Oxygen Mask Moments – Page 5 – Put Your Own Oxygen Mask on First

One Year Later

July 15, 2019April 17, 2022Meg

A couple of weeks ago, a good friend commented that she couldn’t figure out how I have time for everything I am juggling currently. From trying to keep up with my writing to spreading the word about the MAIA Impact School to keeping things together at work and at home, I am busy with a capital B. This got me thinking – where did the time and head space for all of this come from suddenly? Ostensibly all of my responsibilities are the same, so what changed?

I spent some time reflecting on this question and I’ve come up with a couple thoughts. One factor, surely, is that my kids are older. With greater self-sufficiency on their part, I have a longer leash. The time saved by them being able to apply their own sunscreen, tie their own shoes, or put on their own snowsuits is immeasurable. Well, okay, it’s probably 5 minutes each day, but those are some of the more tedious daily demands of motherhood so these milestones matter.

The term “labor of love” also keeps popping into my head. While all of my current endeavors involve work, time, and sacrifice, they also fill my cup. My life is purpose- and passion-filled, and that’s energizing. I used to have a real problem saying “no” so I devoted a lot of time and energy to activities and jobs that left me feeling depleted – or downright stupid and worthless. I am just slightly more strategic about how I spend my time these days. When time becomes a precious commodity, even the most self-sacrificial person learns to guard it more wisely. While I am still horrible at saying “no,” often lapsing into its almost worse cousin “maybe,” I do appear to finally be learning a modicum of boundary setting. Ahhh, your 40’s are good for something!

All that is meaningful and certainly adds up. However, I also lost my aunt this year, the amazing Fancy Nancy, and that sent me into an emotional morasse for a bit. The start of this calendar year I found myself sluggishly crawling through the days after she passed away, trying to get my head around the idea that this woman who was my guiding light and kindred spirit was suddenly gone. I quite honestly still can’t believe it. But these days when I feel scared or uncertain or sad, I can hear her faint but clear voice whispering, “Go. Live!” I think that she has made me braver and more determined.

And then there’s the fact that we moved our mom into a memory care facility last June. As the anniversary of that absolutely gut-wrenching decision and day came and went, I marveled at what a difference a year can make. I knew as my mom’s primary and long distance caregiver that I was working hard on her behalf, and I was aware that her well-being took up a huge amount of space in my life, but until she was settled into a care home I had no idea exactly how much.

Initially, the interventions necessary for my mom to maintain a mostly independent life were relatively minimal. Over time, as the course of her Alzheimers progressed, though, I spent more and more time triaging issues: making health care decisions, as well doctor and dentist appointments; ensuring communication about appointment outcomes and necessary follow up; staying on top of prescription medications; acting in an HR capacity hiring, replacing, and advising aides; organizing payroll and the weekly schedule; paying bills; sorting through clothes that no longer fit and paperwork that was piling up in her office; fielding calls from her aides and her friends with questions, observations, or concerns, and then doing the research to determine if what we were seeing was to be expected and what to do about it. That’s just a sample. Countless other little things would come up to turn an otherwise uneventful day into a fire drill.

For a while, it was all worth it. And then last spring after a visit to see her, I got the distinct sensation that we had reached the zone beyond the peak of the bell curve. My efforts to prop up my mom’s faux independence were less and less noticed by her and more and more consuming for me. I spent incredible amounts of time working on my mom’s behalf, but had almost no time to actually spend with her. After some intense reflection, I realized that if she had perspective on the situation, she wouldn’t want me to feel so sad and torn between my life with my young family and my responsibility for her life hundreds of miles away. And with that knowledge, I began to visit, and eventually chose, a care home for her.

I’ll tell you what. That process, culminating in leaving her for her first night there, was utter hell. I literally cried into my dinner of a bowl of ice cream accompanied by a glass of wine the day I moved her in. I then put myself to bed early, like an overtired, weepy child, both missing my mom as I grieved this moment in our lives and feeling overwhelmed by the responsibility for her happiness. Rationally, I know that’s crazy – you can’t make other people happy – but I still wish I could sometimes.

So here we are one year later. She is in fact perfectly happy. I don’t know that she has had one unhappy day since she moved to memory care. Her life exists in this exact moment. There is no past to dwell on, no ruminating about the future. There is just right now for her, and she seems to be quite amused by it. She knows she is loved, by the staff at her home as well as her family, and I think that’s what she always wanted. She has always been guided by what is in her heart, and that emotional clarity remains.

For me, I am my mom’s daughter again, not her business – heck LIFE – manager. It is one of my greatest joys in this mostly horrible Alzheimer’s journey to have my mom close to me again. She doesn’t know my name, but she knows I am hers (maybe her sister, maybe a friend, but sometimes “her little girl”). She lights up when I walk into the room and trusts me absolutely. We go for walks, and we have lunch. Sometimes I just stop in for 15 minutes to check on her. She comforts me when I cry, not understanding at all that I cry for her, for who she was.

Our mom always wanted us to be fulfilled and happy, and whatever our passions were became hers. She championed our efforts and was our biggest fan – always. One year later, I have achieved more balance and found greater purpose. One year later, I spend less time applying sunscreen to others, and more time with my mom. While I am still my mom’s biggest advocate and primary caregiver, it’s not all-consuming. This unexpected time in my life and space in my mind have allowed in more joy and light. If my mom could understand, I can visualize the smile that would break across her face and how her chest would swell in satisfaction. I am doing the best I can with the cards I’ve been dealt, and playing them to the best of my ability. Just like she and her sister taught me. Go! Live!

Extraordinarily Ordinary

May 31, 2019April 17, 2022Meg

This weekend the skies were clear and blue, the breeze a gentle relief from the heat. You never know what you are going to get around here, the only guarantee is that you can’t count on it. For months the weather has been soggy, gray, cool, and grim. So when the sun is actually shining; when you go outside and don’t have to brace yourself against the chill or run back in for another layer; when your rainboots and umbrella are traded for sunscreen, and the wind isn’t even ruining the moment by blustering on, it feels rather miraculous.

One of the most extraordinary aspects of this weekend, though, was that apart from the weather it was totally ordinary. We didn’t have tickets to a big event. We didn’t go on a trip. No big plans or agenda. We gathered spontaneously with friends. We went to a BBQ. We rode bikes and played in the backyard. There was actual time to pause and reflect and, gasp, relax. It was totally decadent in its simplicity.

It’s one of life’s great ironies that the pursuit of more actually results in less. If you are treadmilling your way through life, manically pursuing more and governed by the next event on your schedule or to-do list, remember this: the deepest and most profound fulfillment doesn’t come from things to do or from things you buy. What matters most, what sustains us through the darkest days, where the real magic lies, is in noticing and cherishing life’s small moments, in teasing them out amid the fray of responsibilities, challenges, and disappointments. They happen organically and in some of the most mundane circumstances (and they are also, usually, free).

Find joy every day.

Delight in the small pleasures.

Be compassionate.

Embrace ordinary.

Live with gratitude.

While you are here, check out my Resources page! I have just updated it with a new material!

In Honor of the Extraordinary W. S. Merwin

March 28, 2019April 12, 2022Meg

W.S. Merwin, United States Poet Laureate and winner of 2 Pulitzer Prizes for Poetry, author of The Wonder of the Imperfect (among many, many other poems), and founder of the Merwin Conservancy passed away on March 15, 2019.

I admit quite readily that I am no poetry expert, and I have only been to Hawai’i once. I cannot possibly honor the full depth and breadth of Mr. Merwin’s life and works, so today I am posting a collection of tributes and poems by those who knew him best.

What captured my attention and admiration was Mr. Merwin’s authentic, genuine approach to life. He lived his life his way, with a gentle, persistent faith in the renewal of a forest, and of humanity; with a constant striving and belief in his art, his work, the natural world, even or especially when it was contrary to the mindset of the day. He modeled for us what happens when you find your passion and you stick with it. He lived his values with integrity.

The most healing thing you can do for your mind and your soul is to become more aware of your surroundings, to take a deep breath and appreciate what’s around you, to care about the world we live in, and to be uniquely and passionately you. W.S. Merwin lived that ethos his entire life. Take some time to get to know him and the incredible legacy of his poetry and his palm forest. Today, in his honor, let the antidote to the ridiculous pace of life, the absurdity of the political shenanigans we are subjected to daily – to whatever ails you – be gratitude and moments of joy for this life, for this day, for being authentically you, having hope, and following your passion.

Rest in Peace, Mr. Merwin. With sincere gratitude for your example and your teachings,

Meg

Garden photograph credit to Mr. Larry Cameron

https://merwinconservancy.org/2019/03/poem-of-the-week-for-the-anniversary-of-my-death/

https://merwinconservancy.org/2019/03/pulitzer-prize-winning-poet-w-s-merwin-passes-away-at-91/?fbclid=IwAR1tTYbgyRPbAD_GBhLdM5issWC1Jvri-lYsFXoasQgYFrtbbCgOQdKMmvU

http://time.com/5555727/poet-w-s-merwin-obituary-by-rita-dove/

https://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2019/03/18/poem-for-merwin/?fbclid=IwAR3uvgYWLxMaloO4kl6o-SVu5rvb7fUYGOFYDwDKjK90Ms0YnYWKX6Ynfag

Can Your Skin Cream Transform Your Mind?

March 8, 2019April 12, 2022Meg

“Our teachers weren’t kidding when they said we’d take lots of walks and that people in the villages are very content to do nothing. No plans, nothing. I thought I’d handle that well because I, too, like to do nothing. But I only really do nothing for brief interludes during the day, in between finding something else to do. When I sit and knit, read, write letters, make necklaces, etc., I consider that pretty much doing nothing. Here they just sit. It’s not an easy lifestyle to adjust to.” – me, March 2, 1996

I had to laugh when I read this journal entry from my village homestay in Madagascar. In the U.S. we live in a culture that is so go-go-go that I didn’t even recognize that my doing nothing was still doing something. That was true 20 years ago, and it remains true today. I just happen to be more aware of it now. Doing nothing and remembering to breathe are literally things I need to practice. Five minutes sitting still without my mind wandering to a hundred different items on my to-do list is impossible. Truly. Try it and you’ll see it’s not just me! “Monkey mind” is the Buddhist term for the incessant chatter and sense of unsettledness in one’s mind. It looks like this:

Monkey Mind image — This is what a monkey mind looks like; illustration by Lilian Leahy

That phrase evokes images that just crack me up, quite like this Lilian Leahy illustration. The ring-tailed lemurs shown in the following photos that I took in Madagascar also crack me up. They are very Zen. This is NOT what having a “monkey mind” looks like.

Ring-tailed lemur posing

Ring-tailed lemur relaxing in the sun

Ring tailed lemur as opportunist – that banana was not for him

When I was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis, and finally accepted it (that’s another story altogether), I considered all options for how to live my healthiest life given the cards I had been dealt. Besides doing all the regular stuff my doctor asks – take all the prescribed medications, see her every three months, have bloodwork done at the lab regularly, get exercise – I wondered if there was anything else that would help. I had two very little kids when I was diagnosed. And I love leading a busy and active life. I want to be as healthy as possible and have left no stone unturned in my quest.

Having RA has taught me many, many philosophical but also practical things about life. My diagnosis and subsequent eventual acceptance was like a massive 2×4 smacked across the head saying, “ummm, hellooooo, for real, you need to pay attention.” It has taught me about cherishing the little things in life, and not taking any day or any thing for granted. It’s like a constant anatomy lesson – yes! that pain I was wishing could be solved by a root canal is in fact a jaw joint (too bad for me). It has taught me about control, and that it turns out I am not in it. And, it has taught me about how stress and my monkey mind can be implicated in RA flares and general feelings of being overwhelmed.

After a bit of research and a lot of finagling of schedules, five years ago I enrolled in an 8-week course at the Benson Henry Institute for Mind Body Medicine (BHI) at Massachusetts General Hospital. This course introduced me to the term “monkey mind,” not to mention to the fact that I have an extremely active monkey. You may have already figured that out from the sheer breadth of subjects I write about. I am not exactly focused on one thing, rarely one thing at a time, and I am passionate about many!

For the record, I am not one to buy into the concepts of meditation and relaxation easily. The term self-care makes me cringe, as do the words snuggle and cuddle (but that’s an aside). Bluck. All that touchy-feely stuff gives me the shivers. So you could say that I entered BHI skeptical at best. But I figured since I had devoted my time to this, I might as well go all in and have an open mind (pun intended).

Did my life change overnight and was my RA banished for good? No. It takes a long time to learn new habits, and the brain tends to tack back to its well-trod neural pathways. It takes effort and practice to become aware of the mind’s motivation. For me, sitting still and doing nothing were bad words. My inclination is still more towards whirling dervish than calm Buddha.

But I learned an incredible amount about how important the act of doing nothing and sitting still is for the brain. It’s a biological reality that is now backed up with MRI studies and scientific data. The scientifically validated benefits of mindfulness include: decreased stress; reduced symptoms associated with depression, anxiety disorders, pain and insomnia; an enhanced ability to pay attention; and a higher quality of life. Don’t believe me? Check out Harvard researcher Sara Lazar’s TEDx talk on the effect of meditation on the brain.

Or Dan Harris, the ABC anchor who had a panic attack on live television that led him to meditation and eventually to writing the book 10% Happier.

Personally, my most notable takeaway from the course happened on the first night. The instructor flashed a powerpoint slide that read, “If you can’t make room for exercise now, you’ll have to make room for illness later.”

I was already making room, lots of room, for illness. But I wasn’t prioritizing myself. AT ALL. This one quote completely changed the way I viewed my calendar and what was and was not negotiable on it. I began swimming and made it a permanent item on my calendar. I trained myself to take a deep breath every time I come to a stop sign or stoplight. I downloaded a million mindfulness apps (still working on pausing long enough to actually use them).

My message to you is this – skin creams may help with wrinkles and dry skin, but meditation enhances a wrinkled mind.

Breathe. Deeply. And often. It helps.

Serenity Prayer

Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
Courage to change the things I can,
And wisdom to know the difference.

Reinhold Neibuhr

Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

January 17, 2019December 31, 2022Meg

The poet Mary Oliver died today. My favorite poem of hers is The Summer Day, so I copied it here. I especially love the last three lines. It’s a great reminder to pay attention to the details, to find pleasure in the little things, and to remember that we get just one precious life. It is uniquely ours. And we are each unique. So, as Oscar Wilde said, “Be yourself. Everyone else is taken.” Live authentically, with passion, and with love.

The Summer Day

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

from New and Selected Poems, 1992
Beacon Press, Boston, MA

MAIA’s Pioneering Impact

November 17, 2018May 16, 2024Meg

In my previous posts I provided a very brief history and economic background for Guatemala and then discussed the pioneering efforts Colegio Impacto/MAIA is making in educating indigenous girls. Well-intentioned development work happens the world over, but with widely varying intentions and results. Some development creates greater dependency on aide, intentionally or not, versus establishing systems to foster sustainability and independence. Some development work downright backfires. Some development work is positive but incremental, which can be okay depending on the circumstances. And then there are the game changers, those organizations with a belief that incremental change is not sufficient, that the challenge is too acute, and that a new approach is needed.

So, what’s the magic formula that creates a successful development project? I wish I knew the answer to that question! But I don’t and I don’t currently have the capacity to embark on a scientifically evaluated study either. I can, however, outline the components of an exemplary development program based on what I saw with the MAIA program.

Norma Bajan is the MAIA Impact School program’s Country Director. She is an intelligent, empowered, courageous woman, who has an amazing story to tell. Follow this link to read the text of the speech Norma gave at the Amplify Her Voice Annual Event in Colorado, in which she describes her childhood and her journey to where she is today.

Norma is a Mayan woman. And it is she who leads the MAIA program in Guatemala. She has a tremendous partnership with the Executive Director, Travis Ning, and incredible support from the U.S. Board, but the program is based in Guatemala and run mainly by indigenous people. And that is by design. MAIA aims to empower the local community and the U.S. team endeavors to be so successful in doing so that they work themselves out of a job. Norma, her colleagues, and her Guatemalan Board want change to happen in their country and also to honor their culture. As a result, the Maia school program covers the traditional subjects one would expect from science to math to writing and reading. But the students also study Kachiquel, their native Mayan language, alongside learning fluent Spanish and some English. The positive aspects of the students’ Mayan heritage are incorporated while the girls study new academic and social skills. Home visits and mentoring and other aspects of the program go beyond the typical school day to foster new ways of communicating and relating in the girls’ homes and their communities.

Travis and Norma, Ribbon-Cutting Ceremony

Norma Bajan and a Student

In sum, the MAIA development model is exemplary because it: demonstrates strong, selfless leadership; maintains healthy, cooperative partnerships (between the administrative team, the Guatemalan Board, the U.S. Board, and their allies and supporters); reflects a community-based approach that is culturally appropriate; is an incubator for best practices from all over the world; and is completely open source, sharing their knowledge and experience with 30 local organizations per year. The MAIA program inspires emboldened self-sufficiency and long-term stability and sustainability. What more could a parent hope for for their child, for their family’s future, for their country, than that?

See what I mean? Hope springs eternal, and human connections – to each other and to our own humanity – are the link.

Some days you need a little time to breath

November 16, 2018April 12, 2022Meg

It turns out that setting up a little bloggy-blog takes a bit more time and has a steeper learning curve than maybe would have been expected. I spent most of my “writing time” yesterday on formatting and figuring out this blog platform situation (oh, yeah, and chaperoning a second grade field trip). So I am going to take my own advice and step back for a minute and take some time today to breath and catch up.

For today I am posting a few pictures of the beauty that is Guatemala as well as one of my favorite quotes. Stayed tuned for more on Colegio Impacto/Maia and Guatemala; on community and friendship; on more local stories of hope and courage; on my personal reckoning after a diagnosis with Rheumatoid Arthritis; on my journey in caring for a parent with Alzheimer’s. But that’s all for another day…

The Guest House by Rumi

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

Please go ahead and share the good word!

Please go ahead and share the good word!

Please go ahead and share the good word!

Please go ahead and share the good word!

The Summer Day

Please go ahead and share the good word!

Please go ahead and share the good word!

Please go ahead and share the good word!