Meditation

This week's concept in Melody Beattie's, 52 Weeks of Conscious Contact, is meditation.  The first thing I heard about meditation in the program was that prayer is talking to God and meditation is listening to God.  I liked the terminology.  Prayer sounds to me like begging.  Talking and listening is a conversation which doesn't require that I be on my best behavior or use the right language or not complain, etc.  I complain to God a lot - He/She doesn't seem to mind.  Right now I'm complaining about my problem with my leg.  I'm asking Him/Her if this is really something I'm going to have to put up with. 

Anyway... for a long time I enjoyed a comfortable meditation practice - had no trouble sitting for 20 minutes a day listening for God.  I noticed that whether it was God talking to me or my own mind, that when I was asking for guidance for that day, I got no messages about doing the dishes, pleasing my boss or what color my hair should be.  The messages were entirely about how I could be a channel for God's love and peace that day.  That sounds pretty lofty but it's the truth.  Since the wreck, I've not been able to re-establish a meditation practice.  I fidget at about 1 1/2 minutes and it keeps up until I finally give up.  What I know for sure though, is that I will keep trying because meditation has been unbelievably valuable in my life over the past 27 years.

Do Your Chores First

My grandmother told me when I was eleven or twelve years old, that I should do my chores first and then have fun.  That philosophy seemed so very right that I've held on to it for - what would that be - almost 60 years.  The thing is almost all of the fun I've had during that period of time has been done with a certain amount of guilt because I was pretty sure I wasn't entirely done with ALL the chores I needed to do.  I've decided that I'm not going to have that philsophy any more because of my endless to-do list.  I will either live forever and get my to-do list done some day or I'll die with part of it left feeling guilty.  Whatever fun there is in the after life would be polluted with guilt!  My new philosophy is that fun comes first.  When I'm done having fun, then I will do my chores.  This is absolutely important because at almost 70, I'm a little short of unpolluted-with-guilt fun and MUST catch up!

Update

I'm not going to run off in all directions trying to quickly solve the problem with my leg.  I'm going to get a second opinion and then see what I think.  This is a bad time to be doing surgery with the holidays coming up.  So I'm back on my crutches awaiting a call from both of my surgeons to see the results of my lab tests and see whether there's anyone they can refer me to for a second opinion. 

Heavy Heart

I've been avoiding the news for awhile now because it makes me want to cry.  The political scene is the saddest of my life.  It looks to me like people are prepared to do anything to get into office.  The only things I see right now are when I'm flipping channels on my way to something else, but apparently a little physical violence is starting to appear - inevitably.  And these are grown people who want to run the country!

As a problem solver, I'm constantly wondering what motivates people to do this stuff.  We humans are very flawed in a lot of ways and have been throughout the time we've been on the earth, apparently.  The only way I could even speculate what would cause this insanity is to try to picture what my motives would be if I were participating in this.  Since there was a time when I was doing what I call the "we're right and you're wrong and so you are evil and anything we think up to do to evil people is okay" thing, I was motived by fear and self-righteousness.  For me at least, at that time of my life, I felt crappy about myself and powerless to do anything about it.  Casting myself on the "right" side, and attacking those evil people, made me feel better.  Plus I felt like those evil people had the power and I had to fight like a banshee just to stay even.  Thank God, thanks to the program, I no longer feel that way and so get no pleasure from being on the "right" side.

I was brought up to be a racist but it didn't take.  I just didn't see the evidence for the belief that people other than white, Anglo-Saxon, protestants were bad.  But since that was how I grew up I think I can imagine what I would feel if a black president were elected.  I think I would be scared to death that he would do something to white people to get even.  There's a lot to get even for.  I think I would be scared to death that other black people would feel emboldened to do the same.  I think I would believe that it would be necessary to try to get the upper hand before that happened.  And once I noticed that scared white people would pretend to (or actually) believe pretty much anything if it made the president look evil and scary, I might go all out with a bunch of other crazy lies - like the legislator in Texas who says the Arabs are smuggling pregnant women into the US so that they can have their babies be American citizens and then take them back to the Arab world to be raised as terrorists.  Then, of course, when they're ready they can come back to the US because they will be citizens and blow us all up.  That's creative but....

I don't know.  I don't think I want to live to be a hundred so I can see how this comes out.  My friend, Gil, used to say that this crap would keep happening and get worse and worse until a significant number of humans on the planet had grown enough emotionally and intellectually so that they realized how crazy this shit is and how it has never in history made life any better for anybody.  So I guess I will just keep working on growing and helping other people grow.  It's the only thing I can think of to do.

Tone Down the Drama

Just got back from the hip doctor who doesn't think the problem I'm having is the hip that is being recalled.  He thinks the rest of the hardware is at fault and needs to be tinkered with.  So it appears I'll be having some out-patient surgery.  As I've known all along, the hip is fastened in in an odd way that causes the muscles to be strained.  Apparently that plus some loose wires are the actual problem.  So...

Doctor Appointment Tomorrow

Tomorrow at 9:15 I go see the hip doctor to see what will happen next.  I've already had an Xray and blood work when I went a couple of weeks ago to see Dr. Dreamy.  I'm betting I will have to have a ct scan, but maybe not.  I hope he will just believe my symptoms and get on with it (IT probably meaning surgery).  I don't want to wait.  If I have to wait I'm getting back in the wheelchair.  My fear is that when all this hardware is moving around it will break my femur that we waited four years to heal. 

I've stopped being amazed and amused, stopped being pissed, stopped being anxious.  Now I'm just back to what I've learned over and over:  God knows what he's doing and whatever happens, it will be a good thing for me.  I won't know what that is until after it's all over though.  In the meantime, I'm carrying on with my writing project and developing my budget for the next year. 

Tonight is the first meeting of the "fun club" at my house. This was an idea I had when a friend of mine was talking about the loss of a close friendship.  They did stuff together but no more.  It occurred to me that there are probably a bunch of us older gals in recovery that sit at home on Saturday night.  (I don't but they do.)  I could use some more company in my recreation life, so I suggested this.  A friend can't be replaced but new activities and people can help.

We're having a "baked potato" dinner (my idea - it's simple - no one has to cook) to "organize."  I'm of the mind that organizing is a waste of time - we could just decide what we want to do each week and invite people and then ask them for suggestions for future fun - but my friend is not comfortable with that lack of organization.  I do have a suggestion for a rule though (I guess that's organized) - no whining, no bitching.

I'm drawing the line at officers and minutes and a treasury though.  I'm out of there if that comes up!  I want pure, unadulterated fun without extraneous work-type stuff.  Like I always say, "Life is short; my time is running out.  I don't have time for anything except what's important and what is fun." I am very committed to this principle!

Garage Sales

I love garage sales. I especially love benefit garage sales.  I have had dozens of them to raise money for various projects for people with disabilities.  Ron used to beg me never to do it again, and I would promise, knowing I was lying.  The next time I had one, he would remind me that I had lied, and I would explain that this was just this one little exception and it was for a good cause...He usually forgave me, but once or twice he stayed mad and wouldn't help.

What I don't love is all the work involved which is why Ron hated them.  I counted on him to help, which he usually did.  However, as time went on, we became sloppier and sloppier about how we did them.  We didn't notice any dip in our proceeds though, which made us even sloppier still.  We no longer advertised them in the paper; we just put up signs on main streets - which we made ourselves (much cheaper and you can use atomic pink poster board, make HUGE signs and put them everywhere).  We didn't pick up stuff from the donors - they had to bring it themselves plus price it for us.  I refused men's clothes and most women's clothes unless they were designer clothes.

We only priced the really big items and sometimes not even them.  We put up a sign that said, "If there's not a price on it, ask us."  Then we could just give them a price based on how long the sale had been going on and how tired we were.  Everything else just went in piles on various table labeled, "Everything $5, $1, 50 cents and a quarter."  There were paper bags labeled, "$1.00 for everything in this bag."  Sometimes we didn't even put out tables - we just used cardboard boxes for tables and laid all the stuff on top of them.

For the past couple of days I've been helping with a benefit garage sale for a friend whose daughter has been selected to compete in the International Special Olympics in Greece this summer.  It's been an interesting experience.  I suggested that we do a garage sale so I thought I was in charge and was going to do it my way.  But she wasn't comfortable with the concept so she did it her way.  It was a lot of work for her and I doubt she made any more money than she would have by doing it the "Almost No-Work"  way.  But everyone was happy - she probably made enough to pay for about 25%  to 33% of her travel expenses (and going to Greece is not cheap) and it was a fun social occasion for friends.  We loved it.

So now I'm having dreams of having garage sales again.  I might be able to do it if I can find some help.  Of course I realize I'm going to have to see what shape I'm going to be in after they repossess (recall?) my hip.

Update

Yesterday a letter came from the surgeon who put in my artificial hip four years ago- it seems the manufacturer is recalling the hip because they are falling apart before they've been in five years.  I think that's probably the explanation for the problem I'm having with my hip and leg.  So next week I see that surgeon and see what happens next.  I  can't imagine there's anything they can do about it except replace this one with another one.  At first I just laughed because it seemed so ridiculous.  Now I'm just going "What!!!!  I'm not a car that can be brought in for service.  I have to go through a long surgery with a long rehab.  GRRRRR!"  I will come to terms with this in a few days but right now I am outraged plus amazed.

Prayer

When I first started talking to God again (I quit when I was 7 and God didn't answer), I asked for other people to change.  And that didn't happen.  Since I was pretty desperate and pretty convinced that the source of my unhappiness was the behavior of other people (I'm pretty sure I'm not alone in this), I kept asking anyway.  Finally, the teaching of the program sunk in and I realized I was the one that needed to change - not because it was my fault but because the happiness and peace that come from living life on life's terms is not variable - it works all the time! 
I learned to be quiet and ask myself what I needed and then I asked God for that.  Often it was love, approval, companionship, sufficient money, health, rest and so forth.  The problem I had was that I had selected certain people to provide those things and they were not coming through.  My dear friend Joanie, kept reminding me that God was my source, not people.  God would see to it I had what I needed, even though I would not always have what I wanted.  And sure enough when I started noticing, I have always had what I needed - just not from the sources I expected it. 

Ahhh.  Peace.

Wash the Car in the Rain

I promised myself that once I felt like I was healed as much as possible, I would go on a budget.  I delayed as long as I could but finally believed it was time.  So, I'm cutting out the little expenditures like the $5.00 to run through a car wash.  I thought I would just try to get it done myself and see how it went.  It went great. 

The next time it rained, I thought that the rain might soften some of the dirt, making it easier to wash.  Once it had soaked awhile I dipped my carwashing sponge in a puddle (nice clean one on the driveway) and soaped up the car.  Then I rinsed my sponge in another puddle and wiped the car down.  It looked excellent.  So when it rains I wash the car.  The thing is it hasn't really rained during the day since I drove to Heart to Heart the second weekend in September.  I was starting to be embarrassed by how dirty my car was. 

But this morning it was raining and in less than 10 minutes my car was washed.  Right now I'm waiting for the rain to do the rinse and then I'll park back in the garage.  Yay for a problem-solving mind.  (I know, I know.  Lots of people would tell me the last thing you should do is wash your car in the rain - that the men in the white coats will come and get you.  Well, I don't see any difference in how my car looks after I've washed it in the rain and what it looks like after I pay $5.00 to run it through the car wash.  I've saved $5.00 and a lot of water.)

I Always Need to Hear What I Have to Say

Short update:  It's been a week since whatever happened happened.  Eric thinks I popped the ball out of my artificial hip and it (luckily) popped back.  I think he's right.  In that process it would have moved all my hardware around because everything is attached, which would explain why my leg and hip are sore.  I saw my regular doctor on Monday who read me the riot act for trying to tough it out and not going to the emergency room.  He says I need to go back and see the hip doctor and wrote me a script for physical therapy so they can assess where I am now.  I am feeling much more humble.  This week I've been back to sleeping 11 hours every day.  I'm okay with that.  It's probably happening from a need to heal.  The good thing is I go to sleep about 10 and wake up about 9 so I'm asleep and awake at regular hours at least.

Recently I've been dealing with people who are suffering from their own judgmentalness about other people.  Since that's an issue I'm dealing with right now myself (I don't like how I make negative comments about other people), I have had to think deeply about my own experience - what has helped me and what hasn't.  I know, for example, the more I'm criticising other people - even if it's just inside my own head - there's almost a 100% chance I'm hiding my self-judgment from myself.  A lot of spiritual teachers say that whatever I see in someone else, I have myself - "If you spot it, you got it."  The solution is to own my own faults and ask for help from a Higher Power to correct them. 

I love what Marianne Williamson suggests:  "Ask for a healing.  Ask to experience your own angelic nature, that you might see beyond someone else's behavior to the angel, however, wounded, within them."

If I want love, I can give love.  If I want people to not judge me, I can stop judging them.  (They intuitively know when I'm judging them even if I'm keeping my mouth shut - which I usually don't.)  All my time and energy really should go toward dealing with myself with the help of God.  My mission on earth, like I believe everyone's is, is love and forgiveness.  Of myself, of "them,"  Of all of us.  A very, very big job.

Results

The visit to Dr. Dreamy went about as I expected.  The xray looked wonderful.  So, his thought was that I might have had a muscle spasm in the muscle that runs along the rod which moved it and then when I relaxed, it moved back.  He said this might happen from time to time, but if it happened again come back.  If it's the artificial hip acting up I have to go back to see the surgeon I don't like.  Grrr.  He sent me for some blood tests to check for the possibility of infection because I have so much metal in my leg.  After that I was worn out and went to bed.  I'm still tired.  That tiny drama was wearing.  But for now all is well.

Grrr

I may know more tomorrow when I see my orthopedic surgeon, but I think the rod in my leg is loose from my hip.  I've been having mysterious symptoms for awhile, but yesterday my leg suddenly wouldn't hold me up and I had extreme pain.  Some time later when I moved, there was a pop and the pain went away.  It certainly felt like the rod had popped back into place.  Since it may be loose, I'm not bearing weight on the leg.  A couple of weeks ago I made an appointment to see Dr. Dreamy because of my mysterious symptoms so, luckily, I have more information to give him.

Since I believe everything has a reason, I will be looking for the reason in this latest mysterious happening.  Right now I have no idea.

Bell Curve

Now I'M going to be politically incorrect.  I'm going to go way, way, way out on a limb.  I haven't heard one single human but one say anything about this.  That one single human just said one little sentence that stayed with me.  She had a son with severe mental and physical disabilities and is a psychology professor at a local university.  She said, grumpily, one day, "I can only stand to be around people with really high I.Q.s and people with mental retardation.  Every one else just irritates me to death."  I think she was just having a bad day but I knew what she meant.

I don't have a really high I.Q.  It's a little above average but that's it.  What I do have is an inquiring mind, a desire to learn new stuff, and an innate gift for problem solving.  In the past few years I've realized that I'm definitely in a minority.  Watching all the bumbling around in government, during disasters, and people's beliefs on the internet, I'm starting to think that everybody who has an average I.Q. has serious resentments against anybody who knows anything.

It's really scary because those folks are running the world.  They believe things there's no evidence for (like every stupid rumor on the internet, and believe that "fact checkers" are just lying when they say those rumors are not true.).  They base their beliefs on what they "feel" is true (if they "feel" it, it must be true, right?).  It seems fairly obvious to me that they believe what they emotionally want to believe.  If they want to hate someone, they'll believe any crazy thing someone says about the person.  They hate people they have some crazy reason to be afraid of.  The people they like...well, those people can do no wrong even if there's provable evidence that they're a mess.  Proof doesn't move their minds at all.  Just labeling someone an "expert" means these folks will automatically refuse to believe anything the "expert" says. 

I guess this has been going on a long time. For years I've been hearing the word "elitist" as meaning the person labeled that way is educated and smart and looks down on everyone else and wants to take advantage of everyone else.  Could that mean that the person calling someone else "elitist" thinks he/she would act that way if he/she were smart and educated?  When Eisenhower was running against Stephenson, people were saying Stephenson was too smart and that was in the 50s.  What the hell?  Can you be too smart to be president?  That's what we need - a not smart president so that he/she will understand us not smart folks.  Of course, we've had several of those and things predictably went to shit when they were in office.  Good grief!  Let's not rely at all on those smart, educated people.  They might run over us.  The only thing is maybe smart, educated people would have sense enough to know that we're all in this together, so if some of us are in trouble, all of us are in trouble, and if all of us are doing well, all of us will be doing well.

A long, long time ago I had a job as a secretary where there were about 10 of us who had the exact same job.  One day we were all assigned this big hairy project that had to be done by the end of the day.  Now remember that I am a very, very good problem solver.  So after working for awhile it dawned on me that there were some super good ways to speed things up.  I exuberantly announced my idea - thinking that everyone would be thrilled to hear about a way to make the project 100 times easier.  But that's not what happened.  The other gals accused me of being a smart ass and trying to show them up and tell them what to do.  I was utterly astonished.  Since then I've been careful in those situations to lay low.  I try to remember to keep my bright ideas to myself.  I don't do that great at it, but I'm better than I was. 

As a very, very good problem solver I just want to say that one of the best kept secrets of being an amazing problem solver is to seek out really smart, educated experts and ask them a lot of questions and then take their advice.  It doesn't make me feel "less than" at all.  I've been in some really, really tight spots in my life and the advice I've gotten from those "elitists" is usually what pulled me out.  Too bad we're wasting so much good advice from people who could really help, cause we are in one hell of a tight spot at the moment.

Politically incorrect

I believe in being politically correct.  I know, I know, people make fun of the concept like it's a stupid idea or something.  But I think it's a good thing.  The point is to show respect for everybody and not do or say things that promote stereotypes and that hurt people's feelings.

My favorite example is when I was on the board of the local association for people with development disabilities.  The original name was The Association for Retarded Citizens.  The board of directors wanted to change the name back to use the word, "retarded."  Of course, people who have been labeled, "retarded" want nothing to do with that word.  They call it the "r" word.  It has been used against them as a label that means a worthless person good only for being made fun of.  The board of directors thought that by changing the name back, potential donors would better understand what the organization was about and it would be easier to raise money. 

My reaction was, "Okay.  We are an organization that represents people with developmental disabilities.  They hate the word, "retarded" and would rather die than be associated with a group that is called by that word.  But we're going to do it anyway like we don't care what the people we represent feel.  Hmmm.  I think that's wrong."  But the board still put it to a vote of the members of the organization.  A bunch of people with developmental disabilities joined the organization so they could vote and voted the proposition down.  Thank God.  I resigned from the board shortly thereafter. 

I think it's important to care about our own attitudes, words and behaviors.  We're all just one car wreck away from being disabled ourselves.  Even if that weren't the case, I wonder what kind of life it is to go through the world basically just not giving a shit how we hurt people and "putting down" people who do care.

Ups and Downs

I really thought the point of life was to arrange things so that nothing happened that I didn't like.  Well...guess what...Of course, when I couldn't seem to work that out, I just figured everyone else had it figured out and I didn't.  So I just tried harder.  And oh my God how I complained to anyone who would listen about my rotten luck, the bad guys out there that were causing me all this trouble, and on and on and on.  My friend, Rose says that some of us in recovery used to belong to the convent called "The Sisters of Perpetual Suffering." 

And then I found out that no one leads a charmed life, that this is a troubled world and even if you go live in a cave, trouble will find you.  Saints probably get headaches and have to make their beds when they're too tired and have to put up with people who obnoxiously disagree with them.  So... what in the world can we do!?  The wisest seem to say make the best of it. 

My dear friend, Joanie, my spiritual mother, had a husband I really didn't like.  He was arrogant and disrespectful of her and I'm pretty sure he cheated on her.  She deserved so much better.  But when he got brain cancer and died in two months after it was diagnosed, I gained a little respect for him.  He said, (while he could still talk), "I don't like the hand I've been dealt but I'm going to play it the best I can."  And he did.  And that's what we all can do if we choose to.

You Can Learn Something New Every Day

Near Tulsa is a place called the "Forest of Peace."  It used to be the Osage Monastery but the sisters retired.  For years it was an "ashram" - Roman Catholic with an Asian twist.  One goes there for a retreat.  There are cabins and a main building with a chapel.  Everyone eats together - vegetarian.  There are "services" three or four times a day -an hour of meditation and some Buddhist hymns.  It's situated in the middle of a forest.  You park your car in beween trees. 

I've gone there off and on for about 27 years and I just love it even though I'm not catholic.  My friend, Mary, who is Catholic, goes there for Mass on Sundays as well as going there on retreat.  She invited me to go with her for a special evening of music and food last night.  An awesome evening it was - the two singers (jazz) who performed in the chapel, had their own unusual style - every song was arranged in a minor key and the instruments came from garage sales - accordion, mandolin, xylophone, etc.  Incredibly lovely.  I loved the crowd too.  There were a couple of young families with kids of different races than the parents.  Since that's how my family looks and I rarely see any families like mine, I loved it.  Plus everyone was nice to everyone else - not always the case in a crowd.  I saw my massage therapist and a man who was in one of my classes.  I thought, "This is a group I could hang out with and be comfortable."

I went to bed early and slept like a baby in my little bare cabin.  When I got dressed and went to the main building in the morning, my friend, Mary, was talking to a visiting priest named Father John.  He is very old and very wise.  He told us a story about a hitchhiking hobo he picked once upon a time.  The guy was young - in his 20s - and had gone to school at Yale.  At some point he decided to become a professional hobo and drop out of society.  He had been doing this successfully for several years.  He shared his secrets with the priest - I guess because priest are supposed to keep secrets. 

Now here's the part where I learned something useful.  If I ever become a bag lady, I will need to know this stuff.  How do you get a free cup of coffee?  Go to a little neighborhood diner (chain restaurants don't work).  If coffee is 50 cents, put a quarter on the counter and ask for half a cup.  They will give you a full cup for free.  If you want a free meal, order and pay for a cup of coffee.  Strike up a conversation with the cook and tell him/her that you're broke but if he/she drops anything on the floor, instead of throwing it out, put it on a plate and you'll eat it.  They'll give you a free meal.  Hitching or riding the rails will get you where you want to go but if you want a little higher class transportation, go to the airport and go to the area where the private planes are.  Strike up a conversation and ask if you can ride along to wherever they're going.  (It costs them nothing since they're going there anyway.)    Most of the time they will say yes.  So, food and transportation are taken care of but where will you sleep?  The best places are hospitals, he said.  There's usually an empty gurney in emergency rooms they will let you use.  Cool!  Beats homeless shelters and doorways over grates!

Learn something useful every day

Sleep Experiment

I decided almost two weeks ago to see if taking care of sleep hygiene would help my sleep patterns.  Sleep hygiene:  Go to bed and get up at the same time.  Take a hot bath before bed.  Listen to CDs to promote sleep.  Turn tv off.  Turn lights off.  Turn fan on (white noise).  Read a prayer.  No naps.  Take a melatonin at 8:00 p.m.  I logged everything and then analyzed it.  The answer is ....are you ready?....  "yes" and "no"  Grrr. 

Of course, my ability to consistently do anything is so impaired that the results are skewed.  Did I do my evening routine when I was tired?  No.  I did manage to put on a nightgown every night which is good.  Sometimes I'm so tired I fall asleep in my clothes.  (Don't tell anyone who is self-disciplined.  They will be terribly disgusted.  To those people I am mostly disgusting.  Thank God I no longer disgust myself.  Let them live my life and see how they're doing at almost 70, I always say!) 

Did I manage not to take a nap?  Well....I only took a nap when I felt so tired I was sick.  That was three times in two weeks (almost two weeks).  Well... there was this 4th time when I held off until 6:00 p.m. and then had a nap until 8:30 p.m.  Does that count as a nap?  I did pretty consistently get to sleep before midnight (went to bed at 10:00) and almost made it out of bed by 8:00 a.m. every day.  I set the alarm at 6:30.  Either I didn't hear it at all or turned it off in my sleep.  It didn't seem to matter at all whether I practiced sleep hygiene, set an alarm, took a nap or not,  or whatever.  I still fell asleep and woke up at about the same times.  However, I didn't have any nights when I was awake until 3, 4, 5 or 6 in the morning and slept until 10, 11 or noon.  That's a vast improvement.  What did seem to have an influence was how much physical pain I was in.  Of course.  So, I think my mental intention to regulate my sleep patterns had the most influence of all.

Final result:  It's time to get off my own case about sleep patterns.  I intend to continue my effort to use sleep hygiene and self care.  But worrying about all of it is over, over, over.  If I sleep until noon, sleep in my clothes by accident, etc. I no longer care.  So there.