hump day wisdom

words for wednesday {page 16, laughter club}

" For peace of mind, resign as general manager of the universe." 

Larry Eisenberg

"Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished."

Lao Tzu

"Always laugh when you can. It is cheap medicine."

Lord Byron

Yesterday I went to the nursery and came home with baby Daphne, who smells like lemony spring and looks like my wedding bouquet. I keep sneaking out the front door to bend down and take in her fragrance (i.e. nearly every hour). I think Lao Tzu articulated one of the most restorative things about creation - it's never rushing or stressing or worrying. 

This Saturday, I am hoping to try the most wacky bizarre unconventional thing I've ever done.

I thought going back to ballet as an adult was courageous. This time I'm going to go along to laughter club.  I have no idea whether I will find it mad and crazy as I am inclined to think, or refreshing and freeing. I feel as though I am a crazy lady for even deciding to try it. I asked my other half if he would join me after he was quite positive about my decision to trial it, but he wasn't so keen for himself and cited concerns about co-workers seeing him there and having to explain himself {the 'laughers' meet at the Waterfront}. He doesn't want to be associated with 'hippy healthy nutters', which is quite understandable. My main concern is that I will laugh uncontrollably in the sections where we supposed to be quiet. I have this difficulty, bordering on disorder, where I lose the plot in serious situations, and struggle to stop laughing at a socially appropriate times. I might share my laughter experience next week.

Have you heard of Norman Cousins? 

He was diagnosed in 1964 with a connective tissue disease and given a very slim chance of recovery. After getting progressively worse in hospital under conventional medicine, he became active in his health and decided to put himself on a course of vitamins, and.....laughter. He knew that stress could cause harm to the body and wanted to see if positive emotions could help with healing. He tested his sedimentation rate before and after laughter (achieved by watching the Marx Brothers) - and found that afterwards it would drop, and he would be pain-free for two hours of sleep. After recovering, he went on to study the effects of humour on the body.

Thankyou cfsjourney for the Eisenberg quote.

words for wednesday {Page 14, being a Somebody}

“Like city dwellers who no longer notice the polluted air, we breathe in the atmosphere of ungrace unawares. As early as pre-school, and kindergarten we are tested and evaluated before being slotted into advanced, normal or slow track. Test papers come back with errors, not correct answers, highlighted. Ford Motor Company grades employees on a scale of 1 (clerks and secretaries) to 27 (chairman of the board). You must be at least Grade 9 to qualify for a parking space: Grade 13 brings with it such perks as a window, plants and an intercom system: Grade 16 offices come equipped with private bathrooms. Justice departments and mortgage companies cannot operate by grace. A sports franchise rewards those who complete passes, throw strikes, or make baskets, and has no place for those who fail. Fortune Magazine annually lists the five hundred richest: no one knows the names of the five hundred poorest.”

Philip Yancey, Grace

It’s not really surprising that I question my existence now that I am fully dependant, and meritless. I feel like a Nobody because every Somebody in our world has to earn their way to Somebodiness and I can’t anymore. I can't, and it doesn't feel good. I’ve always defined myself by my achievements, and now that I can’t achieve, I wonder where on earth I fit in?

But then there’s this bizarre and wonderful grace thing, where things aren’t earned or strictly fair. I have a meagre grasp of it. I just know that grace doesn’t care about what I can do, and that we need more grace in our world because there’s enough ungrace. Grace seems to me a lot like unconditional love.

I was looking through HONY and a wizened face appeared, a man playing a wooden flute. The music drew me in, but then I read what the man had said and it seemed to sum up every confused thought I have had regarding me and how I fit into the world now that I am ill.

“Don’t look to other people for validation. Your birth was your validation.”

Human of New York

I was born a little red squishy 7 lbs of girl. I was loved for just being a human being, even when Mum first discovered that I was in her womb, barely formed, barely functional. I didn’t acquire my validity to exist once I’d done something impressive, or sacrificial, or beautiful. I am not valid because of what I do - but because I was born and I make up one of the millions of souls who exist because they were created.

“Your eyes saw my unformed substance;

in your book were written, ever one of them,

the days that were formed for me,

when as yet there was none of them.”

Ps 139

I only discovered Humans of New York a couple of weeks ago, but it was love at first sight and every sight since.

I am overwhelmed by the beauty and uniqueness of every soul captured. When I trawl through the photos and hilarious or sobering quotes I feel less alone because there are thousands of humans going through highs and lows simultaneously. I feel community.

  

words for wednesday {page 13, are we friends?}

The trouble with me is that I fight CFS. We're always talking about fighting and battling illnesses, particularly cancer, because we want to come out on top.
But with this one, the more you deny 'it' what it wants, the more it eats you up. The harder you fight, the longer the battle will be. In the first year or two, I fought it passionately by going to university despite the pain. But it won, of course. Now, I fight it on the home front.

It says, “Ok, I know it’s only mid morning, but you are off to sleepy land now.”

I refuse, keep doing what I am doing, eat something, drink something, beg it to give me a break and let me stay awake. I even whip out the tears, as a last resort. But it wins, and soon I am nodding off to sleep with my quilt, at 10.30 am.

The other perspective I could take is that ‘it’s’ not so much my enemy but a faithful spy who knows the inner workings of my body. When it commands a rest, it’s doing so because this is what I need to someday regain my health. I want to push it away and annihilate it for stopping me from doing so many things that my heart loves. But perhaps it’s not my enemy after all, perhaps if I fought less we could get along, become a team and make some more progress?

After writing this, I found this - I am still deciding.

“Discovery consists not in seeking new lands but in seeing with new eyes.”

Marcel Proust

“Happiness can exist only in acceptance.”

George Orwell

“Hope itself is like a star - not to be seen in the sunshine of prosperity, and only to be discovered in the night of adversity.” 

Charles H. Spurgeon

words for wednesday {page 12, nice people}

My friend finds the best words and gives them to me as presents. She found the ones you read today.

“Fame is a vapour

Popularity an accident

Riches take wings

Only one thing endures, and that is Character.”

Horace Greeley

And then, I think what my friend wrote after this is even better. “It doesn’t matter if you spend 8 hours a day at a job you hate or all day in your home. It matters who you were in that 8 hours."

I just have me left - I don't have the qualifications or income or social life I had envisaged. Sometimes I feel scared even to talk to my hairdresser in case she asks what I've been doing that day. I fear someone will come to the door while I am asleep at midday. I feel that I need to justify my very existence by proof of things achieved. It's the darkest cage, the thought that I am a waste if I don't do the usual things, have the conventional life. But when I think that it's how I live my moments, I feel like I am alive; that my days matter, that my existence is valid.

  

"Kind words can be short and easy to speak, but their echoes are truly endless."

Mother Theresa

Disillusionment with medics had settled thick inside me, and last week I had to attend another appointment with a nurse to be put on a ‘care plan’. I wasn’t looking forward to it – I could predict the unhelpful comments and anticipate the deep sense of misunderstanding I so often stumble away with. 

‘You only weigh such and such, are you sure you don’t have anorexia rather than CFS?’

 ‘You don’t eat sugar, dairy or wheat; I’m concerned it’s not a balanced enough diet.’

‘Your tests are all spot on perfect, so things are obviously going well.’

But this nurse, she had me bouncing out of the clinic, ecstatic. I actually had an adrenalin rush from happiness, and managed to go to a few shops afterwards before it wore off. Not only did she empathise about my illness, she spoke with sadness about all the misunderstanding that invisible and longterm illness sufferers get. Centrelink, dreams lost, and patience were just some of the things we talked about. She knew I was petite, she knew my diet was healthy, she knew I was sick. We laughed and talked for almost an hour and every word she said was balm to me. It was like having a warm bubble bath after many ice ones.

I went away and thought that if every single person was as kind as she was, we would have a very happy world. I naively wonder why more people can’t be like that? She is doing one of the greatest jobs on earth.

words for wednesday {page 10, advice}

Weeds are flowers too, once you get to know them.”

 

A.A. Milne

“The best way out is always through.”

Robert Frost

Last week had some tears because I had a difficult conversation with someone who implied that I needed to do more ‘spiritually’ to get better, and who thought if I believed I was better I would be. Sometimes I have a sad week because I’ve told someone that we can’t catch up and they ignore it or off handedly ‘forgive’ me for the inconvenience I’ve caused them.  But the experience last week was worse because it made me so frustrated to think that some people don’t see that tough things can bring about good, that they don’t all go away fast and its part of the grand plan not a failing on the sufferer’s part.

Having CFS is horrendous at times, I cannot recommend the experience – my tissue box knows that I have plenty of ‘why me, what happened to my life?’ sessions.  But right alongside that grief, I also see that incredible good has come out of these years and I’m quite ok with the way it has shaped me and changed the way I live.  

Last week I was wishing for compassion and empathy rather than advice or rejection.

I wish we could crawl along with people in their lows as readily as we’ll party with them over their highs. 

“Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it.”

Helen Keller

I wonder, is overcoming suffering being freed from it or going through it well?

words for wednesday {page 9, plodding}

Those who wish to sing, always find a song.

Swedish Proverb

The Hare darted almost out of sight at once, but soon stopped and, to show his contempt for the Tortoise, lay down to have a nap. The Tortoise plodded on and plodded on, and when the Hare awoke from his nap, he saw the Tortoise just near the winning-post and could not run up in time to save the race. Then said the Tortoise:

" Plodding wins the race”

Aesop

I slip back many times, I fall, I stand still, I run against the edge of hidden obstacles, I lose my temper and find it again and keep it better, I trudge on, I gain a little, I feel encouraged, I get more eager and climb higher and begin to see the widening horizon. Every struggle is a victory.

Helen Keller – The Story of My Life

I love autobiographies, but in the last few years I have found the lives of ‘inspiring’ high achievers hard to stomach. I close my copy and remember my current lot more acutely it seems. And I’m back to wishing I could be doing the book-worthy things. I feel tired just reading about all the things they did and thought, and my victory of doing the washing or practicing or remembering a name fades into nothing.

 But Keller’s biography is wonderful because she had obstacles piled against her high as a blind and deaf woman, and she had to climb Hill Difficulty. I find her climbing analogy so apt for the last few years. So I plod onwards, in good company with men and women from past and present, who don’t fly through the days with ease. It’s comforting to know that it’s ok to struggle along, and it’s not in vain.