Lessons in Gratitude Day 621

Posted on March 26, 2013 by mtchamblee

Today I took a walk on the wild side, threw caution to the wind, and (add here your choice of clichés about doing something risky and potentially foolish.) In my case, foolish. I drank a can of Coke at around 2 p.m. Wowwwww, you say, shaking your head at me. Now you’ve gone and done it. Indeed. I do not drink caffeinated beverages that late in the day because no matter how tired I might be earlier, as the day gets longer and the hour later that caffeine will kick in. Even now I can feel myself getting more instead of less wakeful. We’ll see what happens; an hour ago I was wiped out, but am feeling perkier at a time when I am usually half asleep, struggling to stay awake long enough to write as coherently as possible. Usually, I’ll be awake exactly twelve hours after I’ve consumed the soda, in which case I’ll conceivably be awake at 2 a.m. Pray it ain’t so. My alarm rings at 5:39 a.m. (don’t ask) and I can tell you from experience that three and a half hours of sleep is not sufficient for an adult over 50. So I’m trying to psych my mind into being tired, even as I feel increasingly energized.

I am grateful this evening, wakefulness notwithstanding, for the unexpected blessing that is social media–Facebook and WordPress in particular. WordPress, because it is the site where I host this blog, though I am grateful for all such sites that provide a free space for writers and philosophers and all kinds of folk to take their ideas literally around the world. While I have no sure evidence that this blog routinely makes it around the world, I happen to know that some friends and colleagues in Europe have read it at least once and perhaps others have as well. And I am grateful for Facebook for the way it has connected and reconnected me with friends, family, acquaintances, and an odd assortment of other folks who for one reason or another want to be my “friend.” Only in a few cases does it make me nervous to have such a wide assortment of people on my “friends list,” but for the most part I post mostly positive things–like this blog–and not things I am not prepared to share with the whole world.

I am happy to have been reunited with old family friends with whom I hadn’t spoken much but have been able to connect more closely through social media than we had in several years any other way. I can measure in decades how long it’s been since I’ve spoken to some folks, and yet we are in frequent communication via social media. Cousins and family members I’ve yet to meet in person I’ve already “met” virtually, and while virtual, disembodied connection does not compare with meeting people face to face, it can actually make the in-person meeting easier for having been in communication  well beforehand. And while virtual friends are no substitute for the actual living physical presence of other human beings and we all need to be sure that we’re out there in the real world interacting with real people, social media provides us with the opportunity to connect with all kinds of people, all over the world, day or night. That is pretty remarkable when you stop to think about it.

So in a few minutes I’m going to complete this blog, flip over to Facebook and post the link to it. People will read and comment on and/or “like” it. I am grateful and honored to be here sharing my heart about ideas connected to this notion of gratitude. Use your social media to share it or the things you’re grateful for in your life. Let’s spread the love!

Posted in Gratitude | Leave a comment

Lessons in Gratitude Day 620

Posted on March 25, 2013 by mtchamblee

It occurs to me that 620 days is a lot of days to do something like write a blog every day. Other than the required biological functions of eating, sleeping, eliminating wastes, and other things I can’t think of too many other things I consistently do every day that requires thought, time, energy, and some measure of creativity. This is simply a random observation that has little to do with gratitude, which has for the previous 619 days been the subject of this blog. It will be for day 620 and beyond, however long beyond might take me.

Each evening I scan back through the course of the day as it unfolded considering what things I will highlight in my blog for the evening. What things happened in the day that caught my particular attention, what insights did I have as I interacted with people, encountered ideas and situations that sparked as sense of gratefulness in me? So many things happen over the course of a day that I lose count, moments of simple gratitude and the occasional occurrence that fosters a deep sense of gratitude.

I am grateful simply to be sitting here on my bed, listening to the rain falling and the wind blowing outside my little house. It is warm and dry and safe inside and I am grateful. Last night as I was posting this blog on my Facebook page I noted several pictures that had been posted by one of my brothers. They were photos of the yard and several structures where we’d lived when I was growing up. The actual house we’d lived in had been torn down some months ago, but various outbuildings and such are still standing. As I looked through the photos–there were perhaps only four or five–I could almost feel my heart twisting in my chest so visceral was my reaction. This had been a place of deep meaning for me, and when we moved in the late summer of my 15th year my life changed in some profound ways.

I was reminded yet again of how often I have searched for a sense of home for much of my life. We lived in that house for ten years–a relatively short amount of time in the scheme of things. But for me there are so many memories–both wonderful and awful–that are connected to that place that no matter how long ago we lived there (it’s been nearly 41 years since we moved) in many ways it still represents home to me. Looking at the pictures of the now overgrown and shabby-looking property felt like viewing the ruins of a once-great civilization: the structures were barely recognizable as the once reasonably meticulous property we’d grown up on. Of course my mental picture of it today is of it having been meticulously kept when another part of me knows it was probably quite average. Still it was a magical place of exploration for me and my siblings, particularly the four younger of us.

I recognized the sense of loss I was feeling and was reminded again that though I’ve bounced around many places in the last 40 years I have not yet found that sense of home. And yet I can look back with gratitude at the many wonderful places I’ve lived over the years, each providing a space in which I could create a sense of home for myself and my family. I may not have yet reached the place I would call home, but I have learned to create it wherever I find myself. So as I sit here this evening in my warm, safe little house I am grateful to be here and will create home yet again for myself and my four-legged companion. May it be so!

Posted in Gratitude, Home | Leave a comment

Lessons in Gratitude Day 619

Posted on March 24, 2013 by mtchamblee

Today has been a very satisfying day. I have them from time to time: those days that are a nice mix of getting a lot of things done balanced with doing low-key, fun stuff. I accomplished a lot of house cleaning types of things (I won’t list them here but it was a lot…) as well as bathing the dog and trimming her nails, which is a major undertaking for both of us. Then I had to clean up the tub and sweep the bathroom of all the dog hair from before, during, and after the bath. Plus I had to wash her beds so we wouldn’t be putting a clean body into a dirty bed. Each task sort of led into the next, the end result being that I got a lot of cleaning and other projects done.

I also managed to spend some relaxing time listening to my audiobook, working on a jigsaw puzzle (a picture of a cardinal, I know, hopeless!), and enjoying today’s show at the bird feeder. And after four previous attempts, the squirrel finally got to the feeder. I wish I had had my camera ready fast enough–these days it sits next to me on the living room sofa. The squirrel, that had started on the roof as usual, dropped onto the feeder and was hugging it, swinging back and forth with the momentum of the leap, trying to push its too large mouth into the small openings. I dashed to get my camera, returning as he was just falling off the feeder, but landing on the ledge under the window. He tried climbing up the window screen but never did get back up to the feeder. I managed to get a few pictures of its attempts to get back there, but it finally gave up.

I am grateful for the comic relief. This morning as I was getting my second cup of coffee, I looked out my kitchen window to see a gray squirrel carrying a large clump of oak leaves across the front yard, up the tree and into the hole it lives in with two other squirrels, one gray and one black. I have no way of knowing if it was the same one that regularly attacks the bird feeder, but either way I have had more than my share of squirrel antics today alone. I have laughed today, I have cried today. I have smiled and experienced the satisfaction of a day of accomplishing tasks. All in all it has been a pretty good day.

Each morning when I write in my journal I end with lovingkindness phrases, sending well-wishing intentions for myself and others.

May I be filled with lovingkindness and compassion.
May I be peaceful and happy.
May I be safe and protected from harm.
May I be healthy and strong in body, mind, and spirit
May I live with joy, ease, and wellbeing.
May it be so for my family and loved ones, for my acquaintances and “enemies.” May it be so for all beings on this earth and beyond.

Sometimes the phrases vary a bit, and occasionally I add intentions that include elements of the Buddhist teachings of the “four immeasurables”: lovingkindness, compassion, joy, and equanimity. I do not pretend to be an expert in these qualities, but I have been fortunate to have been introduced to them and practice them as best I can, particularly lovingkindness and compassion. When I approach my days from the perspective of these four qualities, practicing them in my daily life, moment by moment, and add to that a dash of generosity and a pinch of gratitude and I’ve concocted a recipe for a good life. I’m looking forward to seeing what I manage to cook up.

Can I Come In?

Posted in Birds and Animals, Buddhist Teachings, Gratitude | Leave a comment

Lessons in Gratitude Day 618

Posted on March 23, 2013 by mtchamblee

One of the things I like about myself is that I am easily entertained. This is not to say that I don’t get bored, periodically I do. It largely depends on the setting, but for the most part I find that I can either entertain or occupy myself or be entertained by examining the world around me and the various creatures (including humans) that inhabit it. I take great pleasure in some very simple things.

I am finding the action that’s been taking place at bird feeder very entertaining. I have always loved birds and backyard animals–animals of any kind really–and grew up watching and listening to the birds that populated my various yards. (If you regularly read this blog you know this about me already.) When I moved from California, leaving my much loved wild turkeys behind (I haven’t yet seen any here in Maryland), I wondered what manner of fauna I’d find. I knew I’d cardinals, which made me very happy as they are one of my favorite birds and you don’t find them in California. I have also become accustomed to the black squirrels–including one that lives in the tree in my yard along with two other grey squirrels. But I was particularly hopeful about the birds.

So in November I hung my feeder right outside one of my living room windows and waited. No one showed up in December or and the first visitor in mid-January was a squirrel. The birds eventually discovered the feeder and the last few weeks have been a virtual avian free-for-all as a number of different species of critters have shown up. With my nifty camera that is almost always at the ready I have managed to snap photos of about eight to ten different species of birds: tufted titmice, white breasted nuthatch, and potentially Carolina chickadees, with a smattering of other finches, sparrows, and other winged ones yet to be identified. Still, I must confess I was waiting for the cardinals to show: I’d heard their songs in neighboring trees–I’d learned the distinctive sound of the cardinal’s call when I was a child–and hope they’d find their way. And then they did, first the male on March 17 and the female a few days later.

Saint Patrick's Day Visitor to the Feeder

This morning as I was rushing around (in spite of my desire to slow myself down) I came out to the feeder and discovered that once again the squirrel was pounding on the top of the fee. At one point he had actually seemed to hang from the feeder itself before finally giving up and retreating to ground and heading off in search of more easily accessible foodstuffs. It has been quite wonderful watching the antics at the bird feeder and enjoying the up close and personal view I have of the lovely critters who show up there. It is a very simple, inexpensive, and thoroughly enjoyable pastime.

I am grateful as always for the fauna and flora that surround me. It gives me joy to see them and hear them all arounds me. The educator and horticulturist Liberty Hyde Bailey said,“It is a marvelous planet on which we ride. It is a great privilege to live thereon,to partake in the journey,and to experience its goodness.” It truly is a privilege and not one I am likely to take for granted.

The Aerialist

Posted in Birds and Animals, Gratitude | Leave a comment

Lessons in Gratitude Day 617

Posted on March 22, 2013 by mtchamblee

I have a sink full of dishes at the moment, and at 7:20 p.m. on a Friday night I’m going to continue to have that sink full of dishes until tomorrow morning some time. Tonight my plan is to program my new smart phone–the first new phone in three years (a lifetime for technology)–and sit around, watch television shows I recorded earlier in the week, and totally veg. It has been a long, mentally and emotionally taxing week. In short, it has been a normal week. I am grateful for the weekend. Even though I have a variety of work to do this weekend, it is mostly drama free: things like my sink full of dishes, changing the sheets on my bed, and cleaning and sweeping my room. I also will work on my income taxes, which while not exactly fun or drama free will still require a different kind of energy than I expend at my workplace. I am grateful to be working and even more grateful for the weekend break.

I have learned a lot in what has felt like two weeks worth of week. Yesterday I wrote about the passage of time and about learning to live in the moment. Several times throughout the course of this day, beginning the moment I woke up this morning, I found myself rushing around like the white rabbit in Alice in Wonderland, “I’m late, I’m late for a very important date.” The only thing was that I wasn’t late for anything. Even though I slept through the alarm a number of times–giving myself permission to wake “late” at 6 a.m. rather than 5:39–I nonetheless ended up getting to work early. I began thinking about how I am in the habit of rushing and feeling rushed; there’s the sense of there simply not being enough time in the day to get everything done that I hope to accomplish. But what if it weren’t that I don’t have enough time to do everything I want and need to get done; what if it really is that I have too many things on an out-of-control list of things I feel pressed to get done. Hmmmm.

When we look at the totality of things we attempt to stuff into a day, it’s no wonder we are worn out at the end of a week. Many of us believe that the work we’re doing is important, worth sacrificing for on behalf of the people we serve or the products we create or the problems we solve…and it probably is important. And yet we have to balance that important work with the practical realities, the laws of nature and physics that say we can only get so much done in the course of a day or week.

There’s a proverb that says, “All their days their work is grief and pain; even at night their minds do not rest. This too is meaningless,” and another that says, “It is useless to get up early and to stay up late, eating the food of exhausting labor— truly God gives sleep to those he loves.” In short, what does all the rushing and running from one meeting to the next, sending emails late at night, writing proposals and plans and tip sheets accomplish? And how can we begin to let go of some of the overdoing and focus our attention on those things that we realistically can get done without wearing ourselves down or burning ourselves out in the process?

I am grateful to be thinking and learning more about how to bring a more mindful approach to how I engage my work. It is possible to do work with dedication and passion in such a way that we remain whole in the process. I’m going to keep working on how to do this for myself and then how to model it for the people I work with. In the meantime, I am practicing slowing down, not rushing when I am not late, being present to what is going on around me rather than hurrying past it. I still have some work to do in this area, but I’m continuing to think about it, practice it, and learn as I go. I’ve no doubt it’ll be well worth the effort.

Posted in Gratitude, Time, Work/Employment | Leave a comment

Lessons in Gratitude Day 616

Posted on March 21, 2013 by mtchamblee

“Time keeps on slippin’, slippin’, slippin’ into the future…” The notion of how swiftly time is passing continues to impress itself upon me. Time does have a way of speeding up, and as I look at how my life has evolved over the past year I find myself both amazed and aghast at how quickly the first quarter of the year is over. James Taylor says that “the secret of life is enjoying the passage of time,” but I find that it is so fleeting how is one to enjoy it. Perhaps the answer, in part, lies in the idea of living in the moment.

I don’t pretend to know much about living in the moment–there are many wise and eloquent teachers who talk a lot about what it means and how to approach actually doing it. What I do know is that living in the moment is definitely a practice I want to, well, practice. I want to engage in the process, develop the skill to let go of regrets over the past and anxieties about the future and settle into a vast expanse of the right now. While I don’t fully know what it looks like, I do know that it requires slowing down and not rushing through the various experiences we live through over the course of a single day. It requires paying more attention to what’s happening around me, as best I can.

I find sometimes that I rush around from thing to thing, meeting to meeting, event to event and that even when I don’t have something scheduled next, I still hurry my way toward whatever it is I’m planning to do next. I sometimes drive faster than I need to so I can hurry to get someplace so that I can hurry some more. This is crazy-making, to say the least, so at various points this week and today, I forced myself to stop and slow my movements and my activities. I gently reminded myself as I rushed around this morning, anxious that I would be “late,” that no one in particular would be looking for me until 10 a.m. when I had my first meeting of the day. I need not speed down the highway to get to work, fussing at slow drivers who act as if they are not doing anything as important as I am in taking myself to work.

How often do I rush through the day, focused on “what’s next?” and “Now what?” rather than taking a moment or to simply to be in the moment or two. What would it be like to create space for myself to simply be present with whatever is happening in the space around me, to breathe in and out and relax for a minute or two. My work colleagues see me rippin’ and runnin’ around. What am I modeling for them about exercising self care and about slowing down, taking time to appreciate the people around us and in a sense being grateful to them for their magnificence?

Here is the good news. I can start right this minute to live in the moment. And then I can practice living in this moment, and the one that comes after that. I am grateful for this growing awareness that although time appears to be speeding up, in another way it really isn’t. I am the one speeding up and running through life. I am not entirely sure how I am going to slow the pace down in my work life: people there seem as driven toward various meeting objectives, gathering data, and in general run around like maniac stressing out about all the work they have to do. But I am determined to try. Tomorrow. Tonight’s moment is about reading through this blog one more time before posting it and turning out the light. I have been overly tired lately and hope to refresh myself over the next few days.  The practice of living in the moment is one that I plan to actively work on in the days ahead. I’ll report back, as always, on how it’s going.

Posted in Gratitude, Living in the Moment | Leave a comment

Lessons in Gratitude Day 615

Posted on March 20, 2013 by mtchamblee

Tonight I will offer simple gratitude. There are days when my energy level is such that conveying coherently the sentiments I want to express is a real challenge. At these times I like to keep it simple, sharing a few thoughts about various random things I am grateful for.

I am grateful for traveling mercies, I truly am. Every day I get on the highway to travel my 26.4 miles down to work and 25.3 miles back and the angels protect me as I drive. If they don’t, God or Somebody does. Tonight as I drove home I got so tired about 40 minutes into the drive that I started praying and prayed the entire rest of the way home (another half hour). I rarely drive sleepy; I have on a few occasions and I did this evening.

I am grateful for old, old friends. This evening I ran across a photo that had been posted on Facebook of a childhood friend and his family from the 1960s. There was my friend, clearly the oldest of a brood of about nine children–siblings and cousins–who had gathered for a grinning group photo. Childhood friends, particularly the ones who are still in your life, can be real treasures. There are a handful of families that our family was friends with–our parents were friends and we kids grew up together, playing, going on camping trips together, and spending a lot of time in each others’ lives.

As our families have all grown older–most of us have families of our own now–it was a matter of time that we would begin losing our parents. I learned this morning that one of “our” mothers died this morning. She had been seriously ill for some months, and while this was not unexpected that doesn’t mean we were ready for it either. My mother was ill during this same time of year nearly 18 years ago, and no matter how serious I knew the illness to be, no matter how I’d faced the possibility of her death, I was still not prepared to get the call that told me she had died. The same was true of my father’s death, though I was sightly more prepared for that. I offered prayers when I’d heard about our friend who had died and her children with whom I played when we were children. Her daughter had been reading this blog to her during long days in the hospital. I was happy to hear that they both found value in reflecting on the blessings in their lives for which they were grateful. I like to think that perhaps my mother greeted this old friend when she got there, wherever “there” is, in that place where there is no more pain. May it be so.

I am grateful that sometimes God watches out for us even, and perhaps especially when we are not watching out for ourselves. I am going to take my rest now and see if I can begin to get more and better quality of sleep. I want to make some adjustments in my routine that will help me improve my overall health and wellbeing. My plan is to enlist help with this from one ore more of my sisters. We shall see how that goes. In the meantime I will continue as best I can to take those actions–even small micro changes–that move me in the direction I want to go. Small steps are steps nonetheless. So I will keep at it and continue to express gratitude each day for the many blessings in my life.

Posted in Gratitude, Simple Blessings/Gratitude | Leave a comment

Lessons in Gratitude Day 614

Posted on March 19, 2013 by mtchamblee

I have to laugh at myself sometimes, I really do. Or perhaps just smile. I reach these places of deepened understanding, have flashes of wisdom and occasional insights into the mysteries of life, experience moments of remarkable clarity and then, it passes, and I am my regular self again. Of course I do not go fully back to my “regular” self; I start from a new place in which I have begun weaving the strands of my new insight(s) into my daily life. So what I am learning about dealing with fear and anxiety that I wrote about yesterday is already operating in ways seen and unseen. As I wrote more about it in my journal this morning I gained even greater understanding from the writing process, though at this moment I still have a way to go in being able to articulate it well.

Part of what I am learning as I continue working with fears and anxieties is how to let go of trying to figure out and control everything. The sooner I understand that how few things I can actually control,  the calmer and less stressful my life is going to be. If I can stop being so attached to the various “what ifs” that I envision as my mind spins out various scenarios of all the bad things that can happen if I pursue a particular course of action, I will have accomplished a significant feat and well on my way to reducing the degree of self-inflicted suffering I endure. When I think about the things I most greatly fear–my top fear being the death of a loved one–weighing that against some of the relatively trivial things I worry about helps me to quickly put things into perspective. When I ask myself what’s the worst that can happen and allow myself to go there, the worst is more likely to create discomfort than be catastrophic. Letting go of the fear becomes a bit easier with perspective.

I am also learning is to treat myself with great compassion–my challenges and triumphs, my times of confusion and frustration, as well as those calm and focused moments. All the myriad parts of myself about which I tend to be judgmental and hypercritical all need to be held with gentleness and compassion. Lest I need to figure out how to do this, I need only think about how I would approach a young child who is exploring and learning about the world around her: I would not berate her for her lack of understanding of how things work or chastise her for being lazy or having a poor work ethic. I wouldn’t yell at a toddler for her failure to grasp a particular idea or concept. I’d pick her up if she fell down, help her reach a toy that is out of reach, I’d help her feed herself rather than expect that she will take care of all her own needs. I would reach out to her with great love, tenderness, and patience. Why can I not seem to do that for myself?

I have been working for quite a long while on developing compassion for the people around me. In some of the volunteer work I’ve done, in the ways I have reached out to people over the years, I have sought to approach others with as open heart as possible with a desire to understand, connect with, and serve them. I’ve also expended significant amounts of time and energy to develop appreciation, respect, and compassion for people who might be considered antagonists and “enemies.” In some spiritual practices you offer prayers, kind wishes, good thoughts, etc. not only for your family and friends and loved ones, but also for acquaintances, strangers, and “enemies.” Virtually every day I offer lovingkindness–statements of wishes of goodwill–for people with whom I experience struggles and difficulties. Sometimes I simply pray for my “enemies” in general terms and at others I call people out by name.

My goal in all of this is to operate in all I do, as best I can, from a place of compassion and love. This perhaps sounds very corny and religious and pseudo-something, but I believe it is possible and that I’m moving in that direction. I am grateful for the insights I am gaining along the way. Sometimes I have to work hard to approach some people and situations with love and compassion; I get mired in personalities and egos, frustrated with folks for what I consider their failures to be understanding and considerate of the people around them (why should I work so hard to be compassionate to them when they’re not doing the same for me and others?) I am grateful to be taking on this goal at this time in my life. It is exactly where I want and need to be putting my energy and attention. I still have a lot of work to do in both of these areas–dealing with my fears and deepening my compassion for others and for myself. But I am making progress. And for that I am most definitely grateful.

Posted in Compassion, Gratitude | Leave a comment

Lessons in Gratitude Day 613

Posted on March 18, 2013 by mtchamblee

Sometimes the fear of the thing is greater than the thing itself. This is a phrase I use often in talking with a variety of people in a variety of settings. The gist of it is this: sometimes I get myself all worked up and anxious about something I have to do that has the potential to go badly. I fuss and fret, wringing virtual, metaphorical hands as I prepare myself for this event, playing out what I was going to say or do and what the other person would do in reaction, spinning out stories and scenarios until I’m filled with dread. Then the event I’ve been anticipating comes; and while it often isn’t pleasant, whatever I had imagined would happen turns out to be far worse than the reality of what actually occurs. Paradoxically, as it turns out, it’s been the things that I haven’t expected, that have hit me out of the blue that turned out to be much worse.

The other day I had a conversation with a person whom I had to give some difficult information that I wasn’t entirely sure how he would take it. I grew up being very conflict-averse and had no interest in delivering “bad news” to this individual. I was worried he wouldn’t take it well and I’d find myself in a difficult predicament if I couldn’t find a way to talk with him. Though I hadn’t allowed myself to get into a full-blown tizzy about the conversation, I was still a bit nervous going into it. In the end I decided to be myself, do my best, and offer my input from as helpful a space as possible. Fortunately, he received it in the spirit in which it was intended and was able to take in what I had said and be helped by it. I still have some work to do in reporting the outcome of that conversation to another person who is waiting to hear from me about how it went. So in that sense it isn’t quite over yet, not until I close that loop. But all things considered, I’d made it far worse in my mind than it was in reality.

I have been thinking a lot about what frightens me, makes me lie awake at night fretting, or wake too early in the morning with my mind reeling. I realize that much of what I’m afraid of is of relatively little importance in the greater scheme of things. When I look back on some of my life experiences that caused me the greatest pain or difficulty, they make some of the things I’m sweating over now look very minor in comparison. I am just now coming to understand Richard Carlson’s advice, “Don’t sweat the small stuff…and it’s all small stuff.”

This is one of those nights when I’m not fully articulating the message I want to get across. I guess I would say this, that when I think about my greatest fears–the things that really could keep me awake at night, striking terror into my heart–very few of them are connected to the small stuff that troubles me now. Don’t get me wrong, the “small stuff” sometimes brings unpleasantness and discomfort into my life and in that regard are often things I’d rather avoid than endure. But in the scheme of things, they are not the kind of life-altering events that my vivid imagination makes them out to be. I am grateful to be reaching this realization.

A couple of years ago I took a class on mindfulness-based approaches for dealing with depression and one of the key factors in contributing to a depressed state was what the instructor referred to as “catastrophic thinking.” This is when the mind spins out all kinds of terrible scenarios that could befall you if certain things were to happen. It usually starts out as something small, but by the time your mind gets involved and your imagination runs wild, you’ve built it up into an insurmountable obstacle that drags you into all kinds of unnecessary drama. The fear of the thing is greater than the thing itself. The key is for me to see this thing for what it is and not make it any bigger or more dramatic than it really is. And while that’s easier said than done, it is definitely worth the effort.

When my kids were little they used to be afraid of the grim reaper, yes, the tall, bony, figure shrouded in a dark, hooded robe carrying a massive scythe. They’d seen it on television and it had freaked them out. One night as I sat at my son’s bedside, his dark brown eyes wide with worry that the grim reaper might come pay him a visit, I walked him through a visualization (at the time it took the form of a story). “Imagine the grim reaper is standing there,” I told him, being sure to hold his little hand so he knew I was right there and he wasn’t facing the GR (as we called it) alone. “And as he approaches you he reaches up his bony hand and pulls back that black hood. And underneath it is a beautiful, bright light with the face of an angel looking down at you.  It isn’t scary at all, it turns out that there’s really an angel underneath.” Somehow, at least for that little while, the grim reaper had been transformed from this fearful creature to a being of beauty and love.

I need to remember that when I am confronting the various “grim reapers” of my life that I similarly transform them from what I’ve made them up to be into what they really are–that I can see those things that seem so difficult, so frightening and catastrophic in a completely different light. I am grateful to be coming to this realization. The things I face in my life these days are challenging in their own ways, to be sure and yet the same mind that could spin out stories that make these experiences worse than they really are can also be harnessed to transform those difficulties into angels. For that I am exceedingly grateful.

Posted in Gratitude, Overcoming Fear | Leave a comment

Lessons in Gratitude Day 612

Posted on March 17, 2013 by mtchamblee

Today I am aware of many thoughts and ideas swirling in my head, percolating in my spirit. As sometimes happens, zeroing in on one and holding it still long enough to write about it can be challenging. It’s a bit like wrangling cattle, trying to separate an animal from the herd so you can provide medical treatment or move it to a different location. I am trying to sort from a number of different things, and as you are reading along, I reckon you’re sorting with me.

The other evening I wrote about what I called seasonal grieving–when feelings of sadness recur each year around anniversaries of certain traumatic events. While I was grateful for understanding the source of some of the sadness I’d been feeling, I still feel the sadness nonetheless. I am delighted by the “ah ha” and yet affected by the “oh me.” Nevertheless I am still glad to understand where the feelings are coming from.

Two years ago today (Saint Patrick’s Day, 2011) I got blindsided by one of the most painful experiences I’ve endured in many, many years. To this day it is something I can only talk about with family and a few close friends who knew what happened and helped me through it. The affects of the trauma are still very real to me today. Let me be clear that I was not a victim of a crime or some physical violence against my person; but it was more so emotional battering by people I’d expected better from. The feeling of helplessness as the situation unraveled and the speed at which everything happened left me reeling for quite some time. As I now ponder the notion of seasonal grief, I am very much aware of today’s anniversary and the emotional impact that the precipitating event still has on me two years removed.

BUT…I am grateful to be standing strong in spite of the aftereffects of the dramas and traumas of the first half of 2011. I am still recovering a sense of equanimity and peace: each and every square inch of ground I’ve gained has been hard fought, but won. I have more ground to make up, but I’m progressing steadily if slowly. This isn’t a sprint, it’s an endurance race, and I’ve fallen a few times along the way. And, I’ve gotten back up, brushed the gravel off my scraped up knees and hands, and gotten back into the race. You can too.

Everywhere I look it seems like people are struggling, suffering in one way or another. My friend came over to see me the other day–she needed to run away from home for a little while and be someplace where she didn’t have to pretend to be fine. She could be cranky if she needed to and she let me be cranky if I needed to. We were able to talk a little and though we didn’t solve anything I hope she at least benefited from being in the space. I am glad to have been able to provide that space for her and told her she could avail herself of it any time. It’s about being safe and held and protected by someone who loves you for exactly who you are on the inside–your heart and spirit–and lets you yell or cry or even throw things if you need to (though my friend probably wouldn’t want to do something so out of control…) And then we can laugh about the absurdity of it all. We all need spaces like that in our lives, I know I do and will take advantage of it when offered.

I hear stories from various friends and family about how things seem to be difficult right now, almost unexplainable, unusual struggles. There’s some comfort in there because I believe that we’re hurtling toward change; not some cataclysmic event, but a shifting from a place of struggle and suffering to an easing into something better. I am not entirely sure why I believe this–perhaps I am simply unwilling to accept that good people who are doing good work trying to care for themselves, their families, and their communities have to struggle so hard. Something has to break forth, soon.

I am grateful for the events that took place two years ago today. The deep pain of that day has not gone completely away, though it has diminished. Something strong was forged in the fires of that experience that will be part of me for the rest of my life, and that is a good thing. It is good to be able to stay, “I’m still standing.” I might be a little wobbly, but once I struggled to my feet, I stood and I’ll keep standing. And you will too. Here’s my hand…

Posted in Gratitude, Grief, Overcoming Challenges, Perseverance, Suffering | Leave a comment