Monday, December 30, 2013

Self-care: Take a Cue From Nike and Just Do It.

For those of you pining for a Disneyland/beach trip recap, that will come in a future post, but of course with some kind of a mildly amusing, yet useful spin.  For now it's in the "To Be Continued" file folder.




Just know that if you follow me on Facebook, you saw a small glimpse of the highlights, but I spared you the trauma of driving 32 hours round-trip with kids in the car who get on each others nerves at the mere thought of being in the same room. Together. Possibly breathing the same air with knees touching. Good times.

The good news is that the hard parts, like in pregnancy and giving birth, are eventually lost in a fog of forgotten memories. What's left behind are the pictures of smiling faces, mouse ears with names embroidered on the back, and seashells gathered from the most splendid beach.



We have just a few more days until the start of a brand spankin' new year.  If you haven't seen it already, people are scheming and sharing their goals, their new aspirations for the year, their resolutions.  For the record, I NEVER make New Year's resolutions.  Never.  It's a total set-up for disappointment and failure, quite frankly.  This lack of optimism may be surprising to you, but let me explain.  I prefer to make smaller course corrections throughout the year.  Lasting change comes that way, just like in effective weight loss, gaining better fitness, or increasing your savings account.  Small consistent changes do the trick with infinitely better and more permanent results.



What I DO believe in and do at the start of each new year is to PLAN for joy.  In my last post, I shared just a few adventures that have brought me pure, unadulterated joy in my life.  I love being outside and doing something adventurous, but in order for those kinds of things to take place, I have to make a plan or it just won't happen.  

I love lists and they have to be even numbered:)  Humor my slightly OCD moment, please.  This is how my agenda looks so far:

1. snowshoeing on Mt. Hood and convince some maniacs to snow camp with me
2. start yoga and add TRX training back into my routine
3. hike in Yosemite
4. white water rafting twice
5. run the NW Passage Ragnar relay
6. take a group of 12 to hike/climb Mt. St. Helens
7. backpacking in the Olympic National Park or in Mt. Rainier National Park
8. plan/execute year 4 of 'Couve to Coast and our annual Labor Day weekend Oregon coast beach trip
9. a possible family reunion in Mexico
10. find something totally new to try, perhaps a little kayaking or stand up paddle boarding on the Columbia River

Just typing it out to read makes me giddy. Doing this is a way that I give myself the gift of self-care.  Wait, did I just drag you unsuspectingly into the world of "self-help?"  Yup.  You betcha.  We are all responsible for our own happiness.  Sitting around waiting for good things to happen and land in our laps is foolishness.  We're suffering from a good bout of entitlement if we whine and complain about our circumstances and do absolutely nothing about it.

Make a plan and do something.


 

For those of you that are or have been young moms, do you experience or remember that feeling of losing yourself?  Have you woken up one day out of the fog of sleepless nights and teething toddlers trying to remember who the heck you are and what exactly is it that you liked to do in a world before nap-times and cutting food up into bite-sized bits?  Perhaps you've been a care-giver to a person with an illness or perhaps some other circumstance that has required all that you have and all that you are to be sacrificed in the name of a worthy and necessary cause.  We have or will at some time find ourselves in this perfect storm.  It's an essential environment for personal growth--learning such sacrifice is absolutely critical for personal development, but with all things, it needs to be balanced.

I see all too often those of you (mothers especially) generous, kind, self-sacrificing folk needing a good dose of self-care.  It almost sounds like a four letter word, doesn't it?  Especially if you come from a religious environment that praises self-sacrifice and losing oneself in the service of others, this concept may sound selfish and radical and maybe even sinful at best.

Don't get me wrong, I haven't lost my mind nor have I jumped ship--those of you that have served with me in many capacities over the years know that I am a firm supporter of the value of sacrifice and service. It's woven into what makes me Arianna.

Because I come to you with first-hand experience and eye witness accounts, trust me when I tell you that anything, ANYTHING to an extreme is harmful. Yes, even service and sacrifice.

I came across a beautiful analogy that explains just why taking time to manage your own joy and essentials for happiness is important and necessary.  It comes from a blog post that I found to be a thought-provoking and essential read for those of you that battle guilt and struggle with making time for yourself and filling your metaphorical cup.  The author is a Christian pastor who described how he was doing all the "right things" like paying tithes, ministering to others, praying daily and yet found himself in a state of unexplained depression and exhaustion.  Here is what he discovered.  It is truth.

"When I was headed into my burnout phase, but before I really hit bottom, I went to a pastors' retreat. During a worship time an image came to me of a huge river. The river was the love and grace of God. It was deep and wide, and it was flowing, so there was no way you could ever use it up. And the banks of the river were full of people who were thirsty. In that image I saw myself running down to the river, filling up cups with water, and then running back to shore to give the cups to people who were thirsty. That was my job, but I knew it wasn't working. I was just getting tired. And the thirsty people were still thirsty no matter how fast I ran back and forth to the river. However, I resisted the idea that something was wrong. I even had a little argument with God, in which I insisted that those people were going to die of thirst if someone didn't take them some water. 
 
It was then that I had a revelation: If I waded out into the water and started drinking because I was thirsty, then people who wanted to drink would see that and know where to get water themselves. Of course, it is so obvious now that it seems silly to say it, but it was a completely radical concept to me. You mean I was just supposed to drink, myself? To get my own need for spiritual refreshment filled? Was that my job? 

Thinking that our job is to carry water for other people is a direct reflection of the JOY mentality. Some of us were raised with this. The idea is that J-O-Y comes from putting Jesus first, Others second and Yourself last. That's what I was doing. Because I loved Jesus I was committed to carrying water to the thirsty. I didn't have time to notice whether I was thirsty. My job was to carry water as fast as I could. I now have a completely different belief about where joy comes from. The image I have is of a water fountain made of a stack of bowls. At the top is a bowl that fills with water, which then spills out to fill the bowls under it. The bowl at the top is me. God wants to fill that top bowl until it overflows. And when it's full, it begins to overflow into other people's lives. I can give out of abundance, but not out of need. I don't need to deprive myself in order to give to others. The kingdom of God is not about scarcity. Out of our abundance we can share with others. That's a whole different approach to life."

I have to admit that when I read this passage, I sat in silence mulling it over for a bit.  It was pure, inspired genius and it described so many scenarios that I had seen in my own life and that of so many others. I especially loved the imagery of God's grace flowing to others through us, but only in abundance when we have first taken the time to nourish ourselves.  Kind of sounds like putting the oxygen mask on ourselves before doing so for others on an airplane.  It reminds me of the passage in the book of Luke 22:32 that teaches us that we are to go out and strengthen others after we have done so for ourselves.

For those of you that need a little more assurance that making the choice to fill your cup is kosher, I'll refer you to the life of Christ.  In multiple instances in the New Testament, we find the Savior taking time alone in nature, away from his disciples and from people whom he loved and served in order to recharge his own batteries.  We see it it here, here, and here.

Now there are some of you that actually need a good cattle prodding in the direction that screams, "Pull your head out of your indifferent or self-absorbed world and help others!" but most of you (and me) need some coaching on being better and more attentive to refilling our own cups, bowls, and buckets. Thus, the need to better understand what self-care looks like in our lives, so let's chat about that for a minute.

In an article from the magazine Psychology Today, we learn what self-care is NOT:

Self-care is not self-pampering - not that there's anything wrong with self-pampering - pedicures, dark chocolates, and other luxuries.  That is, as long as you can afford luxuries.  Spending money that you don't have is self-indulgence.
     
Self-care is not self-indulgence.  Popularly, the terms self-care and self-indulgence are used interchangeably, as in "Oh, go ahead, indulge.  You deserve it."  We tell ourselves that we are practicing self-care when, in fact, we are engaging in self-indulgence.  Self-indulgence is characterized by avoidance of the effortful and substitution of quick and easy antidotes.  We tell ourselves that the stresses of the day have drained our energy and that vegging on the sofa with a quart of ice cream is all we can expect of ourselves.  Rather than shouldering the hard work of self-care, we settle for temporary and largely symbolic fixes - some of which actually stress our systems further.

Here is what self-care IS...

It's going to look different for everyone based on preference, state of mind, and place in life, but it comprises taking care of one's self physically, emotionally, and spiritually DAILY.

I have a perfected recipe that I'm going to share.  It looks like this:

1. wake-up early, before the world--savor that quiet time and thank God for a brand new start
2. take 10-30 min. to read from scripture or other inspired words of God--life changing.  Don't knock until you try it. 
3. exercise--everyone can do something!
4. take time to think, ponder, meditate  (while exercising in order to multitask, if necessary)
5. visualize your day--map it out, prioritize, make room for something to look forward to

Once those basics are in place, it's my experience that you'll then be better able to discern what other self-care measures are needed in your life for your particular needs.  Those might be learning to say "no" and learning to say "yes," setting boundaries, simplifying, making sure that you stop to eat lunch or get dressed for the day (even if you have no where to go), doing things that truly replenish and are not just time killers, liking yourself more, etc. 

These are just a few.  If you need more inspiration, the internet is abounding!  And it's from my experience that if you really want to know what areas need the most tender care, God will help you to see them.  Just ask, but be prepared to do some work.

In addition, a great list is floating around the internet about what mentally strong people do which I find closely tied to this topic. I love it! Access it here.

Dear readers, please recognize that creating a good self-care routine takes time.  I certainly have not always practiced this daily plan--it took time to get to the point that it has become second nature.  I simply focused on one small change at a time.  If you'd like some tips on making a plan to make this happen in your life, I'd love to share them!  Just ask.  It's the best gift that I've been able to freely give to others and I find it joyful to pass on.

Regardless of what areas you decide this year might need improving in your life, remember these wise words:




Make a plan for self-care.  Go ahead.  Just do it!


~Arianna














Thursday, December 19, 2013

Suprised By Joy

I love C.S. Lewis.  He's been gone for 50 years now, but every time that I read from his writings, I feel like I've found a long, lost old friend.  What I find beautiful is his journey in how he came to be the man that we "see" and know him to be--the wise scholar, the practical Christian theologian, the author of stories and analogies that teach about God and His workings in our lives (oh, and all of those uber popular children's books that he also managed to produce).  

What many casual readers may never realize is that he spent much of his life an atheist, resisting the very concepts and Being that he so fully embraced and devoted himself to the latter part of his life.  He lead a life much like all of ours in that the challenges and losses that he faced were the very things that brought him to an understanding of why we even exist on this planet in the first place. (If you're still wondering about who YOU are and why you're here, check this link out when you have time.)

 And now back to joy.

  
Do you remember that C.S. Lewis quote that I shared a few weeks ago about finding Joy?  He described it in a book titled The Problem of Pain and in his autobiography, which is the namesake of this post, entitled Surprised By Joy.  It's worth a read, so have a looksie, will you?

You may have noticed that the books you really love are bound together by a secret thread. You know very well what is the common quality that makes you love them, though you cannot put it into words: but most of your friends do not see it at all, and often wonder why, liking this, you should also like that. Again, you have stood before some landscape, which seems to embody what you have been looking for all your life; and then turned to the friend at your side who appears to be seeing what you saw – but at the first words a gulf yawns between you, and you realize that this landscape means something totally different to him, that he is pursuing an alien vision and cares nothing for the ineffable suggestion by which you are transported. 

Even in your hobbies, has there not always been some secret attraction which the others are curiously ignorant of – something, not to be identified with, but always on the verge of breaking through, the smell of cut wood in the workshop or the clap-clap of water against the boat’s side? Are not all lifelong friendships born at the moment when at last you meet another human being who has some inkling (but faint and uncertain even in the best) of that something which you were born desiring, and which, beneath the flux of other desires and in all the momentary silences between the louder passions, night and day, year by year, from childhood to old age, you are looking for, watching for, listening for? You have never had it. All the things that have ever deeply possessed your soul have been but hints of it – tantalizing glimpses, promises never quite fulfilled, echoes that died away just as they caught your ear. But if it should really become manifest – if there ever came an echo that did not die away but swelled into the sound itself – you would know it. Beyond all possibility of doubt you would say ‘Here at last is the thing I was made for.’

There are several meanings to this passage, but for this post's sake we'll focus on the most straightforward aspect--that of finding those activities and purposes in life that leave you fulfilled.  Once found, profound joy is discovered and you'll find yourself feeling like here at last is the thing you were made for.

Looking through the books that I own and the photos that I've saved, I see that secret binding thread that Lewis mentions.  Let me share a few of those photos.

Jeffre Lake Hike, Vancouver, BC:
Hands down THE most beautiful hike that I've ever done and I've been to some pretty spectacular places in my life.  This photo does no justice to the three aquamarine lakes that are traversed while on this trail, nor can you hear the cracking sounds of the glacier that you see in the middle of this shot, but I still can.  I can even still feel the mild fear that came from anticipating an unexpected encounter with any one of the hundreds of bears that call this particular Canadian heaven their home.

I hiked through alpine meadows, lush forests carpeted in the squishiest of mosses, and climbed to the base of that living, moving glacier.  Spectacular. Sadly, due to circumstances, I had to hike it solo.  The absolute splendor of it all brought me so much joy that day and for the rest of that trip.  What was missing was having someone there, step-in-step to share it with.  I needed to be able to share it in order for the joy to feel complete.  I did the next best thing...posted on Facebook.  Hahaha!


Country roads, Oregon, USA
Here I am on the course of our homegrown 100+ mile cycling ride called 'Couve to Coast, somewhere halfway between my house and the Oregon Coast.

There's something magical and carefree about having the wind whip past your face, covering miles of incredible surroundings and then fly down a hill at the speed of controlled recklessness.  Wanna feel like a little kid again?  Get on a bike.  Ride fast.

Cycling is a gift that was shared with me several years ago by another outdoor enthusiast.  I made the jump from mountain biking to road riding despite the nose wrinkling that most mtn. bikers typically make at such a thought.  Thank goodness I saw past that prejudice!  Because of someone sharing his passion, I benefited, and even more importantly, I've been able to share it with so many others and this has brought me joy.


Mt. Adams, OR.   This final shot was taken last year of a few fellow climbers on the side of Mt. Adams where I had the joy of taking a few friends to summit it.  Imagine the hardest hike that you've ever done while carrying the weight of a Kindergartener on your back and then trusting your life to an ice axe and crampons stuck into crusty mountain ice.  BLISS!!  WHoohoOO!  Serious thrill and exhilaration.  Then when you've dragged your carcass to the top and the adrenaline subsides, you can look across the world and look to your friends to have a moment of shared satisfaction and joy.  I can relive it just by looking at this picture!

I love taking people to beautiful places and to do hard things. Here is my nirvana, people.  Here is what I was made for.  I love looking for and sharing the beauty in doing hard things (and preferably in beautiful places, if possible.)But you know what?  I don't get to experience this joy in this kind of setting as much as I'd like to.  Not every week and definitely not everyday.  But that's okay.  I get to do a version of it at work, at home, and at church if I look real hard and if I think about what I do in those terms.  


So here's this week's challenge, fellow adventurers:  find what brings the kid out in you.  Is it music?  Is it creating art?  Is it teaching others?  Are you making time to actively pursue those joyful activities and are you seeing how that secret thread, as Lewis calls it, is bound in all of the many aspects of your life? You'll be happily surprised to find that joy if you go looking for it, recognize it, and plan to do more of it!

I look forward to hearing about what you've uncovered.  I hope that each of you is discovering what you were made for.

Until next time.

~Arianna


Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Legos and The Best Giver of Gifts

Hello again, dear readers.

As I sat in church on Sunday listening to the speaker that was addressing our congregation, I heard him mention a scripture that had been lodged in my mind for most of the week.  Do you remember how God likes to work with me?  I touched on it a bit in my post about Little Big Things.  

A phrase.  A word.  A verse.  

It varies, but it's all for the same purpose as it floats around in my mind over the course of a few days, weeks, or a month.  It makes itself known just enough that I start to notice it everywhere and in everything. 

And then the contemplating begins.

Over the course of the week, a verse was percolating in my mind which can be found in the book of Luke 11:11-13:

 11 If a son shall ask bread of any of you that is a father, will he give him a stone? or if he ask a fish, will he for a fish give him a serpent?

 12 Or if he shall ask an egg, will he offer him a scorpion?

 13 If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children: how much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him?
  
I would summarize that scripture, at least in the way that I was lead to think about it, as a reminder that our Father in Heaven is anxious to bless us, to be a giver of giftsThe best gifts. But do we do those things that allow us to receive them?  Do we keep our end of the bargain? And do we remember that it often comes down to timing and waiting?

I had an opportunity to think about that in a TRULY unfortunate circumstance involving two of my children this past week.  It involved Lego's and a hard lesson and perspective into how God must feel as He is parenting us.

Lego Castle
This has been THE most wanted gift of the year; THE only thing our son has really wanted without changing his mind one million and one times.  This is THE Lego castle of all Lego castle sets.  I was thrilled to find it with a significant price drop at Target and quickly bought it and stashed it well hidden in the back of the car.  Thanks to a ridiculous schedule lately (and some admitted procrastination), it sat there in the back of my car for a few days too long.   

RECAP OF THE PAST:  All kids (and us big folks too) struggle with waiting.  It's hard. It's really no fun and it takes practice, self-control and a whole lot of it.  It's especially hard for our son.  He even acknowledged a few weeks ago, out of the blue, that he was going to have to try harder this year at not ruining surprises and not go looking for Christmas gifts.

This guy has ruined many Christmas surprises for himself over the last few years. He has done just about everything to find his gifts and his sisters' and then would proceed to tell them what they were getting--a bit of a power play, in my opinion!  He even ate all of his advent calendar in the first week of December one year...and then moved on to his sister's and then his other sister's.  Let's just say that this kid struggles in huge ways with the concept of WAITING.

Now, it would be one thing if it just affected him, but it negatively affected his siblings and also took away our joy in giving the gifts since they were no longer a surprise to anyone.  We're talking a huge bummer for all involved thanks to his poor choices.

BACK TO THE PRESENT (no pun intended):  As soon as our "surprise-killer" made his announcement that he would try harder to control the urge to go present seeking this year, a plan raced into action.  We had to make the consequences significant enough to keep him from taking the house apart and not ruin Christmas for everyone.  A consequence was quickly attached:

"If you go looking too soon for your gifts, you will lose what you find."

Let's suffice it to say that I came around the corner of the yard the next day (again, remember, I had left the Lego gift--plus a few belonging to little sister--hidden in the back of my car) only to find son and little sister trying to duck ever so suspiciously under the car. Gifts had been seen.  Guilt was in the air.

BUSTED.  

When upon examination, my son did his very best legal maneuvering by stating that he had infact NOT been the one in the back of the car, but it had been his sister whom he had convinced to go and check for gifts.  He reasoned that since he hadn't technically been the one to look, but had guided his sister in doing so for him, he had not broken the "no look" rule and therefore was still entitled to receiving his gift.  (I'm seeing the legal profession or jail time in this kid's future.  Or both.)

Sadly for all of us, those gifts went back to the store for the both of them.  And sadly, the hell that I've had to pay as a result of following through on a consequence has made for a very unpleasant couple of weeks around here.  We'll skip the ugly details for joy's sake.

Let's return to the scripture that I introduced at the start. I think about how there are very real gifts that God would want to give us--things that we would want for ourselves.  If I, an imperfect parent, want so badly to be able to give gifts to my children, but they have done things that don't allow me to do so, oh how very sad it is.  It makes me reflect on how our Father must feel when we don't keep our commitments.  I just know that He is waiting and sometimes making us wait, as it often seems, to bestow upon us some hoped for joy, some answer to a pray.  There is a plan and a rhyme and reason to how and when those gifts come.




We have to do three things:  wait, trust, and keep our end of the bargain.

We read in scripture that "men are that they might have joy."  If you look in the footnotes, you'll find that joy is described there as the potential to become like our Heavenly Father.  Learning to sometimes say "no" or "not yet," to enforce consequences, to give or sadly withhold gifts are all parts of heavenly parenting that we learn and practice here in this life.  We are experiencing what it means to become like our Father while simultaneously learning about our Father.

This is the purpose of life afterall, to have joy-- to come to know God and become like Him one day .  What I know so far is that He loves a good surprise even more than you and I do.  He's the best gift-giver.  Just you wait and see. 


~Arianna















 




Tuesday, December 3, 2013

Ode to Fedora (and Joy)


If you've come to read this post with thoughts of fashion in mind, I'm going to disappoint you.  This isn't that kind of a blog.  Rather, this new fedora of mine is going to help introduce this month's blog theme in honor of Christmas.


JOYJOYJOYJOYJOY

We're talking JOY, people.  It's going to surround you this month in every shape, fashion, and form.

I've seen it in my neighbor's yard like this:
Photo credit: Etsy.com


I have it displayed in my piano room like this:

You'll hear it sung like this:



You may even feel a little bit of it in the giving and getting of it like this:

This month, we're going to venture into the world of joy and discover the who, what, when, where, why and how of this sometimes elusive emotion.  With this thorough approach, we're sure to make some English teacher very happy in the process and hopefully make you, my fellow adventurers, as well.

Last month's posts all seemed to revolve around little things, appreciating the good with the bad, and finding the blessings in all experiences.  Joy is an element closely intertwined in all of those concepts.  What allows this emotion to surface is the defining act of CHOICE.  An action, a decision, a "just do it" sort of resolution.




So, back to my fedora.


I came home with my new hat the other day and received some mixed reviews from the family.  The fedora took them a little off guard and even generated some remarks referencing Michael Jackson.  My smile dropped down low for just a bit.  My little moment of joy deflated when some of the people closest to me were not quite approving.  

I even blurted out loud that I wasn't going to wear it since it was going to garner such disapproval.  But after a few minutes, I recanted and CHOSE to regain that small sense of joy again.  I liked my fedora.  I had wanted one for quite some time and CHOSE to buy it and I would CHOOSE to wear it and not worry if it didn't float anyone's boat but my own.

I wore it on Saturday and got quite a reaction in Home Depot, of all places.  Apparently, people who shop for home construction items have a fabulous sense of style and love a good fedora!  Go figure.

I wore this spiffy new little hat to church on Sunday and who would've guessed that it would have sparked such a controversy.  People either loved it or hated it and weren't afraid to say so. To my face.  To my husband's face.  Oh brother.  It's a hat for crying out loud.

As you can see, my emotions could have taken a real roller coaster ride over the course of the weekend if I let the opinions of others invade my small sense of joy regarding this fedora.  I could have become self-conscious or paranoid or angry or frustrated or deflated or...etc., etc.  But I didn't--at least not long enough to let it keep me from putting it back on and liking everything about it in as wreckless and free sort of a way as one can be with a hat! 

My point is that I had to make a real conscious effort to CHOOSE JOY in this small experience. Therein lies the true JOY in this story--sure the fedora is great, but the act and ability to choose to stay joyful is the real prize .  This is clearly a superficial situation, but the concept applies to so very many instances in life.  So many of us limit our experiences because we're afraid of what others might think or say. We hold the opinions of others in higher regard than our own. We may be half-living in a tip-toeing fashion around others for fear of opinions and expectations that are not on par with ours. 

As we explore joy this month, we'll dive into C.S. Lewis a bit who wrote about Joy (he referenced it with a capital "J") and described finding it and having it feel like, "here at last is the thing I was made for."  Ooh, I'm so excited to dive into that topic!

We'll also climb into a little self-help and discuss self-care as it relates to joy.  Did you know that Jesus Christ practiced self-care?  Hold onto your hats--I'm even going to quote some biblical accounts that prove it to be so! His self-care (among other things, of course) is what allowed for him to cope on a mortal level and stay joyful in the face of so many afflictions and heartaches.

So, go on.  Go put on that fedora or whatever else you've been holding back on and choose JOY!

See you soon,

Arianna