I'll try to get in one more.
And I write. Remembering the past. Writing from the present. Finding healing and balance toward the future.
.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
National Breast Cancer Month
October is National Breast Cancer Month. There are many events, fundraisers, special happenings all around. One event is a Blanket Tour for Diana M. Raab’s new book, "Healing with Words: A Writer’s Cancer Journey". Over at The Muffin, WOW! Women On Words has this to say about Diana and her book:
I am honored to be one of the writers in this tour. Check back here on October 16th to read what I have to say; I'm hoping to be able to meet with a friend of mine who has already given me permission to talk about her story. She's been through breast cancer, the BRCA gene testing, and some big decisions as a result of the test; she's an inspiration and one of the shining lights in my life.
Here is one of Diana Raab's poems in her new book:
To My Daughters
by Diana M. Raab, MFA, RN
You were the first I thought of
when diagnosed with what
strikes one in eight women.
It was too soon to leave you,
but I thought it a good sign
that none of us were born
under its pestilent zodiac.
I stared at the stars and wished upon
each one that you¹d never wake up
as I did this morning to one real breast
and one fake one; but that the memories
you carry will be only sweet ones,
and then I remembered you had your
early traumas of being born too soon,
and losing a beloved grandpa too young
and then I had this urge to show you
the scars on the same breast
you cuddled as babies, but then wondered
why you¹d want to see my imperfections
and perhaps your destiny.
I caved in and showed you anyway,
hoping you¹d learn to be careful, as
if it really mattered, because your grandpa
used to say when your time¹s up, it¹s up.
May he always watch over you.
.
Diana’s latest book reflects her experiences battling breast cancer at age 47 and then multiple myeloma, a type of bone marrow cancer, when she was 52. The book is part practical advice(she is a nurse, after all) and part inspiration, which takes the form of poems, journal entries, and friendly thoughts. To show readers the effect of healing writing, Diana also includes blank sections and writing prompts so the reader can contribute their own thoughts and writings. Diana describes her daily journal writing as “a daily vitamin-healing, detoxifying and essential for optimal health.”Each day in October, a different writer has been selected to post something about breasts: cancer, surviving, and other related topics. Click on The Muffin link above to see the month's line-up.
I am honored to be one of the writers in this tour. Check back here on October 16th to read what I have to say; I'm hoping to be able to meet with a friend of mine who has already given me permission to talk about her story. She's been through breast cancer, the BRCA gene testing, and some big decisions as a result of the test; she's an inspiration and one of the shining lights in my life.
Here is one of Diana Raab's poems in her new book:
To My Daughters
by Diana M. Raab, MFA, RN
You were the first I thought of
when diagnosed with what
strikes one in eight women.
It was too soon to leave you,
but I thought it a good sign
that none of us were born
under its pestilent zodiac.
I stared at the stars and wished upon
each one that you¹d never wake up
as I did this morning to one real breast
and one fake one; but that the memories
you carry will be only sweet ones,
and then I remembered you had your
early traumas of being born too soon,
and losing a beloved grandpa too young
and then I had this urge to show you
the scars on the same breast
you cuddled as babies, but then wondered
why you¹d want to see my imperfections
and perhaps your destiny.
I caved in and showed you anyway,
hoping you¹d learn to be careful, as
if it really mattered, because your grandpa
used to say when your time¹s up, it¹s up.
May he always watch over you.
.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
"Women, Creativity, and Healing" with Serena Barton
If you are looking for a credit class for this summer, Serena Barton is teaching "Women, Creativity, and Healing" again through the Portland State University Women's Studies department. This class has been popular and there are still a few slots open. The class starts next week!
PSU Summer Class
Attention PSU Students!
....from Serena's blog...
PSU Summer Class
Attention PSU Students!
If any readers are currently PSU students, I'm looking for you! I am scheduled to teach my four credit class, "Women, Creativity, and Healing", this summer term on the main campus.
The class covers many women, famous and not-famous, who have used their creativity to heal themselves and their communities. You'll make an altered book, have spirited discussions, and explore your own creativity.
This is a great class to teach and to be part of. Feel free to contact me (Serena) with any questions. The class meets Tuesdays and Thursdays in Cramer Hall from 4:30-7.
Register online at the PSU website.
Monday, February 15, 2010
What do I Deserve? Razor's Edge response
Razor's Edge response from 2/12/10
The spoken word artist talks about what women deserve. I am a woman. What do I deserve?
If I woke up in the morning and I said to anyone who would listen that, today, I am going to play hookie. What would happen? Do I deserve a day of, as Emi Ha said, loafing?
What would happen if - for just one day - I was not responsible? If I said: this is My Day and I claim it as my own and I will be there for me, first. What would happen?
Sometimes I know I act as if I can hold up the world all by myself. Or at least this corner of the world where I dwell and work and love and don't sleep enough. I think that I can keep going and maybe I should just paint myself pink and attach a puffy bunny tail and carry around a big majorette's drum - just like the energizer bunny.
Only the bunny does run out. Sometime, s/he will. I know it. I know it keeps going and going and going. But one day. It will. Stop.
I don't want to stop.
But maybe I need to rest.
My body is telling me now that I need. To. Rest.
I have a little irritating rash that my body. Can't handle. It's stress induced. I've been told. And my adrenals are running on high although they are still following a circadian rhythm, which is good. I've been told. Or they're kind of stuck or vacuum locked - like my car the one day we had a few hours of snow and ice and I was stuck in traffic for 5 hours going about 5 to 10 MPH and then my car wouldn't get out of low gear. Except my adrenals are in the fight or flight mode. Still. Too much cortisol.
I don't want to get stuck in low gear.
So what do I deserve? What is it I need?
Sleep. Down time. Rest.
The supplements to help my body heal the rash make me tired. I was warned. Tired and a little cold- or flu-like. But not sick. Though the feelings are very similar.
Rest. "You may have to slow down to get over this," my Naturopath warned. And she may be right.
Rest.
What a beautiful four letter word.
The spoken word artist talks about what women deserve. I am a woman. What do I deserve?
If I woke up in the morning and I said to anyone who would listen that, today, I am going to play hookie. What would happen? Do I deserve a day of, as Emi Ha said, loafing?
What would happen if - for just one day - I was not responsible? If I said: this is My Day and I claim it as my own and I will be there for me, first. What would happen?
Sometimes I know I act as if I can hold up the world all by myself. Or at least this corner of the world where I dwell and work and love and don't sleep enough. I think that I can keep going and maybe I should just paint myself pink and attach a puffy bunny tail and carry around a big majorette's drum - just like the energizer bunny.
Only the bunny does run out. Sometime, s/he will. I know it. I know it keeps going and going and going. But one day. It will. Stop.
I don't want to stop.
But maybe I need to rest.
My body is telling me now that I need. To. Rest.
I have a little irritating rash that my body. Can't handle. It's stress induced. I've been told. And my adrenals are running on high although they are still following a circadian rhythm, which is good. I've been told. Or they're kind of stuck or vacuum locked - like my car the one day we had a few hours of snow and ice and I was stuck in traffic for 5 hours going about 5 to 10 MPH and then my car wouldn't get out of low gear. Except my adrenals are in the fight or flight mode. Still. Too much cortisol.
I don't want to get stuck in low gear.
So what do I deserve? What is it I need?
Sleep. Down time. Rest.
The supplements to help my body heal the rash make me tired. I was warned. Tired and a little cold- or flu-like. But not sick. Though the feelings are very similar.
Rest. "You may have to slow down to get over this," my Naturopath warned. And she may be right.
Rest.
What a beautiful four letter word.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
"Voices Against Violence" zine submission deadline extended
Great project still needs submissions.
The editors
have extended the deadline for the Voices Against Violence zine to Feb. 2nd. Here’s the original call out[inserted below]
What we’ve got so far has been great, but I’d like to see some responses and issues still not addressed and artwork.
Included topics can be: healing from trauma, transformative words used as a healing mechanism, enabling healing, life after trauma, self-help guides/resources, self-healing, dancing as means to healing, healing through narration, forgiveness (do we need it?), & collective trauma.
Here is the original call for submissions, which includes more information:
Voices Against Violence Zine is accepting submissions for our next issue. Please send in your essays, poetry, letters, personal accounts, artwork & photography to be included.
What is the Voices Against Violence Zine? A small zine-diy style, with work from people of color, indigenous folks, trans people & queer survivors of domestic violence, sexual violence and sexual assault. Included topics can be: healing from trauma, transformative words used as a healing mechanism, enabling healing, life after trauma, self-help guides/resources, self-healing, dancing as means to healing, healing through narration, forgiveness (do we need it?), & collective trauma.
Voices Against Violence zine is to be used as a community teaching tool, as a jump off for discussion and creative outlet and for conversations that need to happen.
Voices Against Violence is part of Café Revolución, with help from Philly’s Pissed. Check out their downloads.
Send submissions in English, Spanish, tex-mex, spanglish or any combination* via email, either in text in the body of the email or attached in .txt format to noemi.mtz (at) gmail dot com.
In the subject enter voices against violence submission. Include a brief bio, your mailing address, website if any. Mention your zine or any upcoming projects you’d like. If you prefer to remain anonymous, let me know or include a pen name. Email any photos, artwork as an attachment.
*translations would be cool but not necessary.
The editor, Noemi, of this zine is a skilled writer and all around awesome person I met through Ariel Gore online workshops. Submit if you have something and feel free to contact Noemi with any questions.
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