Sunday, January 21, 2018

My Epiphany about Routine

The Saint Croix Boom Site in Minnesota. (Wikipedia)


This morning, I woke with a smile. In a dream, I was riding a bicycle in Stillwater, Minnesota. I pedaled down the town’s quiet streets, out into the grassy hills of the countryside, over the train tracks, and back home along the road by the St. Croix River.

Waking, I remembered with great delight those days when I was in my late thirties and early forties. I’d get up each morning, dress in jeans and sweatshirt or shorts and T-shirt, wheel my bicycle from the garage, and take off to complete a five-to-ten-mile ride. Once home, I’d eat, shower, dress, and drive to work.

I did that every day for several years until an accident landed me in the hospital for four days with a shoulder broken in three places. Ten weeks of therapy followed.

In the accident, the bike became a twisted tangle. Moreover, a day later, a fellow bicycler, threatened by a dog, fell, banging his head against the curb. He died instantly. The ruined bike plus fear led to my giving up bicycling. For many years afterward, I walked three to five miles a day until the vertigo, dizziness, migraines, and imbalance of Meniere’s entered my life.

Now we come to the nub of this posting: a report on how I’m doing in establishing a routine this year. I posted about that just two weeks ago. Within days I’d mostly lost my devised schedule because of Meniere’s and an Arctic blast that plummeted our temperatures into the minus-zero range. Sleet fell. Then snow covered the ice, so walking became dangerous.

Besides that, Meniere’s brought with it several days of imbalance when I felt off kilter. I walked like a drunken heron, swaying from side to side. The words on the computer screen blurred, tilted, became italic, and then Roman. All in all, an Alice-in-Wonderland sort of experience.

Thus, in the past two weeks, I’ve seldom walked, done no yoga, read only a few blog postings, worked a little on my convent memoir Prayer Wasn’t Enough, and felt somewhat defeated by my inability to “make” my body perform at my command.


Then epiphany: This past Thursday I woke with a light heart. Lying in a window’s width of sunlight, I realized that the day offered me its own possibilities if only I’d embrace them. I accepted the truth that in the past three years of ill-health I’d begun to dwell on what I wasn’t able to do. I’d been grieving for the Dee Ready who rode that bike, walked those miles, was ready for every new adventure.

With clarity last Thursday morning, I realized that even though I wasn’t what I once was, I was someone new. I tell you that today I’m ready to explore who Dee Ready is at 81—82 in April! What can she accomplish? What meaning can she find in her life? What can she do to make life better for others?

I have wanted to write my Morning Pages, take a walk, follow the yoga DVD, complete the first draft of my Bronze-Age-Greece novel, read your blogs. All that gives me satisfaction.

But with resolution I now simply want to “go with the flow” of the day and be grateful for what it offers me—health or weariness, writing or resting, being creative or simply being in the moment. I want to embrace what is and let go of what was.

In the past two weeks, have you suddenly realized something that you now treasure? Something that gives life more savor? If so, I am happy for you, as I am for myself. Peace.


22 comments:

  1. Quite some time ago I realised that the bad habit I had fallen into of defining myself by what I can't do (or what 'normal' people could do) was depressing me. So I have made (and still make) conscious effort to avoid that pitfall.
    My abilities change with the day and the season, but always open possibilities and hope up to me and for me. For which I am very, very grateful.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dear EC, it is a pitfall and in the past three years I've fallen into it! I so like what you said about abilities changing with the day. That's a wonderful way to think of it and I'm adding it to my thinking as I awake each day. And it's so true that each day offers possibilities. I just need to do a better job of looking for them. Like you, I am grateful for these realizations. Thank you, Sue, for adding to them. Peace.

      Delete
  2. I'm reveling in you epiphany. And, I love that word, epiphany. I have so many. I follow them until they peter out. I miss the lost epiphanies. I love the new ones. I can't remember what I read, but I read any way. I try to write what I'm thinking. That is the hardest struggle, but I do it, not because I must reach a goal, but because I can. As you and your morning sunshine concluded, "I'm here. I can." So I do something. I don't cook, though. Never will. Love and light.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dear Joanne, I so admire the way you have responded to your self and your body since the accident last March. It's so true that we can say, "I'm here. I can." Thank you for reminding me.

      You don't cook. I don't drive. But I just relish all the things I can do. And I know you feel the same. Peace.

      Delete
  3. I am able to follow a well established routine every day, but I sometimes find that an illness or a setback will remind me that it should never be taken for granted. Life has a way of helping me establish activities that fit the day, rather than a preconceived idea. Sending you lots of hugs, Dee. Thank you for this uplifting post. :-)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dear DJan, that's it! I've been taking a routine for granted and then getting uptight when things didn't "flow" as I wanted them to. That approach is, as you say, a "preconceived idea" about my day.

      Thank you for saying the post was "uplifting." Your posts always seem that way to me. They introduce me to some new idea or book or movie or way of approaching life. I so admire your curiosity and generosity of spirit. Peace.

      Delete
  4. Thank you for sharing such INSPIRATIONAL story of your life my dear friend Dee!!!

    you lifestyle was inspiring even before the accident and after it though fear took over and you felt low and helpless which is justified by the situations you encountered with meanwhile
    Yet what beautiful ,encouraging and daring decision you have made to accept the the reality and step forward to new beginning with strength and will power and this is what you really are ,tough times pushed you down for while but here you are up again to rise and shine like a string undefeated soul and acknowledge all that you have and live with gratitude and positive attitude ,i am proud of you my friend !!!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dear Baili, I do feel that this is a "new beginning" for me. I'm going to be much more gracious to myself. Much more accepting of who I am now. Your comments are always so encouraging. Thank you. Peace.

      Delete
  5. Thank you for reminding us not to dwell on what we no longer can do but to enjoy what we still can. The former is an easy rut to get into and it takes thought to practice the latter. I do still love those dreams though when I have a young body and endless energy. At least we are given those moments to enjoy.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dear Patti, it's so true that I've been in a rut. Now I'm going to start appreciating who I am today and what I can do.

      Like you, I love those dream of youth--the wind tangling my hair as I ride that bike! Peace.

      Delete
  6. Dee, I'm 72 and love waking up with a smile from a dream of when I was young or my kids were babies, family all still around. It's strange because I'm very aware at the time that the people in my dream may not be with us anymore... but it doesn't matter as I'm so happy to be seeing them. I always consider these dreams 'a gift'.

    Also, while there can be satisfaction in routine... there is also something for 'going with the flow'. Some days may be very productive, while others are simply reflective. It's all good.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dear Rian, Like you, I consider dreams about those who have peopled my life to be gifts from Holy Oneness.

      I so like the way you divided the days: some "productive" some "reflection." Thank you, that second word will help me be gracious to myself when I'm not "producing"!!!!! Peace.

      Delete
  7. I have been living the blahs for awhile now and don’t know how to get out of them. We live in a crisis driven world, friends are leaving, and my energy is at a new low. However, the sudden warmth we had this weekend renewed my spirit and I am embarking on a new exercise program. Day 4, and I haven’t given up yet.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dear Arleen, the blahs really have the ability to sink us in the pit of apathy. I've had them off and on for the past three years and so I have sympathy for what you are going through.

      When I realize that blahs/apathy is happening, I try to figuratively take myself by the scruff of the neck, shake myself out, and say, "Ok, Dee, what could you do today that would give you pleasure?" Usually there's a fairly ready answer.

      It sounds as if you have done that by embracing the weekend's warmth (I hope you did something good for yourself then) and by embarking on the new exercise program. To already be on Day 4 is cause to celebrate.

      I know that when I walk around the block, the endorphins kick in and my spirits rise. It's then that I'm more gracious to myself and don't demand too much. I can be such a taskmaster to Dee! I wish you peace and a deepening belief in yourself.

      Delete
  8. I think as we grow older it can be difficult to enjoy the memories of all the things we have done in our lives without nostaogia and sadness that we can never do them again as our limitations grow. I have a hard time reconciling the fact that I can never travel like I did or walk as much as I have. For me, the cure is calling up an Attitude of Gratitude and getting on with something I can do. Even if I don't feel like it.
    I love that you woke up Thursday morning ready for a new adventure based on who you are now, knowing that there is still plenty of good stuff, and even new stuff, out there to be enjoyed. Go get 'em Dee!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dear Cynthia, like you, I so believe that gratitude brings everything into perspective. I am grateful for the past and when the present becomes the past I will be grateful for it also. But already I am grateful that I have decided to self-publish so as to share with others the words that come to me when I sit down to write.

      Soon I'll be publishing a convent memoir and my hope is to publish this year also a novel and another cat gift book. But I know that all my plans are tentative. Still, I dream big! The gratitude and the dreams content me. Peace.

      Delete
  9. Wow, Dee, I hadn't realized you'll soon be 82! As a 93-year-old friend of mine would say, "You're young!" But I, at nearly 58, also understand health challenges, and I appreciate your epiphany. I had a recent one, a bit more than two weeks ago, about writing essays: I realized the essays I've had published were expressing something I had "seen," much as do the photos I take while out walking. I hope to blog about this thought, sometime soon. Thanks for asking your question and for sharing your good insights.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dear Deanna, we "see" in so many ways--all our senses in a way can see deeply into what others might call and obvious fact and think no more about it. Thank you for sharing your epiphany. I look forward to reading your reflections on it in your blog posting. Peace.

      Delete
  10. Migraines have taken the wind out of my sails. All that I enjoyed and had success in had to be curtailed. an open heart invited God to reveal other joys. I am grateful.

    A marvelous epiphany, Dee.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dear Susan, I so understand about migraines. I have them also. Not only are they extraordinarily painful, but they "waste" me. They totally deplete me. So the next day and maybe beyond that I am just wiped out.

      Your attitude is inspiring. I've never thought of the pain as opening my heart to other joys. Thank you for that wisdom. Peace.

      Delete
  11. Oh my I do think we have pretty much the same elements which pretty much forced me to give up all my outdoor hobbies... and migraines who similarity of hangovers keep me from alcohol. I introduced my young sons to canoeing and fishing on the St. Croix before we took on the BWCAW and later the Canadian Wilderness. And of course the perfectly clear lake north of Stillwater whose name escapes me which was perfect for scuba diving and the drive in theater across the bridge in Wisconsin and... well you get the idea. :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dear Troutbirder, I'm wondering if you aren't thinking of Square Lake, which is north of Stillwater. I picnicked there with friends and enjoyed the beach and swimming.

      With regard to the BWCA, my brother came up with a buddy from Missouri three times while I lived in Stillwater. They entered the Boundary Waters from Ely. I was the stopping off place for a shower and a shave when they left to go back home!

      Do you still get to canoe and fish or is that a closed chapter in your life now? Peace.

      Delete