A very dear friend of mine who I haven't been in touch with much for the last year or two let me know her cancer was back. This was after she let me blab about my back surgery and how I was feeling. Seriously?!
OK, I know my surgery was a big deal to me (and by the way, I'm A-Okay ... no pain down my leg and very minor pain at the incision site). But cancer just trumps all.
Me: So how are you?
Her: Well, I have some bad news ... my cancer is back.
Me: Stunned silence. And then FUCK!
Honestly I listened though really I was just kind of sick to my stomach. Sick for so many reasons. Sad about the state of our friendship ... guilt that it took my blog for us to start reconnecting. Shame of my own self-obsession this past year. "Oh, poor me ... Angel is worried she's going to get fat. Angel feels old. Angel is bored and needs a job to get out of herself. blah, blah, blah."
I've been down that road and it's not helpful or useful. I know that. I know I can't compare my own inner demons to others' suffering. And I know I'm not perfect ... I'm human and I'm on this journey to live better, to be nicer to myself and my body. Even in this short time frame I've grown some. I really am looking at food more as fuel and how I can put the very best in my body to make it move and do all the things I want it to do. How I like wearing pretty clothes to my new job because I want to honor the work I've put into my body and I don't have to feel narcissistic because I want to look good ... at any age. I'm not ready to "give up" ... whatever that means ... and honestly, I hope I never will.
But when I hear that someone I love is dealing with f^#king cancer, well, it reminds me what's important, and how I want to focus on what is important. Love, friendship, being a good parent (which quite honestly hasn't been that easy this past week with a hormonal teenager who is pushing all of my buttons!), noticing nature, giggling, sharing my heart even when it's embarrassing or painful. In short, I want to live a rich, full life and the truth is I have one. Sometimes my vision is just a little murky.
But right now my heart hurts for all the friends I have who have experienced cancer, either as victim or as a family member or close friend of someone suffering from some form of cancer. I'm not kidding ... in the past year or two, I can name at least four very close friends who all have dealt with cancer. Young, vibrant beautiful women. The gratitude is in watching them go through it and get to the other side with grace, humor, tears and fortitude. I am in awe of you, and pray that my latest friend knows she is not alone, and my heart is with her.
Friday, May 16, 2014
Thursday, May 8, 2014
Tomorrow is the Day ... and Happy Pre-Mom's Day!
So tomorrow at o'dark thirty (that's 5:30 a.m.) I head to the hospital for surgery. I went to Virginia Hospital this morning to get some final blood work done and an EKG; and they already checked me in for surgery tomorrow ... weird! I'm already wearing my hospital bracelet and everything. I look like one of those dorks who keeps stuff on to show where they've been or what they've done so you ask about it. You know the type ... the person who has 80 day passes on their ski jacket from all the resorts they went to over the last 20+ years. DORK! (I think that's my new favorite word ... it's so retro :-)
Anyway, I'm seriously sick of talking about myself and my FEELINGS ... so here's two funny things I wanted to share with you. The first is a hilarious post Timmy sent me because he knows I love slapstick (or essentially anything involving anyone getting hurt, including myself) so here's the link:
This Is How The Human Face Reacts To Getting Hit By A 90-MPH Fastball (PHOTOS)
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/
The second is a really cool Mother's Day post my friend Sheri sent me (see below). Even though my little man is 14 (almost 15 years old -- gasp!), I still remember every single thing this author talks about. Hope you enjoy it too. Much love to you all. Angel.
Dude. You're glowing.
The agony.
PUSH.
“Here you go. Good luck figuring this out.”
Like a version of solitary confinement where the prison guards force you
to continually read “The Cat in the Hat” at gunpoint.
Hang in there.
Anyway, I'm seriously sick of talking about myself and my FEELINGS ... so here's two funny things I wanted to share with you. The first is a hilarious post Timmy sent me because he knows I love slapstick (or essentially anything involving anyone getting hurt, including myself) so here's the link:
This Is How The Human Face Reacts To Getting Hit By A 90-MPH Fastball (PHOTOS)
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/
The second is a really cool Mother's Day post my friend Sheri sent me (see below). Even though my little man is 14 (almost 15 years old -- gasp!), I still remember every single thing this author talks about. Hope you enjoy it too. Much love to you all. Angel.
What I Would Actually Like for Mother's Day
I
have something I would like for Mother’s Day. Most holidays my husband
doesn’t buy me gifts because there is nothing I particularly want or
need, but he has always said if there’s
something I really want, to let him know. He is wonderful. I would like
to say up front that he is one of the best human beings I have ever
met.
And
I feel bad even asking for this for Mother’s Day because it’s going to
be really difficult—maybe impossible to pull off. It is not flowers and
it is in no way a stuffed animal holding
a mylar balloon (if someone wants to send me a quick e-mail explaining
why those even exist, please go ahead) and it is not some sort of
quasi-expensive chocolate. It is not a gift certificate for a spa
treatment and it is not breakfast in bed. I am trying
to get out of the habit of eating in bed.
What
I want for Mother’s Day is going to hurt my husband, who I love and
care about a lot, so it hurts me that it will hurt him, but I want it
regardless.
1. I
would like for my husband to become pregnant.
Dude. You're glowing.
And let me clarify: not for a long period of time.
Absolutely not for nine months because that is the stupidest thing I’ve
ever heard—nobody should have to be pregnant for nine
months. That should be written into the Geneva Convention. But for a
week or so I would love for him to have an abbreviated, montage-version
of a pregnancy—a mash-up of the first and third trimesters in which he
is constantly nauseous and exhausted and WHAT
IS GOING ON WITH THESE MOOD SWINGS, no, never mind, everything’s fine,
false alarm, NO SERIOUSLY, THERE THEY ARE AGAIN, WHY
IS THIS HAPPENING??
I would like his back to hurt to the point where there is not a single
position in which he is comfortable and for him to get to the point
where the idea of
walking two blocks is more exhausting than, under normal circumstances, the reality of running ten miles.
2. I
would like him to experience labor.
The agony.
FOR
ABSOLUTELY NO LONGER THAN TEN MINUTES. I’m not a mustachioed
totalitarian dictator, I just want him to understand it. Within a ten
minute period I’d like him to experience three
or four one-minute-long contractions, but I want them to be the ones at
the end of the labor—the ones that are two minutes apart, where you are
either sobbing or screaming because there is nothing that could have
prepared you for that amount of pain. The ones
that are so horrible and all-encompassing that when people ask later,
“What was it like?” you stand there with your jaw hanging open because
unless the person has been systematically tortured while also undergoing
an un-anesthetized root canal, they are not
going to have a workable frame of reference.
3. I
would like him to experience 10 seconds of physically pushing a child out of your body when you have not had an epidural.
PUSH.
Honestly, maybe not even ten seconds. I just want him to get the gist of it.
4. I
would like him to experience a very brief
time period sampling the first few weeks (months?) of what your body feels like right after you have given birth.
“Here you go. Good luck figuring this out.”
I
want him to understand how it feels when you are emerging from the
hospital after what feels like a horrible, debilitating train accident.
And you are in both pain and a mild state
of shock and also the doctors are going, “Hey, hope you’re feeling
better after that horrific train accident and also here’s an extremely
delicate yet demanding human being for whom you are now responsible,
regardless of the fact that you’re in so much pain
that looking at a bicycle seat gives you a panic attack.”
I
want him to breastfeed the baby and deal with the ridiculous insanity
of pumping and leaking and horrific soreness or I want him to be not
that great at it and wonder what’s wrong
with him that he’s not enjoying it the way all the books told him he
would. OR I want him to choose to not breastfeed the baby and have total
strangers come up to him, telling him that he is a terrible father for
not breastfeeding the baby.
I want him to have at least one instance where he urinates on himself while sneezing.
5. I want him to stay at home with the baby full-time for one full month.
Like a version of solitary confinement where the prison guards force you
to continually read “The Cat in the Hat” at gunpoint.
This
is a polite way of saying I want him to be COMPLETELY OVERCOME BY
UNIMAGINABLE BOREDOM AND LONELINESS. I want him to be overwhelmed by a
loneliness so intense that he regularly
wishes he were an Iroquois indian because after four weeks alone in an
apartment with an eight month-old, living in a communal longhouse with a
bunch of other adults sounds more appealing than an invite to the Vanity
Fair party.
* * *
And
what will I be doing during as he endures the pain of this incredibly
elaborate mother’s day gift? Will I be sitting in a leather recliner
eating beef jerky and corn chips, going,
“Ok, so now do you get it?? Do you finally understand?”
No, of course I will not be doing that.
I will be beside him the whole time.
If during his pregnancy he wakes up at 3AM
and says that he is so so sorry to ask but he really wants Taco Bell, I
will go out and get him Taco bell. I will hold his hand during labor,
grimacing, because it will be hard to see someone I love in that much
pain. I will try, when I can, to get the baby when he cries at night so
that my husband can get a few extra hours of sleep. When I get home from
work and see that he is frustrated and exhausted
and has had a really rough day, I will take the baby off his hands. I
will do whatever I can to make it a little easier for him.
Hang in there.
I will do for him all the things that he has done for me.
Which is why, for the record, I conjured up this extremely complicated, probably-impossible-to-
Partially
because there is a part of me that wishes that he could fully,
completely understand what I went through. It is hard (maybe
impossible?) to fully understand something you
have not experienced.
But
partially because being married to someone who, despite his lack of
understanding, did everything he could to make my life a little bit
easier, I can’t come up with anything else
I could possibly want.
Monday, May 5, 2014
Day 16 - 20ish ... I'm Getting Lazy But I'm Not Quitting!
Well, I don't want to post if I have nothing to say, and I'm not
really sure I have something to say today, except I went to get my chest x-ray
this morning (another pre-op test I've had to get for my upcoming surgery) and
so the fear is getting a little bigger as Friday nears.
I saw a friend of mine this morning who
just happens to be a nurse at Virginia Hospital Center, and who has worked with
the doctor who is doing my surgery. It's been two years since she worked with
my doctor but I got the impression he wouldn't necessarily be her first choice.
She said his specialty is actually some sort of brain surgery, and the other
two doctors who he works with in his practice are pros at the particular
surgery I'm having (and in fact, one of them was recommended to me but I would
have had to wait 3-4 months for an appointment to see him so I went with my
doctor instead).
My fear is that my impatience (which I
have in abundance) may have caused me to not pick the best doctor, or that as a
punishment for being impatient; I will have some kind of accident happen during
surgery to "teach me a lesson." This is OLD stuff that comes up for
me. It's that "punishing God" I was brought up with ... the one
where, you make a mistake, break one of the 10 commandments, and of course God
will seek justice/punish you.
I DO NOT believe in a God like that today. (And I swear this
is not a religious thing ... I mean God in terms of a higher power or whatever
you choose to believe in, or even nothing at all – everyone has their own
path.) When I got into recovery, one of the greatest gifts was learning to rely
on and to believe in a higher power of my choosing. I chose a higher power that
loved me unconditionally, that wanted what was best for me, that didn't judge,
but also didn't interfere (good or bad) in my life or others. I felt like I
could accept life, and all the awful things that sometimes occur – cancer,
senseless acts of violence, children being hurt, etc. – if I no longer believed
in a God that was a puppet master "healing this one because he/she was
good, but letting this one suffer because he/she needed to learn a
lesson." I also struggled with the Jesus concept I had been brought up
with ... the one that says you won't go to heaven if you don't accept Jesus as
your eternal savior, etc. I kept thinking to myself, what about those
individuals on some remote island who have never heard of Jesus? Are they not
going to be allowed into heaven, despite living a good life, simply because
they were never taught about Jesus? That just seemed wrong to me.
Again, I'm not getting into a religious
debate here. I'm simply sharing my journey in finding a God I personally could
believe in.
I realized, for me, my own humanness was
my undoing. I was determining what actions were good and which were
"sinful", when in reality, I have NO CLUE what God thinks or doesn't
think (or even if God thinks at all). So I mostly stopped judging my actions
and just tried to live as best as I could. I tried (and continue to try) to
follow that book, “All I Really Need To
Know I Learned in Kindergarten.” If you haven’t read it, it’s wonderful, if
you don’t feel like it, no big deal. In short, it really boils down to treating
others how you would like to be treated.
So I’m not sure why this fear is coming up today.
Won't you join me in being a human being today too? :-)
Thursday, May 1, 2014
Day 14, 15, 16 -- Crazy Town Meets Perspective
I've been in a little bit of a funk. Nothing even nearing depression or anything like that. Just kind of blah.
And, I think I know what it is ...
It's called LIFE.
Imagine that, not every day is perfect, not every day is GRAND CANYON worthy. Some days are just ho-hum.
Well, there's a bit more to it than that for me (because I like to complicate things), but I must say writing this blog is giving me an unexpected gift ... time to to reflect and gain perspective. I realized as I was writing this that I'm having that let-down period from coming back from an amazing vacation and from being out of my routine (I am a serious creature of habit and even good things that mess up my routine, like vacations, can make me feel uncomfortable for a bit). Plus as soon as I did get home from the Grand Canyon, Tim left for a business trip to California so I've been doing the working/single mom thing. Again, nothing a million other women haven't dealt with, but it's just good to remind myself that oh yea, there is a reason why I'm feeling a bit tired, a bit blah, a bit, less than. This is all normal!
There is also a bit of fear lurking in the background too. I had a pre-surgery call with the hospital yesterday telling me I will be staying the night next Friday. What? My doctor told me this was an in-and-out surgery. Oh, and I have to get all these pre-tests, blood work, EKG, chest x-ray, etc., done THIS WEEK or my surgery will be cancelled so I've been scrambling to get these appointments in while working, while taking care of Ben, while trying to exercise ...
I called my surgeon's office and the woman told me that I should be prepared to spend the night but I may not have to -- it depends on how the surgery goes. She said it's a two-three hour surgery and that I will not be able to do ANYTHING for four to six weeks. Yikes! This leads to my fear of getting FAT. Fear of the surgery? Fear of being paralyzed if the doctor makes a mistake? Nope. I'm worried about getting fat and being miserable because I can't exercise.
My mind is CRAZY.
But at least I'm getting it out by writing about it, and by talking about it. Right? The important thing, as my sponsor pointed out to me today, is that I don't have to act on these feelings. I can feel them, acknowledge them, and then let them go, and do the next right thing. I might want to indulge in the feelings a little longer than necessary (by former sponsor called that mental masturbation ... I like that term), but really that's what this whole "I love me" experiment is all about. I get to CHOOSE the messages I tell myself, and when crazy town hits my head, and let's face it, I live in crazy town, I can choose to go a different route and cut that path right off.
It's slow going. I want instant progress and results.
What I am getting is perspective.
Thank you, thank you for taking this journey with me. Your emails and thoughts are helping and teaching me much. I love myself, and I love you!
And, I think I know what it is ...
It's called LIFE.
Imagine that, not every day is perfect, not every day is GRAND CANYON worthy. Some days are just ho-hum.
Well, there's a bit more to it than that for me (because I like to complicate things), but I must say writing this blog is giving me an unexpected gift ... time to to reflect and gain perspective. I realized as I was writing this that I'm having that let-down period from coming back from an amazing vacation and from being out of my routine (I am a serious creature of habit and even good things that mess up my routine, like vacations, can make me feel uncomfortable for a bit). Plus as soon as I did get home from the Grand Canyon, Tim left for a business trip to California so I've been doing the working/single mom thing. Again, nothing a million other women haven't dealt with, but it's just good to remind myself that oh yea, there is a reason why I'm feeling a bit tired, a bit blah, a bit, less than. This is all normal!
There is also a bit of fear lurking in the background too. I had a pre-surgery call with the hospital yesterday telling me I will be staying the night next Friday. What? My doctor told me this was an in-and-out surgery. Oh, and I have to get all these pre-tests, blood work, EKG, chest x-ray, etc., done THIS WEEK or my surgery will be cancelled so I've been scrambling to get these appointments in while working, while taking care of Ben, while trying to exercise ...
I called my surgeon's office and the woman told me that I should be prepared to spend the night but I may not have to -- it depends on how the surgery goes. She said it's a two-three hour surgery and that I will not be able to do ANYTHING for four to six weeks. Yikes! This leads to my fear of getting FAT. Fear of the surgery? Fear of being paralyzed if the doctor makes a mistake? Nope. I'm worried about getting fat and being miserable because I can't exercise.
My mind is CRAZY.
But at least I'm getting it out by writing about it, and by talking about it. Right? The important thing, as my sponsor pointed out to me today, is that I don't have to act on these feelings. I can feel them, acknowledge them, and then let them go, and do the next right thing. I might want to indulge in the feelings a little longer than necessary (by former sponsor called that mental masturbation ... I like that term), but really that's what this whole "I love me" experiment is all about. I get to CHOOSE the messages I tell myself, and when crazy town hits my head, and let's face it, I live in crazy town, I can choose to go a different route and cut that path right off.
It's slow going. I want instant progress and results.
What I am getting is perspective.
Thank you, thank you for taking this journey with me. Your emails and thoughts are helping and teaching me much. I love myself, and I love you!
Monday, April 28, 2014
Day 13 - I Love You Guys (I mean gals!)
It was hard to hit the send button yesterday. Honestly, I wasn't in an overly sad or melancholy place ... I was just "feeling," which I hate to do, unless I'm HAPPY.
I think it was also hard because I shared some embarrassing stuff; you know the stuff about the romance novels, the stuff about having such an obsessive/compulsive mind. I want to "appear" together (I want to feel together too but mostly I know feeling embarrassed is about being worried how others -- you -- will judge me).
But alas that's when the magic happens. I open myself up to the universe and what do I get back? Lots and lots of love and affirmation. A few comments that tickled me and warmed my heart:
I think it was also hard because I shared some embarrassing stuff; you know the stuff about the romance novels, the stuff about having such an obsessive/compulsive mind. I want to "appear" together (I want to feel together too but mostly I know feeling embarrassed is about being worried how others -- you -- will judge me).
But alas that's when the magic happens. I open myself up to the universe and what do I get back? Lots and lots of love and affirmation. A few comments that tickled me and warmed my heart:
- "Keep it up and don't stop before the miracle happens."
- "I'm proud of you for sharing it and proud that you are tackling it head on. And its ok to have a day that you take a break from being brave and strong :) Just get up the next day stronger."
- "It's easy for a person from the outside to say that you have so many things, about you, that are awesome. This is your journey to believe this is true."
- "And girrrrlllllll I would've never ever thought you were 47." (This person said a bunch of other cool, nice stuff but being the egomaniac I am, that was my favorite line :-)
- "Even the hard days are inspiring! Sending love."
- "I keep reading, my friend. Hang in there."
- "I wanted to suggest that when those negative comments enter your head, try to honor them with love and then gently let them go, instead of berating yourself for feeling them and for not being "better." The negative self-talk was developed early in life as a defense mechanism, maybe to keep you from expecting better thoughts and love from other people. (I don't know, or else I'm full of shit.) Anyway, they no longer serve you now, so maybe try gently thanking them for help in the past and telling yourself/your younger self who "needs" the negative self talk, that it's no longer necessary."
- Do not quit!!!!! I know you aren't doing this to get accolades or atta boys, but it is important for all of those "I love myselfs" to be followed up with a few "we love you's" from the important people in your life."
Sunday, April 27, 2014
Day 12 - I Want To Quit ...
I'm driving to my meeting tonight, and I think to myself, I've been meditating in the morning and telling myself over and over that I love myself, but I don't feel any different. This isn't working!
I want to read my romance/erotic novels. (I've decided to cut myself off from these books for the 30 days as well.) My new bestie from my trip, Stacey, was reading one while we were at the Canyon. (I put "bestie" in there for you Lauren ... just to piss you off -- tee hee.) I, of course, knew the book she was reading, and had read the whole trilogy, among every other book she mentioned.
What was interesting to me was that she would read some, but had no trouble whatsoever stopping to have a conversation with me, or others, or to do something else. When I'm into one of these books, I don't want to do anything else but read until I've devoured the book. I want to be the women (I mean girls) in these novels. I want someone to be possessive of me, and I want every other woman to want the man I'm with, but somehow Mr. Perfect chooses me, and will do anything to have me. I can't tell you how hard it is for me to write that because in my mind, that sounds so pathetic. I'm a 47-year-old woman, and I'm pining after a 22-year-old's make-believe life. But I love these books ... seriously. The writing often sucks, the story is pretty much always the same and I can't get enough of them.
I know so many of you, who are NOT addicts, will say what's wrong with reading romance novels? And in reality, there's nothing wrong with it. Just like there's nothing wrong with drinking alcohol ... and I mean that. There is nothing wrong with drinking. Many people can drink socially, can take it or leave it. I CAN'T. When I become obsessive about something, I need to let it go ... at least for a little while until it no longer has that "I-want-to-escape-from-my-life hold." Unlike alcohol, which I can never drink again, I can sometimes go back to activities that I used to be obsessed with, but 12 days probably isn't enough, and especially if I feel about these books like they are crack!
Ah, Angel, 12 days and I want to be fixed and done with this experiment. I'm such an addict. If I don't feel well (i.e. perfect, high on life, nothing should be wrong) then I immediately want to escape, to not feel, to do anything but the next right thing.
I still am so thrilled I went to the Grand Canyon, but now it's over. I've got nothing to look forward to, nothing to fret and worry about, nothing to focus on, but me and my normal, boring old life, oh and my surgery May 9, which clearly isn't as exciting as a trip.
My mind tells me writing this blog is stupid. I'm a quitter (see Day 2) so what am I trying to prove? Everyone probably gets annoyed when I send them an email saying I've written another post. This is what I hear in my head: "God, she's an egomaniac. I've told her I liked it now stop sending me emails. I'll read it if I want to. What more could she possibly have to say? Why did she think I'd be interested in this anyway? Thank God there's no sign up button so I can just delete her emails when I get them. Okay, enough about loving yourself ... I get it, now go away."
Harsh huh? That's me, which is why I'm doing this experiment in the first place. I try to say the mantra, I love myself, to cut off those thoughts, but sometimes they just break through or perhaps I secretly enjoy them because deep down that's what I think about myself and it just reaffirms those feelings.
I'm really not trying to be morbid here, overly negative or even seeking praise, I swear. I'm trying to be gut-level honest because if I'm not, then really this whole thing is just fluff and a waste of my time and yours.
So here's the good part. I did do the next right thing. I went to a meeting and I heard what I needed to hear. This woman was sharing about how hard she struggled to get sober. That in the beginning she would go to meetings but then get drunk or do drugs. She wasn't changing anything. Even when she committed to the program, it took two years for the obsession to be somewhat lifted.
TWO YEARS? I might have to wait two years to really love myself? I mean I've been telling myself for years and years that I suck and I'm worthless (again, not all the time ... honestly, for the most part I'm a happy and joyous person but those core feelings are there), and 12 days isn't enough to fix that?
Okay, okay ... even I got a little chuckle out of that one.
I think I'll keep working at this because I do want to love myself. And, by the way, I truly love all of you ... even if you don't read my blog. My heart is with you so thanks!
I want to read my romance/erotic novels. (I've decided to cut myself off from these books for the 30 days as well.) My new bestie from my trip, Stacey, was reading one while we were at the Canyon. (I put "bestie" in there for you Lauren ... just to piss you off -- tee hee.) I, of course, knew the book she was reading, and had read the whole trilogy, among every other book she mentioned.
What was interesting to me was that she would read some, but had no trouble whatsoever stopping to have a conversation with me, or others, or to do something else. When I'm into one of these books, I don't want to do anything else but read until I've devoured the book. I want to be the women (I mean girls) in these novels. I want someone to be possessive of me, and I want every other woman to want the man I'm with, but somehow Mr. Perfect chooses me, and will do anything to have me. I can't tell you how hard it is for me to write that because in my mind, that sounds so pathetic. I'm a 47-year-old woman, and I'm pining after a 22-year-old's make-believe life. But I love these books ... seriously. The writing often sucks, the story is pretty much always the same and I can't get enough of them.
I know so many of you, who are NOT addicts, will say what's wrong with reading romance novels? And in reality, there's nothing wrong with it. Just like there's nothing wrong with drinking alcohol ... and I mean that. There is nothing wrong with drinking. Many people can drink socially, can take it or leave it. I CAN'T. When I become obsessive about something, I need to let it go ... at least for a little while until it no longer has that "I-want-to-escape-from-my-life hold." Unlike alcohol, which I can never drink again, I can sometimes go back to activities that I used to be obsessed with, but 12 days probably isn't enough, and especially if I feel about these books like they are crack!
Ah, Angel, 12 days and I want to be fixed and done with this experiment. I'm such an addict. If I don't feel well (i.e. perfect, high on life, nothing should be wrong) then I immediately want to escape, to not feel, to do anything but the next right thing.
I still am so thrilled I went to the Grand Canyon, but now it's over. I've got nothing to look forward to, nothing to fret and worry about, nothing to focus on, but me and my normal, boring old life, oh and my surgery May 9, which clearly isn't as exciting as a trip.
My mind tells me writing this blog is stupid. I'm a quitter (see Day 2) so what am I trying to prove? Everyone probably gets annoyed when I send them an email saying I've written another post. This is what I hear in my head: "God, she's an egomaniac. I've told her I liked it now stop sending me emails. I'll read it if I want to. What more could she possibly have to say? Why did she think I'd be interested in this anyway? Thank God there's no sign up button so I can just delete her emails when I get them. Okay, enough about loving yourself ... I get it, now go away."
Harsh huh? That's me, which is why I'm doing this experiment in the first place. I try to say the mantra, I love myself, to cut off those thoughts, but sometimes they just break through or perhaps I secretly enjoy them because deep down that's what I think about myself and it just reaffirms those feelings.
I'm really not trying to be morbid here, overly negative or even seeking praise, I swear. I'm trying to be gut-level honest because if I'm not, then really this whole thing is just fluff and a waste of my time and yours.
So here's the good part. I did do the next right thing. I went to a meeting and I heard what I needed to hear. This woman was sharing about how hard she struggled to get sober. That in the beginning she would go to meetings but then get drunk or do drugs. She wasn't changing anything. Even when she committed to the program, it took two years for the obsession to be somewhat lifted.
TWO YEARS? I might have to wait two years to really love myself? I mean I've been telling myself for years and years that I suck and I'm worthless (again, not all the time ... honestly, for the most part I'm a happy and joyous person but those core feelings are there), and 12 days isn't enough to fix that?
Okay, okay ... even I got a little chuckle out of that one.
I think I'll keep working at this because I do want to love myself. And, by the way, I truly love all of you ... even if you don't read my blog. My heart is with you so thanks!
Saturday, April 26, 2014
Day 9, 10 and 11 -- Sorry No Internet at Phantom Ranch
What an extraordinary experience!
We head via bus to the South Kaibab trail at about 9:00 a.m. It's cold and windy, but the day promises to be warm and sunny as we travel down the canyon. Here's a view from the top of the 7-1/2 mile trail we would be descending that day (super steep so less miles than the Bright Angel trail, which is 10 miles long from Phantom Ranch to the Rim, we would be heading back up Friday).
Our guide starts us off with a quick reminder of the three most important things to remember ... the three Fs -- food, feet and fluids. Eat often, notice any "hot spots" on your feet before they become blisters (apparently that's what they are called) and drink lots of water. Okay, I can do this. Three simple things ... but nothing is ever quite simple with me. First I have to immediately change my shorts at the top of the trail head because my camelback leaked all over my backside. I thought I had a leak in my bladder (that's what holds the water in a camelback) and was freaking out because there are no water refill stations along the Kaibab trail so you have to bring enough fluids to get you down the trail. My guide looks at my bladder, can't find a leak and then checks the mouth part you drink from. Sure enough I didn't have it turned off so it was leaking out everywhere. One crisis solved.
Then I get out my new hiking poles. For anyone that knows me, I am seriously the most inept person when it comes to anything mechanical. I can't even get a toolbox open. Tim used to get so frustrated with me and thought I was being helpless on purpose so I wouldn't have to do anything for myself, but he has since learned, I really can't figure this shit out. However, it's one thing to appear like an idiot in front of your husband and quite another in front of complete strangers waiting on you to get started! I can't figure out to get the poles extended to the right length. Finally my guide says you need to turn them until they become loose and then tighten them the same way. Oh, okay ... so I struggle a bit more and then finally get them fixed. Then the guide says to me, "And, ah, you need to take the protective tips off the end." Oh, I didn't know they weren't supposed to be on there ... once again, I'm struggling to pull them off. "Um, actually I think they screw off," says the guide probably wondering if I'm the token problem child he's going to have to deal with on this trip. Oh, okay. Argh ... I feel like such a dope. But finally, we are ready to hit the trail.
The view from the top is stunning of course, and I'm so excited I'm giddy. We start down the trail going back and forth over the switchbacks, and after an hour or two it's already at least 10 degrees warmer. The weather is perfect, not too hot and not too windy at this point. It seems like every time we round a corner, it's another breathtaking view and I get that familiar feeling of awe and emotion in my chest when I feel overwhelming gratitude for where I am, what I'm doing, and quite frankly, when I feel closest to God. And as most of you know, I mean that wholly in a spiritual way, not in a religious way.
At about 12 we stop for a lunch that our REI guide has brought for us. He leads us to a shady place among the rocks with a view of the Colorado River below. He sets up fresh salmon, strawberries, blueberries, hummus, crackers, brie cheese, cucumbers, salami, turkey and bread. It's like a gourmet picnic, and we all dig in. The pace is slow, and we stop often for breaks and to enjoy the view. Stacey and I stop often to take pictures, and we are dubbed the Kodak twins.
Finally we reach the bridge that crosses the Colorado River and we head into Phantom Ranch. It's like a little oasis nestled at the bottom of the Canyon. Tons of green trees and a stream surround the ranch. We're tired and dirty and excited. Our guide checks us in and informs us that they've had a water break so there's no running water, but they do have fresh water to drink. In other words, no showers and to flush the toilets we have to fill these big red buckets with water and then pour it down the toilet. Then refill the bucket and leave it for the next person who has to go. Fun, fun, fun. It's gross and our dorms consist of bunk beds for eight women and nothing else, but it's so beautiful here and peaceful, you're grateful to be sleeping inside and not in a tent even if you have to use a bucket to flush the toilet!
We eat dinner family style, and I love it. I love sitting with all these strangers and sharing food and our journey down to the canyon and we are all so proud of ourselves for making it. Our guide tells us our breakfast time tomorrow is 6:30 am and then around 7:45 am we'll go on an optional five or six mile hike on the Clear Creek trail. Stacey and I attend that evening's Ranger talk on the first two guys who decided to swim the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. Our Ranger, Mandy, is an amazing story teller and it's just so neat to being sitting outside, listening to a story with crickets chirping and birds and bats flying overhead and the stars shining brightly above. We head back to the dorms, ready for sleep and tomorrow's adventures. I'm exhausted and have to use the bathroom before bed. I do my business, flush the toilet (or flush the red bucket of water) and head out to the spigot to refill the bucket and replace it for the next person who has to use the facilities. I walk up the steps leading to the dorms, my calves screaming from the descent down, and head into my dorm. I look up but none of the women look familiar. I stop and realize I'm in the wrong dorm. Only I would walk into the wrong dorm ... they laugh and I sheepishly say I'm sorry and then head back to my dorm and tell on myself so everyone else can laugh at me. Time for bed!
The next day includes our morning hike where we get a bird's eye view of Phantom Ranch and a better look at the Kaibab trail that we just came down. I can't believe I did that (nor can my calves)! We learn about how organic red dye is made ... get this, you look for prickly pear beetle poop, find the beetle and when you smash the beetle, it creates the most rich red natural dye that is used today. Who knew poop could be so useful? The day is gorgeous, I spend most of it relaxing after the morning hike, taking a nap, playing bananagrams and cards (which I brought -- gotta have my games!) and then attending the Ranger's talk that evening, which was on the Kolb brothers who were the first photographers and huge explorers of the Grand Canyon. Too long of a story to share here but it was captivating. Even more enthralling was sitting outside with all these people, looking up at the huge, star-filled sky and feeling so blessed to be at such a beautiful and remote place. A bonus was we got to see the Space Station cross the sky that night. So cool! I missed Tim and Ben like crazy, but it was so good to be truly unplugged, to connect with nature and to be quiet and just move at a slower pace. I go to bed that night filled with contentment and gratitude, and lots of sore muscles.
We wake up at 4:30 am the next morning, quickly get dressed and pack up and head to breakfast at 5:00 am. By 6:00 am we are on the Bright Angel trail. I feel like they're aren't enough adjectives to describe the beauty of the trail. I've included some pictures below but suffice it to say, it was stunning and so different from the South Kaibab trail. Bright Angel trail is lush with a bit more gentle incline, that is until we get past the first four or so miles, and then the climb begins. The last three miles are brutal, my legs are like jelly but I'm still smiling from ear to ear. I finally see the buildings at the top and I know I'm close. Only two others are in front of me, and all I can think about is that I'll get to talk to Tim and Ben when I reach the top. I finally get to the top and I'm filled with such a sense of accomplishment and joy that I don't even know what to do with myself. I make the trek in six hours, three hours ahead of our meeting time. I turn my phone on and get the constant beep, beep beep, letting me know I have messages and mail. Ah, I'm back to civilization.
The funny thing is that I'm in no hurry to even look at even one email but I can't wait to call Tim. He can barely get a word in edge wise I'm so excited. I'm dirty and exhausted and overwhelmed with happiness. I muttered I love myself, I love myself most of the way up the trail off and on.
I'll be honest ... I still don't feel overwhelming love for myself, but I did get this clear message that said, I need to do more adventures like this. I want to see the world, I want to connect with nature and share my life with others. I know I feel more present and more at peace with myself when I'm truly doing things I love, and I loved every stinky, hard moment of this trip. Namaste.
We head via bus to the South Kaibab trail at about 9:00 a.m. It's cold and windy, but the day promises to be warm and sunny as we travel down the canyon. Here's a view from the top of the 7-1/2 mile trail we would be descending that day (super steep so less miles than the Bright Angel trail, which is 10 miles long from Phantom Ranch to the Rim, we would be heading back up Friday).
Our guide starts us off with a quick reminder of the three most important things to remember ... the three Fs -- food, feet and fluids. Eat often, notice any "hot spots" on your feet before they become blisters (apparently that's what they are called) and drink lots of water. Okay, I can do this. Three simple things ... but nothing is ever quite simple with me. First I have to immediately change my shorts at the top of the trail head because my camelback leaked all over my backside. I thought I had a leak in my bladder (that's what holds the water in a camelback) and was freaking out because there are no water refill stations along the Kaibab trail so you have to bring enough fluids to get you down the trail. My guide looks at my bladder, can't find a leak and then checks the mouth part you drink from. Sure enough I didn't have it turned off so it was leaking out everywhere. One crisis solved.
Then I get out my new hiking poles. For anyone that knows me, I am seriously the most inept person when it comes to anything mechanical. I can't even get a toolbox open. Tim used to get so frustrated with me and thought I was being helpless on purpose so I wouldn't have to do anything for myself, but he has since learned, I really can't figure this shit out. However, it's one thing to appear like an idiot in front of your husband and quite another in front of complete strangers waiting on you to get started! I can't figure out to get the poles extended to the right length. Finally my guide says you need to turn them until they become loose and then tighten them the same way. Oh, okay ... so I struggle a bit more and then finally get them fixed. Then the guide says to me, "And, ah, you need to take the protective tips off the end." Oh, I didn't know they weren't supposed to be on there ... once again, I'm struggling to pull them off. "Um, actually I think they screw off," says the guide probably wondering if I'm the token problem child he's going to have to deal with on this trip. Oh, okay. Argh ... I feel like such a dope. But finally, we are ready to hit the trail.
The view from the top is stunning of course, and I'm so excited I'm giddy. We start down the trail going back and forth over the switchbacks, and after an hour or two it's already at least 10 degrees warmer. The weather is perfect, not too hot and not too windy at this point. It seems like every time we round a corner, it's another breathtaking view and I get that familiar feeling of awe and emotion in my chest when I feel overwhelming gratitude for where I am, what I'm doing, and quite frankly, when I feel closest to God. And as most of you know, I mean that wholly in a spiritual way, not in a religious way.
At about 12 we stop for a lunch that our REI guide has brought for us. He leads us to a shady place among the rocks with a view of the Colorado River below. He sets up fresh salmon, strawberries, blueberries, hummus, crackers, brie cheese, cucumbers, salami, turkey and bread. It's like a gourmet picnic, and we all dig in. The pace is slow, and we stop often for breaks and to enjoy the view. Stacey and I stop often to take pictures, and we are dubbed the Kodak twins.
Finally we reach the bridge that crosses the Colorado River and we head into Phantom Ranch. It's like a little oasis nestled at the bottom of the Canyon. Tons of green trees and a stream surround the ranch. We're tired and dirty and excited. Our guide checks us in and informs us that they've had a water break so there's no running water, but they do have fresh water to drink. In other words, no showers and to flush the toilets we have to fill these big red buckets with water and then pour it down the toilet. Then refill the bucket and leave it for the next person who has to go. Fun, fun, fun. It's gross and our dorms consist of bunk beds for eight women and nothing else, but it's so beautiful here and peaceful, you're grateful to be sleeping inside and not in a tent even if you have to use a bucket to flush the toilet!
We eat dinner family style, and I love it. I love sitting with all these strangers and sharing food and our journey down to the canyon and we are all so proud of ourselves for making it. Our guide tells us our breakfast time tomorrow is 6:30 am and then around 7:45 am we'll go on an optional five or six mile hike on the Clear Creek trail. Stacey and I attend that evening's Ranger talk on the first two guys who decided to swim the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. Our Ranger, Mandy, is an amazing story teller and it's just so neat to being sitting outside, listening to a story with crickets chirping and birds and bats flying overhead and the stars shining brightly above. We head back to the dorms, ready for sleep and tomorrow's adventures. I'm exhausted and have to use the bathroom before bed. I do my business, flush the toilet (or flush the red bucket of water) and head out to the spigot to refill the bucket and replace it for the next person who has to use the facilities. I walk up the steps leading to the dorms, my calves screaming from the descent down, and head into my dorm. I look up but none of the women look familiar. I stop and realize I'm in the wrong dorm. Only I would walk into the wrong dorm ... they laugh and I sheepishly say I'm sorry and then head back to my dorm and tell on myself so everyone else can laugh at me. Time for bed!
The next day includes our morning hike where we get a bird's eye view of Phantom Ranch and a better look at the Kaibab trail that we just came down. I can't believe I did that (nor can my calves)! We learn about how organic red dye is made ... get this, you look for prickly pear beetle poop, find the beetle and when you smash the beetle, it creates the most rich red natural dye that is used today. Who knew poop could be so useful? The day is gorgeous, I spend most of it relaxing after the morning hike, taking a nap, playing bananagrams and cards (which I brought -- gotta have my games!) and then attending the Ranger's talk that evening, which was on the Kolb brothers who were the first photographers and huge explorers of the Grand Canyon. Too long of a story to share here but it was captivating. Even more enthralling was sitting outside with all these people, looking up at the huge, star-filled sky and feeling so blessed to be at such a beautiful and remote place. A bonus was we got to see the Space Station cross the sky that night. So cool! I missed Tim and Ben like crazy, but it was so good to be truly unplugged, to connect with nature and to be quiet and just move at a slower pace. I go to bed that night filled with contentment and gratitude, and lots of sore muscles.
We wake up at 4:30 am the next morning, quickly get dressed and pack up and head to breakfast at 5:00 am. By 6:00 am we are on the Bright Angel trail. I feel like they're aren't enough adjectives to describe the beauty of the trail. I've included some pictures below but suffice it to say, it was stunning and so different from the South Kaibab trail. Bright Angel trail is lush with a bit more gentle incline, that is until we get past the first four or so miles, and then the climb begins. The last three miles are brutal, my legs are like jelly but I'm still smiling from ear to ear. I finally see the buildings at the top and I know I'm close. Only two others are in front of me, and all I can think about is that I'll get to talk to Tim and Ben when I reach the top. I finally get to the top and I'm filled with such a sense of accomplishment and joy that I don't even know what to do with myself. I make the trek in six hours, three hours ahead of our meeting time. I turn my phone on and get the constant beep, beep beep, letting me know I have messages and mail. Ah, I'm back to civilization.
The funny thing is that I'm in no hurry to even look at even one email but I can't wait to call Tim. He can barely get a word in edge wise I'm so excited. I'm dirty and exhausted and overwhelmed with happiness. I muttered I love myself, I love myself most of the way up the trail off and on.
I'll be honest ... I still don't feel overwhelming love for myself, but I did get this clear message that said, I need to do more adventures like this. I want to see the world, I want to connect with nature and share my life with others. I know I feel more present and more at peace with myself when I'm truly doing things I love, and I loved every stinky, hard moment of this trip. Namaste.
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