Tag: encouragement

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SCI Wish List: Helping Hands

It’s my birthday. It’s my birthday! Today!

As the Girl Scout motto encourages, “Always be prepared.” I used to always prepare a written or mental wish list of suggested gifts for my birthday and Christmas. Although I love giving gifts, to a fault, at this point in my life, I prefer no gifts. After our family tended to my mother’s things after her death, it gave me a whole new perspective on stuff.

First of all, what we surround ourselves with are our own personal preferences. They aren’t necessarily another’s taste. Who will want them after we’re gone?

Secondly, I have acquired all that I need. It’s time to begin passing on those things that I know my loved ones like. Why wait? I’ve enjoyed them. It’s their turn.

Now, when asked what I would like, it’s a service that I request. Living with a SCI, it’s usually something I can’t do for myself, like: planting flowers that brighten my yard and light-up my days, arrange a bouquet from those that already bloom, pull dastardly weeds, make a favorite dish, a ‘drop in’ for a visit, or a transport and accompaniment to an appointment or errand.

Daily, life presents its demanding schedules and impromptu requirements. Expediency takes precedence in our busy-ness. Quality time is at a premium and my greatest treasure. For my birthday this year, with my deceased mother in mind, I requested some of her favorite food fare and helping hands from my sister and youngest niece.

For our lunch, (control your gag reflex, or your appalled, “WHAT!” response) I asked for Mother’s garlic sandwiches, her cottage cheese side dish, Zoe’s pimento cheese, and tea.

Because my sister knows how I love flowers, she picked Zenias from her neighbor’s prolific garden. (She says Jan can “spit” on a seed and it produces an orchard.)

For Mother’s garlic sandwich recipe, she rolled de-crusted whole wheat bread flat, spread a thin layer of softened butter and freshly pressed garlic on each slice then, rolled them into “shotgun slugs.” MY FAVORITE! Mother used to bring me a dozen or so to keep frozen until I needed one…or two.

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For Mother’s cottage cheese side dish, she combined cottage cheese, onion, and cucumber with a generous portion of coarsely ground pepper. OMG!

On my “3-seeded” wheat bread, we spread Zoe’s cayenne pimento cheese, and sliced some plump, juicy vine-ripened tomatoes, also from Jan’s garden. YUM!

After lunch, Candace acted as my hands to help me place a very special symbolic collection of items into a shadowbox to hang in my bedroom. See!

Calling to my heart
Calling to my heart

Its contents are: a small Indian doll, I have kept since childhood, and an arrowhead. With hair braids, dressed in white leather, the doll represents my Native American Cherokee roots; an antique china picanniney baby with bushy hair plaits representing mixed children that I love and never got to adopt; a small map of Ethiopia, and a charcoal sketch of an Ethiopian woman sent to me from a ministry I support in Addis Ababa. I’ve had a heart for Ethiopia since my early teens after reading about Solomon and the Queen of Sheba; and a colorful silk embroidery of a Chinese woman dressed in the traditional Cheongsam, a piece of their currency, and a hand-carved wood elephant representing my love for Asia.

Happy Birthday, to me!

P.S. Don’t expect others to read your mind. When I told my sister what I wanted, she was totally surprised, but selflessly giving.

I hope your birthday is as special!

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“Do be a ‘Do Bee.’ Don’t be a ‘Don’t Bee.’”

You baby boomers should recognize this from Romper Room!

Mr. Do-Bee was an oversized bumblebee who taught the children proper manners. His sentences began with, “Do Bee good boys and girls for your parents!” Of course, there was a Mr. Don’t Bee to teach what not to do.

At the end of each show, Miss Fran (?) held up her magic hand–held mirror, without a mirror, and looked (into the camera, directly at you) to see if you were being good and what you were doing? She always called out the name of the children she saw in “televisionland,” saying, “I can see Johnny and Frankie and Susie and….”

When she held up her magic mirror, my anticipation swelled, only to be deflated when my name wasn’t among the seen. I secretly wanted Miss Fran to see me through her magic mirror. I wanted her to tell me that I, too, was being good. She never did; nor did anyone else, until I was in high school.

I was the middle child between a much older, athletically-talented, popular big brother and a younger baby sister. Not to upset the family status quo, I learned early to take care of myself, to be quiet, and to not make waves. Independence and self-sufficiency became my emotional BandAids.

Unconsciously, we all adopt coping mechanisms for our particular family dynamics. Until we cognize our limiting beliefs, we subconsciously continue our adaptations to environmental, emotional, mental, and physical circumstances with the exact coping behaviors established in childhood.

Toni Morrison brought a subliminal emotional message to my mental attention when she challenged with this question: “Does your face light up when your child (or anyone, for that matter) comes into the room?”

We come into this world wired for parental love and approbation to feel we’re seen so most of us notice if our gaze meets theirs with joy and pleasure. We also see  critical, judgmental scans scrutinizing outward appearance, dress, hygiene, and behavior. It’s in these instances that we conclude: we’re not special. The beauty of who we are isn’t seen.

For me, the abrupt juxtaposition of SCI into my active, appearance-driven lifestyle ushered in positive waves of inner transformation- a double whammy. Not only did I notice other’s avoidance to see me, I began to see that my manners resembled those of Mr. Don’t Bee. Patience, kindness and gratitude called for my attention.

Just as the constant, faithful flow of water breathtakingly sculpts the earth (or hideously erodes landscapes), life interruptions (SCI, disease, illness, grief, depression) are opportunities to smooth down our sharp edges for beautifying change, in spite of other’s “sharp edges.”
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“The constant dripping of water sculpts the stone.” is a paraphrase of the Latin proverb, “Gutta cavat lapidem.”

Rumi got to the point: “If you are irritated by every rub, how will your mirror be polished?” Again, a double whammy: we are responsible ONLY for adjusting our insecurities NOT other’s…concerning anything!

If you’re resisting making character changes as the result of “whatever interruption” is in your life, your rough edges remain. If only you would embrace the irritating rub to mirror your polish.

As Miss Fran said, “I see Matthew and Macie and YOU in computerland, BEcoming THE BEST YOU”bumblebeeDo be a ‘Do Bee.’ Make honey from your bitter flower!

P.S. For a food for thought smorgasbord of how disability nudged me to smooth my rough edges, nibble on my book, HOW TO BE THE BEST YOU http://booklocker.com/books/6811.html

 

 

 

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Sails of Optimism

There’s plenty of research correlating that our bodies, able-bodied and disabled, respond to what we think and believe. (I talk more of how I learned, and continue to practice, this in my book, HOW TO BE THE BEST YOU, in “As A Man Thinketh.” http://booklocker.com/books/6811.html) In addition, I believe that our bodies not only “eavesdrop” (Chopra Deepak) on our thoughts but also believe them, negative or positive; so, I choose to see/envision what I want to believe will happen.

Since my brain, eyes, and heart co-habit one body, my heart’s desire is to see what I believe. I watch, in my mind’s eye, my nerves innervating whatever muscle I’m struggling to move since becoming disabled, as I progress through my day or as I exercise. Whether I feel defeated or have almost fallen, some days I even watch myself stand up and walk.

Any way you look at it, whether it’s physical return or emotional adjustment, time heals. If you’re a new SCI, caregiver, or friend, give yourself/patient/friend a two-year post injury pass to accumulate answers to impatient questionings. Continue therapy, positive thinking, and planning for the future—like it will turn out as you hope; tweak as you go.

After the second year, introduce yourself to the new you, happily making your acquaintance. By then, you’ll have a good perspective of your abilities and will have gained a new respect for the champion you’ve become, no matter what.

Although there are occasional setbacks with any SCI, my body’s sensation level took another leap after 36 years. I barely had any sensation the first two years post injury; it’s improved slowly but surely, as have my confidence and problem-solving skills dealing with and eliminating the occasional curve balls life with SCI tends to throw.
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sailboat on water Just remember: acceptance doesn’t mean dropping your anchor wherever you are in your recovery today. It means embracing where you are, in case you’ve reached your physical plateau, but keeping your optimistic sails open, not to miss even the gentlest breeze of progression.

While my body hasn’t fully evidenced what I’m believing, I’ll continue working toward it, believing that I’ll see it…with a finger up in the wind!

 

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Be Your Favorite Color

Here’s the hook: The only way to find out what “be your favorite color” means is to read my new book, HOW TO BE THE BEST YOU-from A to Z. It’ll be worth it!

My purpose for writing Views…was to share a little of my journey adjusting to disability and to open discouraged hearts with hope. No matter the life interruption, there IS life after. As a follow-up, HOW TO BE THE BEST YOU is to open eyes and minds to discover that purposeful future.

Aware of the many advanced self-improvement books written by highly educated doctors, PhDs, scientists, etc., I decided to write one on an elementary level, a four-part 101, of things that worked for me. I begin with leading clues to discover the real you, and how-to get to know yourself after losing touch.

Part Two is the common denominator for the sober awakening that life has passed us by—the impact of thoughts on physical, spiritual, emotional, and mental health.

Part Three offers 6 states-of-mind to assist in identifying what roadblocks may have detoured you on your journey of self-discovery. They are: boredom, denial, excuses, laziness, fear, and ingratitude.
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And of course, a tongue-in-cheek Part Four on my deep thoughts to stimulate yours. Like, what’s a burp? And, how-to prevent them; as well as, a chapter on the association, connection, and benefit of color in our lives. You CAN be your favorite color!

No matter what has delayed the fulfillment of your destiny—never knowing, parental brainwashing, incident/disability, or forgetting—it’s never too late to discover your north star, your passion and purpose in life.

P.S. Because of the fancy formatting, fun fonts, and novel use of color, HOW TO BE THE BEST YOU http://booklocker.com/books/6811.html  could not be converted for iPad, Nook, and Kindle readers. It’s one-of-a-kind! I’m working on a PDF for you who are digitally addicted.

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Pause For A Cause

I don’t talk much about my problems or the disheartening ramifications of my SCI. I take them to God. That’s where I vent my frustration, cry, and fuss. Then miraculously, I can suck it up, redo whatever, or start over. I believe ‘start overs’—second chances—begin in hope. It’s the pauses that make it possible to start over or to cut a new trail in the actualization of new dreams. Let me use the comma as an example.

A comma is a punctuation mark that represents a pause to the eye of the reader. Whether used to delineate a list, give emphasis to a word, separate words and phrases of words, the comma gives clarity of interpretation. Like in the saying, “Life is just, not fair.” the comma clarifies that happenings in life conform to some fact or reason, although they may not be fair.

For instance: My car ran off the road, up an embankment, and flipped back down onto the road, landing upside down on its roof. The wreck was caused by the fact that my rear tires had a blowout. My SCI is its result. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t something I deserved. It happened.

As with the saying example, I used a pause—the comma after “just”—to accept it, re-evaluate, and clarify my options then, reconfigured my old dreams and created new ones.

WITHOUT the comma/pause, the sentence reads: “Life is just not fair.” Have you omitted the pause that could give clarity to your situation/disability/illness? In belligerence or bitterness, have you ricocheted off every hopeful course of action offered to you to better your life, to adjust to disability? Do you find yourself repeatedly boomeranging back to the same bad attitude of ingratitude and self-pity? It’s a self-fulfilling prophesy only you can change.

We ALL experience dashed hopes and broken dreams, but is that any reason to quit hoping, to stop dreaming, or to punish others because you have? Since we’re promised nothing more than today, why not begin today with a clarifying pause.

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In recognizing there is a problem, you open the mental windows for fresh ideas to circulate. The desire to do something about the problem(s) is the door to your freedom. Then, the choice to make the changes puts you on the path to fulfilling your purpose.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             My

My first book, Views From My Chariot: A Wheelchair  Oddity http://booklocker.com/books/6235.html , is a beginner course for you to recognize fresh ideas that will revive your hope after a SCI, resuscitate mental clarity for strength to push forward, and encourage you to open the door to a promising future that awaits you.

Once you make the choice to open the door to your future, my second book, HOW TO BE THE BEST YOU-from A to Z, coming SOON http://booklocker.com/books/6811.html,
is somewhat of a follow-up—a how-to find yourself, rediscover your heart, change your ‘stinkin’ thinkin’, and take a detour around the roadblocks to fulfill your destiny.

My hope is that you do. Let me be a part of your turnaround, your start-over, your happiness, and your life’s fulfillment. Then, please tell me about it.

We’ll all benefit from your success!

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Beware: Karma-BANG! BANG! DUCK!

We’re all familiar with the Eastern philosophy of karma: the inevitable action of bringing upon oneself results, good or bad, of our own actions, or “What goes around, comes around.” Here in the Bible Belt, it’s referred to as “The Golden Rule”: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. What personal messages (PM) are you sending out…that inevitably come back to you?

Optimistically, we are always kind (in word and deed), patient, sympathetic, and loving, to the Nth degree. SURE!

In all honesty, you KNOW there are times when you deliver impatient, arrogant, and hateful PMs in a variety of ways: in exasperating return lines, home interruptions by telemarketers, misunderstood orders by outsourced telephone assistants, garbled orders (and prices) in drive-thru food services, road rage reactions, frustratingly persnickety family members, and sadly, on-and-on.

My question is not only to those of you adjusting to disability, but to anyone wondering why life seems to always give you lemons: What boomerangs back at regular intervals in your life? Misunderstandings; relational discord; exclusion from social gatherings; perpetually being over-looked for that promotion; constipated cash flow; recurrent health issues; bad luck? If any of these strikes a cord, you may be the one plucking it.

I’ll illustrate my point with the analogy of ammunition. Much like shooting a shotgun, unresolved issues detonate emotions. There may be lots of issues/pellets loaded into the shell (repressed emotions) or one big issue/slug (volatile emotions). Wrapped in the subconscious, they lay loaded, cocked, and waiting to explode their charge.

When the specific volatile and toxic emotion is triggered, a single projectile of words or actions like the metal slug, or lesser bullet, is aimed to murder its downrange target. Always looking out for a particular perpetrator’s profile, this person is ever-conscious of their injury. This is a stalker/predator hunting style. Vengeance is theirs.
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Then, like the number of smaller pellets wrapped inside a shotgun shell, are the more common repressed emotions from childhood, adolescence, and/or adjustment issues. They have become so enmeshed in our temperaments and relational styles that the emotion triggered is associated with a personal affront or putdown.

In a compulsive need for self-defense, and in ignorance to the cause and effect, the disabled and the able-bodied alike shoot off verbal ballistics. BANG! BANG! Stinging words scatter; more whelped offenses. Remember: What you sow, you will reap.

In PART TWO of my book, HOW TO BE THE BEST YOU http://booklocker.com/books/6811.html,
I offer a strategy of brain exercises to train your out of shape, disabled brain. You will learn to strengthen those flabby mental muscles that have offered no resistance to out-of-control thoughts. You will realize their continued circuitry—mulling them over and over and over in your mind, fires up the same emotions as the original words/action/offense did.

DUCK!

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When Reality Bites

I’m a dreamer and a visionary. Some call me unrealistic; I’m creative and think out-of-the-box. Some say I’m too particular. I’m an unrelenting doer aka stubborn; and a rebel, because I’m not tied to the status quo.  Since living with a SCI, my body also has a mind of its own.

There are days that my fingers rebel–they don’t want to bend, grip, or squeeze. For those times, I’m realistic. I keep plastic glasses and unbreakable dishes, go without make-up, dress in something that goes over my head, struggle with hygiene issues, and drop LOTS of things.

When my fingers are cooperative, my hands decide to drop what my fingers want to hold, like my litter scooper. That’s when it’s easier waiting 24 hours to, literally, “pick up” hardened clumps of litter from the litter box than to scoop them.

On any of these given days when my reality bites (ramifications of disability), or the day thereafter, you will find one or more of the following items strewn on the floor throughout my home: magazines, books, pens with their to-do list or notebook, pillows, dental picks, my hair brush, my cat groomer, broken glass, scattered espresso grounds with brown streaks of espresso running down my cabinet (and brown wheelchair tracks when I forget they are there); even a meal, partially dried and thoroughly stuck to the floor under my oven. C’est la vie! (That’s life!) Or, that’s (only a SMALL part of) my life.

To add insult to injury, I used to be a neat freak; still am, somewhat. To keep my sanity, and sense of humor, I’ve learned to let go (pun intended) of what I can’t control. That doesn’t mean that I don’t cuss, cry, or throw something in frustration. It simply means: I push on. Quitting isn’t an option. (Read the “I quit. No, wait. Never mind.” chapter in my book, Views From My Chariot: A Wheelchair Oddity http://booklocker.com/books/6235.html , for expensive frustrations!)

You can call me unrealistic, particular, stubborn, and/or a rebel. I don’t mind; you’ve a right to your opinion. But…

I KNOW: Thinking out-of-the-box to solve daily limitations and their frustrations instead of complaining about my circumstance, has brought me contentment and peace.
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I KNOW: Being persistent and determined to live as independently as possible instead of expecting someone else to take care of me, has given me that independence. I’m grateful for it.

I KNOW: In respecting my life and well-being more than fearing other’s judgement of how I live it, I am gratefully responsible for, and happily free to reach, my potential.

I KNOW: As a result of dreaming and believing in my abilities instead of succumbing to a disability, I’m living my purpose.

Are you?

When reality bites, bite back…with a bulldog grip!

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Blue Bird Days

For several years after embarking on my chariot (wheelchair) ride, I experienced a brooding sadness. No one knew about it, only me. After the second year, I pinpointed it to occur for a couple of months in the fall. It dissipated as subtly as it appeared.

In the third and final year, I realized it was a mild depression. This sadness resulted from my association with the month of my SCI, September, and the loss of participating in favorite fall activities and exhilarating winter sports. This realization began my resurrection.

I had already grieved the death of sojourning the remainder of my life via feet (although I do believe in miracles). Now, it was time to bury old dreams and resurrect new hopes.

I leased an apartment in a newly completed complex. I recall the prediction of a possible evening snow. With the late-night news came the announcement that, indeed, it was snowing.

I threw on a shawl, wheeled out to the sidewalk, and laid my head back as silent snowflakes sifted softly onto my face. I lingered there for the longest, drinking in the peaceful beauty, and praising God, out loud.

Yes, I remember wondering if my neighbors thought I was crazy; but my joy trumped worrying about what they thought. I missed the snow. Just because I couldn’t ski or cross country in it, didn’t lessen my delight. I was in heaven. (A “crippling” half-inch accumulation of snow caused all schools to be closed the next day. What?)

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In recognizing my sadness, I could open the mental windows for fresh ideas to circulate. My desire to do something about it, to find happiness in other ways, was the door to my freedom. Choosing to make the emotional change adjusting to disability, put me on my healing path.

My first book, Views From My Chariot: A Wheelchair Oddity http://booklocker.com/books/6235.html , is a beginner course for you to recognize fresh ideas that will revive your hopes for a promising future after disability, resuscitate mental clarity for strength to push forward, and encourage you to open the door to the productive, fulfilling future that awaits you. It’s your choice.

Still, snow is rare in Alabama, but that doesn’t limit my experiencing it. Warren Miller Entertainment provides me vicarious thrills “catchin’ air” around the world. Mostly, they film heli-skiing and backcountry skiing, WAY beyond my expertise. But this way, everyday is a blue bird day on champagne powder for me!

“On your left!”

SWUSH!

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Dear Family,

I don’t have many disabled friends, although time and again, friends and friends-of-friends give me numbers to call of people adjusting to a disability, disease, or illness. In addition to living with a disability, my counseling experience seems the perfect fit. I can listen with an empathetic ear, answer personal questions, and offer practical solutions for daily living. Before moving away, one of these women became a dear friend.

She was a go-getter. Obstacles were met with determination. She thought of tomorrow as the result of what she made of today. She was, and I’m sure she still is, a trooper. We lost touch after she and her husband moved. It was fun with the both of us rolling around together in our homes. I hadn’t been in a room full of wheelchairs since rehab!

From all the conversations getting to know my comrades-on-wheels, with the exclusion of my friend Julie, this is what I’ve found: Most succumbed to disability.

Understandably, they were faced with the drastic lifestyle change. And, the added stress of dashed dreams, the uncertainty of tomorrow, and pressure to adjust before the impact of the new reality had sunk in, brought an emotional tailspin—depression. This is when family is most important, although it was their families that seemed to be the insurmountable barrier to their emotional freedom and physical independence.

Caustic remarks fueled emotional eruptions. Innuendos, hints, and sarcastic tones of unspoken resentments from care-giving family members were destructive to all; particularly, the ones with broken wings. They couldn’t fly away to safety, and healing. They were sentenced to flop around and be pecked by unkindnesses.

The saying, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” is untrue. Words wound, as well.

Family should be a safe environment nurturing us back into a productive life. Even so, it’s difficult for you who love us to stand back and watch the struggle—dressing, feeding, wheeling ourselves—when you could easily do it for us. But, we must be allowed the struggles. This not only increases our endurance but also our confidence toward independence.
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Independence requires we care for ourselves, apply make-up, or shave. Adjustment asks for time for our doubts and confusion to settle. In time, we gain confidence on the slippery slope of acceptance toward a healthy adjustment. Please encourage us to hope, to make plans for a new future. When the time comes, we will have learned we will be okay on our own. After all, this is true for anyone.

We don’t like feeling helpless. We don’t like feeling we’re a burden. Help us be neither.

We are aware that it’s a difficult adjustment for you. We do know you’re suffering, as well. Your dreams for and with us have been altered. You miss the way we were. You feel guilty because you do. It’s natural. It’s okay. You have your own adjustment. Together, we can do it.

Once we gain emotional freedom, prove our independence, and begin to laugh again, you can push us around.  We’ll accept a freebie, any day.

THANK YOU!

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Extraverbalism

One intention for my blog articles is to stimulate thought; not just for the disabled, but for the able-bodied as well. Whether it tweaks a fundamental change in thinking, sparks a revelatory “aha moment,” or brings a view-enlarging paradigm shift, I want you, my readers, not only to be satisfied, but also to be challenged to be the best you.

Reading for information’s sake is a great learning tool, but self-examination and introspective questions result in self-enlightenment and personal growth.

Something Diane Sawyer said made me reconsider my equation for learning. If I’m not mistaken, it was a question asked of her by her father one afternoon after school. It was: “What questions did you ask today?” not, “What did you learn today?” though a good, necessary question.

We can deduce that that provocative question shifted her perspective, propelling her to become the renowned investigative correspondent/anchor she is today.

I was painfully shy in my younger years, and resembled the age-old adage, “Children should be seen, not heard.” It took years, and then some, to realize the self-centeredness of my shyness before I could perform as an extrovert. I had to learn how to carry-off the extrovert personality while having the temperament of an introvert. I learned how-to through required reading for a counseling course.

Most clients, and friends, come to therapy to “talk through” whatever they need help and resolution with. You want to draw them out with questions.

You also need to be a skilled listener; not only to what is said, but also to what isn’t said, in order to ask the poignant questions. I began using these methods with friends, colleagues, and new acquaintances to learn more about them, and to practice my extraverbalism.

Through inquiry, you can learn as well as teach. With the right line of questioning, a question can answer itself for the person being asked the question, an aha moment for them.

For instance: Someone has been burning your ears with insults, complaints, and criticism of a person they know. Ask: “Are you angry with so-in-so?”

In that instant, their ragings will boomerang back in their consciousness, registering their anger. Whether motivated by jealousy or envy, they’re mad about it.

You can also learn through intuitive translation.

Body language validates the truth, or exposes the untruth, of the spoken word. For example: Someone walks up to you, introduces themselves, shakes your hand with, “So nice to meet you.” then backs away.
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I don’t think so! If they were glad to meet you, they would remain within a comfortable space to carry on a conversation. If not, they may have issues with their own personal space.

You might then ask, “Are you uncomfortable?” The question lets them know you see them and understand. Even if they deny it, the question will provoke thought.

The more questions I ask, the more interested I become. The more interested I become, the more I learn. Amidst the conversation, the other party becomes the center of attention and leaves thinking I was a great conversationalist.Truth be told, we like hearing ourselves talk.

The juxtaposition of becoming an inquiring extraverbalist while being an introvert did not belittle who I was. It was not a character compromise. It made me a better me.

What changes have been incubating in you?

Are you ready?

Do it!

Become the best you. No one else can. http://booklocker.com/books/6811.html.