this morning i used tracing paper to transfer a picture i had drawn to a new page in my sketch pad. unfortunately, i had used the wrong colors on the original page. i was able, very easily, to recover the drawing so that i could start over again. so what to do with the original page? either i could tear out the page or keep it as a reminder that the process of drawing is not about perfection but about learning as i go.
i have a tendency to replay in my mind poor choices made that have been embarrassing. i wish i could take them back. i don't want people to remember me for those choices. on the other hand, how can i grow unless i learn from my mistakes and move forward.
regretting usually leads me into self-berating which, in turn, can lead to depression. that is a road on which i wish to avoid. the alternative is learning from my mistakes. but what does that mean?
learning takes place when behavior change comes from change in intention and attitude. as a child, i scribbled on grandma hughes' metal cabinet at church with permanent marker. after denying the deed, i finally came clean to my mom. i was not allowed to have dinner at her house until i apologized. stubborn me delayed the inevitable, but eventually i apologized. grandma wasn't angry with me... she was hurt which caused me to re-think my behavior. i would do anything NOT to hurt grandma. i never had a desire to use permanent markers that way again. even though i had to see my graffiti after that, it was alright. after all, grandma had forgiven me... and we moved on.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
S T R E T C H . . .
i knew that navigating retirement would require a stretch in other areas of my life. here are two examples from the last week.
1. i laughed while on a traction machine. it seems i have a bulging disc which is being expressed in a number of symptoms throughout my body. cortisone shots and traction are being tried first. a stabilizer holds my neck in place while the traction device stretches my spine in the hope that the disc will move back into place. yesterday, as i was hooked to a device that was adding 3 inches to my height, three thoughts fueled my laughter:
"ok, stephen, you wanted to be stretched by new post-retirement challenges. here you go!!"
"how many laughs does this device usually generate?"
"now you know how gumby feels."
it was quite the one-person party.
2. i just received a letter from my doctor at the cleveland clinic. jeff chapman, who is my pulmonologist, is leaving the cleveland clinic for a position in abu dhabi. i cried, realizing how much i rely on him. after all, he has been with me from the beginning of this disease. but travelling to abu dhabi for my quarterly check-up probably would be out of the question.
frequently after the initial shock of a ended relationship, a person will do something to feel more in control...
an indulgent purchase..
a different hair style...
a new hobby...
reconnecting with an old friend...
so on the recommendation of a friend who has a similar disease, i have contacted his physician at the university of cincinnati. for me, this is a huge deal. many times i have felt controlled by the whims of this disease. and now one of my mainstays is gone. so contacting the physician gave me some sense of control. no one will take the place of jeff, but building a new relationship with this doctor will be very important.
1. i laughed while on a traction machine. it seems i have a bulging disc which is being expressed in a number of symptoms throughout my body. cortisone shots and traction are being tried first. a stabilizer holds my neck in place while the traction device stretches my spine in the hope that the disc will move back into place. yesterday, as i was hooked to a device that was adding 3 inches to my height, three thoughts fueled my laughter:
"ok, stephen, you wanted to be stretched by new post-retirement challenges. here you go!!"
"how many laughs does this device usually generate?"
"now you know how gumby feels."
it was quite the one-person party.
2. i just received a letter from my doctor at the cleveland clinic. jeff chapman, who is my pulmonologist, is leaving the cleveland clinic for a position in abu dhabi. i cried, realizing how much i rely on him. after all, he has been with me from the beginning of this disease. but travelling to abu dhabi for my quarterly check-up probably would be out of the question.
frequently after the initial shock of a ended relationship, a person will do something to feel more in control...
an indulgent purchase..
a different hair style...
a new hobby...
reconnecting with an old friend...
so on the recommendation of a friend who has a similar disease, i have contacted his physician at the university of cincinnati. for me, this is a huge deal. many times i have felt controlled by the whims of this disease. and now one of my mainstays is gone. so contacting the physician gave me some sense of control. no one will take the place of jeff, but building a new relationship with this doctor will be very important.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Flipping the switch
sitting in the dark watching my lava lamp is mesmerizing. it sits atop our roll-top desk, casting a warm glow on the wall and the ceiling. the beauty, mystery, and slow moving drama of the pink blobs floating in a purple liquid make it something to relish.
next to me is a full-spectrum light i purchased to make the color of my pencils more realistic. as an added feature, it brings a more sharp, vibrant color to the coffee cup, the candle, and other nearby objects.
to enjoy, all i have to do it turn on the switch.
these winter days bring a mystery of their own. my calendar is dotted with doctors' appointments and physical therapy sessions. not on the calendar but ever-present is the pain i experience. the four daily cocktails of medications help my body to function, but each of them have side-effects which in some cases include pain.
in some ways, pain is like light. it holds the mystery of why. it bring the present into clear focus, and it adds drama to my day. it cannot, however, be turned on and off with the flip of a switch.
but i can turn on my perception of and my attitude about it. one choice is to focus on the pain itself, which brings with it a feeling of helplessness. but when i focus instead on the things i can do in spite of the pain, i am filled with hope. it hurts to cook or to draw, but it also hurts when i don't. so why not do those things i enjoy?
pain management is not trying to stop the pain. that just doesn't happen. neither is it about denying it's existence. that can only lead to poor choices. rather, it is about enjoying life while living with it.
next to me is a full-spectrum light i purchased to make the color of my pencils more realistic. as an added feature, it brings a more sharp, vibrant color to the coffee cup, the candle, and other nearby objects.
to enjoy, all i have to do it turn on the switch.
these winter days bring a mystery of their own. my calendar is dotted with doctors' appointments and physical therapy sessions. not on the calendar but ever-present is the pain i experience. the four daily cocktails of medications help my body to function, but each of them have side-effects which in some cases include pain.
in some ways, pain is like light. it holds the mystery of why. it bring the present into clear focus, and it adds drama to my day. it cannot, however, be turned on and off with the flip of a switch.
but i can turn on my perception of and my attitude about it. one choice is to focus on the pain itself, which brings with it a feeling of helplessness. but when i focus instead on the things i can do in spite of the pain, i am filled with hope. it hurts to cook or to draw, but it also hurts when i don't. so why not do those things i enjoy?
pain management is not trying to stop the pain. that just doesn't happen. neither is it about denying it's existence. that can only lead to poor choices. rather, it is about enjoying life while living with it.
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