Embracing the moment with the help of DH Lawrence

“I embrace this moment” is a wonderful idea, but I’m having trouble with the implementation. I spend much of my time planning for the future and, considering the circumstances of my life right now, that makes sense. My husband just got a new job, my daughter is going to high school next year and I am preparing to “go out on disability.” It will serve us better to plan ahead for these big changes.

I need to understand the difference between preparing and worrying. Here again, it’s all about the serenity prayer: there are things I can change and things I can’t.

Preparing means taking action now that will make a probable future go more easily. My husband will have to travel to get trained in his new job. Activities that were scheduled for that week need to be rescheduled. My daughter needs to fill out and submit forms to choose her classes for next year. I need to stop putting money into my retirement fund. Each task of preparation, though gesturing to the future, is done in the present moment.

Worrying is excessively creating detailed pictures about what may go wrong. I am a champion worrier. Chronic, progressive illness can easily invite worry. The strength in and dexterity of my hands has diminished over the last few years.

How far will it go? Will my hands be paralyzed? Will the spasticity that nags my legs start bothering my arms? Will I be able to manage while my husband is traveling? Will my daughter be warped by being around a mom dealing (sometimes none too gracefully) with disability?

My inner narrator starts sounding like the announcer at the end of an old soap opera.

When I find myself worrying, the present moment can save me.

“I got the blues thinking of the future, so I left off and made some marmalade. It’s amazing how it cheers one up to shred oranges and scrub the floor.”  –D.H. Lawrence

By immersing himself in physical, creative activity, Lawrence returned to the present moment.

Thoughts of worry arise from the biological instinct to Keep Myself and My Love Ones Safe.  It’s a useful instinct.  That instinct has made our species the spectacular, 7 billion strong, success we are today. My spinning, obsessive, negative thinking? Not so successful.

I need to let go of my worrying mind and return to the present moment. I can do that by taking a deep breath and noticing– with compassion – what my senses are experiencing right now.  I can say to myself, “In this moment, I am safe.”

After a moments’ rest understanding that I am safe, I can ask myself. “Are there actions I can take that will help me feel safer?”  If I can take action immediately, that’s great. If it’s an action that has to be taken in the future, I can write it in a list or calendar so that I am reminded about it when the time comes.

Meanwhile, I have a new phrase to recall me to the present moment: Shred oranges and scrub the floor.

Dog Days and my Sorry-Self Monster

It has been ridiculously hot for several weeks in Minnesota. Our recent vacation to a cabin in Wisconsin was cut short because all we could do was sit inside with the air conditioner on and watch the condensation on the windows.  (Okay, I polished off some schlocky mysteries, but that wasn't what I had in mind for the woods.)

Multiple sclerosis is infamous flaring up in the heat. Doctors used to diagnose MS by putting people in hot tubs of water ." If we had to fish you out," I heard Dr. Randall Schapiro say, "that meant you had MS ."

When the weather is hot and I try to move , I discover I can't. It's as if a layer of cement has formed around me while I sit.

Our neighbor took his dog out for a walk .  They were heading down the sidewalk toward their front door when the dog , deciding  she had had enough, flopped down in the grass . The owner smiled indulgently at the dog and let her lie. After a couple of minutes, he tugged on the dog's leash, urging her toward the door. The dog didn't move. The owner tugged harder. The dog raised her head, looked at the owner, and then put her head back in the grass. The owner bent over, picked up the dog and carried her inside. I mentally applauded the dog for using animal wisdom to understand this was a day for lying in the grass.

Shut inside last winter by cold and snow, I dreamed of summer trips to nearby parks. I thought I could breathe nature into my soul this summer so that I could make it through winter months of being shut inside. So far, it's not working. Too hot. Too hard to breathe.

If I want to go beyond wheelchair range, I have to plan my trip three days in advance because of paratransit rules. Disability requires advance planning. Too inconvenient.

At first, my Sorry-Self Monster made a case for how sad it is that I cannot, like a dog, decide on impulse to lie in the grass.  My first instinct is to tell the monster to stop being such a wuss. This will make it wail louder. Not a useful response on my part.

What can I do instead?

First of all, pat the poor monster on the shoulder and give it a hug. Honestly, this is not easy. Healthy people go off to the beach or the woods or Machu Picchu on a whim. (Okay, maybe not that last one…) My point is that space must be made for those feelings of hurt and anger. The monster has a right to its feelings.

What is at the core of this fantasy? I envision myself living it: a park because that makes it accessible. Trees and quiet. Greenness and critters to watch. Extra points if I haven't been there before.

I came close last week when I went to Carver Lake. It's within wheelchair distance and met all the requirements except for the quiet. Because it's a city park and it was a Saturday, there were too many engine noises and a bit of human hubhub. If I had gone earlier in the morning I would have gotten everything but the extra points.

Short-term plan: return to Carver Lake early on a weekday morning. (I'll be late to work, but it will help my mental health so much I will be more productive when I get to my desk.)

Thinking about the big picture, I know I am nourished by nature and the arts. The sensible thing to do (after all, I have a Sensible Monster too) would be to do arts-related things in the winter and nature-related things in the summer. While my soul requires constant care and feeding, the Big Things don't have to happen that often.

If I make a Fill-the-bucket date once a month, I bet that would keep me happy.

Long-term plan:  each month, plan a Fill-the-bucket outing for the next month, taking likely weather into account. (I just did some surfing about nature centers near me to which I could get paratransit or rides.) Since it's near the end of the month, I will plan now for August.

(I am pleased to see that most Wikipedia dog days dates are over by late August. I am ready for some cool fall air! )

Inviting Change: The Power of Less (book response)

[I have decided to post a few notes about a book before I mention it in my monthly newsletter. This is not a review of the literary value of the book, but rather a record of the response I had while reading it.]


The new year invited me to think and read about making positive changes. That's what New Year's resolutions are all about, right?

I was reminded what dangerous territory the idea of change is for me.

My adult life has been organized around coping with changes thrust upon me by living with a chronic illness. What with changes engendered by living at the turn-of-the-century and living through an uncertain economy, etc., most human beings are coping with enormous amounts of change. The new jargon for grace in response to change is "resilience." Building skills in this area is a survival mechanism for all of us.

But what about inviting change? I've been spending time recently with a book called The Power of Less, by Leo Babauta.

I was attracted to the book because Babauta is the author of the popular blog Zen Habits. I hoped he would not get too aggressive and heroic with his advice about how to make changes.

The book does, indeed, take a gentle and sane approach to change. Babauta encourages us to identify what is essential in our lives and eliminate the rest. It is about simplification.

I enjoyed and was inspired by the first 60 or so pages and then found myself getting into trouble. It took me a few days of processing (I'm not the fastest heifer in the stampede) before I realized my difficulty and made accommodations.

Babauta's Power of Less Principles-- and his explanation of them-- are fine:

1. Set limitations.
2. Choose the essential.
3. Simplify.
4. Focus.
5. Create habits.
6. Start small.

In the second part of the book, "In Practice," he gives examples of how to apply the principles in various areas of our lives. I found myself getting more and more frustrated with this section, until I identified my difficulty.

My problem, it turns out, is that I have little control over the practicalities of my life. I can't, for instance, get up half an hour earlier and create a new morning routine without inconveniencing several people. I have to have help to get out of bed, get dressed, have a cup of tea… I have to have help with pretty much everything on his morning routine list. I ran into similar trouble with many of Babauta's suggestions.

I returned, as I often do, to the safety of the serenity prayer: God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.

Babauta's book encourages us to think about goals and projects. To his process, I need to add:

1. Identify tasks wherein I have control.
2. Identify tasks with which I would need to ask for help.
3. Decide with which tasks I am willing to ask for help.
4. Identify potential helpers.
5. Ask for help as decided.

My experience is that asking for help comes with a cost. If I have consciously decided to ask for help and accept the cost, then I will find it easier to make the changes I want to make.

Babauta's emphasis on focused, small, present-oriented changes makes it a good fit for someone like me who is working within limitations. As with most life processes, however, I have to take a little extra time to tailor his suggestions to my specific needs.

Working with a Broken System

What does living with disability teach me about working with a broken system?

This week I had the opportunity to bang into two broken systems.

First, the public health nurse who came to do my annual PCA evaluation (wherein she evaluates whether I still need the services of a personal care attendant) asked if my husband and I had discussed getting divorced so that, when I have to quit work, I will be able to continue to have a PCA. Second, I rode Metro Mobility, our local paratransit system and waited for my ride for an hour beyond the promised pickup time.

As I was bumping along in the bus, I realized I'm going to have to get better at working with broken systems. The good news is I'm not alone.

I googled "broken system" and discovered that I am surrounded by them. Our financial, immigration, education and healthcare systems have been described as broken…and that's just the first page of results!

So, hmm, what do I know about broken systems? Oh, right! I live in this body, which some people would no doubt describe is a broken system. Can't get much closer than that.

Learn as much as you can handle

Knowledge is power. The more I learn about how this system works, the more resourceful I will be in response.

On the other hand, there is more to know than I can take. I have to look at the big picture and make some guesses about what knowledge will be the most helpful. I have to learn a piece at a time or I get too overwhelmed.

Identify the experts

There are people who already know a lot about the system. If I can figure out who they are and talk to them, they can help me learn more quickly and efficiently.

I also need to remember that some of the experts do not have titles or letters behind their names. They are, as jargon has it, "consumers"-- those folks who have wrestled with the system from the inside out.

Notice what's working

Broken systems are so obviously broken that it's easy to miss what's working. I need to pay attention to what goes smoothly and easily. When I find those things, I need to:

• celebrate!
• thank the folks who are doing a good job
• think of ways I can strengthen these pockets of righteousness. (See "advocate" below.)

About what's not working...

What's glaringly obvious about a broken system, of course, are all the things that are wrong with it. When I bump into those things, I can ask two questions:

1. Can I make it better?
   If yes, then hahloo hahlay, I should just have at it! If no, see question #2.


2. Could I fix it if I had help?
   If yes, then I can rally the troops and take action. If no, see question #3.


3. Do I know who can make it better?
   If yes, then I can contact them, let them know what I see is wrong and tell them any ideas I have about how to fix it. This is called advocacy. Unfortunately, many of the consumers of broken systems are unable to do it because of lack of knowledge and resources (including personal energy). If I can do it, I should! (Real Genius fans say it with me: "it's a moral imperative.")
   
   If no, then I can do research to try to find out who can influence this system.

What if it just stinks?


Suppose I can't--even with help--do anything, my advocacy efforts have come to naught and the system is still broken?

Sometimes, the best offense is a good defense.

I need to protect myself, body, mind and spirit.

Having learned about the system and identified the experts and influencers, I can figure out what rules (nonsensical though they may be) are in place that might help me get what I need.

I can bear in mind that broken systems often don't make sense; it's not necessarily that something's wrong with me.

I can cultivate a state of mind and spirit that allow me to exist amidst the chaos. I need to put some thought, creativity and effort into creating my "bureaucratic happy place" whence, faced with the inequities and complexities of the broken system, I can retreat.

As it turns out, I have a lot of ideas about working with a broken system. Isn't it great (sarcasm) that I will have so many opportunities to practice them!