Self-Care and The Important Follow-On Question

As with so many, the fallout from the pandemic spurred me into taking what action I could to ease suffering – at personal expense.

Serious mental, emotional, and eventually physical burn-out.

Hitting a wall I elected to do something that would have appalled my corporate self.

Gasp!  Self-Care

To put in perspective, my primary influences growing up came from the Greatest Generation.

World War II Vets and war brides.

You didn’t complain.

Grit and heart and self-sacrifice for the greater good won the day.

This is the philosophy that underpinned my decades as a woman in the male dominated field of tech.

Eons before the Me-Too movement.

The idea of self-care was akin to betrayal.

Selfish!

And so it went.

By the end of 2022 even I was coming to see if I didn’t do something my health was going to deteriorate to the point I couldn’t recover.

Okay, so Now What?

I didn’t make the decision for self-care so much as God made it for me.

My life literally ground to a halt and I wound up in the ER.

In the days that followed it occurred to me that in order to heal I would have to sacrifice something that was an indelible part of my life.

My writing career.

When I wound up in the ER a second time after a test result came back suspicious I knew that in spite of the fact I’d wanted to be a writer from the time I was three, trying to pull up energy reserves to continue might be dire indeed.

Nothing like waking to a call at 7am telling you to get to the hospital immediately because of a number on a blood draw.

A Warning.

The follow-up tests showed I was fine.

Thank God.

I raised the white flag and informed my family that for the foreseeable future I would no longer be writing.

Or doing anything that would take precious energy needed for my recovery.

Selfish.

But first I had to get past the philosophy that putting myself first was selfish.

Thank God for the more modern philosophy that points out – wisely – if you aren’t there for yourself you can’t be there for those you love let alone anyone else.

Repeat after me:  Self-care is NOT being selfish!

I spent months focused on recovery even as I tried to be there for those who needed me.

I’m grateful for family and friends who were there for me when they too were trying to pick up their lives from various – and not always Covid related – challenges.

Part of self-care included daily walks.

Starting at a little under 2 I was soon walking 6 miles a day 7 days a week.

For months the only thought I could identify was “What was the license number of that truck?”

Anything deeper got me into a world of hurt.

Extended members of the family were a bit disconcerted.

“What’s with -?”

Giving the most basic of answers I put my head down and foot to the pavement.

Walking cold or heat, rain, sleet, or shine.

It was months before I could muster up the energy to utter – even mentally – the all-important follow-on question.

What’s Next?

I knew I wasn’t going back to corporate.

Hell I wasn’t healthy enough to do much – outside walking – but sit my butt on a couch.  I couldn’t commit to an employer let alone a customer!

Is that a Ray of – SUN?

Or is it hope?

One day while walking I considered that I really did want to write again.

It’s all I’d ever dreamed of doing from the time I was 3.

I also knew I was in no condition to even try.

The mere thought caused serious mental pain.

It was out of my hands.

I turned it over to God.

I also acknowledged that I may never be able to go back to writing.

Though that rubbed against another philosophy I was raised with which was God never put a dream in your heart He didn’t give you the means to achieve.

It’s a weird place living in the twilight of a dream shredded beyond recognition.

You’re so tangled in the confusion and pain of the idea of never again doing something you loved – that had been living inside of you since you could first put crayon to construction paper – you can’t give voice to the fear

The horror.

Not even to those who love you and want you to not hurt.

I couldn’t voice the fear even as I was willing to give it up forever if that’s what it took to make me whole again.

A Way Forward.

It’s early in the process and I’m taking it in baby steps but I intend to resurrect my dream.

As God wills it as my dear cousin likes to say.

I intend to tap the dream to be a writer to follow my passion.

Making the world a better place.

Stay tuned.

Manifesting 101: Be Careful What You Wish For

Note: Longer post.

Be Careful What You Wish For

This maxim has taken on new meaning for me of late.

I love finding fun ways to use my last name in writing…

It all started with my hair.

Note:  I had a very interesting upbringing filled with some very interesting characters including more than one whose perspective and values were questionable.  These people and experiences shaped the events of my life giving me perspective.  I know where I came from and how it shaped me.  If it’s crazy or outrageous I generally – at this point – just roll my eyes. I’m sharing what I believe helpful – in this case – for manifesting.

Like many of my Celtic relatives and ancestors, I’m a towhead.  In my case, not only was my hair very blonde as a child, it was poker straight as it hung down to my waist.

At least it did til the brain surgery when half was shaved off and my dad cut the other half so it would grow in symmetrically.

Around the age of 7 a couple of relatives decided I should perm my hair.

Because, they said, it would make me prettier.

My mom and dad weren’t thrilled with the idea but these relatives cajoled 

One of them threatened

Until they gave in.

Pick and choose your battles was a maxim my father preached even if it fell under the “do as I say not as I do” maxim.

I well remember sitting in the kitchen of one of the relatives and being submitted to the most noxious chemical odors of a home perm in the name of making me prettier.  I’ll admit I did like the perm and the curls.

Until I went to school and was brutally roasted by the other kids for them.

Eventually the perm grew out and I managed to avoid any more until deciding on my own at 13 I wanted one.

The years went by and though I generally styled my hair with the times

Good ol’ 80s mullets

I didn’t think much about perms and curly hair.

Unlike my goofy relative who continued to tell me I would be much prettier if only I had curly hair.**

Your Wish is My Command.

Then a curious thing happened.  

I was working in tech and straight hair a la Michelle Pfeiffer in Tequila Sunrise was all the rage.  I, however, wasn’t sold.  More often than not I just pulled my hair up.  

Hauling round VJ290s and MicroVAXes and crawling around in data centers laying cable and troubleshooting isn’t conducive to much in the way of fancy hair styles.

A Consultant’s Work is Never Done.

It was the Golden Age of Tech and I was living on planes.  

Flying out Sunday or Monday, back Friday or Saturday, then out again Sunday or Monday – for months straight.

Wouldn’t It Be Cool…?

Famous last words.

I loved the movie Tequila Sunrise for a number of reasons, including that it was set in So Cal, a place I loved.  I admired Michelle Pfieffer but didn’t envy her hair.  In point of fact, I thought it really would be cool if I had hair that was curly.

It ran in the family so I knew I could have had it.

Next thing I know I’m living in California.

Job transfer.

You’re Kidding.

Foot Locker thickens the plot.

Needing new tennis shoes I headed to Foothills Mall where I stopped at Foot Locker.

Don’t think it’s there anymore.

As I was checking out, the woman helping me slipped a sample of Pantene shampoo and conditioner into the box.  

When I pointed out it was for curly hair I didn’t have she shrugged and said, “So? It’s free.”

Um, Aaron?  

You aren’t going to believe this…

After towel drying my hair I looked in the mirror to see…

???

Curly hair!

I phoned Aaron and told him the deal.

I couldn’t believe it!  

Could shampoo really make someone’s hair curly?

Something in the Water.

Without going into it, since I already have in a number of books on various aspects, the mineral content in the water released my naturally curly hair.

Whereas calcium in the water in Michigan kept them straight.

What You Wish For.

The water may have unlocked the curl in my hair but it was also contaminated with heavy metals that wreaked havoc with my health and while I’ve addressed that issue I’ve been left with a glaring truth:

When you manifest you have to be prepared for what goes with it.

The positive is I now consider – as fully as I can – what may be involved if I get what I say I want.

I examine, to the best of my ability, the trade-offs.

To a degree we can never know what it’s like until we’ve been there but I believe I’m wiser now about what I aspire to.

I hope by sharing this story others can benefit.

Be well.

** When my hair darkened in my towheaded adolescence this relative kept trying to get me to dye it blonde because – apparently – I was no longer pretty.

Some people and their oddball values.