When I Was Twenty Eight
Dearest daughter, when I was twenty eight,
I didn't know who I was.
I had not set a value for my own time,
in my mind.
I had only a glimpse of how I wished life would be,
for me.
Less drama, more joy.
Have more fun, be less annoyed.
Just didn't value who I was.
Then my thirties came banging on my door.
I had chosen the family thing and you were one of my precious discoveries.
Precious distraction, as we grew together, we brought me to these days.
I am so grateful.
Sometimes, I hear my tones in your quiet ways.
It's a comfort to think I might still ground you.
I do so love to be around you.
I value you.
I value you.
I value you.
There, the power of three.
Pause for the feeling, so mote it be.
When we are together a constant is renewed.
I watch you calm as the aura settles around us.
Makes me calm and we begin.
I am so grateful.
I fall into step as you create and play and savor the memories.
Like delicately filtered stars, from other night skies.
It's a family role that suits you.
Such beauty in those eyes.
Sometimes,
I think you are looking for the places you still fit.
You still fit.
You always will fit.
That's the beauty of us.
Without us, all the rest just doesn't work right,
does it.
Nancy McEldowney
2011
Friday, January 20, 2017
Friday, March 29, 2013
New Shoes
Red leather shoes,
little red shoes.
For memory sake,
they are my muse.
Little eyes looking,
little hands to hold.
Red leather shoes,
little red shoes.
Tears in my eyes,
and I am six years old.
Sometimes we wander,
when we really should sit still.
Memories to ponder,
like flowers in a jar, on the sill.
One of these days I will stop this spin.
One of these nights,
these old dreams will finally let me in.
One of these moments I will find my true place.
My heart will know,
will know,
will know the love I feel still,
for those red leather shoes.
Little red shoes to fill.
Nancy McEldowney
2011
little red shoes.
For memory sake,
they are my muse.
Little eyes looking,
little hands to hold.
Red leather shoes,
little red shoes.
Tears in my eyes,
and I am six years old.
Sometimes we wander,
when we really should sit still.
Memories to ponder,
like flowers in a jar, on the sill.
One of these days I will stop this spin.
One of these nights,
these old dreams will finally let me in.
One of these moments I will find my true place.
My heart will know,
will know,
will know the love I feel still,
for those red leather shoes.
Little red shoes to fill.
Nancy McEldowney
2011
Been Too Long
It's time to chat.
Perhaps you remember me.
I started this so long ago.
Today is another new day but for now, I hope to bring back some of the kindness this blog used to provide.
You see I have been displaced by the Machine known as Bank Of America and I am still in process. To that end, life is still worth fighting for and love still surrounds me at every turn.
It is Easter soon and the Spring flowers are wonderful for this Winter heart. So beautiful, they are the gift of the season and here I am in the wonderment of the changing times.
The re-location has caused a few other changes for me.
For one, I found new care for my last clients, as they bid me farewell. I understand that it was not necessary but I felt I had trained them to need me for a decade. The least I could offer, before my exit, would be to interview and train caring people who were like minded and trained appropriately.
After all the chaos and loving hugs goodbye and of course, the U-Haul truck, I moved to my mothers area.
Now, every Monday, life is all about her.
She is over-due, it's true.
The time with her is wonderful and challenging and full of hopes for joyful days and wishes coming true for her sweet self.
The clients I have been honored to work with these past 13 years have taught me so many things.
As I create this situation I am reminded of some of you who have contacted me about your parents.
Parents who loved you, who you cherish.
It is true, things are very different when it is one of your own parents. First couple visits I was aching after.
The reality of where those towers of strength end up is harsh, if it is all you can see.
For me, I see her young, best I can.
I hear her voice singing at the piano. I see the ankles I used to watch as she played and pressed the peddles at the floor. Small knees to look beyond. Quiet me, hoping to go unnoticed so the music would just keep going and going along.
Our personal view of our parents can come from how we began our lives. The good things that we took for granted were still gifts.
We just didn't know it, yet.
Now is truly a gift.
I will stay as long as I am needed.
Simply to maintain quality of life.
We all have parents. We all know this is part of the cycle of life on this Planet. Live your life best you can and then make room for those who came after you.
Some of us are blessed to have time with our loved ones.
I am that very blessed person. Every Monday.....
Still, life asks more than this of me and I intend to share what I know, as always.
A woman spoke with me yesterday about her career in the medical profession. She has opened a business of her own and it would seem she is attempting care of the elders in her community. I was so proud of her courage. She has worked in this arena for 25 years but never a business of her own. Courage and love of life.
She told me that she has her first client.
She would enjoy a chat from time to time. Someone to listen to her talk about how things go. Life is change but so often it really does stay the same, doesn't it.
My last months in my Cottage were filled with training meetings and long chats about what it is to decide to be a care-giver.
I am honored and love to help.
I have also begun a book about this career.
The nuts and bolts of it, you know?
I posted a small tease on my other blog.
Perhaps you will enjoy a taste here, now.
From the first pages of my next book.
More than I published on my other blog, I promise.
Introduction
Today is a new day. Every day is a new day. What isn’t new is that thousands of elders spend their days alone and don’t know how to ask for help.
I have been working in the homes of the elderly for 12 years.
It has been a very good life. This was true even when I was dancing as fast as I could, managing sometimes three homes in one day. I worked that hard because the requests were made and the needs were definite.
It is the non-medical care that we will be discussing in this book.
It is the non-medical care that can support the medical staff who work so hard to keep clients alive and able. I have never been comfortable being seen as an alternative to proper medical care. I am here to give you learned insights into common sense care, help and yes, love.
The fact that I am here at all is a strong testament to a need our Country has. A need for people who will extend a hand to the generation of people who paid taxes, voted, built and maintained the cities and towns that we may sometimes take for granted.
They are still here, just quieter and sometimes lonelier than we often understand.
In truth, many elders only find a friendly face in the offices of the Doctors and medical staff, that they require. Too often, it seems like endless appointments to our elders, but I have seen how they are so grateful for the support.
We are busy with our lives and our issues and our opinions.
They were us once, and we will be them, soon enough.
The first person to trust me with her mother was in her mother’s house every day, at least twice. She was so brave to take a chance on me since every care-giver before me, had been kicked out after the very first day. This woman was still hoping for the help with the daily routines her mother required. And then there was the cleaning which was over due. Only so many hours in a day.
My first client was 90 and her name was Marjorie.
She was unique, to say the least. Though she was hard headed and independent, it also took her 10 minutes to walk, with her walker, down her hall from her bedroom to her kitchen. Marjorie’s daughter told me she felt I was a natural fit and though I was new at this, I fell in love with her mother and stayed for all those chats, around her kitchen table. Old cookies, bad coffee and the faint aroma of her cat. It was old, too, and it had a difficult time holding it’s food down. Marjorie understood this kind of challenge so it was no problem for her.
It is easier to get used to suffering that kind of sweet love when you are aware that this someone is merely fighting for their independence.
You find where you fit and you learn to listen. At least you learn, if you wish to do this well.
So, how do you find where you fit? Well, while Marjorie made her way up that hallway, I was in her kitchen, scouring her sink and stove and sweeping her floor. If she noticed, she became angry and would tell me not to work so hard. I just thanked her and told her I liked to stay busy and I promised not to move things so she could always find what she was looking for. Even today, I remember her grins at the results of my intrusions and I wish I could get her to do it for me again. Love, that is what comes of patience and respect and simply being useful to someone who needs you, but does not want you.
This book is meant to be a guide and a reference.
It is also intended to help you keep your focus while you make your way through the days that are waiting for you. Sometimes this life can become a burden and it is important to remember who you are and why you are doing this.
Eventually, you may see them to the end of days.
When your client passes away, and this will possibly be your experience, it will affect you deep inside your dear self.
Be strong and know that you are support where you are really needed.
I have learned, it is most appropriate to honor the life and make your best efforts to disconnect from the life situation you are a witness to.
They are us and yes, we will be them.
Be aware of the life they remember. Honor them for the fact that they are still here. If they managed to get this far in their lives, it is appropriate to simply be useful to them. No judgments.
Helping them stay in their homes as independently as they can, for as long as they can. It is an honor. Be grateful and do the job you wish someone would be doing for you, should you find your body letting you down and your family unable to accommodate your aging self. We can find balance in our aging process if we are open to help and support for our physical needs.
We can celebrate the people who came before us and we can be open to the stories and the memories of the loves and the lives that our clients possess, in their dear hearts.
Yes dear, even when they are shouting and afraid. If you are in their home, you are support. Be grateful for the chance to really be useful in this life.
Let’s begin.
That is all for now. ^_^
I hope that you wish for more.
Just to be here is an honor to me.
I will continue to work on this piece of my life till it is done, and then, perhaps you will find it in your hands. Just remember we are the same. You could see yourself when you look into my eyes.
I am sure I would see my own self in yours.
The gift of choosing to care for anyone elevates the quality of your life.
That truth is unchanging.
For now, just hope to be useful every day of your life.
Celebrate the chance to live.
Cherish the time you can make with your parents.
When this is real for you, make the time to be present.
Make the choice to be good for something.
When you are able to be useful to your loved ones,
it is also a gift to yourself.
Till next time,
love the Springtime, if it is Springtime where you are.
As for me,
I am wandering the deserts of Arizona.
The Springtime here is magnificent.
Always.
Nancy McEldowney
3/29/13
Perhaps you remember me.
I started this so long ago.
Today is another new day but for now, I hope to bring back some of the kindness this blog used to provide.
You see I have been displaced by the Machine known as Bank Of America and I am still in process. To that end, life is still worth fighting for and love still surrounds me at every turn.
It is Easter soon and the Spring flowers are wonderful for this Winter heart. So beautiful, they are the gift of the season and here I am in the wonderment of the changing times.
The re-location has caused a few other changes for me.
For one, I found new care for my last clients, as they bid me farewell. I understand that it was not necessary but I felt I had trained them to need me for a decade. The least I could offer, before my exit, would be to interview and train caring people who were like minded and trained appropriately.
After all the chaos and loving hugs goodbye and of course, the U-Haul truck, I moved to my mothers area.
Now, every Monday, life is all about her.
She is over-due, it's true.
The time with her is wonderful and challenging and full of hopes for joyful days and wishes coming true for her sweet self.
The clients I have been honored to work with these past 13 years have taught me so many things.
As I create this situation I am reminded of some of you who have contacted me about your parents.
Parents who loved you, who you cherish.
It is true, things are very different when it is one of your own parents. First couple visits I was aching after.
The reality of where those towers of strength end up is harsh, if it is all you can see.
For me, I see her young, best I can.
I hear her voice singing at the piano. I see the ankles I used to watch as she played and pressed the peddles at the floor. Small knees to look beyond. Quiet me, hoping to go unnoticed so the music would just keep going and going along.
Our personal view of our parents can come from how we began our lives. The good things that we took for granted were still gifts.
We just didn't know it, yet.
Now is truly a gift.
I will stay as long as I am needed.
Simply to maintain quality of life.
We all have parents. We all know this is part of the cycle of life on this Planet. Live your life best you can and then make room for those who came after you.
Some of us are blessed to have time with our loved ones.
I am that very blessed person. Every Monday.....
Still, life asks more than this of me and I intend to share what I know, as always.
A woman spoke with me yesterday about her career in the medical profession. She has opened a business of her own and it would seem she is attempting care of the elders in her community. I was so proud of her courage. She has worked in this arena for 25 years but never a business of her own. Courage and love of life.
She told me that she has her first client.
She would enjoy a chat from time to time. Someone to listen to her talk about how things go. Life is change but so often it really does stay the same, doesn't it.
My last months in my Cottage were filled with training meetings and long chats about what it is to decide to be a care-giver.
I am honored and love to help.
I have also begun a book about this career.
The nuts and bolts of it, you know?
I posted a small tease on my other blog.
Perhaps you will enjoy a taste here, now.
From the first pages of my next book.
More than I published on my other blog, I promise.
Introduction
Today is a new day. Every day is a new day. What isn’t new is that thousands of elders spend their days alone and don’t know how to ask for help.
I have been working in the homes of the elderly for 12 years.
It has been a very good life. This was true even when I was dancing as fast as I could, managing sometimes three homes in one day. I worked that hard because the requests were made and the needs were definite.
It is the non-medical care that we will be discussing in this book.
It is the non-medical care that can support the medical staff who work so hard to keep clients alive and able. I have never been comfortable being seen as an alternative to proper medical care. I am here to give you learned insights into common sense care, help and yes, love.
The fact that I am here at all is a strong testament to a need our Country has. A need for people who will extend a hand to the generation of people who paid taxes, voted, built and maintained the cities and towns that we may sometimes take for granted.
They are still here, just quieter and sometimes lonelier than we often understand.
In truth, many elders only find a friendly face in the offices of the Doctors and medical staff, that they require. Too often, it seems like endless appointments to our elders, but I have seen how they are so grateful for the support.
We are busy with our lives and our issues and our opinions.
They were us once, and we will be them, soon enough.
The first person to trust me with her mother was in her mother’s house every day, at least twice. She was so brave to take a chance on me since every care-giver before me, had been kicked out after the very first day. This woman was still hoping for the help with the daily routines her mother required. And then there was the cleaning which was over due. Only so many hours in a day.
My first client was 90 and her name was Marjorie.
She was unique, to say the least. Though she was hard headed and independent, it also took her 10 minutes to walk, with her walker, down her hall from her bedroom to her kitchen. Marjorie’s daughter told me she felt I was a natural fit and though I was new at this, I fell in love with her mother and stayed for all those chats, around her kitchen table. Old cookies, bad coffee and the faint aroma of her cat. It was old, too, and it had a difficult time holding it’s food down. Marjorie understood this kind of challenge so it was no problem for her.
It is easier to get used to suffering that kind of sweet love when you are aware that this someone is merely fighting for their independence.
You find where you fit and you learn to listen. At least you learn, if you wish to do this well.
So, how do you find where you fit? Well, while Marjorie made her way up that hallway, I was in her kitchen, scouring her sink and stove and sweeping her floor. If she noticed, she became angry and would tell me not to work so hard. I just thanked her and told her I liked to stay busy and I promised not to move things so she could always find what she was looking for. Even today, I remember her grins at the results of my intrusions and I wish I could get her to do it for me again. Love, that is what comes of patience and respect and simply being useful to someone who needs you, but does not want you.
This book is meant to be a guide and a reference.
It is also intended to help you keep your focus while you make your way through the days that are waiting for you. Sometimes this life can become a burden and it is important to remember who you are and why you are doing this.
Eventually, you may see them to the end of days.
When your client passes away, and this will possibly be your experience, it will affect you deep inside your dear self.
Be strong and know that you are support where you are really needed.
I have learned, it is most appropriate to honor the life and make your best efforts to disconnect from the life situation you are a witness to.
They are us and yes, we will be them.
Be aware of the life they remember. Honor them for the fact that they are still here. If they managed to get this far in their lives, it is appropriate to simply be useful to them. No judgments.
Helping them stay in their homes as independently as they can, for as long as they can. It is an honor. Be grateful and do the job you wish someone would be doing for you, should you find your body letting you down and your family unable to accommodate your aging self. We can find balance in our aging process if we are open to help and support for our physical needs.
We can celebrate the people who came before us and we can be open to the stories and the memories of the loves and the lives that our clients possess, in their dear hearts.
Yes dear, even when they are shouting and afraid. If you are in their home, you are support. Be grateful for the chance to really be useful in this life.
Let’s begin.
That is all for now. ^_^
I hope that you wish for more.
Just to be here is an honor to me.
I will continue to work on this piece of my life till it is done, and then, perhaps you will find it in your hands. Just remember we are the same. You could see yourself when you look into my eyes.
I am sure I would see my own self in yours.
The gift of choosing to care for anyone elevates the quality of your life.
That truth is unchanging.
For now, just hope to be useful every day of your life.
Celebrate the chance to live.
Cherish the time you can make with your parents.
When this is real for you, make the time to be present.
Make the choice to be good for something.
When you are able to be useful to your loved ones,
it is also a gift to yourself.
Till next time,
love the Springtime, if it is Springtime where you are.
As for me,
I am wandering the deserts of Arizona.
The Springtime here is magnificent.
Always.
Nancy McEldowney
3/29/13
Saturday, September 8, 2012
A Strange Man's Complicated Daughter
Honesty and honor,
sound so much the same.
Something like a truth.
A feeling to explain.
Days get so mixed up.
Night comes without a word.
She was always singing,
I don't think you ever heard.
Oh,
she is a strange man's complicated daughter.
A strange man's insincere laugh.
She is a strange man's daughter,
caught now on her own path.
A strange man's complicated daughter.
No tomorrow in his past.
She can laugh so loud.
But she'll cry when she's proud.
She can take a challenge,
even if you get too loud.
Beautiful music makes her face
pour like rain.
The beats and the tones are the
spark to her flame.
Honesty and honor,
sound so much the same.
She fights for her own honor,
but honestly,
she doesn't want to explain.
Yes,
she is a strange man's daughter.
A strange man's daughter,
watch her high wire act.
This strange man's complicated daughter.
Wait, what insincere laugh?
A strange man's complicated daughter.
No tomorrow in his past.
Look for her.
Laugh with her,
fall on the floor and roll.
Dance with her.
Look for those eyes.
Let her feel your peace.
Be her surprise because.....
She is a strange man's daughter.
She may have been his insincere laugh.
She is a strange man's daughter,
caught on her own path.
A strange man's complicated daughter.
A strange man's complicated daughter.
She is a strange man's complicated daughter.
No tomorrow in his past.
Nancy McEldowney
May 2012
sound so much the same.
Something like a truth.
A feeling to explain.
Days get so mixed up.
Night comes without a word.
She was always singing,
I don't think you ever heard.
Oh,
she is a strange man's complicated daughter.
A strange man's insincere laugh.
She is a strange man's daughter,
caught now on her own path.
A strange man's complicated daughter.
No tomorrow in his past.
She can laugh so loud.
But she'll cry when she's proud.
She can take a challenge,
even if you get too loud.
Beautiful music makes her face
pour like rain.
The beats and the tones are the
spark to her flame.
Honesty and honor,
sound so much the same.
She fights for her own honor,
but honestly,
she doesn't want to explain.
Yes,
she is a strange man's daughter.
A strange man's daughter,
watch her high wire act.
This strange man's complicated daughter.
Wait, what insincere laugh?
A strange man's complicated daughter.
No tomorrow in his past.
Look for her.
Laugh with her,
fall on the floor and roll.
Dance with her.
Look for those eyes.
Let her feel your peace.
Be her surprise because.....
She is a strange man's daughter.
She may have been his insincere laugh.
She is a strange man's daughter,
caught on her own path.
A strange man's complicated daughter.
A strange man's complicated daughter.
She is a strange man's complicated daughter.
No tomorrow in his past.
Nancy McEldowney
May 2012
Oh, The Color....Magnificent.
Hello.
These changes to Google are somewhat challenging at times but I have managed to find you, so let's chat.
Today is another new day and I have just now come from a fresh sunrise to celebrate. Oh, the color was magnificent, I can tell you. It is a gift I have been giving myself these past months. A gift to feel and possibly resonate, as I begin each day, here in this little town.
If you follow my writing, you may understand the choices I have been making and the changes that I am creating for myself and my pets.
Luna, my dog who has been happily trained as my cohort in the care of our elders, is loving her pre-sunrise walks. Oh, and also her cookies from the front porch, as the lights turn on around her. She just stares from tree to tree as she can see the leaves and birds again, after the dark was just around her but now simply isn't.
Then, there is our sweet Mo. She is more for Luna as animal company than she is for me. She is a complicated white rescue who owns her domain with fading golden eyes and white fir, like brand new snow.
She doesn't fight so well though her claws are razor sharp. Her problem isn't how sweet and child-like she is, it is her difficulty with eyes that just don't see as well as you might think. We get along but she is independent and wishes to be out of doors as often as she can be. It is tough to be such a sweetheart when Ferrel cats seem to wander up from the desert so often for scraps left behind along alley-ways.
We are in the process of re-locating and building a new life. Our home is another casualty of the Banking catastrophe in this Country. There is no need to explain further. I have protected myself as best as my attorneys were able to help me, and I have created safety for us in our future. It is a process and nothing more. Life is worth fighting for and though I may seem to have been fighting harder than perhaps I would deserve, it is not about what I deserve, but simply what I wish for. I wish for joy.
I will continue to have joy, where ever I choose to live my life.
Enough of how I am doing, let's consider another person today.
Let's consider how life works sometimes and how we can continue to make our choices, even when we pretend to look away.
For these last weeks I have been busy in a, Life Coaching, effort that is aimed at helping a gentleman get himself through a "Substance Abuse" course. He is required to get through this course by the Court that found him unusually affected by something unexplainable, after he was caught speeding on a highway.
This man is a recovering Alcoholic. Which is to say, he used to drink every day and now, does not allow himself a drink, ever. He will always be this Alcoholic man who has given his life to the effort of drinking. He will always resonate the effects Alcohol has on the brain and body, no matter how long he lives. He doesn't understand what the effects have done to him, that he can appear to be altered when he is not. He often, simply lives in his mind and allows for the physical responsibilities he must accommodate.
True, he still finds work and pays for his life as best he can.
True, he is still a good friend to his friends. He is still someone's dad, someone's son, someone's ex-husband. What is also true is that it took an unusual amount of self-abuse to accomplish taking himself down the way he did. An unusual amount of self-deception to defend his actions to himself. Deception so he could leave himself to his self-neglect long enough to find himself in this situation at all.
Enter me.
I am no small effort for him, you can be sure of that. When he becomes frustrated or angry it is my job to help him regain his self control. It is my job to help him understand the words and communicate appropriate words in answer to these triggers, designed to find out how much of his brain he has left. The Court is not in judgement of the man, only the man's ability to drive safely. It is my job to Counsel and nurture this man's efforts along his way, because he is no longer able to see how challenged his choices have left him. He only understands the feelings of frustrations, born of confusion from the effort it is for him now. Days filled with other people who may or may not be altered.
In all his years of practice in the Art of Self-Abuse, he has accomplished believing others judge him as harshly as he judges himself.
It does not serve him but still, it is what he believes is appropriate to believe. This course is teaching him to understand some of the self-deceptions he has nurtured in his life. This course, though harsh sometimes, is a wonderful opportunity to learn what is real. What is not the fantasy his drinking memory has left him with.
Each time we work together it is a four hour effort for both of us to get through. There are eight units, plus a reflection section at the end. As Coach, I must read and often act as wordsmith for him, but he must write the answers. Each time we come together for this effort, I arrange time after, to get through what the triggers do to me, along this path to the clearing of his old scripting. My old scripting finds energy and I find myself learning and clearing along side of him. I am grateful for the personal insights that I discover about my inner dialogues. What I have sometimes allowed myself to say to myself. After all, any person who gives into self-abuse, must create a personal pity party for personal support, along the path of personal destruction. Yes, I said that.
Though I am not in need of the pity-party, I have my own perceptions and triggers in this life. The difference between us as humans is that he allows for self-neglect and self-harms as if they are requirements of his life. I do not. That is to say, I have the ability to perceive what is harming me as something I can maintain a choice about. His personal pity-party helps him see himself as a victim of something larger than he is. Something that controls him and does not allow him enough wiggle room to make changes that would create a better quality of life. The life free of the self-abuse, the self-deception. With each unit, he is coming closer to this understanding. Whether he will make his changes is not for me to discern. It is only my job to give aid to his effort and guidance to his confused and clearly challenged, dear self.
I guess I felt the urge to share this with you because scripting is something we all resonate. But what is meant by personal scripting?
If you consider the home you grew up in, the group of people who were there with you, the community you come from, then you must consider the scripting you were open to. That same scripting you experienced as you grew, as you formed you and your story.
Perhaps scripting is many forms of communicating personal stories to each other. Perhaps scripting is the story we tell ourselves, born from the perceptions we learn to accept, along our way. I don't remember anyone telling me to be gentle as I spoke to myself. I don't remember anyone giving me an awareness of my personal power in this regard. Actually, people were always asking me to speak of my experiences as if the spoken word would remove the memory. I have learned that the spoken word creates the inner scripting and can become something to give life to the inner dialogue. Energy, if you will, that gives power to the lack of silence beneath my surface.
This man is a result of his inner dialogue about his outer world.
When we see each other in a day, it is easier to observe people at face value. Perhaps we encounter conflicts or mis-steps in judgement calls, but do we consider the possible inner dialogue our actions are the result of?
In this world, we are so fortunate to have bodies to work with, lives we are so fortunate to be the story tellers for, scripts we can be the authors of. Ultimately, any interaction is the result of only two actions. Two people, one with perception, the other with intention. It is really that simple. The odds of clear understanding, though very great, are still odds because while one person is busy with one action, the other is working at the other action. The gift is when both actions accommodate each other. Positive results come from the positive intention to communicate well.
In counseling, we are witnesses to the stories of others. Part of our opportunity is to be help to someone who is asking for help. Part of the opportunity is about ourselves and what we consider for our choices, our stories. It is about the story we create, not the story we survive.
Love is necessary in all things and to love oneself is one of our greatest gifts.
This exercise in Coaching is creating a new script for this man.
Often, I have to remind this man that this consequence is about a situation of his own making.
That I was not there when he called attention to himself, in this way. Often, I have to bring his awareness back to the fact that he was arrogant with a man who had a gun on his hip. An officer who had the power to take this man's freedom away. Scripting that does not serve this man, gives him permission to lie to himself about the trouble he caused himself. I do not judge him, he does. It is, Life Coaching, after all, and I am honored to watch this man grow, in my company. I continue to ask this man to view this course as the gift it is. Perhaps, when we complete this course, he will accept the gift his mistake gave to him, as the opportunity it is.
I believe in his ability to love himself in a better way.
I believe that he is growing and that is enough. Enough for now.
As always, I am honored by your interest in my words, my reflections of this life I choose.
As always, I hope for your joy. I hope for your successes in what ever you are working for.
As always, it is all about the love.
Be well and take care of yourselves.
This is a new day. Every day is a new day but today is your next chance at the life you desire.
Love deep, live well and laugh often.
Always.
These changes to Google are somewhat challenging at times but I have managed to find you, so let's chat.
Today is another new day and I have just now come from a fresh sunrise to celebrate. Oh, the color was magnificent, I can tell you. It is a gift I have been giving myself these past months. A gift to feel and possibly resonate, as I begin each day, here in this little town.
If you follow my writing, you may understand the choices I have been making and the changes that I am creating for myself and my pets.
Luna, my dog who has been happily trained as my cohort in the care of our elders, is loving her pre-sunrise walks. Oh, and also her cookies from the front porch, as the lights turn on around her. She just stares from tree to tree as she can see the leaves and birds again, after the dark was just around her but now simply isn't.
Then, there is our sweet Mo. She is more for Luna as animal company than she is for me. She is a complicated white rescue who owns her domain with fading golden eyes and white fir, like brand new snow.
She doesn't fight so well though her claws are razor sharp. Her problem isn't how sweet and child-like she is, it is her difficulty with eyes that just don't see as well as you might think. We get along but she is independent and wishes to be out of doors as often as she can be. It is tough to be such a sweetheart when Ferrel cats seem to wander up from the desert so often for scraps left behind along alley-ways.
We are in the process of re-locating and building a new life. Our home is another casualty of the Banking catastrophe in this Country. There is no need to explain further. I have protected myself as best as my attorneys were able to help me, and I have created safety for us in our future. It is a process and nothing more. Life is worth fighting for and though I may seem to have been fighting harder than perhaps I would deserve, it is not about what I deserve, but simply what I wish for. I wish for joy.
I will continue to have joy, where ever I choose to live my life.
Enough of how I am doing, let's consider another person today.
Let's consider how life works sometimes and how we can continue to make our choices, even when we pretend to look away.
For these last weeks I have been busy in a, Life Coaching, effort that is aimed at helping a gentleman get himself through a "Substance Abuse" course. He is required to get through this course by the Court that found him unusually affected by something unexplainable, after he was caught speeding on a highway.
This man is a recovering Alcoholic. Which is to say, he used to drink every day and now, does not allow himself a drink, ever. He will always be this Alcoholic man who has given his life to the effort of drinking. He will always resonate the effects Alcohol has on the brain and body, no matter how long he lives. He doesn't understand what the effects have done to him, that he can appear to be altered when he is not. He often, simply lives in his mind and allows for the physical responsibilities he must accommodate.
True, he still finds work and pays for his life as best he can.
True, he is still a good friend to his friends. He is still someone's dad, someone's son, someone's ex-husband. What is also true is that it took an unusual amount of self-abuse to accomplish taking himself down the way he did. An unusual amount of self-deception to defend his actions to himself. Deception so he could leave himself to his self-neglect long enough to find himself in this situation at all.
Enter me.
I am no small effort for him, you can be sure of that. When he becomes frustrated or angry it is my job to help him regain his self control. It is my job to help him understand the words and communicate appropriate words in answer to these triggers, designed to find out how much of his brain he has left. The Court is not in judgement of the man, only the man's ability to drive safely. It is my job to Counsel and nurture this man's efforts along his way, because he is no longer able to see how challenged his choices have left him. He only understands the feelings of frustrations, born of confusion from the effort it is for him now. Days filled with other people who may or may not be altered.
In all his years of practice in the Art of Self-Abuse, he has accomplished believing others judge him as harshly as he judges himself.
It does not serve him but still, it is what he believes is appropriate to believe. This course is teaching him to understand some of the self-deceptions he has nurtured in his life. This course, though harsh sometimes, is a wonderful opportunity to learn what is real. What is not the fantasy his drinking memory has left him with.
Each time we work together it is a four hour effort for both of us to get through. There are eight units, plus a reflection section at the end. As Coach, I must read and often act as wordsmith for him, but he must write the answers. Each time we come together for this effort, I arrange time after, to get through what the triggers do to me, along this path to the clearing of his old scripting. My old scripting finds energy and I find myself learning and clearing along side of him. I am grateful for the personal insights that I discover about my inner dialogues. What I have sometimes allowed myself to say to myself. After all, any person who gives into self-abuse, must create a personal pity party for personal support, along the path of personal destruction. Yes, I said that.
Though I am not in need of the pity-party, I have my own perceptions and triggers in this life. The difference between us as humans is that he allows for self-neglect and self-harms as if they are requirements of his life. I do not. That is to say, I have the ability to perceive what is harming me as something I can maintain a choice about. His personal pity-party helps him see himself as a victim of something larger than he is. Something that controls him and does not allow him enough wiggle room to make changes that would create a better quality of life. The life free of the self-abuse, the self-deception. With each unit, he is coming closer to this understanding. Whether he will make his changes is not for me to discern. It is only my job to give aid to his effort and guidance to his confused and clearly challenged, dear self.
I guess I felt the urge to share this with you because scripting is something we all resonate. But what is meant by personal scripting?
If you consider the home you grew up in, the group of people who were there with you, the community you come from, then you must consider the scripting you were open to. That same scripting you experienced as you grew, as you formed you and your story.
Perhaps scripting is many forms of communicating personal stories to each other. Perhaps scripting is the story we tell ourselves, born from the perceptions we learn to accept, along our way. I don't remember anyone telling me to be gentle as I spoke to myself. I don't remember anyone giving me an awareness of my personal power in this regard. Actually, people were always asking me to speak of my experiences as if the spoken word would remove the memory. I have learned that the spoken word creates the inner scripting and can become something to give life to the inner dialogue. Energy, if you will, that gives power to the lack of silence beneath my surface.
This man is a result of his inner dialogue about his outer world.
When we see each other in a day, it is easier to observe people at face value. Perhaps we encounter conflicts or mis-steps in judgement calls, but do we consider the possible inner dialogue our actions are the result of?
In this world, we are so fortunate to have bodies to work with, lives we are so fortunate to be the story tellers for, scripts we can be the authors of. Ultimately, any interaction is the result of only two actions. Two people, one with perception, the other with intention. It is really that simple. The odds of clear understanding, though very great, are still odds because while one person is busy with one action, the other is working at the other action. The gift is when both actions accommodate each other. Positive results come from the positive intention to communicate well.
In counseling, we are witnesses to the stories of others. Part of our opportunity is to be help to someone who is asking for help. Part of the opportunity is about ourselves and what we consider for our choices, our stories. It is about the story we create, not the story we survive.
Love is necessary in all things and to love oneself is one of our greatest gifts.
This exercise in Coaching is creating a new script for this man.
Often, I have to remind this man that this consequence is about a situation of his own making.
That I was not there when he called attention to himself, in this way. Often, I have to bring his awareness back to the fact that he was arrogant with a man who had a gun on his hip. An officer who had the power to take this man's freedom away. Scripting that does not serve this man, gives him permission to lie to himself about the trouble he caused himself. I do not judge him, he does. It is, Life Coaching, after all, and I am honored to watch this man grow, in my company. I continue to ask this man to view this course as the gift it is. Perhaps, when we complete this course, he will accept the gift his mistake gave to him, as the opportunity it is.
I believe in his ability to love himself in a better way.
I believe that he is growing and that is enough. Enough for now.
As always, I am honored by your interest in my words, my reflections of this life I choose.
As always, I hope for your joy. I hope for your successes in what ever you are working for.
As always, it is all about the love.
Be well and take care of yourselves.
This is a new day. Every day is a new day but today is your next chance at the life you desire.
Love deep, live well and laugh often.
Always.
Monday, February 20, 2012
December Prayer At Solstice
Many days, years, lifetimes,
have I lived.
Many moments have I shared.
Many burdens have I accepted,
binding my strengths, thus.
This day is my new day.
This now is my new beginning.
This strength and aliveness is my new then,
yet to be.
Let my happiness be now.
Let my prosperity be now.
Let my sanity and security
be now.
Let my strength support me now.
Let my love shine bright,
and let me feel it now.
For the good of all.
For all time.
Nancy McEldowney
December 2003
have I lived.
Many moments have I shared.
Many burdens have I accepted,
binding my strengths, thus.
This day is my new day.
This now is my new beginning.
This strength and aliveness is my new then,
yet to be.
Let my happiness be now.
Let my prosperity be now.
Let my sanity and security
be now.
Let my strength support me now.
Let my love shine bright,
and let me feel it now.
For the good of all.
For all time.
Nancy McEldowney
December 2003
Bell's Palsy
It is time to chat again.
I am working with someone who is struggling.
As always, I am here to help, though she is cranky and a little aggressive with me.
I have been asked, in the past, if I ever get yelled at, by my clients.
Yes, sometimes I do get yelled at.
Yes, I think it is wrong to unload on me but the world I am working in is scary for most people.
I do this with love, so I allow outbursts, occasionally.
I have been told that the trick I have up my sleeve is that I do not judge.
I accept people for who they are and I make every effort to remember we all come to the table unique, complicated and quite often unaware of the impact we have on those we share company with.
When one of my clients requires my company in the Emergency Room, they are usually so grateful for my attentions. If they are given a Morphine drip for pain, it is like watching a dark light bulb light up. If they are over 70, it is my experience that they are often affected in a negative way. They can hallucinate horrible fears that, many times, they never recover from. Still, our medical community tells me that Morphine is the best choice and the side effects are only a detail to observe.
Sometimes, I observe anger and shouting and even weak attempts at physical harm to me.
This kind of aggressive behavior is immediately forgiven. They are in the E.R. and frightened and so soon disoriented by the medications they are given. I do not fault them or require more understanding than that.
Then there is the occasional place I get to with people who have me in their homes for the different personal assistance they require. Sometimes, I find myself in the company of people who simply give themselves permission to act badly, to the care-giver.
These same people also tell themselves they are allowed to act out in public, ranting about the post office or the line at the light, or beeping and beeping and beeping while I am waiting on the side of the Highway, waiting for the break in traffic, to access. Some people expect to be allowed, to be tolerated.
In truth, I will give you three times.
The first two times, I watch to uncover the cause.
By the third time, I am usually aware of the cause and I offer that one last time, because patience is required for people in trouble.
They wouldn't have me there if they weren't in trouble.
This last year has been so very hard on all of us.
2011 will go down in History as the year we all survived, somehow. I like to tell myself it was a year of doors closing.
2012 has already proven to be the year that opened new doors so I am full of hope for all my loved ones and clients who were strong enough to get to this year, with love and laughter intact.
The reality of this clients life has changed so much, though.
She has survived this mystery to our Medical Community and is still fighting to bring her body back from this physical invasion of her day to day.
I do not wish to share her journey here so much as to bring to your attention that these things cause ripples and those of us around her who fight to keep our patience, really do experience this with her.
Just before Christmas of 2011, she manifested the second battle with pain.
Just before Christmas of 2011, she chose to be as brave as anyone could be, and went to be with her family, anyway.
Just before Christmas of 2011, this brave woman found herself in more pain than child birth and it was all behind her right ear.
No pain medication would relieve her discomfort.
No doctor could explain her experience to her.
No family member could hug the fear out of her.
WebMD provides this explanation for a paralysis that we can not explain but that resonates with the reflections that I have provided for you, here.
I quote:
"What is Bell's palsy?
Bell's palsy is a paralysis or weakness of the muscles on one side of your face. Damage to the facial nerve that controls muscles on one side of the face causes that side of your face to droop
. The nerve damage may also affect your sense of taste and how you make tears and saliva. This condition comes on suddenly, often overnight, and usually gets better on its own within a few weeks. Bell's palsy is not the result of a stroke or a transient ischemic attack (TIA). While stroke and TIA can cause facial paralysis, there is no link between Bell's palsy and either of these conditions. But sudden weakness that occurs on one side of your face should be checked by a doctor right away to rule out these more serious causes.
What causes Bell's palsy?
The cause of Bell's palsy is not clear. Most cases are thought to be caused by the herpes virus that causes cold sores.1In most cases of Bell's palsy, the nerve that controls muscles on one side of the face is damaged by inflammation.
Many health problems can cause weakness or paralysis of the face. If a specific reason cannot be found for the weakness, the condition is called Bell's palsy."
Thank you WebMD.
Did you catch that last part? "If a specific reason cannot be found for the weakness, the condition is called Bell's Palsy."
Very frightening, powerless outcome to a very painful experience.
Because I have spent time in this home, I have been watching something happening to this woman, for a very long time.
Because these people prefer to see me as nothing more than a cleaner, in their home, they do not respect my education and do not concern themselves with my opinions and observations.
It is true.
Some people are not comfortable recognizing my education and require that I never speak of what I understand.
Shame really, as they have a professional in their company and do not avail themselves of my gifts.
When this woman had a day of pain, many months ago, that resulted in the correction of her eyesight, I guessed that this was the beginning of something else.
She was grateful for the correction in her eyesight and the fact that the incredible pain this experience presented, had ended. She preferred to see it as a gift from heaven and I supported her comfort zone as best as I could.
I celebrated her beliefs and watched closely to find any other manifestations of what was happening to her. To find a cause, somehow.
Her medical staff tested and tested but nothing was coming from all the effort.
I continued to help her keep her joy.
After all, I am there to please her. That is what her husband told me when this job began.
He said, "Be here for four hours at a time and just make her happy."
She has Arthritis in her hips and has her painful days.
It is my pleasure to help her maintain the happiness her husband hopes for.
She has been an interesting client for a little over three years now.
Always giving, always chatty and warm; these most recent changes were easy to notice.
It began when she started shouting.
This is so unusual for a woman with so much kindness in her heart. It was almost as if she saw me as a daughter. The tone and rant were unacceptable but I was inclined to allow it so I could report to her husband and possibly catch symptoms that might lead to answers for the pain and subsequent improvement of sight.
Her medical team was only watching, too. This couple has a tendency to isolate themselves in the comfort, the level of income this man has generated in his career, allows them.
After testing revealed no answers, we all kept a ,"chin up", kind of attitude.
I just watched closer and closer.
I never guessed she would greet me with the story of her experience, when they returned from Christmas with family.
I never guessed I would find this woman following me around her house to continue to rant at me as I attempted to be useful to her. Taunting me to join the level of argument she felt, unsatisfied when I remained calm, speaking in quiet tones.
To date my observations find her paranoid, aggressive, frightened, uninterested in her normal daily tasks.
Depression maybe, but a neurological challenge can also manifest with these changes.
Her husband excuses these outbursts with how much she has been through.
I attempt to share my concern without creating fear.
He does not believe that I am educated enough to be of any use in this matter.
My job is to be of service to her but I am still unsure if I will be welcome each time I arrive. I only work for this couple every two weeks so it is difficult to know how it goes in my absence. It is possible she targets me to unload on because she has come to understand that I am up to that task, so far.
My policy of three strikes will tell her how this will go, should she feel the need to blow up on me, when I return this week.
What I understand and what this couple ask of me are two different things.
When I relate this to friends who have been nurses, they remind me that I should stand up for the education I possess. Require respect from those who hire me for the gifts I possess and share.
My answer is that I don't care what I am called, just so people who need me, will call me.
I know what I am and what I understand about this area of life.
I do not need accolades, I wish to be of service in this life and having me in your home insures an extra help to keep you alive and hopefully thriving until the EMT's arrive to bring you to the next level of care you may require.
As far as people who do not respect what I offer, I am still me and they still need me.
Doesn't have to matter if they understand who they are sharing company with. What matters is that I bring my A-game every time I am in a home. I never know if this time will be the time they find out how much I can really help.
Life is like that.
Be as prepared as you can be, but in the end, hope for intelligence around you when you fall, rely on the kindness of these people and do the best that you can.
I'm not really sure why I shared all this with you today.
I guess I was compelled to remind you that you never really know what you are looking at,
when you are in the company of others.
I never really know what I am looking at,
when I share company with others.
I just know we all have bodies and bodies require care.
I know we all understand the reality of this life, on some level,
and we all deserve the respect due us for still being here.
I believe I deserve respect and I am sure I get it more often than I am aware of.
I am of value.
My clients are of value.
You are of value.
The trick is never to judge.
Always,
celebrate the life and look past the complications.....
and love.
Always love.
Always.
Hello again. Time for an update to this post.
Yesterday was our scheduled day to work together.
I must report that the third strike did present itself, though my client is clearly doing better with her desire to keep me in my "place".
Quieter and more interested in our usual habits, again.
Very nice to see.
I did not actually tell you what happens at the point of the third strike. My apologies if it seemed I might cut and run from a client who is struggling. No, I do not run and I have no hope to leave this situation, during such a troubling time. What I do ask is that someone in the home who is not struggling, have a conversation about the situation, with me.
I did tell you that do not need to be recognized for my education and knowledge of the field I work in.
I know, I told you that I have people who require that I do not speak of what I actually have training in, but remain nothing more than a "Maid" when I am in their home.
This home has required this, "Maid approach", of me for most of our time together, though the wife has asked for my occasional understandings, in the past. Just chat mind you, but she does seem to be aware of my abilities and this is good. She can, hopefully, trust me and find me useful if the time arrives when she needs what I am good at. Like now.....
Still, yesterday was not as loud as the past, only, almost tense and looking like it could become loud if I let it. When the time was available for a private conversation with her husband, I asked for the courtesy of getting us "On the same page".
He allowed for my interruption of his computer time but almost whispered to me that she would be very upset if she knew we were talking about her, without her presence.
He was open but maintained, for the most part, a sense that I was simply offended and he kept saying that I could quit when ever I wanted to. Almost as if he had seen these days before.
I continued to share that this current emotional conflict his wife is troubled by, was actually her instruction to me. My concern is that she has completely forgotten the entire conversation, as well as her instruction. This is too much and too long of a memory to lose. Conversations had happened on different occasions.
This awareness seems to be lost to her.
The second episode, with the manifestation of pain and what has been diagnosed as Bell's Palsy, was after the conversations and instructions. Those same instructions she now finds worthy of her rant. It has been my guess that when she suffered the worst of the symptoms, it is possible something more, neurologically, was happening.
The loss of memory is an important issue showing itself to us, at this time.
I did not do this without respect for the fact that this man has been living with his loved one but has not put all these things together, in his mind. Catching up to this understanding was a painful reality to face and it is my job to have this third strike conversation carefully and respectfully, knowing I may not be understood simply because it is too hard to face. He was beginning to see this conversation for what it was but continued to absorb my words as something he had seen in his wife before. Perhaps she is easy to upset when she feels her privacy has been compromised, but her privacy is not what is at risk here and I would not be doing my job if I did not bring her husband to this understanding. Familiar reactions to conflict can seem like normal life but the underlying reality that begs for our attention is the loss of memory, not the outburst.
After I shared what I understood and experienced with his wife, I asked him if he understood why I can allow a client to act out like his wife had. I told him that I understood the powerlessness she has been feeling. I shared that I was aware of how it would help her feel "personal power", if she could have power over me, the strong one in the room. I told him that in the past, I have been able to allow struggling clients to "shout", at me, because it gives the illusion of power over something, when personal power over "self", is seemingly at risk.
In truth, it is quite upsetting but worthy of patience, most of the time.
Ultimately, I told him that I allowed his wife to act out because I understood she was in a powerless, frightened stage of this experience and I was able to stay because my strength could withstand her outbursts. That is not to say I would allow anything physical but I hoped to help him understand, this is not about my feelings but my job.
His response was simply, "Interesting approach."
I answered that this is what it is like when you have a Professional in your home. I touched his arm and quietly said, "Twelve years in. Job security."
When he left us alone for errands, he quietly smiled to me on his way by and whispered with raised eyebrows, "Have fun".
We did and I was pleased to find her returning to her comfortable self in my presence.
My answer with every micro managed moment?
"What ever you say."
My response when asked to sit with a cup of coffee for chat?
"Yes, thank you."
My answer when our conversation came upon a friend in common, juggling a complicated situation?
"I am sorry but that would seem too much like gossip and you know I don't do that. Please go to her and find out what she is ready to share about that".
I thanked her for not pressing me further, for information about our mutual friend.
I could see her processing what that could mean about her concern for my chat with anyone about her life. I could feel her calm as she realized she did not need to be concerned about my loyalty to her privacy. I had found a place in conversation to speak about her concerns without requiring her to actually face that fear.
I was feeling blessed at the fact that yesterday I was able to address very important issues with both of these people and it happened without requiring emotional conflict between us.
It was a good day.
We care-givers witness the lives of our clients on such a deep level. If we are good at what we commit to, we are in these homes as a friend.
We are there during good times and bad.
If your commitment is to remain useful, you must allow for the bumps while you continue to observe and report what you experience.
In twelve years, there is only one woman who found me unwilling to come back.
She gave herself permission to grab my throat after an unusual argument she had had on the phone, with her daughter. Perhaps I could have stayed in her employ but it would have meant that I was okay with her hands at my throat. I was not. She was so very sorry for her actions and sent me cash in an apology but physical harm has always been my personal boundary. We are still friendly to each other when we come across each other in this small town. I did not burn that bridge, only declared my boundary.
We all really do have moments of that kind of energy, we just also have a responsibility to others. No physical outburst is productive.
Thank you for your interest in my reflections, here.
Be well and remember to be useful when you can be, kind when it is a day of conflict for your clients....
Always.
Friday, January 6, 2012
Oh This Life
What if you wake up
troubled and frustrated,
with an aching in your heart
or in your hands?
What if you fear your time slips by you,
quiet thoughts that may have you wondering.
What's left to say,
if no one understands?
I say,
remember to enjoy what you do,
and just stay busy.
Really,
remain responsible with everything
you do,
and say.
I say,
this life is still for the living.
Just put on those big girl panties,
and make your way.
You can still find your joy with every foot fall.
Step by step, just get on with your day.
Nancy McEldowney
January 6, 2012
troubled and frustrated,
with an aching in your heart
or in your hands?
What if you fear your time slips by you,
quiet thoughts that may have you wondering.
What's left to say,
if no one understands?
I say,
remember to enjoy what you do,
and just stay busy.
Really,
remain responsible with everything
you do,
and say.
I say,
this life is still for the living.
Just put on those big girl panties,
and make your way.
You can still find your joy with every foot fall.
Step by step, just get on with your day.
Nancy McEldowney
January 6, 2012
Choosing Is Independence
This new day has me grinning already.
I am here with you but in truth, I am in my cottage, counting my blessings and filling my moments with as much forward motion as I can muster.
You see, in this town, this sleepy town, our early morning was outstanding.
I was slow to come indoors, not wanting to miss the sunrise in all it's rosy, desert dawn, tones.
Beautiful......
But I wish to share with you the insights shared with me, just yesterday.
The conversation was about personal power and/or the lack of it.
Specifically, we were chatting about personal independence and how we can take the independence of driving ourselves, for granted.
Begging me not to tell her care-giver and daughter, my elder had confided in me, what she was finally able to admit to herself.
Driving was becoming a challenge.
Big stuff to admit in our sometimes very small worlds.
I had made her promise me that she would tell this secret, as soon as possible.
Yesterday, she told me she had finally shared her secret, with her daughter.
I was grateful.
Teamwork requires that honesty, you know.
Secrets don't really serve us.
Her honesty told me that she was not being forgetful or even confused.
She wasn't experiencing confusion as she admitted such personal information to me.
She told me that in the past, she had found herself in areas of her town, feeling a little lost. Then she would find a familiar landmark to navigate from and feel strong again. My heart strings tugged as I heard the familiar fears elders conjure when they bear the inner conflict of losing trust in themselves.
I find it affects men so much more than women but in truth, losing a personal freedom like driving ourselves wherever and whenever we wish, is a direct personal hit to our self respect. That quiet fear of others forcing us to retire our Drivers License, before we are willing to.
It was that same moment for her sweet self, that I have found in others, and also in myself, when I require a driver because of physical challenges. No one wants to wait.
No one wants to greet that stage of life where we are forced to rely on the kindness of others. We want to feel powerful and not needy. We value ourselves based so often on how self reliant we think we are.
She was being an adult about it but sensing her loss of personal power, left her feeling like a child, to others.
She didn't seem to realize that she was being mature and responsible for her own actions.
She was feeling a loss of freedom.
She was admitting to me that she was feeling less useful, less capable, less valuable to our society.
In the same breath she was knowing that it was no longer acceptable to take the chance of creating an unsafe place for others to drive in. She knew that she was not driving safe and wished to be responsible.
Well done!
If you are an elder and you are reading this, you may be nodding your head.
You may be remembering those times when you realized your memory was confusing you.
Short term memory loss, unable to hold on to someones name right after they told you who they were.....
You may have noticed the confusion setting in just because you felt it was happening. Then, falling into that rain barrel, as the dark waters rose to control your emotions.
Complicating your own ability to remember by letting your emotion rise to the fear of losing your trust in yourself.
Because you are older, it can seem like a sign of losing your rights to thrive in this world.
It is incorrect thinking to allow yourself to use this freedom as a measure of your abilities.
Your place in this world.
I am here today to "remind" you of a few things.
Please.
Help yourself or those elders in your care, by retaining my thoughts here.
If you are being forgetful, bookmark this post and let it remind you again, and again.
You are worth the effort, I promise.
We are all worth the effort.
In my years as a care-giver, I have shared company with people who can no longer drive, but still do.
Risky choices.
Sometimes it is our reaction time.
Sometimes, as in the case of this very responsible elder, it is simply how her peripheral vision affects her ability to concentrate.
She is aware of other drivers who are struggling just to get through the lives they fight for.
She understands that we all fight for something.....
The habit I find in our elders is to question their own abilities before they consider the abilities of others.
Perhaps we simply trust ourselves only as far as our ability to react quickly or appropriately.
Both insights will serve us to a point, but when we continually question ourselves, it is a kind of personal training to mistrust ourselves.
It does not serve us as much as we may think it does.
It is responsible to remain aware of our limitations but if we create fear fueled by emotion, we are creating more limitations.
The cycle can begin while we are busy doing something else.
Our job is to know that it is a normal fact of life.
In our younger years, we laugh and say, "Oops, I have forgotten already", when we forget a new name or even just the correct word to communicate our thoughts.
As we age, we realize our forgetfulness is showing and we do not want to seem old so we make excuses to ourselves and stutter and stammer while our emotion rises at the thought that we are losing our faculties. At the realization that others may be judging us, as if they are the boss of us.......^_^
Simply letting the fear of aging set in will often push the memory further from our grasp.
Fear dissolves memory into fret.
I say, practice the patience you deserve and allow yourself to be loved, to be appreciated, as your life continues to require your presence.
A young parent with an ailing child, would reflect the inner pressure felt while waiting to see if the sweet darling would heal. It would be acceptable to be forgetful because concern would be an overload and others would be compelled to be patient.
Financial stress is another overload but overload in any form requires our constant attention.
In our elder years, it can take everything we have to work with, just to keep track of the medical teams we hire or the paperwork needed to sort out payments for care, etc.
As we age, we can love ourselves enough to delegate but many of us see our aging process as something that tells our neediness.
We fall prey to fear and recluse our hearts.
We fear uselessness.
Let me help you remember your power.
Let me help you retain your focus even when your tired self does not wish to.
Choices are our power.
Making choices to protect ourselves, is our independence.
Making choices indicates our ownership of our independence.
This elder has the ability to be responsible for her life, just like she always has been.
Perhaps, as we age, we move slower, perhaps we lose the strength we had when we were more active or our bodies were younger. This does not indicate that we are any less than anyone else.
It only means that what we deal with on a daily basis now, shows for all the world to see.
It does not mean we are less than anyone else.
The younger people around us are actually watching us for clues.
We are in our truest cycle of life.
Being responsible to ourselves and for ourselves is being vital and capable and yes, independent in a good way.
As an elder, please, see your process as a gift that shows on the outside. You are good for us.
Your lives are gifts we younger souls need to be exposed to.
When you are working with your medical teams and your families to retain your freedoms, we are watching to learn how to retain our own.
We are grateful for your time here and for what you have provided for us to work with while we rush around, making the best of what we have created for ourselves to work with.
You are us, and we are you.
It just doesn't seem like it when you are watching us move faster, or while we are pushing you to be more able than you are feeling that day.
I say thank you to my elder for her courage to face this next phase in her life.
She has choices.
Even when she is slow to make those choices, choosing to be slow is still a choice.
No matter how powerless we may tell ourselves that we are, we still have the choice to feel that way.
She chose to allow for a driver in her life.
She chose to maintain her safety and the safety of others who drive.
Again, I say, well done!
May seem like a door is closing but see how this elder already opened a window.
In her personal independence, she still chose quality of life.
I commend her.
I hope for her joy.
I hope for your ability to feel useful in all phases of your decision making.
You are more useful than you know.
Just by being here, we can continue to make this world a better place.
Be well.
Always.
I am here with you but in truth, I am in my cottage, counting my blessings and filling my moments with as much forward motion as I can muster.
You see, in this town, this sleepy town, our early morning was outstanding.
I was slow to come indoors, not wanting to miss the sunrise in all it's rosy, desert dawn, tones.
Beautiful......
But I wish to share with you the insights shared with me, just yesterday.
The conversation was about personal power and/or the lack of it.
Specifically, we were chatting about personal independence and how we can take the independence of driving ourselves, for granted.
Begging me not to tell her care-giver and daughter, my elder had confided in me, what she was finally able to admit to herself.
Driving was becoming a challenge.
Big stuff to admit in our sometimes very small worlds.
I had made her promise me that she would tell this secret, as soon as possible.
Yesterday, she told me she had finally shared her secret, with her daughter.
I was grateful.
Teamwork requires that honesty, you know.
Secrets don't really serve us.
Her honesty told me that she was not being forgetful or even confused.
She wasn't experiencing confusion as she admitted such personal information to me.
She told me that in the past, she had found herself in areas of her town, feeling a little lost. Then she would find a familiar landmark to navigate from and feel strong again. My heart strings tugged as I heard the familiar fears elders conjure when they bear the inner conflict of losing trust in themselves.
I find it affects men so much more than women but in truth, losing a personal freedom like driving ourselves wherever and whenever we wish, is a direct personal hit to our self respect. That quiet fear of others forcing us to retire our Drivers License, before we are willing to.
It was that same moment for her sweet self, that I have found in others, and also in myself, when I require a driver because of physical challenges. No one wants to wait.
No one wants to greet that stage of life where we are forced to rely on the kindness of others. We want to feel powerful and not needy. We value ourselves based so often on how self reliant we think we are.
She was being an adult about it but sensing her loss of personal power, left her feeling like a child, to others.
She didn't seem to realize that she was being mature and responsible for her own actions.
She was feeling a loss of freedom.
She was admitting to me that she was feeling less useful, less capable, less valuable to our society.
In the same breath she was knowing that it was no longer acceptable to take the chance of creating an unsafe place for others to drive in. She knew that she was not driving safe and wished to be responsible.
Well done!
If you are an elder and you are reading this, you may be nodding your head.
You may be remembering those times when you realized your memory was confusing you.
Short term memory loss, unable to hold on to someones name right after they told you who they were.....
You may have noticed the confusion setting in just because you felt it was happening. Then, falling into that rain barrel, as the dark waters rose to control your emotions.
Complicating your own ability to remember by letting your emotion rise to the fear of losing your trust in yourself.
Because you are older, it can seem like a sign of losing your rights to thrive in this world.
It is incorrect thinking to allow yourself to use this freedom as a measure of your abilities.
Your place in this world.
I am here today to "remind" you of a few things.
Please.
Help yourself or those elders in your care, by retaining my thoughts here.
If you are being forgetful, bookmark this post and let it remind you again, and again.
You are worth the effort, I promise.
We are all worth the effort.
In my years as a care-giver, I have shared company with people who can no longer drive, but still do.
Risky choices.
Sometimes it is our reaction time.
Sometimes, as in the case of this very responsible elder, it is simply how her peripheral vision affects her ability to concentrate.
She is aware of other drivers who are struggling just to get through the lives they fight for.
She understands that we all fight for something.....
The habit I find in our elders is to question their own abilities before they consider the abilities of others.
Perhaps we simply trust ourselves only as far as our ability to react quickly or appropriately.
Both insights will serve us to a point, but when we continually question ourselves, it is a kind of personal training to mistrust ourselves.
It does not serve us as much as we may think it does.
It is responsible to remain aware of our limitations but if we create fear fueled by emotion, we are creating more limitations.
The cycle can begin while we are busy doing something else.
Our job is to know that it is a normal fact of life.
In our younger years, we laugh and say, "Oops, I have forgotten already", when we forget a new name or even just the correct word to communicate our thoughts.
As we age, we realize our forgetfulness is showing and we do not want to seem old so we make excuses to ourselves and stutter and stammer while our emotion rises at the thought that we are losing our faculties. At the realization that others may be judging us, as if they are the boss of us.......^_^
Simply letting the fear of aging set in will often push the memory further from our grasp.
Fear dissolves memory into fret.
I say, practice the patience you deserve and allow yourself to be loved, to be appreciated, as your life continues to require your presence.
A young parent with an ailing child, would reflect the inner pressure felt while waiting to see if the sweet darling would heal. It would be acceptable to be forgetful because concern would be an overload and others would be compelled to be patient.
Financial stress is another overload but overload in any form requires our constant attention.
In our elder years, it can take everything we have to work with, just to keep track of the medical teams we hire or the paperwork needed to sort out payments for care, etc.
As we age, we can love ourselves enough to delegate but many of us see our aging process as something that tells our neediness.
We fall prey to fear and recluse our hearts.
We fear uselessness.
Let me help you remember your power.
Let me help you retain your focus even when your tired self does not wish to.
Choices are our power.
Making choices to protect ourselves, is our independence.
Making choices indicates our ownership of our independence.
This elder has the ability to be responsible for her life, just like she always has been.
Perhaps, as we age, we move slower, perhaps we lose the strength we had when we were more active or our bodies were younger. This does not indicate that we are any less than anyone else.
It only means that what we deal with on a daily basis now, shows for all the world to see.
It does not mean we are less than anyone else.
The younger people around us are actually watching us for clues.
We are in our truest cycle of life.
Being responsible to ourselves and for ourselves is being vital and capable and yes, independent in a good way.
As an elder, please, see your process as a gift that shows on the outside. You are good for us.
Your lives are gifts we younger souls need to be exposed to.
When you are working with your medical teams and your families to retain your freedoms, we are watching to learn how to retain our own.
We are grateful for your time here and for what you have provided for us to work with while we rush around, making the best of what we have created for ourselves to work with.
You are us, and we are you.
It just doesn't seem like it when you are watching us move faster, or while we are pushing you to be more able than you are feeling that day.
I say thank you to my elder for her courage to face this next phase in her life.
She has choices.
Even when she is slow to make those choices, choosing to be slow is still a choice.
No matter how powerless we may tell ourselves that we are, we still have the choice to feel that way.
She chose to allow for a driver in her life.
She chose to maintain her safety and the safety of others who drive.
Again, I say, well done!
May seem like a door is closing but see how this elder already opened a window.
In her personal independence, she still chose quality of life.
I commend her.
I hope for her joy.
I hope for your ability to feel useful in all phases of your decision making.
You are more useful than you know.
Just by being here, we can continue to make this world a better place.
Be well.
Always.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Susan Miller Said This
Susan Miller is an Astrologer.
She has provided a free site, AstrologyZone.com, for many years now.
This is a phrase I copied one day.
It still resonates no matter what the day.
"In so many ways, astrological aspects build on each other over a lifetime.
We are not born new into each month, but rather, we bring with us all sorts of ongoing projects,
dreams, goals, relationships, and maybe a setback, into that new month, that we may still be thinking about.
The point is, we bring life with us into every month and the story of our lives keeps being woven into a magnificent tapestry."
Well put, Susan.
Always,
Nancy McEldowney
She has provided a free site, AstrologyZone.com, for many years now.
This is a phrase I copied one day.
It still resonates no matter what the day.
"In so many ways, astrological aspects build on each other over a lifetime.
We are not born new into each month, but rather, we bring with us all sorts of ongoing projects,
dreams, goals, relationships, and maybe a setback, into that new month, that we may still be thinking about.
The point is, we bring life with us into every month and the story of our lives keeps being woven into a magnificent tapestry."
Well put, Susan.
Always,
Nancy McEldowney
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