Eric went into the hospital this past week, and as of this writing is still there. He has some pretty big challenges ahead of him, physically speaking.
This has been a time for me to practice being steady. A time for me to know and feel my true north. A time for me to be still inside despite reasons to be otherwise.
It has been clear to me for many years that how I feel is important, and that how I feel is up to me. This is not so difficult in areas of my life that are fairly easy going. Day to day activities, for instance, or conversations with others.
The idea of being in charge of how I feel is more challenging regarding Eric and his future.
I think it would be wonderful to never be in fear about anything, ever – to know that everything is what it is, and there’s no need to fret about anything for any reason. That every life, every event, every moment is unfolding as it should. It would be wonderful to know, regarding Eric and his health situation, that everything is truly OK. It’s his life and he knows what he’s doing. All there is to do is honor who he is and his choices.
Sometimes I’m there and I know this in my bones, sometimes I’m not. I like when I am there.
I notice I believe death is OK if the person has lived a good, long life, but something’s wrong with dying “too soon.” I’ve had some practice around the subject lately, when my youngest brother died a few years ago at age 50 and this past summer, my older brother died at age 65. Most of me, frankly, still says, “What’s up with that? Why did you leave so soon?”
It’s OK with me that my father died. He lived a good, long life. And it’s joyous to me that my 90-year-old mother is alive and well. I think it’s outstanding that she gardens and takes daily walks. She welcomes each new grandchild with a quilt hand made by her. She travels easily, loves people and has a whole lot of fun.
But alas, I seem to have rules about death.
Regarding my dear Eric, while I understand that life is eternal, I’m so fond of the flesh and bones version of him.
Apparently, “what’s up with that” is that I’ve come a long way, baby, and still I have miles to go. Much to learn. Much to understand.
You’re broken down and tired Of living life on a merry go round And you can’t find the fighter But I see it in you so we gonna walk it out And move mountains We gonna walk it out And move mountains
And I’ll rise up I’ll rise like the day I’ll rise up I’ll rise unafraid I’ll rise up And I’ll do it a thousand times again And I’ll rise up High like the waves I’ll rise up In spite of the ache I’ll rise up And I’ll do it a thousand times again
For you For you For you For you
When the silence isn’t quiet And it feels like it’s getting hard to breathe And I know you feel like dying But I promise we’ll take the world to its feet And move mountains Bring it to its feet And move mountains
And I’ll rise up I’ll rise like the day I’ll rise up I’ll rise unafraid I’ll rise up And I’ll do it a thousand times again
For you For you For you For you
All we need, all we need is hope And for that we have each other And for that we have each other And we will rise We will rise We’ll rise, oh, oh We’ll rise
I’ll rise up Rise like the day I’ll rise up In spite of the ache I will rise a thousand times again And we’ll rise up High like the waves We’ll rise up In spite of the ache We’ll rise up And we’ll do it a thousand times again
During this strange time in history, I noticed y’all were tackling all sorts of interesting projects. I decided I needed one, too—something positive to remember the pandemic of 2020 by.
I decided to pay attention to something I had abandoned…
Nope, I’m not cleaning my garage. I am not organizing one single thing. I’m not planting a garden or cleaning up my yard.
Instead, I decided to take care of myself better. This, folks, has made all the difference for me.
With relatively little time and effort on my part, I feel so much better than I did a month ago.
On March 30, I got on the exercise bike and the yoga mat for the first time in a long time, and did 30 minutes each. I liked it so much that I decided to do it every day. But I fell short of that, and changed my commitment to every other day, which felt more manageable, reasonable, and doable.
I also get off the bike after every song, take a couple of sips of water, shake out my legs and arms for a few seconds, and get back on. This makes the bike project a reasonable proposition, too.
Daily walks of any length—by myself, or with my little guy, Jackson—are a fresh air bonus.
My recumbent exercise bike has pulleys to work my upper body while I pedal, which gets my heart rate up fast, and also helps my whole-body strength. It feels good to get up from writing, or doing a consulting session with a client, to do something physically challenging while listening to good music.
After only a month, I feel a sheet of muscles on the front of me I haven’t felt for a very, very long time. Goodness gracious. Who knew they were there. I’ll be posting rippling ab photos soon, I’m sure.
I have no idea what the scales have to say about my bike/yoga project—I don’t care. Paying attention to scales tends to send me sideways, and therefore, I’m ignoring them completely.
But—I LOVE the way I feel! Hang in there, everyone.
Sometimes we ask intimate partners to do for us what is actually ours to do.
We ask our partner to give us the reassurance, love or appreciation we feel is missing in ourselves, with the hope that they will give us what we’re asking for—and then we’ll feel better. They’ll take care of our problem.
But when they do give us what we’re asking for, it can never be enough, because we have insufficient context for what they’ve given. We haven’t build the inner foundation to receive it, hear it, welcome it, believe it. They try to help, but their love for us falls into our void, our black hole, our love bucket with no bottom.
As always, there’s hope. Check out the video below.