Balancing in the Storm

I have this random plant stand, that um has never held a plant in it. I am sure I bought it on a whim thinking some beautiful draping flower arrangement would brighten my deck. I am also sure there may have been a pot with it that got broken or some nonsense like that.

So now the stand sits with this random tile on top from some flooring project along the way of house improvements. It sits on the open area of our deck and I often use it to put a nice glass of beverage on when enjoying my outside time and area.

The oddest part is that my outside area can get very windy and blustery. I am continually picking up the cushions and pillows and putting them back in their place. And yet…the stand and this tile I have yet to pick up. Even last night after golf ball size hail, crazy winds that blew everything everywhere I thought welp, better go pick up broken tile. I figured THIS was the one storm that would finally knock it over.

I go outside and see it there, upright in the same exact place it has been all summer, not even a blown around cushion bumped it. I barely think about it and then really think about it as I sit in the center of unspeakable personal storm. A storm that has hail that hits strong and furiously and then is gone but will return at any time. Crazy wind that blows and howls and then crazy quiet that sits heavy, like waiting for the next thunderstorm to come.

And I think of the stand and tile. WHY and HOW does it stay upright? Fragile spindly legs, the tile balanced on top, not glued or secure in any way. How does it not succumb to those elements that blow everything else around it?

I ponder, is it the three legs perfectly symmetrical, even though slim and delicate but yet perfectly balanced that the wind flows through it? Is it the tile on top set just so in a way that keeps it grounded, the hail hits it but can’t find a weak edge to break or knock off?

I think of this and say yes to all of it. This is how the storm can be survived. The wind and hail and quiet can be survived with balance, delicate grace, and a strong foundation with no weak edges. It doesn’t mean the stand and tile don’t get buffeted and hit, it means it stays standing upright by combining all of those things.

And I think to myself yes, this is how one stays standing.

Choosing

Mother’s Day 2015 comes around, which as can happen in the great state of South Dakota became the second coming of a great October blizzard we had in 2013. I anticipated there would not be much planned by the male members of my house being snow and blizzard and all. I had prepared though by texting a link to the ever people pleasing 13-year-old of a possible gift idea. I knew he wouldn’t let me down. I arose that Mother’s Day morning ready for some type of recognition. Now don’t get me wrong, after 16 years into this journey of motherhood I am fully aware that I may not receive the cool little handprint cards or mini-flower pots.  At ages 16 and 13 and the throes of middle school, there are no rock star elementary teachers who will be sending something home for me to “ooohhh” and “ahhh” over. And of course, my husband is no longer in awe of my mothering skills, and well I am NOT his mother. I had no grand illusions.

I went about my day, made breakfast waiting for some type of verbal acknowledgment. I started laundry, still waiting. I started putting laundry away, when the teen finally ventures out from the basement and haphazardly says, “Happy Mother’s Day”. By this time, it was three hours into the day, and I’d had plenty of time to become annoyed, sad, and just a little infuriated. I displayed very little self-control and let out a sarcastic, “Gee thanks”. This was met with a look and an off-handed “Well I guess I could have gotten you a card”. And there you have it my friends, you can imagine the rest of the day.

I continued to stomp around the house, dust-which only happens when I am really furious-the deadly silent kind, and cry in the shower. It is really hard to cry privately in a house when you are all snowed in together. All the time running through my head were images. Images of me sitting in a damn deer blind at four in the morning. Images of me finding container after container for snakes, bugs and crawdads. Finding REAL crawdads under beds in said containers and not being mad. First day and last day of school gifts, specifically chosen with love. Little notes under pillows and the list goes on and on of all the self-sacrificing things I had done to be a good mom, a rock star mom I thought, and all I got on this special day was a whole lot of nothing. My martyrdom felt good, and I wallowed in it.

It felt good until around three in the afternoon when by accident the younger child tried to pacify me with a movie-my choice, and he accidently found a video from his kindergarten teacher that she made for parents. The video shows all their happy faces dancing around to the LeAnn Womack song “I hope You Dance”. This then moved to watching other collage dvd’s-thank you Shutterfly, and then some more. As we are watching he turns to me and says, “Watching these makes me a little sad-like tears, but happy too”. And there it was, what I had been waiting for all day. In his one short random sentence he had summed up my whole damn life as a mom. A little sad and happy too.

It is now summer 2019 as a I rewrite this story and the children-lovingly called man-child 1 and man-child 2 are now ages 20 and 17, and I reflect on our most recent Mother’s Day. See, I have long given up asking, hinting, and of course dusting on Mother’s Day. But this year something magical happened. The now 17-year old people pleaser old texts me, “Where did you get that wind chime thing?”. I ponder, could it be someone might be GOING and planning something? The menfolk, including the husband mysteriously disappear for an errand when I ask them where they are going and then in true menfolk style come home and ask me for wrapping paper.

This Mother’s Day I receive a gift AND A CARD-you do not understand people what it means to get a card in my house from menfolk. The hub absolutely hates them, with a passion. Scribbled in the card were words I had been waiting to hear-I mean I know they feel them but sometimes SEEING them means so much. I immediately thought about the above story I had written for work, 4 years ago and felt it needed to be added to.

As a mom we give and give and give a little more. Outwardly we say, we are doing this for our children-it is all about them-it isn’t about us. But sometimes we want it to be, need it to be about us. I so wanted that Mother’s Day long ago to be about me. And the anger and annoyance and pity party felt good. But then I look at the long term, the little moments I have made and still make for my children I realize the end game is where it is at.

I chose it, CHOSE this, this game of mom and would choose it all over again. So, with that I will continue to sit in deer blinds, drive to Texas and leave my then alone 19-year-old to a new job and fly off. I food prep until I am super sick of cooking for a teen who wants to get “buff”. Answer late night texts of “should I be worried about this rash” and worse. I will text, question, send stupid quotes, and inspiring stories and links even when they aren’t appreciated. I will still cry in the shower, because that is what mom’s do. I do less stomping around and have learned to ask my soon to be adult children for what I want and need just like adults should.

I will get up each day and be a mom in the best way I know how, because it is what I believe in and want to do and it is what I CHOOSE to do.

Detours

I had the privilege of making a very long and stressful drive to pick up the youngest man child at college to bring him home. THIS was not according to plans. Needless to say, while I always look forward to a road trip the timing was terrible (a story for another day maybe). I packed a light bag, departed, and semi-looked forward to a long peaceful drive, new scenery, and change of pace.

There are two important background pieces to have at this time, 1) Driving in December any direction to a nearby state from our homestead can be tricky with weather and 2) I am a terrible winter driver night or day.  Knowing this important information, I quickly hit, you guessed it weather and road closures in the wonderful state of Wyoming. Not a big deal, find a spot to stay, have a margarita and get an early start. I get up the next morning very early and hopeful. How bad can it be? Um let’s just say bad, like white knuckle, hold my breath bad. I honestly think I had acute tennis elbow from the rigidity of my arms on the steering wheel. I am still optimistic as I hit I-25 and beyond, up towards the Tetons and Jackson. To make a long story short. Awful, awful, awful. I am sure there was wonderful winter scenery, but I have no clue as looking left or right out my window just wasn’t happening. Meanwhile I am communicating with my spouse on the destination and how to best get there and back again. I immediately determine there is no way in hell I am going back the way I came. I don’t care if I need to drive to Utah to do it.

Luckily there are these amazing 511 apps that give you all the information you need for driving. Live camera shots, colored legends that tell you what is closed and where tricky spots are. From my location they were everywhere. Here was the deal, too late to go back and the only way was forward, not quite directly or planned but forward. I made plans to get from one point A to point B at a time, revaluate and plan out the next chunk. I rolled into Boise and we rolled right back out, with all the possible 511 options we could use. As we drove the morning of the final day I finally stopped to look around and took the picture below. I had to; I couldn’t help myself. It was beautiful, it was pull over and take a picture worthy. I think of this picture and the word I ponder is “detour”. Detour is defined as “a long or roundabout route that is taken to avoid something or to visit somewhere along the way.”

As I was on the eve of a very significant family circumstance I think about that word “detour”. We often encounter them on the road and in life. The ones in life can break you. We see detours as getting us “off track”, taking more time, the LONG way, a way to avoid a happenstance in the road (or in life). Here is what I remind myself with this current life detour. We still have to get THERE, we have to move forward-the only way is through. A detour is thankfully not a dead-end. We can kind of look ahead, reevaluate, move through a small chunk and then another. We can still get THERE, where we want to be-and there just might be something worthwhile on the detour worth stopping and seeing, just maybe.

As we approach the end of the year, maybe YOU have hit some detours, or maybe someone you care about has. That’s ok, reflect on it, see some beauty in it and know it is just a detour, not a dead end.

Broken Beliefs

Broken Beliefs
I went climbing with the women’s group for my last official summer session. Work calls, back to doing what I am meant to do. It is always bittersweet to leave that last time. I went into today’s climb with a crabby mind. Not motivated, almost didn’t go. I hadn’t learned as much I wanted this summer, it was super-hot, my body was like, ummmm lets just phone it in.  Me-Okay, sounds good to me.

My last route of the day was one of the harder ones I have done. The start was HARD (kind of like most starts in life are). I get discouraged by the start often, pretty easy to abandon when the task is hard right away. I had to spend my time scrambling, grabbing, scratching at rock. In my head the chatter is, "Oh I will get as far as I can but you know, it looks pretty hard, out of my ability level, and well the start is sooooo hard". Some falling happens and a big swing. Yep see. Hard. My belayer tells me “You almost had it”. The climber before who made it look easy says “You got this; you are totally strong enough”. Hmm am I? Like I LOVE that you all are feeling that right now but…ever have that chatter in your head people?

So I scuttle back over, breathe, grit my jaw, set my shoulders and think to myself COME ON. Dig in and believe, accept the route, and go, just fricking go. You do know other words were used but you get the idea. Attempt 2, just as much grabbing and clawing, grunting and breathing and moving, just moving. I had no idea of my feet, what was next just go, go up. Not sure ANY of that is good climbing practice but it worked. I make it over the crux. Not sure words can describe.

When I arrive home I get some pics and a compliment from our other climber-and ask the name of the route. Get this it is called Broken Beliefs. Mic drop. I felt that. You know why I FELT that perfect name?

Because life is like that, Broken Beliefs, ALL the damn time, small and big things that break. Things breaking around us and within us. Things with a really hard start, and a crux right at the beginning sometimes leaving us stepping back and out-abandoning. When this happens, we never know what “could be” or what might be great AFTER the crux.

So here it is for today. DON’T abandon. Sit in the harness-rest. Take that support. Breathe. Set the shoulders and GO. Be broken and still believe. After the crux is worth it.

Approaching the Rock

I wrote this awhile back. I found it today. I found it today after someone I know connected with me as he/she had just found our work and website. This person had taken to read the blog and had very kind words to say. It compelled me to reread (and edit) and think of this story. I thought of it as one of our man-children provided me with an up-against-the rock moment. Of his own making. AGAIN. And I went through the roller coaster of emotions. AGAIN. And wondered when in the heck will this roller coaster just flatten out. As I reread stories unpublished and came across this one. As always just the story I needed at the time. Sometimes those we love the most are the damn rock. But they are our rocks…Read on friends

I read this in a passage today from a book a friend gave me. The passage was titled “When the Path is Blocked”, here is a small piece:

We are each a mountain for the other to climb, often our path to love is interrupted by a mishap or a problem or something unexpected that needs attending. We tend to call these unexpected things “obstacles”…Thus, in daily ways, we have this constant choice: to see each other as the stubborn, muddy, biting thing that blocks our way, OR to back up and take in the whole person as we would a mountain in its entirety, dizzy when looking up into its majesty.

This hit me like a ton of bricks, or maybe I hit it like running smack into a mountain. I had not slept well the night before after what felt like again another lose-lose conversation with our adult offspring. Harsh tone was used, follow up texts, words spewed forth from fear, concerns and good intentions that still felt to the other party like judgement and non-acceptance. I hate that. Because while I can say to myself, I am not judging I know there is that undercurrent, how can there not be. I am always looking at how this person handles the obstacles with a critical eye, even an eye roll sometimes and probably lots of cussing.

I read this passage and reflected on my climbing for the day, climbing each time I go and WHY I love it. I love the pattern. The pattern of putting on the harness, looking at the rock, watching others. I love approaching the hard, clunky granite-analyzing it, taking it in, stepping forward with resolution and curiosity and JOY that it is before me. Do you know I have never once looked at is an “obstacle”, this huge rock in front of me? I never thought about changing it, attacking it, fixing it. I have learned to sit back in the harness and pause-reexamine-slow it down without assumption or judgement of it or myself. I often don’t make it to the top, and usually always leave the day with a bruise, a scrape, bleeding, and exhausted. BUT I go back every time. I go back without trepidation, malice, or ill will toward the rock. Because like the passage stated I take in the whole majesty of the climb.

I wanted to cry as I read the passage because THIS was exactly what it was telling me about my very special human and our phone call-past and I know future ones. The thing in the way often comes from that other person we love-their stubbornness, their desire, their need for independence, their sadness. Instead of seeing this other person as a majestic mountain to approach with calm, steadiness, curiosity, the feeling of tearing away logs in the way, skipping over murky water and attacking overcomes me. Fear and worry do that, no way around it. But what if…

I approach the rock-this person I love differently. What if I approach it like the true majestic rock that it is. I take a breath, I look up and out. I see the beauty of this person. What if I take a step back and trust my harness, be curious about the route, let go a little, recognize bruising will happen, still stay firm-I can’t stop being a mom-never will. There will always be emotion attached to it but if we pause in the approach of the rock can I do a little better, I can try. It really all is in how you approach the rock my friends.

Fireproof

August….wow it has been awhile and I see my last blog was from a mom heart. Here we are again writing from a mom heart. Very fitting, it is WHY all this occurs, why I focus on something so small and in my corner and thinking maybe it helps just one….

Here is an entry I wrote and actually emailed to the man children. I don’t know if they I read it. I hope they do, if not now, some day. I tell them that, don’t worry-it will make sense and when I am 80 and you are 50 something I will still write you things. That is what I do. Here I share with you friends.

Fireproof-Glennon Doyle

Only people who stand in the fire can know what that is. That is the one thing I need my children to know about themselves

Nothing will destroy them. So I do not want to protect them from life’s fires

I want to point toward the fire and say, “I see your fear”, and it’s big. I also see your courage, and it’s bigger.

We can do hard things

We are fireproof

I began reading this book and came across this quote in it at a very random time, but not really. The school year was starting mid Covid 19 and we were in the middle of a medical scare. Nothing like a good medical scare throws me over the edge more. Needless to say, I read this and I cried. And I have since many times. This year of 2020 has been a bitch my friends, there is no other way to put it. I remember where I was a year ago on this day, getting ready to celebrate 25 years of marriage to the person who sticks with me and all my weirdness- on our dream vacation. We came back refreshed and motivated to focus on fun and more trips with and without the man children. Iceland, Europe, and another November trip in 2020. Then March of 2020 hit and HERE.WE.ARE.

We are in this limbo, this terrible day 2 and “in between” of EVERYTHING. In a year with so many things like graduations, 18th birthday, 21st birthday, 50th birthdays to celebrate, none of them went right or what seems to be “normal”. Add to it some traumatic society events (no matter what lens you view it from) and an election, if feels like the joy is just sometimes sucked from daily life. And I think of my offspring in this stupid, awful limbo and in the words of Gollum from Lord of the Rings, “We hates it”.

But, you know me there is always a but…

Here is something the offspring don’t always know because we may not say it enough, or they don’t believe us or buy what we are saying BUT I know my kids. I know their hearts, I know their minds. I have seen each of them in their own way battle and show courage with small and big things that while they drive me crazy at the same time make me proud. I never tried to shield them from tough stuff or make it too easy, but I know we are a very fortunate family and yes I still sometimes heat up their food and do their laundry-it is what mom’s do. I wish I could share with them somehow in a concrete way the feeling I have in my bones that while 2020 has been terrible, especially for a young adults it IS temporary. And the other feeling in my bones is that this will help shape who they are because they are not quitters. I don’t think I raised quitters. I also hope in my heart they leave this cruddy time with some learning and instead of coming out on the other side of the fire scarred and bitter that they come out with a renewed sense of self and seeking joy and resiliency. Because they will deserve it and have worked for it.

I want them to look at the fire and think, “whoa this sucks” and be worried, but then see the courage I SEE in them and know they can do these hard things. I am saying now is the time to be fireproof, focus on what is in front of us with a strong back and a soft front. We can do hard things….

From mom-you know I write cheesy things I can’t help it. I really don’t mind if you don’t read or it seems weird and uncomfortable. Sharing my thoughts helps my heart, I know someday it will help yours.

If All It Took

If All It Took

I pause in the middle of washing dishes, hands soapy and dripping everywhere as I reach for a towel. I pause because as I am washing dishes I am listening and watching a show called “American Tragedy”. It features Susan Klebold, the mother of Columbine Massacre killer Dylan Klebold. I am weird that way, I enjoy terrible crime stories, but I have also read her book and it spoke to me. It spoke to me because it is so genuine. It is easy for many people to look at this terrible tragedy and say, “She should have known”, “What kind of parent would not know….” About the bombs and guns and terrible ideations. I pause because the documentary is to the part where she has moved past the grief and anger and realized the terrible final impact of a mental illness her son had unbeknownst to her. She had no idea. Scoff if you want, I don’t. I have been there, done that, lived with a teen that I had no idea was struggling so deeply. Do not hold yourself in such high esteem, it happens my friends.

The reason I stop is to press pause on the remote as a reporter who studies school shootings and the connections of mental illness shares words that hit me in the heart. I have to rewind, I need to hear her words and write them down. Here is what she says: If loving fiercely was all it took to keep mental illness at bay then there would be an awful lot of people who would be completely immune and protected, just caring isn’t always enough. Whoa, read it again. I have shared quotes before of loving fiercely, rising up, being tenacious, that these are the gritty vocabulary words needed to survive this journey. It is true but lets not forget what else we need. Tools and support and guidance in how to use them.

It comes to mind that 1 in 5 children will have a mental illness or be with someone who suffers. Kudos to the 4 of you who are immune, have gratitude. But your 1 of 4 children who are aren’t impacted will be sitting next to 1 of the 5 in class, be friends with 1 of the 5, be on a sports team of 1 of the 5, be the girlfriend or boyfriend of 1 of the 5. Lose their best friend to suicide who is 1 of the 5, even be a victim of 1 of the 5.

I don’t say this to scare us. I don’t stop in midstream while doing dishes to have a righteous moment. I stop because I easily forget the endless counseling appointments, the medication, the tools learned and how they have become habits in our family. That we didn’t do this alone without methodical work from experts.  That possibly in the coming months these tools may serve us well again. Maybe another story for another time.

Here is what I am saying, love fiercely AND seek help and support, not just once but every time. Not just for a quick fix but for the long haul, that is the end game. Think about your hair fitness, your physical fitness, nutritional fitness, shouldn’t we be thinking about the mental fitness just as much?

What Others Are Saying!

“I don’t know if you get much feedback for your Yet We Rise work, but here is some. Your book talk of Rising Strong led me to want to read it. My tiny post has led to about six other people (that I know of) wanting to read it. So...you are touching lives and spreading helpful knowledge. Thank you”

“This afternoon, after my day was done, I put on my YWR hat and had a long run. “Without judgement on the reciprocation we receive”... I needed that. Thank you.”

“I love this hat. Even better when people ask me what YWR stands for.”

“Thanks Yet We Rise! I loved the chat this morning!”

”I read every day, but it’s been a long time since I’ve read a book like this. Thank you for broadening my thoughts and life practices!!”

”Yeah! Thank you for starting my summer reading list!”
”

“thanks for what you do, it is noticed, it is valued, and it is beyond important.”

”I love and appreciate your honest thoughts! It is definitely a struggle and the work you do makes a difference! Can’t stay silent!”

”You are amazing! Thank you for talking about the subject.”

”Thank you for what you are doing. It is important work and you are making ripples! Love the Whitman quote!”

”We can never be reminded too often to check on those who are struggling”
”

Thank You!

I am sitting her in Pierre, South Dakota watching rain fall on the river as I add, delete, reread and reflect on the YWR website and complete much needed updates. It was a year ago I was here with the goal to not leave until a YWR website was up and running, nearly as hard as childbirth-nearly!

The most important thing I need to say at this time is thank you. Simple, two words-a show of gratitude. First in my heart I have to say thank you in general for all the last year has shown me and the growth we have made as a family with our journey as parents of children who struggle or have struggled with mental wellness. To say we are coming out of a valley and seeing success and results of hard work is an understatement. There is always work to do, BUT growth must be celebrated!

Second, I must say thank you to many faces I know and love who have supported me since the beginning ,and names of those I don’t know. As I work to grow this endeavor and reach out I see more names on social media that are tuning in or people messaging me with gratitude and feedback. I have always felt that if we can help “just one” person and they find what we share and do helpful then I have been successful.

THANK YOU

A Rock, A Rope, Faith and Oh Yes, A Knot

We went climbing, the first outing of the summer with the ladies’ church group that I started with last year. I was excited, could not wait, had been anticipating for weeks. The start to this climbing day felt “normal”, which is far from what we have had the last 3 months. Nothing had been usual, normal, or some days easy (see March Post). And on this day, just a few days after the confusion, anger, and response to the recent George Floyd death it was much needed.

It felt clunky though, not right. I was off, my head not in the game. Everything felt harder than I remembered. Fellow board member Lisa and I had to do our knots repeatedly, we continually asked each other, “Does this look right?” and then redid the knot-again…and again. We climbed, we reconnected with ladies from the summer before and I tried to gather my thoughts as to WHY the work didn’t feel as amazing and wonderful as I remembered?

I got home and looked at the photos I took. I paused at the one with the face of the first climb and the single rope, and us fumbling at the end to tie a damn not (not pictured). And I remembered. I could picture in my head and feel in my heart what I had last summer that I didn’t have that day-or taken time to consider. I thought of these things. A rock-it was in front of me, not easy, not to be taken lightly and it needed intent and purpose. I hadn’t done any of those things-I approached it “easy”. A rope-the one thing that got you up besides yourself-not doing it for you, but there just in case. Faith-here is the hard part. I am not a religious person and I always equate faith with religion and not something I value in my everyday life, but here is the definition: complete trust or confidence in someone or something. This is huge in climbing as trusting and relying on the person on the other end of the rope is key-and trust and confidence in yourself. This is HUGE in our everyday life. As I thought about these three things, I was amazed by how they reflected on all that was hard and harsh in our world and what had made no sense to me and hard to put in words now seemed clearer.

A rock-we are facing huge rocks my friends- ones that only add to our mental wellness needs. Rope or ropes, so many of us are looking for that rope to help us, hold us, keep us safe. Faith, as I said…a key, and we need so much of it and are so lacking it. Read the definition again and the words slowly. Complete. Trust. Confidence. In SOMEONE or SOMETHING.

So here is what we do, here is how I thought of all those things and then went out again, with all this in my mind and my heart. I made a knot. A perfect knot. The knot was strong, smooth, even pretty. I believed in it. I had faith in the knot and more so faith in myself and my purpose and my intention. We must tie some knots, take some rope, and tie ourselves with some really good knots. Tie ourselves tight to each other, to those we love and those we don’t. To those we understand and those we may not. To those we agree with and those we may disagree with. In all these I ask that we tie the knot with kindness. And if it doesn’t “look right” try to tie it again.

Every day have we have these things: a rock, a rope, faith, and knots. What will you do with yours? How will you keep your mental health and those you love focused on and dong the best you can, which knots do you need?

Panic Is Not a Strategy

I write this as I sit at the breakfast bar watching our 17 year old color. He is coloring because we are bored. He is coloring because at this time in our history we are treading water, new water. I wrote the post below for FB on the eve-a Wednesday-of what will become known in history as the Covid-19 pandemic. He is coloring because we are sticking close to home, doing the dreaded strategy of “social distancing”, and we are only on day 5. I wrote the post because this affects us all. Please read and remember “Panic is not a strategy”.

I wish Why Wednesday could be short and pithy today. You know-a cool word on orange background that we read and think to ourselves, "ahhhh just got my one word motivator for today, for a little small step". Well these coming weeks are not about small steps. They are big steps. They will hit those of us with maybe mild anxiety (ME!) a little harder. Let's take a minute and honor that.

I have been a caregiver of my own children who have dropped into major clinical lows. It is tough. In those lows I learned to grow, have grit, put one foot in front of the other-as there was no choice. I had to learn to deal with the raw-in-the-moment times that would confront us. I have come out better, more joyful, laid back, in it to be the best I can be. But this...

This is different. As I read the news and am sent home from work. As I watch our 21 year old arrive home from school and our senior not know what the heck this does to his last school year, I see their frustration. Their scoffing, then maybe a little "oh shit" this could be bad look.

I then stand in line waiting to get in a store, 20 at a time allowed. I see shelves in grocery stores empty-ravaged is the word. I hear from my friends in the medical field who are warning, "no really, DON'T go out". I can see where this is heading. This will be lingering, a lingering anxiety that sets in. I have not had lingering anxiety in a LONG time and I feel a little unprepared. Unprepared for new stress triggers, for the unknown and my usual stress outlets like gym time to close down or seclude myself from that release.

But, what can I say. Here it is. Here we are. I would recommend to you NOW, immediately. Make a plan. A five finger plan.

1. Outside-sit on your step, sit in your car with the windows open, go for a walk

2. Connect-with someone- that fills your bucket, that you can vent to but yet won't let you wallow

3. DISconnect-If you are secluded at home STOP scrolling, put the device up

4. Routine-make some simple routines and time limits during the day. When we aren't used to home time or working from home, it can be the big abyss and black hole of wandering and lack of focus.

5. Box Breathe-before you go out, when out, in line etc. When you feel that "lingering" anxiety come up, stop and breathe

I have these on my list and included it on a To-Do page for the family. They may or may not read, but at least we planned it. As I told my coworkers "Panic is not a strategy" nor is it a superpower. Patience, grace, breathing, planning. Those are strategies.

Re-Park

Get ready for some swearing, I feel it coming out in this one. I had a friend send this, we “liked” it, mentioned it would be a good quick post for YWR, and as I went to post the picture it became so much more.

See, how many times have we parked, and realized the minute we pulled in that it was a shit job. You know what I am talking about. We peer over the passenger seat and see how close we are to that person’s door or we open the door just a crack and look down and can’t see the yellow line below. Hell, I have even gotten out and looked at my shitty parking job from afar AND still shrugged my shoulders -too lazy, too apathetic, too in a hurry to take 30 seconds to get back in the car and re-do. AND if no one is parked next to me? Well you know what happens then, I am not bothering anyone around me so of course I am not moving. It is like the free space in Bingo!

You are scratching your head, how does this relate to mental health? Let me tell you, SO MANY WAYS. Personally with my one adult like child I so want him to see that you can Re-park…anytime, any age. Just back up and frickin try again. If you look at the park job and see it is crap then try again.

I think of us who struggle with our own anxiety or depression, and I KNOW we get so in the weeds that backing up and trying again seems impossible-but just try it, with one little thing.

As caretakers, WE ARE the yellow lines for those we love and support. Take those yellow lines away and the person we love is left with open space, no guidelines, or lane to stay in. We have to do that, we have to be those parking lines that make them pause and think, “I should try again, because the people around me matter”. We cannot let them look from afar and shrug their shoulders in apathy. That is how we lose our loved ones.

We caretakers also need our own permission to try again, we aren’t going to have all the perfect answers every time and we deserve the re-dos. The hard part is the “trying”, it is exhausting, I get it. The alternative is the door gets dinged or we can’t get out of the damn car-literally. We have to squirm and shimmy EVERYTHING in our life to get in and out. Like the time I had to get in the back of my car and climb over seats in a dress suit because of someone else’s crappy parking job. That is what happens when we don’t try-literally. Metaphorically….

We won’t get it right the first time, or the 100th time

Re-park-try again.

365 Days

Hello friends, it has been soooooo long. We took a little break over the holidays, to of course practice what we share and focus on us, family, friends or maybe not any of those things. We did take time to review our last year-what a crazy/wonderful year, and begin to make plans for 20/20. We forget in the hustle and bustle how much work we have done and connections we have made. It is easy to get in the frame of mind of “ohhhh I wish we sold out of product”, or “I really wanted more likes for that post”, BUT we cannot dwell on that. That is why I see the year 2020 as 20/20 because clarity, seeing clearly on our WHY is so important. We then make the HOW with small steps, daily consistencies, daily practice of trying and trying again.

We can dwell and think about 365 days (or 366 as someone reminded me). We can swirl around on how maybe the last 365 were hard, awful, painful-like the kind where you are trying to claw your way out of a mud hole and every reach forward causes backward motion. Or like me, I am recollecting and can say the last 365 days were pretty damn good for us on this journey. I keep that on the down low though because that beast we call anxiety hates to celebrate. It says to us “Don’t celebrate, something bad could happen, be prepared”. I get it, mental wellness and supporting someone struggling is often like that. We watch the person reaching or we ARE the person reaching. We see success but wait for the other shoe. I HATE the other shoe feeling. To this all I can say is I am sorry for the rough times, and I see you, with 20/20 vision. Which brings me to 20/20 and the whole New Year gig.

As we move forward in 20/20 or any new year we often have these high aspirations, new goals, great transformation plans, renewed sense of EVERYTHING. As my 17 year old said when I felt bad for him being home on New Year’s Eve, he stated, “na-it is over rated”. I KNOW he said it, not sure he meant it. Don’t we all get that little deep feeling of anticipation or that SOMETHING sparkly and spectacular will happen when we change the year on our check blanks. I wish.

What we CAN do is get clear, plan a vision-add some steps to that vision. We have 366 chances to start and exist in each day-to do and try some little things that will matter to us. Pick ONE, just ONE thing we have shared in the last year or will be sharing and then DO.

We cannot wait to have 365 days (give or take with our other lives and careers) to connect, share and DO with each of you. Lets make this journey called mental wellness a big deal and provide a 20/20 lens to it!

Model the Mantra Part 2!

While this labor of love is truly personal it feeds my artistic side visually and in writing the words. I have enjoyed so much the creating of our products and then seeing people I know and don’t know wear them makes my heart happy. We continue to stick to our commitment of using local talent from the designing (me), the product approval (Lisa and Sarah), making product-our friend Ann at Real Deal Activewear, Lisa the photographer, and of course our models. It seems like no matter what day we pick there has been a little chill in the air and we are all out there shivering while we get just the right pic. THESE people I know show no hesitation when I text or mention, “Hey will you put on a shirt and model it for us”, THAT makes me even happier. We hope you enjoy the new stuff and will need to check the store and Gallery for some great up close looks!

Answer the buzzer

I wrote this story on a whim, when I was at work late and supposed to be working. BUT as most of my writing moments go, I have to get the flurry of thoughts out on paper before they escape me. Here is why this story is important. Dealing with, just so you know-I hate that phrase. Let’s say overcoming mental health concerns is exhausting and often we just don’t want to put in one more ounce of energy, no matter how much we love the person. We want to shut the door and be done. Sometimes we do have to if there is toxicity, it can just become that way. BEFORE we do though, we have to sometimes answer the damn buzzer no matter how annoying, read on…

Let’s start by ranting here for a minute. I was sitting in my office waiting for a PTA meeting and super excited to have two uninterrupted hours to get some much-needed work done. While doing this work the 20-year-old man-child calls. He is upset and frustrated by adulting life (can’t say I haven’t felt that) and I know his feelings are valid BUT of his own making. The phone call is tense I am definitely clear, but NOT kind in my input and the call ends not so great. I feel terrible, like a horrible mom, but I am beyond frustrated with the scenario and almost ready to cry…when the BUZZER goes off.

The BUZZER is an obnoxious button people must press to enter the school building, and it was now ringing right at that moment at 5:05 PM on a Tuesday. I roll my eyes. I swear. I refuse to look at the live camera view to see who it is. Ringing the buzzer at 5:05 PM is bad and usually a goof off or some kid wanting to come into the building to pee. I ignore it- NO ONE IS HERE I want to shout, like I want to go out to their face and say it and stomp away.

I pause, crap-what if it is a hurt kid or a scared kid and I ignore it. I would never get over it if those unspeakable things that we read about in the paper happen to one of MY kids because I ignored a buzzer. So I get on the camera, sure enough a 5th grade girl-wet and cheeks red from the cold keeps pressing the buzzer over and over again. I head to the door. As I open it she says, “Um oh thank goodness, can I um get my spelling words, it is really important and I forgot them”. Let’s be honest here, I am still raging angry as I walk to the door and my desire to respond, “Well honey we have to remember those things, everyone is gone and the school is closed you can get them tomorrow” is so ready to roll off my tongue.

But I don’t. I let her in, I get rid of my resting bitch face, she tells me her name is *** and we walk together to the room to get her spelling words. It is like 40 degrees out and raining and she has ridden her bike and is wet and cold and all she can do is THANK me for letting her in. She tells me, “I really appreciate this”. We get to her room and she rumbles through her desk and says, “Oh good thing I came back, I forgot this too!”. We exit, she thanks me again and you can see her relief. I go back to my desk and quickly shut myself in and then...the buzzer. It is her, again. She tells me that the spelling list isn’t in there and her dad is really going to be angry because she was supposed to study them last night. NOW, seriously people…can you feel the humility coming out of me, the shame?? We walk back and of course she can’t find the list, I can see the panic coming on, I tell her no worries we will scrounge through someone else’s desk and find a list to photocopy.

As we walk back to the door her relief and gratitude is palatable. She again says, “Thank you so much,” and “I really didn’t think anyone would be here, I am really sorry to bother you. This means a lot”. People can you feel it…the lesson, the metaphor, the slap in my face I obviously needed at that moment? I did, 100% to tears. People “buzz” for us all the time, some we know some we don’t. Some we really care about and some we barely like. Some people “buzz” so much we are fed up-as with the 20-year old man-child in the 10 minutes before this event. I know we can’t always respond to the buzz and sometimes shouldn’t BUT, damn am I glad I answered this buzzer today. Thank you ****, I needed you today, even if I didn’t get my work done😊

Making an impact...

I always promise to myself that this isn’t about how cool our product is and how much we sell. It isn’t about how many likes or shares on social media, even though of course I check. I hold tight to the promise that people know who we are and think of the work we are doing. How do I know? Because people send me things like the picture below. They tell me, “Hey check this out, saw it and thought of you and Yet, We Rise”. Like really isn’t that enough? Isn’t it enough that we came across someone’s radar, I think it is-you know why? Because for every someone who sends me something or connects with us, there are others who are silently observing, reading, and listening.

I know you are out there. This is for you. Trust me. I have seen it go just this way….

Well Hello October

Here we are, it is October already. We had a busy September with much planning in the works. We did attend a local hike and were able to count it as our 46 Climbs, so exhausting, especially when you are not a super fan of hiking like I am. I just kept reminding myself of the why.

Speaking of why, I am so proud of all the progress we have made this year and the amazing events coming up this fall. We look forward to sharing them with you!

Seize the Awkward

So today is the anniversary of 9/11, a somber day in our nation’s history for everyone. That creates a somber day. This week can also be a somber week as it is Suicide Awareness and Prevention Week, with the actual day being September 10th. It is a little crazy that we have to have a week or a DAY to bring awareness to something so devastating but we have to, we have to talk about it.

The seriousness of suicide prevention has been shown to me through many lenses and conversations that aren’t mine to share in such a forum. What I will share is the day that the ember of doing more started as a small tiny fire in my heart and mind. On a nice fall day Lisa and I attended a local suicide awareness walk in support of those who had lost loved ones to suicide. People were asked to wear beads displaying the color of their connection, asked to decorate a rock to place along the walk , and given this card (see photo). I kind of looked over the card because all I could do was think about the small group around us. Those with names or photos on their shirts, and knowing that for every person brave enough to come and wear their heartbreak there were so many more who for so many reasons didn’t come and never would . There were those out there who walked in fear every day that this could happen to their own child or loved one.

How do I know this? Because people are out there. Watching a loved one with depression and or anxiety that becomes so crippling that there seems to be no hope. Often when depression and/or anxiety becomes so encompassing the person hides it and those around them hide it. The stigma, embarrassment, helplessness, and even denial are all rolled into one.

We must push all those to the side, be brave, ask questions, check in with those we know are struggling, especially our children no matter what age. They WILL push us away. They WILL roll their eyes. They WILL hide under good grades and smiles to fool us into not worrying. They WILL get angry. They may self-medicate and do self-harm. Do not be afraid to have those awkward conversations, there are resources on HOW to have those questions and WHAT to ask. Do it, it may be awkward and painful but it could save the one you love most, nothing is ever to awkward for that.

https://seizetheawkward.org/

Returning to the Path

No matter what stage or phase of life our children are in we worry. We worry when they are infants, we worry when they are toddlers and school age, and then tweens and teens. We worry and hope we can keep them healthy and happy through all those bumps and then send them out into the adult world to be successful. We want to create a path for them that has some bumps and curves but not too many, and especially not those paths they can’t get back from.

Being a parent of younger children is tough, tough work. Being the parent of soon to be adult children and then adult children with anxiety and depression can be even tougher. When the boys were toddlers and even older I never knew how easy it was-I took it for granted, now before you go “What?”, hear me out. A toddler touches the hot stove, we respond with some first aid and usually all is good. A toddler tantrums because he or she doesn’t want to go to bed or throws a fit in the grocery store and we can put him or her in his room, maybe a time out in the car. It usually is a loud but short in duration event. Usually.

But when our soon to be adult or adult children are hurting with mental wellness and veer off the path we wanted for them it is HARD. It can be very loud OR even worse-very silent and often far too long in duration. They are far away from us physically, geographically and often pull away from us emotionally in their quest to be independent or hide their embarrassment. We can’t put them in the bathtub for a long bath and then a nap that makes it all better. We can’t sit them down in a time out and say “come out when you are ready”, they honestly may not know how. We see them hurting and we try to help, we offer food, exercise, counseling, outings, hobbies, activities, we spray and pray and hope that something sticks.

We hope the path of mental health they are trudging through gets better-less weeds, less curves and overgrown areas. We want them to see an arrow or two that says “Go here”, and they look at it and think to themselves, “OK”. We want them to see that with some small changes and more then anything that with open eyes and mind the path can get clearer, prettier-breathtaking actually.

Guess what? It can and it does, hang in their friends, keep fighting to return to the main path, it is out there. All those things you are trying sometimes stick. And sometimes the best way to help is maybe to stay on the path behind them.

Carrying the Load

The first photo you see is one of my favorite quotes, “It’s not the load that weighs you down, it’s the way you carry it.”. I truly believe it. We all have have things we carry in our hearts and in our brains. Some things we carry can bring us joy and laughter but I really feel the quote pertains to those loads that may break us if we are not careful. How do we carry our loads, do we drag them swearing the whole time? Yes, sometimes we have to. Do we swing them up on our shoulder and say to ourselves, “I got this, I can carry this one-even for a long time?”, sure we do. Do we sometimes carry it for a short time, set it down to rest and pause and then keep on carrying? Yes, I believe we do all of those. Which leads me to a true story about carrying and loads.

I recently went to a workout session at our local track with our board members Sarah and Lisa and our sandbags. We do that sometimes. On this Sunday we had talked about paddle boarding after or some more outdoor time when Sarah throws out, “We could take the bags and hike up M Hill”. I about threw up in my mouth, I kid you not. Lazy paddle boarding or HIKING up a hill with our without a sandbag- hiking is not my thing, ask Lisa. I of course said sure because I always like a challenge and doing things that are hard are good for us, AND I am competitive and hate being the quitter in any group. Sarah then said, “We can switch off sandbags, because holy cow Cher’s is waaaayyy heavier then ours”. With that we piled in the car and away we went.

We start the climb and do a small hill with our personal bag and when we get to the next incline Sarah says switch and she precedes to carry my heavy bag to the top. We switch again and Lisa carries my heavy bag all the way down. Now this is not a story about physical accomplishment or even teamwork. This story is a metaphor/symbolism with a connection to something bigger. And do feel shame that I carried my own bag the least amount of time? Nope, and here is why:

It is also about WHO helps us carry our load and sometimes without even asking and then, LETTING them. See, on these Sunday’s we often share our fears about the loads we have and it feels SO good to put them out there, to have someone else hear it and say “Ugggggg, that is bad” or “I am sorry”, or often just nod and say nothing at all. It is OK to say I am struggling and I need someone else to support me for awhile. We have to be able to let someone help us with our load and how we carry it so it doesn’t break us. This day it happened both physically and emotionally, and it always feels so damn good after.

That is part of my work here and my wish for people who read my ramblings-because they truly are that. When we are trying to navigate better mental health or dealing with a mental health crisis of a loved one the load can be so damn heavy and we are afraid to reach out, embarrassed to share or to prideful. We don’t have time for that nonsense friends. EVER

I hope you think about how you carry that load and what support you might need, and find a who or two along the way that will lift your burden from your heart and brain, even if just for a few minutes. Let them.