Spring Fever and Sunday Afternoons

I have a cold and Spring Fever. Not a good combination. It has me in a brain fog that does not bode well for writing or knitting. Everything I have needed to do this morning from making my bed and brushing my hair to folding laundry has had to be done mindfully and deliberately or it would need to be done again. Every room has a dwindling box of tissues and I have opened my bedroom window in order to feel a slight breeze and breathe the fresh air.

It is really too early for spring fever. Even though we in New Hampshire have had less snow than other parts of the country, there is still plenty of time for a couple more big snows. We have brown patches and dirty piles of ice but it is still too soon to hope for a quick mud season and an early spring. Being able to open windows and air out the apartment has been helpful in relieving some of the winter blues. I also had a plant blooming in my bedroom this morning. That encouraged some of the spring fever.

When I lived in Virginia we would have teaser days in January and February. These were days when it would warm up to 60 or 70 degrees and I could go for a walk in the Norfolk Botanical Gardens in shorts and a tee shirt. I would find a bench in the direct sunlight and let the sun bathe my body while I watched the ducks and geese prepare for the hatchlings that would soon be arriving. However, within a week of that teaser day there would be a bout of cold and icy weather that would be a reminder that it was too early to hope.

It almost seems the same way here in New England this year. We are getting teaser days where the breeze carries the scent of fresh grass or deep brown dirt that has been overturned for a garden. The breeze feels like a “come on” when the calendar says there is still a month until the Vernal Equinox and another two months until the scent of lilacs fills the New Hampshire air. The thought of May and June are what get me through the winters here. New England gardeners must have deep green thumbs. Their gardens come alive in May and June and the view of country gardens against stone walls can be breath taking. Spring – hurry!!!

Having been under the weather for most of the winter has not helped my mood either. I feel as if there is a large piece missing in my self care plan and that is walking. These cold winds do not bode well for me when I have an upper respiratory infection so I just stick to yoga and hope for warmer days and gentle breezes.

I am doing fairly well on my New Year plan for health and wellness. As long as I feel fairly well I am able to do my yoga and I have taken some short walks in the past couple of weeks. I am still avoiding meat. I woke up this morning to a craving for grapefruit and was glad that I had bought a couple of sweet red ones this past Friday. Chocolate cravings hit hard on some days but there are other days when I will realize that I haven’t had chocolate at all and haven’t looked for it. If I don’t have it in the house I will very rarely go out especially to get chocolate. I find it funny, though, that I can check out a full cart of healthy fruits and veggies and still need to buy three Lindor truffles at the checkout line. I seek out the line that has the truffles even when I know I could go through a line that does not have the candy. However, I feel that having had the ability to move past the cookie and chips aisles and the ice cream freezers, the three little Lindor truffles are my reward for a job well done.

Sunday afternoon, however, is when all resistance flies out the window. It is my time for fun and decadence in the form of my knitting group and a large chocolate triple trio or javanilla shake at the bookstore where we meet for two hours. This is where I get my laughter and chocolate therapy once a week. This weekly gathering of women has convinced me that when my ancestors went to stay in the menstrual hut with other women that they did so gladly and with a skip in their step. The men must have wondered why there was so much laughter coming from the place to which they had been banished. I wonder if some woman overstayed their time or if they even lied about how often they were having their period. The joy of being with other women sharing stories of joy and pain can be a healing force that I doubt men can experience in their sports bars and locker rooms. We are very blessed that we have these opportunities and the depth to be able to share our lives in such a way while creating beautiful knitted items. It is a feast of chocolate, laughter and wool on a cold afternoon that helps keep the winter blues at bay.

Making Choices

I am starting to really believe that it is all about choices. This week was full of choices all along the way. In the spirit of being mindful and being nonjudgmental I won’t rate those choices. I have tendency to say I failed in an area or that I did really well. Let it suffice to say that I practiced yoga more days than not, ate at the computer more meals than not, ate less chocolate than I was tempted to, and listened to my body more often than not.
My body and I have been working on our relationship for the past year. I realized that for the first fifty-something years of my life that I had pretty much lived as if my body were an accessory. I now am realizing that I need to take care of it and it tells me what it needs. Last night I was very tired and found myself drifting off earlier than usual so I turned off the light and must have fallen asleep within minutes. I slept for eleven hours straight and woke stiff and sore. A part of me thought that I should take a break from the yoga. However, my body ushered me to the yoga mat and after a few good postures and movement my body was soon aligning itself back up again. Left to my own thinking process I would have blamed the previous days of yoga for the stiffness instead of realizing that sleeping hard for eleven hours could have caused some of the morning stiffness.

I learned this week that the best time to go grocery shopping is right before my Thursday night yoga class. I eat a late lunch on Thursdays so that my stomach is empty for class but I am not ravenously hungry. I am already feeling virtuous about going to the class so shopping for healthy foods is easier. I need to adjust my budget, though. Whereas I used to be able to go for days eating nothing but tomato soup and Cheetos I now need to fill the cart with good organic veggies, tofu, fish and whole grains. As most people already know, it is not economical to eat healthier.
I am also learning that what a lot of research says about yoga and other movement is true. It releases a lot of chemicals in the brain and contributes to a sense of well-being. With the healthier diet and the yoga I have had fewer moments of darkness of mood and been able to enjoy life a little better. Plus, with the mindfulness and working to be non-judgmental I am less concerned about judging my moods as bad or good. I am learning that if I don’t judge my mood as bad, then it doesn’t get worse.
I moved a little out of my comfort zone this week, too. I had bought myself a ticket to see YoYo Ma with the Boston Symphony and was anxious about driving in Boston by myself. I studied the maps and directions until I found the most direct route and left with plenty of time to spare. It went very smoothly and it was definitely worth the trip and the angst about the driving in Boston.
YoYo Ma is a magical presence. After the orchestra played its first piece he came appeared from the right side of the stage, smiling and almost bouncing as he moved across the stage to the conductor’s stand. Unfortunately I did not have the best seat in the house and was unable to actually see him play. However, that did not take away from the magic of hearing him play live. During the Haydn Cello Concerto #1 there is a period where the orchestra stops and it is just the cello. I don’t think anyone let out a breath for a full four minutes as we listened in awe to the music. It was a spiritual moment. I have never been in an audience that managed to stay so still for so long. After the standing ovations and bows he came back out on stage again and played an unplanned solo in honor of a friend who had died over the week. Again, it was breathtaking.
At that point it was 9:14 and I knew I had gotten more than what I had paid for and made the choice to leave at intermission, avoid the concert traffic and head back north. I knew that if I stayed I would not get home until after midnight and probably would not sleep well.
I guess that I am becoming more open to opportunities to take care of myself, too. I have been drawn to information about area Buddhist Sanghas and books and blogs have come my way to enhance my journey. One of my favorite blogs about depression is Beyond Blue on Beliefnet. I am going to add a few of my favorite sites to this blog so readers can check them if they wish. I am also reading Dark Nights of the Soul by Thomas Moore. I am thinking of writing a blog post about what I have learned about depression over the past year. More to come.

The Mindful Cowgirl

The next step on this journey towards a healthier me is mindfulness. I approach each day as a to-do list, always living in the next step rather than the one I am currently taking. It is time to slow it down a bit.
Mindful eating is the first key. I eat 2-3 meals a day while sitting at the computer. Up until I stopped eating those McDonald’s biscuits every morning I was eating 1-2 meals a day in the car. My dining table is more of a repository of the day’s mail and my tote bag than it is a place to sit and enjoy a mindful meal. I watched my cat, Boo, this morning. She is a perfect example of mindful eating. She focuses completely on her dish of salmon and gravy with only an occasional turn of her head to make sure that I am not going to step on her tail. When she is done, she cleans her face and paws and goes over to the patio window to check out the birds and squirrels in the trees. She does not insist that I move her dish over to the window so she can be entertained while she dines. She eats first. I realize you may think she does not have the ability to tell me that she wants her dish moved, but, believe me, she made it quite clear this morning that she was not going to let me brush her anymore unless I used the brush she nudged with her nose rather than the one I had in my hand. She is one smart cat and I plan to learn a lot from her.
Mindful eating consists of removing any distractions and focusing completely on the food. Each mouthful is to be chewed until it is completely soft and almost liquid. It is not to be washed down with water, soda, or coffee. Water and other liquids tend to dilute the enzymes needed for good digestion. Therefore, it is best to drink a glass of water 15-30 minutes before eating and then another glass 15-20 minutes after. Putting lemon in the water is a good idea and it is also good to drink it warm or hot. Another key is to put the spoon or fork down between each bite and not pick it up again until the food has been completely chewed and swallowed.
DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD THIS IS????? This morning I got up and did yoga first thing as it has been suggested that yoga be done on an empty stomach. By the time I had breakfast made I was ready to gobble it down. I sat down at the table and started to eat. I wasn’t perfect, but more about the nonjudgmental stance later. I wasn’t always conscious of putting the fork down or chewing thoroughly. However, I found that I felt full faster and did not eat all that was on my plate. If I had been at the computer I would been in auto mode and it all would have been gone before I knew I was full.
The hardest part of this is staying in the moment. Without the distraction of the computer, my to-do list was running through my brain. Brush Boo, clean litter box, vacuum, wipe down the kitchen, fold laundry. My mind was running amok and raising havoc with my mindful eating. What do I do then? I bring myself to the moment and try very hard not to judge myself for having diverged from the plan. If judgment becomes a big part of this journey I will judge myself as a failure before a week is out.
As I was doing yoga this morning I was able to spend some time being mindful of the sensations in my body. I could tune into discomfort, make adjustments, listen to my body and move on to another pose that would release any tension. Occasionally my mind would go back to the to-do list and or to writing this post in my head. Working mindfully, I was able to bring my attention back to my body. I am in this current state of health because I did not listen to my body and it is time to honor all it has done for me by being mindful of its needs. It needs me to pay attention.
I have not always been mindful of my body’s needs. One of the reason my health has gotten to this point is that I took it for granted. I have always been a large woman but it hasn’t really slowed me down until the last two years. I was always able to still do a lot of physical activities that other people of my size would have found too strenuous. Unfortunately, it was like driving a car very hard for a lot of miles without attending to the regular maintenance. I am worn out and I can’t trade myself in for a new model. This is what I have and I need to listen to what it needs in order to help it last for the rest of the trip.
The next challenge is to apply this all to the work day. The hardest part will be the adjustment to my morning routine of eating my breakfast at the computer (or in the car). I plan to eat lunch away from my desk and without distractions. And when I do reach for a piece of chocolate, I will eat it slowly and mindfully.

The Language of Middle Aged Women

Have you overheard the conversations between middle aged women lately?
There is a specific lack of names.
“Did you see that movie with what’s her name, you know, the one from that other movie about that girl who fall in love with that actor, you know, the guy who used to be on that television show that our kids watched Friday night?”
“Yes, I know her, she is the one with the hair, you know, she was in those commercials and then she stopped making movies for a while because she had to go, you know , where was that again – the place people go when they can’t stop drinking?”
“Yes, what is her name again? I can see her face and her name is on the tip of my tongue.”
“Oh, don’t worry. It will come back and I know who you mean. I just saw her on t.v. the other day on that talk show. You know the one – the one with the short blonde - oh, what is her name? – she has a bunch of kids and she used to be on a soap opera and she is married to that gorgeous guy. What was his name again?”
“Yeah, her!!!”
“Well, it has been nice talking to you. I have to go pick up my son at the airport.”
“Which one?”
“Manchester.”
“No! Which son?”
“Oh, you know, the one that went down south this past year to work where that thing happened last fall.”
“Oh, yeah, say hi to him for me.”

A Winter's Friendship

There are times when circumstance and people come together in a way that hindsight finds a true blessing. It may be that a common thread seems to be a thorn in the side, but instead turns out to be the first stitch that pieces together a friendship.
In the early spring of 2007, I moved into an old farmhouse in a village in the hills of southwest New Hampshire. It seemed perfect. It was spacious with two large fireplaces and a sun room that looked out on the gardens. There was a small studio sized apartment in the basement and a young woman, Kristen, was living there temporarily while waiting for the weather to warm up so that she could move out into the woods for the summer. Darcy, a nurse, lived upstairs with her two cats, Teddy and Dipstick. Teddy, a large yellow cat, and, Dipstick, a gray tiger with white at the end of her tail, could be heard on many occasions running from one end of the apartment to the other, sounding as if they were bowling over the old pine floors.
I started experiencing difficulties with the landlady early on and soon realized that the property was poorly managed and that repairs were usually done with spit and duct tape, if done at all. If the building was up to code it was probably a code devised pre-electricity. The landlady was also experiencing a deep depression and as the year went on it was becoming increasingly evident that she was not able to manage the property. Her family wanted her to sell, but she refused. This house had been in her family for years and she was reluctant to sell so soon after her mother’s death.
Kristen moved to the woods in May, living in a small campsite at the edge of a pond. She would stop by to see Darcy and I at least once a week and tell us stories of visits from beavers, bear and deer. She had informed the village police and neighbors that she was there and had permission from our landlady to live on the property. In exchange for the site, she was responsible for the mowing and raking on the grounds around the house.
It took a few months for us all to come to together and talk about the difficulties we were having with the landlady, but once the ice was broken we realized that we were each experiencing the same struggles and were not alone in feeling as if there was something very wrong. We agreed to compare notes on conversations because we were often being given different answers to the same questions. We also realized that we needed each other’s support in trying to navigate living in a place where the landlady had few boundaries and made management decisions on a whim.
Unfortunately, the two cats that I had with me when I moved into the apartment had started to act up and behaving very poorly. After weeks of struggling to change their behaviors I realized that I was not going to be able to live there peacefully unless I gave them up. I was determined to fulfill my promise of living there for a full year and I realized that even if I did move, the cats’ behavior would continue and would make finding another place difficult. It was a difficult decision and I mourned their loss.
Shortly before I left for a trip to Tibet in late August the landlady left her home in the barn. It was a few months before she returned to manage the property but she never moved back. Some of the difficulties continued but they were lessened by her absence.
As summer turned cooler and the days became shorter, we started to relax. Kristen would come to Darcy’s apartment and make dinner now and then and one night she invited us to her campsite. We met her at the end of the path with our flashlights and she guided us through the woods, along the edge of the pond and pointed out which rocks to step on to make our way over a stream. Her campsite was wonderful. Everything had been set up to make the least impact on the environment as possible. As we sat around the fire drinking hot apple cider we heard beavers slapping their tails on the surface of the pond. I had hoped to see one of the bears that had visited the campsite previously but our laughter must have warned him away. As Darcy and I walked back to the house, we agreed that it had been a beautiful night.
On still Monday nights we could hear the sound of fiddles coming from the town hall up the road. Kristen would put on a skirt and go contra dancing. I went with her once but found the packed room and the kicking legs more than I could take. However, during the evening I saw Kristen dance with a man and I was struck by the intensity of the energy between them. It was as if they had lit sparklers while they touched.
A few weeks later Kristen talked about the man she had met at the dance and how she couldn’t get him out of her mind. I knew immediately which man she talking about. I encouraged her to make some sort of move but she was unsure.
In early October, Darcy and I started to question how much longer Kristen was going to live in the woods. I was also wondering if I could afford to heat the drafty 250 years old farm house. I had an extra bedroom and I invited Kristen to spend the winter with me, rather than moving back into the cellar. She agreed and as winter moved into New Hampshire the three of us settled into semi-communal living.
It was magical. Kristen was teaching part time and was trying to decide what the next step in her life was going to be. Her biological clock was booming and she had just come out of a bad relationship. I had concerns about the agency I was working for and had just ended a short, but intense relationship. Darcy was still mourning the loss of her last relationship, but was starting to enjoy her freedom. As I look back, we were all just coming to a point of change and it was our friendship that gave us the space and freedom to relax and ease into the next phase of our lives.
Darcy and I nurtured Kristen like an adult daughter and Kristen returned the favor with her joy and desire to feed the people she loves. I would often come home to fresh muffins and chili. There were many nights when Darcy would come down with a magnificent salad of greens, pine nuts, raisins, orange slices, and whatever else she could find and we would sit down to a wonderful home cooked meal and warm bread. Some evenings Darcy would bring a couple of movies and we would sit in the living room, wrapped in comforters and afghans watching a movie. Darcy would do needlework, I would be knitting and Kristen was always working on some project for her pre-school or college aged students. By this time, I had started fostering Mia, the cat the landlady had left behind. Mia would move from one lap to another or come over to play with my yarn.
There were also nights when Bella would come to visit. Bella was Kristen’s and her ex-boyfriend’s Swiss Mountain dog. She would visit for days at a time, much to Mia’s chagrin, and her boisterous love filled the house. I loved to hear her tail hitting the cupboards as she expressed her joy at my homecoming each day.
On New Year’s Eve, Kristen danced with the man from the past summer again. They ended up going to a walk in the snow and then came home and talked until the early hours of the morning. Darcy and I watched as Kristen started to fall in love and began to let go of the hurt of her previous relationship. We knew that Kristen was very serious when she invited her new man over for dinner.
Darcy and I took our roles as surrogate mothers very seriously and spent the evening getting to know this man who was making Kristen happy. She was still struggling with what her future would bring but she was falling in love and trying very hard to live in the moment.
Life moved on and our magical winter had to come to an end. I was feeling like I really needed to move as I had spent a year there and did not think I could afford it much longer. I was very fortunate to find a house sharing situation at reduced rent just before the agency I worked for cut our pay. Kristen stayed in the apartment for another month.
Kristen continued to go to Darcy’s now and then to fix dinner and I drive on over to enjoy whatever delicious meal she serves. It was at one of these meals shortly after Christmas this year that Kristen announced that she was pregnant. It was wonderful news all around. We were ecstatic for her.
A few weeks ago we all met for dinner again and talked about where we had been and what changes had occurred. I was getting ready to move to Concord to be near an exciting new job, Darcy had just put an offer on a condo (she knew she couldn’t spend another winter in an apartment that had a furnace that shot flames out the back whenever it turned o, leaving Dipstick with singed whiskers) and Kristen was glowing from her pregnancy. We laughed as Teddy sat on a stool and hung his legs over the edge in sort of a downward cat yoga pose and we ate asparagus pizza and reminisced.
I know that with all of the changes in our lives that our time together will be less frequent but I don’t think we will ever lose the friendship that grew out of our time on the farm in Nelson. Yesterday, at Kristen’s shower, Darcy and I stood in a circle with Kristen’s friends and family, blessing her and this child. As I stood there I recalled the intensity of emotion that I felt between Kristen and her future partner as they danced on that summer night almost two years ago. A small inner voice told me that it had been the spirit of the child she now carries, urging them forward, asking them to become parents. I know that this child will be born into a life of love because I know that Kristen draws love to her in special ways.
The life quilt of friendship that was sewn together during that time in the farmhouse, through that cold winter, continues. We are each on our different paths but make sure to meet at the crossroads for tea and muffins.