Process Notes. I guess this is the art of articulating your inner self in reflection upon an event or series of events. It is a revelation of sorts into what one is working on internally in the midst of all the external work one is doing. It is a recognition that one is more than just the actions one does but the feelings, thoughts, motivations...etc that influence those actions.
This is my task at the moment. Process notes.
This beginning part of my journey in this process is to dis-cover who I am. I guess I didn't know I was covering it up. Of course I should have known that I was. I'm feeling very vulnerable and anxious at the moment. Very insecure. Much more insecure than I anticipated so early in the process. I think the fear of the process has gotten ahead of me a bit. I have focused that fear externally to begin with. Trying to learn theory, theology and group process. What I'm finding is I need to learn a little bit more about myself. Therapy with the right person will help, but so will my own process notes. I guess that is where this blog, if I am dutiful in my utilization of it anyway, will be helpful.
So, what am I working on at the moment? What is "popping" up for me? Anger has been popping up for me. I feel angry a lot. I'm sure the prednisone I take for my Chrohn's has a bit to do with that, but I honestly don't feel it has everything to do with it. I just simply get pissed off in ways I'm not used to. I'm a bit on edge all the time lately. I'm ashamed. I'm jealous. I feel inadequate in so many ways at the moment. And, all that pisses me off so much because I don't see myself that insecure just a short time ago. Is it the process, the medication, my illness, my shadow side revealing itself, all of the above...
I guess I am trying to work out all of this anxiety. And, this is only the beginning.
Oh well, I guess I'll have a lot of process notes.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Things Change
Two Sunday's ago, I was running along Lake Michigan in Chicago. That was the day before my disease began to take a new turn. Today, I tried to run the same amount of time and distance. Not close to successful.
Funny how quickly our bodies can change on us. It happens so fast.
Went to a friend's house last night for some conversation, music, beer and fajitas. I was able to enjoy three of those four. The beer was left out for me. It is one of the most awkward things to be at a party where the beer is flowing freely and you are unable to imbibe without dire consequences. At least it was for me last night. It may be one of the least enjoyable experiences I have had in a long time. I did however enjoy some of the conversations, at times, throughout the evening. However, I found myself, again, in a position to defend my profession, my illness, my parenting, and my dislike of the word F&^*.
Sometimes I find that my body is not the only thing changing. I'm finding that my way of seeing things is changing to, especially when I'm not wearing beer goggles.
Funny how quickly our bodies can change on us. It happens so fast.
Went to a friend's house last night for some conversation, music, beer and fajitas. I was able to enjoy three of those four. The beer was left out for me. It is one of the most awkward things to be at a party where the beer is flowing freely and you are unable to imbibe without dire consequences. At least it was for me last night. It may be one of the least enjoyable experiences I have had in a long time. I did however enjoy some of the conversations, at times, throughout the evening. However, I found myself, again, in a position to defend my profession, my illness, my parenting, and my dislike of the word F&^*.
Sometimes I find that my body is not the only thing changing. I'm finding that my way of seeing things is changing to, especially when I'm not wearing beer goggles.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Holding on to Water
I put a note in Jayme's lunchbox this morning. Nothing big, just a little thing to say, "Hey, I love you." I don't do it enough. Hardly ever. We have such a finite amount of time to tell those around us we love them. We let so many opportunities fall through our grasp, like holding on to water. Life is so impermanent like that. It is like holding on to water. No matter how hard you try to cup your hands together, water will always find a way around and out of your grasp.
I guess I don't want to get caught trying so desperately to hold on to my life like that. I'd rather be o.k. with it going wherever it is it is going to go. I saw Eian today just dancing. No pretense or care for form, just pure unadulterated joy at moving his body to a song that tickled his dancing bone. I love that. I need more of that in my life. The ability to just let the music of life touch me and send me to dancing. If I can do that, I think I would find more awareness of the beautiful moments around me to enjoy.
I guess I don't want to get caught trying so desperately to hold on to my life like that. I'd rather be o.k. with it going wherever it is it is going to go. I saw Eian today just dancing. No pretense or care for form, just pure unadulterated joy at moving his body to a song that tickled his dancing bone. I love that. I need more of that in my life. The ability to just let the music of life touch me and send me to dancing. If I can do that, I think I would find more awareness of the beautiful moments around me to enjoy.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Dilitation
What a descriptive word. This is what they did to my small bowel today, a dilitation. Apparently it was successful and I have avoided surgery this time. I have new medication to try and I really want to see a dietician. I am extremely tired though. The prednisone I am on has insomnia as a side effect. So even though I can't keep my eyes open, I can't fall asleep either. It is extremely frustrating. Yet, one benefit, I have lots of alone time late at night to get some writing done on my Readiness Materials. Lots of opportunities to reflect on the past few weeks as well.
My body just feels off right now, but I feel that my spirit and mind are as sharp as ever. Spiritually I feel better than I have in a long time while my body is really struggling. I miss running and really need to get back on the road. My last run was alongside Lake Michigan in Chicago the day before I got sick.
So, I see the doc again in a couple of weeks to change meds and to go from there. Someone did ask me the other day if I still was going ahead with my plans to pursue CPE supervisor education. Hell yeah I plan to still pursue it. This illness can do a lot to me, but it will never keep me from living my life. If I can pursue it, I will. So, I plan to move forward.
Not much more to say tonight. Sorry.
My body just feels off right now, but I feel that my spirit and mind are as sharp as ever. Spiritually I feel better than I have in a long time while my body is really struggling. I miss running and really need to get back on the road. My last run was alongside Lake Michigan in Chicago the day before I got sick.
So, I see the doc again in a couple of weeks to change meds and to go from there. Someone did ask me the other day if I still was going ahead with my plans to pursue CPE supervisor education. Hell yeah I plan to still pursue it. This illness can do a lot to me, but it will never keep me from living my life. If I can pursue it, I will. So, I plan to move forward.
Not much more to say tonight. Sorry.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
The Bravest Thing You'll Ever Do
Brene Brown says, and this is not an exact quote, "accepting your story and loving yourself in the process is the bravest thing you'll ever do."
I would say that it may be the only work we ever will do that actually means anything. I'm discovering more and more as a chaplain that my ability to empathize and sit with the story of someone else, as difficult as that might be, is directly correlated to my own ability in any given moment to sit in my own story. Not only sit in my own story but to LOVE it. Really embrace it with a burning fervent love.
The problem of course is that we are too often running from our story or at least hiding from our story. There is always something in our story that makes us defective somehow. Less than. But less than what? Loving who we really are is a process and it sounds so simple, and it is in a way. The difficulty comes in really accepting that our story is already exactly all it needs to be. There doesn't need to be any embellishment or hyperbole. It just is what it is and I am called to just love it.
Why do we have to be brave to enter this process of accepting and loving our story? Why is this work so dangerous? Because, in the end, and even now, it is all we really own. Nothing else is ours. Money comes and goes, possessions too, even loved ones in perfect relationship (whatever that is) can't escape departing each others presence in death. We can't even claim our own bodies as ours. Our bodies change and decay toward simple organic material daily. No, all we have is our ability to accept and love our story. To accept life simply as it is. One must be brave if that one thing we have is deemed defective.
Our problem is that we try so hard to be perfect to cover up our perceived defectiveness. The reality is that what really makes us defective relationally is that we are unable or unwilling to accept the perfection of our own story and love it. Purely and simply loving it.
Joko Beck says that seeing and accepting simply "life as it is" is the heart of spiritual practice. With my life turning around me in ways I did not see even two weeks ago, I agree.
I would say that it may be the only work we ever will do that actually means anything. I'm discovering more and more as a chaplain that my ability to empathize and sit with the story of someone else, as difficult as that might be, is directly correlated to my own ability in any given moment to sit in my own story. Not only sit in my own story but to LOVE it. Really embrace it with a burning fervent love.
The problem of course is that we are too often running from our story or at least hiding from our story. There is always something in our story that makes us defective somehow. Less than. But less than what? Loving who we really are is a process and it sounds so simple, and it is in a way. The difficulty comes in really accepting that our story is already exactly all it needs to be. There doesn't need to be any embellishment or hyperbole. It just is what it is and I am called to just love it.
Why do we have to be brave to enter this process of accepting and loving our story? Why is this work so dangerous? Because, in the end, and even now, it is all we really own. Nothing else is ours. Money comes and goes, possessions too, even loved ones in perfect relationship (whatever that is) can't escape departing each others presence in death. We can't even claim our own bodies as ours. Our bodies change and decay toward simple organic material daily. No, all we have is our ability to accept and love our story. To accept life simply as it is. One must be brave if that one thing we have is deemed defective.
Our problem is that we try so hard to be perfect to cover up our perceived defectiveness. The reality is that what really makes us defective relationally is that we are unable or unwilling to accept the perfection of our own story and love it. Purely and simply loving it.
Joko Beck says that seeing and accepting simply "life as it is" is the heart of spiritual practice. With my life turning around me in ways I did not see even two weeks ago, I agree.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
If You Make it to Kansas City But No One Is There to See You...
Well, I meant to make my first ACPE conference in Kansas City this past week. I made it to Kansas City, barely, but did not attend a single event at the conference.
I have Chrohns Disease. It has decided to take a turn toward the dark side. I have been doing fairly well since being diagnosed five years ago. Simmering I guess. Well, now I'm in a full boil. My gut decided to close up after the Cubs game last Sunday and I was on a train to Kansas City Monday afternoon. I made it to the ER at Truman Medical Center in KC just after midnight after getting off the train. I was in so much pain, I could not tell you!!!!! If not for Ken and our friend Jose who had already arrived in KC ahead of us with a car, I would have been in bad shape. Needless to say I flew home to Round Rock on Tuesday afternoon, barely making that trip as well. I saw the doctor on Wednesday and discovered I have a blockage and need to have a dilation this coming Thursday.
Now I face the reality of living with a chronic disease in a new and more profound way. IV infusions are most likely in my future and I have no idea yet how this reality will affect me professionally or personally yet. What I do know is that I am not letting this keep me from enjoying my life. I love my kids, my family, my baseball and everything else. I continue to do that. I NEED that. That is not to say that discouragement does not creep up on me. It does. Especially when the pain hits or the gut feels like a balloon with way too much air. The real problem for me, and the one I am least focusing on at the moment at least consciously, is what this illness MEANS for me. Spiritually, what is this illness going to mean for me. Look, the physical is the obvious. I am going to have physical issues, even ones that might cause me to die earlier than I would ideally like, that I understand. What I can't quite grasp is how I LIVE with this. I don't mean that I can't live with this. I do and I will. What I mean is can I live with it in such a way that I don't have to alter my course, particularly on a personal level, but also in my desire to be a CPE Supervisor. I mean, how do I use this to be a better person and caretaker, a better educator, a better parent, a better husband, a better minister... just better.
When I talked to my mother a few days ago to let her in on my life change, she said that this shouldn't be happening. My reaction was that, actually, it should. Not Chrohns Disease necessarily, but something. We all have deal with something. This is my something. Life is not avoiding the suffering, it is how we LIVE with the suffering. This disease is helping me learn how to live in such a way that happiness can always be my true home and companion. Thich Nhat Hahn, my teacher reminds me of this in his writings. The sound of the bell brings us to our true home. I guess the movement of my bowels does the same for me. Kind of crass I know, but the truth. I guess I'm saying that I seek not to suffer with Chrohns Disease, but to live with it and still find happiness.
On the train from Chicago to Kansas City, I apologized to Ken for being a terrible travel partner. His response helped me. He said given everything I was going through I was an excellent travel partner. I was physically in pain, great pain, but I was not suffering. I only begin to suffer when the pain departs and I have time to think about what is going on with me. In the meantime... I will live, laugh and love.
I have Chrohns Disease. It has decided to take a turn toward the dark side. I have been doing fairly well since being diagnosed five years ago. Simmering I guess. Well, now I'm in a full boil. My gut decided to close up after the Cubs game last Sunday and I was on a train to Kansas City Monday afternoon. I made it to the ER at Truman Medical Center in KC just after midnight after getting off the train. I was in so much pain, I could not tell you!!!!! If not for Ken and our friend Jose who had already arrived in KC ahead of us with a car, I would have been in bad shape. Needless to say I flew home to Round Rock on Tuesday afternoon, barely making that trip as well. I saw the doctor on Wednesday and discovered I have a blockage and need to have a dilation this coming Thursday.
Now I face the reality of living with a chronic disease in a new and more profound way. IV infusions are most likely in my future and I have no idea yet how this reality will affect me professionally or personally yet. What I do know is that I am not letting this keep me from enjoying my life. I love my kids, my family, my baseball and everything else. I continue to do that. I NEED that. That is not to say that discouragement does not creep up on me. It does. Especially when the pain hits or the gut feels like a balloon with way too much air. The real problem for me, and the one I am least focusing on at the moment at least consciously, is what this illness MEANS for me. Spiritually, what is this illness going to mean for me. Look, the physical is the obvious. I am going to have physical issues, even ones that might cause me to die earlier than I would ideally like, that I understand. What I can't quite grasp is how I LIVE with this. I don't mean that I can't live with this. I do and I will. What I mean is can I live with it in such a way that I don't have to alter my course, particularly on a personal level, but also in my desire to be a CPE Supervisor. I mean, how do I use this to be a better person and caretaker, a better educator, a better parent, a better husband, a better minister... just better.
When I talked to my mother a few days ago to let her in on my life change, she said that this shouldn't be happening. My reaction was that, actually, it should. Not Chrohns Disease necessarily, but something. We all have deal with something. This is my something. Life is not avoiding the suffering, it is how we LIVE with the suffering. This disease is helping me learn how to live in such a way that happiness can always be my true home and companion. Thich Nhat Hahn, my teacher reminds me of this in his writings. The sound of the bell brings us to our true home. I guess the movement of my bowels does the same for me. Kind of crass I know, but the truth. I guess I'm saying that I seek not to suffer with Chrohns Disease, but to live with it and still find happiness.
On the train from Chicago to Kansas City, I apologized to Ken for being a terrible travel partner. His response helped me. He said given everything I was going through I was an excellent travel partner. I was physically in pain, great pain, but I was not suffering. I only begin to suffer when the pain departs and I have time to think about what is going on with me. In the meantime... I will live, laugh and love.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
A Fear of Falling, oops, Failing
Too often, we as flawed human beings seem to work from a place of fear rather than from a place of empowerment. Fear dictates our actions. Fear keeps us from doing the right thing and from pursuing justice with our words or in our actions. Living in fear is devastating.
I was watching my daughter yesterday live in her fear of riding her bike without the training wheels and I became extremely frustrated. Angry even. Yet, she seems paralyzed enough by her fear she will not take a risk of trying something new, no matter how much she wants to do it. Risk aversion. To me though, it doesn't seem to be connected to her fear of falling, but out of her fear of failing. Almost as if she can't KNOW she will succeed, she will not try it.
The anger and frustration I felt comes from my own risk aversion sometimes. I don't particularly like to try things that I don't think I will be successful at either. In fact, I have often sabotaged myself out of this fear. Screwing up on purpose is so much easier than screwing up on accident.
This shame stuff is really playing with me lately. When I see it in people I love, it really makes me angry. I want my children to feel free to fail and still be o.k. with themselves. I want them to be spared of the shame that is inherent, it seems for me, in failing. Then I wonder how I end up shaming them myself and perpetuate their fear of failing.
Fear of failing. I'd rather be afraid of falling.
I was watching my daughter yesterday live in her fear of riding her bike without the training wheels and I became extremely frustrated. Angry even. Yet, she seems paralyzed enough by her fear she will not take a risk of trying something new, no matter how much she wants to do it. Risk aversion. To me though, it doesn't seem to be connected to her fear of falling, but out of her fear of failing. Almost as if she can't KNOW she will succeed, she will not try it.
The anger and frustration I felt comes from my own risk aversion sometimes. I don't particularly like to try things that I don't think I will be successful at either. In fact, I have often sabotaged myself out of this fear. Screwing up on purpose is so much easier than screwing up on accident.
This shame stuff is really playing with me lately. When I see it in people I love, it really makes me angry. I want my children to feel free to fail and still be o.k. with themselves. I want them to be spared of the shame that is inherent, it seems for me, in failing. Then I wonder how I end up shaming them myself and perpetuate their fear of failing.
Fear of failing. I'd rather be afraid of falling.
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