It has been quite awhile since you’ve heard from me. Since June 13, 2018, to be exact. 680 days ago. Why? Because. Life happens. Like my back surgery. And then the weeks of recovery. And my mom’s hip replacement surgery. And her recovery. And then her second hip replacement surgery and recovery. Life happens. Even more recently, my sister and I helped to move our mom from her three bedroom house to a two bedroom apartment with limited storage. Yup. Life. And now there’s a world-wide pandemic?! Seriously?!
The question you may be asking is, “Why now? Why come back to this caring corner now?” I’ll tell you why: Because LIFE happens! And because the universe has amazing ways of getting my attention. This is why:
I heard something recently that rang more true and more beautiful than anything I’ve heard in a LONG time. Let me explain. During this COVID-19 pandemic I’ve been watching Glennon Doyle’s morning meetings. If you don’t know who Glennon is, please look her up! She is an amazing human and has consistently been a source of inspiration to me the past year, but mostly during this pandemic and time of quarantine. (Two weeks ago I listened to her most recent memoir titled Untamed, and let me tell you, it is brilliant!) The other day, I stared out the truck window looking at Lake Erie as my boyfriend drove us home. Jim is an amazing listener. He lets me have the space I need to express my thoughts, and feelings, however random, awkward, or uncomfortable they can be. I told him how grateful I am for that and called him “The ALLOWER of my Feelings.” I told him that since I was in my 30’s I’ve wanted to be a writer. I love placing words in such a way that they bring ideas and feelings to life. I mentioned my blog and that I started it nearly two years ago because I longed to share my thoughts and ideas. I told him that I yearned to write, but just didn’t ever see it becoming a reality. As is Jim’s way, he just listened and allowed the space for me to share. He didn’t try to fix it or offer suggestions. He just ALLOWED it to be. Within a few minutes we turned onto our street and pulled in the driveway. That was the end of the conversation on writing.
The very next morning, Monday, April 20, 2020, I tuned in to Glennon’s Morning Meeting Time where she began to share her thoughts on avoiding regret. Glennon was addressing a comment by a lovely and brave woman who said that she dreamed of writing and feared that one day, on her deathbed, she’d regret not writing, but it felt like it was too late. [To watch you can click this link. https://www.facebook.com/glennondoyle/videos/861422111040454]. Something Glennon said was profound and hit me like a 2×4 smack dab in the head! She said that the only way she knows of avoiding deathbed regret is to avoid BEDTIME REGRET! This resounded so strongly with me that it shook me to my core. I NEED to write. The fact that people may or may not read what I write is not important. For me, what’s important is being brave enough to show up. So here I am. Showing up. I am showing up first and most importantly, for myself. And I am inviting you to share this space with me.
Rather than start a new blog post from scratch, I thought I’d finish the post that I started in late July of 2018 after spending some time in the Rocky Mountains with my sister Karen, and one of my dearest friends, Shannon. So here goes…..I called it the Shaken Purse Hypothesis.
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All the craziness started back in January of 2017 when I went through a very traumatic experience at work. One of my troubled students threatened my life on social media. It shook me to my core. Besides the craziness of police investigations, obtaining an order of protection, preparing a victim statement, and all the other mayhem that ensued, the overwhelming stress took a toll on my body and I became very ill. Shortly after, my mom discovered that she had a mass on her right kidney. It turned out to be what we feared the most: Cancer. That began a nine month journey through her tests, screenings, consultations, weighing treatment options, and ultimately waiting for the surgical removal of the tumor and part of her kidney. (Fortunately, my mom had the tumor removed and she’s been cancer free since October 2018.)
My world was flipped upside down. Going to work became a source of anxiety. Worrying about my mom’s health added to that anxiety. Depression crept back in. Getting out of bed became increasingly difficult. My work as a teacher became less and less fulfilling, and more and more stressful. Thankfully I recognized the symptoms and sought out help and got myself back into counseling. It helped. I was able to get myself out of the hole. Well, at least I was no longer sinking deeper and deeper into that hole.
Just when I thought things were getting back to normal, my life flipped upside down again. Pain became my constant companion. Every step was a challenge. I sought answers any way I could: Doctor’s visits, Chiropractic adjustments, Reiki sessions, massages and stretching, meditation. You name it. I tried it. It only got worse. Every step was painful. I started to think I was crazy. I knew something was wrong. I was right.
Eventually my rheumatologist ordered an MRI of my spine. April 23, 2018 I went in for an MRI. Exactly two years ago today. Later that evening, my doctor called to give me a preliminary report. There was a mass. A cyst. Between the L4 and L5 vertebrae. That marble-like mass was pressing on my nerves and causing the problem. My pain had a name. I was not crazy.
What followed is now somewhat of a blur. Surgery was scheduled, tests were done, making it through each day was my one and only goal. Until the night came. Then the goal was making it through the night. There was no work to go to. I couldn’t function as a teacher. I missed my students. I missed my life. I missed being ME! Throughout this period, Jim was my rock. I honestly don’t know how I could have gotten through without him and his strength, caring, and his ALLOWING me to express my pain, fear, sadness, whatever. He allowed it.
Fast forward to mid-July, 2018. My sister, brother-in-law, and I travel to Estes Park, Colorado for a week. During our time there, I will get to meet my sister’s friends Sharon and John, whom she met while on her trip to Italy. Karen, my sister, is going to meet my dear friend Shannon and her fiancé, (now husband) Matt. It was a magical time. We hiked. We walked. We talked. We laughed. We cried. We LIVED! I got to spend time in deep conversation with Shannon. It was during one of our conversations that I came up with the “Shaken Purse Hypothesis.” It goes something like this…
Every now and then I need to clean out my purse from the loads of junk that accumulates there; loads of receipts, some important, others not; random junk that somehow found its way to the bottom of my bag; crumbs and empty wrappers; misplaced items that I never took the time to put back where they belong. So I turn my purse up side down and empty it preparing for the organizing that it needs. But other times, LIFE turns my purse upside down. It often happens at the most inconvenient times. And it often happens violently. I slam on my brakes and my purse flies forward and EVERYTHING spills out all over the floor of the car. Sometimes the handle of my purse gets caught on something and the contents fly out bouncing in every direction and landing on the ground and rolling every which way.
Whether it was of my choosing, or some random accident, the result is the same. I sit and toss items I don’t need. I carefully select the important things and choose a safe place in my purse to keep them. It’s time consuming, but worth it. I’ve noticed that it is much the same with my life.
From time to time, I decide it’s time to get my life organized. But most often it happens when I’m least expecting it. Something happens, and my world gets flipped upside down. Death threats. Cancer. Spinal cysts. Even a world wide pandemic. These things force me to STOP and take inventory of what is junk, and what’s truly important. What needs to be tossed. What needs to stay. What needs my attention and what can wait.
Today, I decided that writing could not wait. Today I tossed out my plan of doing the rest of the laundry and cleaning the house. Today I picked up the pieces of a blog post that I started 21 months ago and decided to make sense of them. Today I decided that I wouldn’t suffer from bedtime regret. Today I’m grateful that my metaphorical purse got shaken. And I’m glad that I got to pick up the things that really matter. The rest is just garbage.
Until next time……
XO, Christine