Friday, September 9, 2016

Positives in the pain

September 7  is never an easy day for me. It was many years ago on September 7 that I began a journey I would never have chosen for my life ever.  Living with a condition that has caused severe chronic pain and been progressively physically disabling has not been easy. But this year  I determined that instead or moping or feeling sorry for myself on September 7, I would write an article counting the many positives that have come from my challenging journey, focusing on the good God has brought into my life.

Thank you to The Mighty for publishing my article on September 7.  You can read it on their website (double click on the word "website") or for your convenience I've copied and pasted the text from the article below.

17 Positives That Have Grown Out of My 17 Years With Chronic Pain

Tomorrow is a dark “anniversary” for me.  As of tomorrow, I will have lived with a severe form of chronic pain for 17 years. It will be 17 years since I lost my ability to take a single awake breath without an awareness of the constant pain I live with or to move my body easily and freely the way I once could.



September is Pain Awareness Month, and I’ve read some good articles about chronic pain, including the negative impact chronic pain has on a person’s life in a way that is hard to understand unless you’ve walked in these shoes. I’d be the first to agree it is hard. It’s a condition I’d never wish on any person, ever. It’s not something I would ever have chosen for my life. Like most people I had big dreams for my life, and chronic pain has been a thief that has stolen and/or rearranged many of my dreams. I’m not happy about living with chronic pain.
However, in every situation in our lives, I believe we have the opportunities to see the positives alongside the hardships. We all have a choice to choose joy in the circumstances, whatever they may be. And so, as I sit on the eve of my 17th year with a condition I never would have chosen but is nonetheless part of my existence, I choose joy. And I choose gratitude. And I choose to seek out the positives that have come in my life out of this most challenging situation.
1. An iron will. Having to fight so hard for 17 years has made me iron-strong. My body may struggle but my spirit has become strong. Every day that I’ve had to fight against the pain, every time I’ve had to self-advocate or fight against the stigma that can accompany a chronic pain diagnosis, every time I’ve had to choose joy in the darkness and a spirit of light even when my body is in agony… that has made me strong. Every time I’ve had to face another loss, be it my chosen career as a physical therapist
or the ability to easily speak, walk, drive, and be independent in the way I wish I could be… that has developed in me a spirit of iron and a drive to never give up. Ever.
2. Resilience. I know what it is like to face loss after loss for 17 years. And yet, again, we all have a
choice to be joyful. I can choose hopelessness or I can choose to keep facing each day with hope and a determination to eke out whatever joy can be found.

3. Self-advocacy. I’ve had to learn to become a self-advocate in a way that other people may not have had to. I was never a child who could stand up for herself, but as an adult I can do that very easily. I’ve learned to stand up for myself in a way that is positive and not harsh, using a diplomatic, gentle manner that nonetheless fights for my rights in a way that helps others increase their understanding.

4. Empathy. I used to be pretty self-focused, unaware of the hurts and needs of others. Living day in and day out with a medical condition that has caused me to struggle and physically suffer has opened my eyes to those around me. I’ve learned that we all struggle in some ways in our lives, and I hope that my own experiences have developed within me deep compassion for others.
5. Peace. As a child and young adult I lived with high levels of anxiety. As I sought out various alternative treatments for my chronic pain over the years, I came across novel solutions that have brought me to a place of peace. Things like deep breathing, relaxation, reshaping my thoughts, and reading about novel philosophies have taught me how to relax my mind, body, and spirit.  Peace is now my way of life.
6. My relationships. I used to be a highly competitive person and my relationships reflected this.  Through my 17-year battle, I’ve relaxed my standards for myself and become much more accepting of the people around me.  My aim is to be gentler and more loving.
7. Self-acceptance. I used to be incredibly hard on myself. I still try to set high standards, but to an
extent I’ve learned to give myself a pass when I don’t measure up or succeed in the way I want to.
8. A new understanding of failure. Likewise, I used to fear failure as the worst of enemies. Living in a body that simply cannot do all the things I want it to do or to experience has caused me to fail at various stages in my life, teaching me that failure is OK. It’s not to be feared, it’s part of life, and it can be a conduit to further learning, growth and maybe even success.
9. Gentleness. My own failures and struggles have taught me the importance of gentleness, not just with myself but with others.

10. Figuring out my strengths. Having faced so much failure and loss has surprisingly shone a bright light on my strengths. For example, although verbal communication is a challenge for me, written communication is an area of strength.  Writing has not only opened doors for me, but has allowed me the ability to communicate well to others what it is like to live with chronic pain, be an adoptive mom, and live a life of joy in the face of difficulties.



11. Creativity.  I’ve had to become creative to an extreme level these past years. Chronic pain has taught me to seek out novel solutions to difficult problems and this creativity has translated into other areas of my life. I have become, over the years, a solution seeker.



12. My kids. Because of my condition, having children the regular way was not an option. However, this opened up an amazing pathway six years ago to adopt a beautiful then-10-year-old daughter who has been the light of my life. And, last week another wonderful surprise happened! My daughter’s older biological brother moved into our family and it is an incredible gift to have him join our nest.
13. The gift of modelling to my kids every single day how to get up despite struggles and do what one can to live a good, positive life. My kids live with disabilities and challenges, and I hope that as they see me daily strive to live well despite my own disabilities and challenges that they witness a strong example that stays with them all their lives.


14. An enhanced ability to advocate for my kids and to access needed disability-related supports for them based on the advocacy skills my own journey has taught me.
15. Humility. My ego has been knocked down many times through this experience and that is not
necessarily a bad thing. I’ve learned that I don’t have to be the best at things and that my inner confidence can remain unbroken even in the face of my weaknesses or what I perceive to be the judgement of others. I’ve come to know deeply who I am, and to love myself for the woman I believe God has made me to be, flaws and challenges and all.

16.  Experiencing true kindness of others and the creation of a strong support system. I’ve
had so many people bless my life with kindness, from a team at my church who have brought me a meal every single week for the past several months; to my husband who has loved me faithfully for many years despite the challenges; to friends and family who have walked alongside me on my journey with great compassion; to my caring home care nurse with whom I’ve forged a special bond.

17. A realization that life is an incredibly precious and wonderful gift. While I would do anything to regain what I’ve lost, at the same time the losses of some of my abilities and activities have taught me to utterly cherish what I still have. I don’t think one can walk through the deepest of darkness without developing an appreciation for how wonderful light is. Going through very difficult circumstances for 17 years has opened my eyes and created an awareness in my spirit of just how precious life is and how lucky and blessed we all are to live in such a wonderful world.

Sunday, September 4, 2016

When love creeps into your heart



                                                  My family has some very exciting news to share: our nest has grown! A few evenings ago a special young man named Joe moved into our home. Joe's younger sister is our daughter Samantha, and in the 6.5 years since we adopted Sam, Joe has become very dear to our hearts. It is with great joy we welcome Joe!  

The other night, a few days before Joe moved in, I sat outside in the cool of a late summer's evening, quietly watching as the sun's last light waned over the darkening sky. As my spirit absorbed the silence of a dawning night, my heart quietly listened, mulled over life, and grew.

I have been contemplating the theme of nests lately, and that night my mind remembered back to when my nest began. Eric and I had been married a few years when we became parents for the first time.
Meeting Sammy for the first time
1st full day together
From the moment I saw our daughter's slight frame shyly enter the sterile social worker's office it was love at first site. As she peaked up at us from a cherubic elfin face I knew deep in my heart I'd love her forever. Sometimes love is like that: fast, instantaneous, a wholehearted diving in with all your soul has to offer.



And sometimes, love comes slowly, creeps up quietly in your heart and nestles in until you wonder how you ever lived without it.




I first met Joe 6.5 years ago as he stood quietly in the doorway of our old house, shyly saying hello as he and his foster mom dropped Sam off for a pre-adoption visit.
Siblings reunited 2010


Xmas 2011
Joe lived in a fantastic long term foster home in
 another town and we and his foster mom made it a top priority to keep the two siblings in close contact with regular visits.
museum 2011

For the past 6.5 years, every month or twoJoe would fly to my nest, perch on the edge for a day or two or twelve... and then fly back home to the safe and cozy nest in which he lived.
Red Robins 2014

Greenhouse

2015
high school grad

Suddenly a few weeks ago we were asked if Joe could come to us.  We had very little time to make a decision, but sometimes you just know in the deepest part of your heart what the right step to take is. This was one of those times. With God whispering into our spirits to go forward in faith, our nest expanded.

And so, on that quiet evening on my back deck, as I sat beneath my
2015
favourite tree and watched the stars slowly appear and begin to twinkle in the darkness my spirit realized what my heart has known for a very long time. I really love Joe.

Moving in 2016!
Joe has now been in our home for 4 days, and yet in a funny way it feels like forever. He is fitting in seamless with the personalities and spirits of our family. His gentle sense of humour, creative ideas, and kindness have been fun to get to know in a new way. I've had fun cooking with him and chatting and hearing some of his ideas (he has great plans to expand the sunroom where I grow a few tropical plants during the winter into an indoor rainforest type of room). 

There is a long line of special women who have loved and cared for Joe over the years, and their love for him will remain a constant in his life. In particular, he has an amazing foster mom under whose care he flourished for the past 7 years and who will continue to play a role in his life; a special Grandmother in Heaven;  and a birth mother he loves deeply.   These women will long be part of Joe's life and heart and I can never take their place, nor do I want to.

winter 2015
However, that said, I am thankful for the unique relationship he and I have and for this new role I am stepping into in his life. I am so overjoyed to have Joe here in our home!  I don't know what the future holds, and that is okay. For, today Joe is here in our nest, and I am thankful for that fact. Whatever the future, my heart is filled with joy to have him in my nest today and to care for him for as many tomorrows as God grants.

Friday, August 12, 2016

On morning's light

Morning has always seemed such a special time to me.  A time when the burgeoning sunlight softly arcs across the awakening world, the angles of it's rays so gentle as they touch each tree or surface, caressing each person who has awoken to greet the new day.

As the dew wafts fresh over the grass, the birds awaken after their night of rest, gently calling to each other across the boughs, connecting again, as they stretch their wings and prepare for the new day ahead.


And so, I was surprised to read a few weeks ago that the light of morning is indistinct from evening's light.  There is no physically measurable  difference between morning and evening sunlight in terms of the light's softness or gentleness of arc. As morning dawns and the sun creeps across our world it is the same in reverse as the arriving of nightfall.

The difference is in our perception.  In how our eyes adjust to the newness of the light after a nighttime of darkness.  And, I would hypothesize, in the softness of our spirits as we awaken to embrace a new day, our hearts open like a little child whose arm is loving touched by the wizened, wrinkled hand of her beloved grandmother.  It is in that moment of touch that all the secrets and truths of the earth are passed down throughout the generations.  Time after time.

Indeed, as with the light of the morning, in life our perception is everything.  It's a lesson I've been learning this week in numerous ways.

It's been a week where I've been deeply reflecting on my life. An ocean's depths of emotions have swelled in my spirit. The life I physically live is very different than how it used to be; there are some physical circumstances in my life I would never choose if given the choice.  And yet, God has seen fit to order my days right now in this exact way.

A few days ago I came across an anonymous quote online that has both taught me much and quieted my soul:
    "Happiness is letting go of what you think your life is supposed to look like and celebrating it for everything that it is." 

I'm learning to trust God that the way my life is unfolding is part of the plan for my life.  That in the quietness Truth speaks.  That, regardless of one's circumstances, peace and deep meaning and calm and creativity and most of all thankfulness are always our choice to live.

 That joy comes in the morning.