Be the change you want to see.

Ok my back/hip/si joint was painful enough that I finally booked with my chiropractor, Larry, last Monday, a week ago today.
It took a longer than usual session because it's been about two years and a stressful election and an attempted coup and a deadly global pandemic since I saw him last...

But the ribs have expanded. Breathing is easier, I think. I've been doing zipper cracks of my lower spine, and the general body Bain has been much better.

I actually posted to FB something about the crazy endorphins I was high on, immediately post session. (Awesome.

But then this weekend my LEFT hip and si joint were excruciating the way the right had been, before the adjustment. And I just figured, maybe this was related to how my left side was a couple inches higher when I sit with that leg up in figure 4.

More compensating. But it was bad. Like any kind of rotation of that hip, especially load bearing: turn it pivot on that leg in the kitchen? OUCH!

And huh now I remember I had a hip-flexor or lower belly cramp and release while Jeff and I were in Mendocino last week... And generally moments like that have led to range of motion increase, and decreased pain...

But last night it was bad enough that I was fidgeting lots, trying to see if I could find the right stretch to release the pain. And then I dig out the flexiril and took one with the bedtime meds. That does tend to work well for me.

Sweet sleep that knits the ravelled sleeve of care, or something... 😉

Then this morning as I started to wake up and do the morning stretches, I felt something small go *poink* deep in my hip socket as something shifted. A tendon, maybe, I'm never exactly sure.

But when my muscles are strong and soft and limber, good things happen.

It's taken several major steps to get where I am after the injuries to my knee. Double sprai, one year apart (1997&1998). Then the actual ACL tear in 2007, and then finally surgery in November of 2011.

The body does amazing things to hold us together and let us function, when we're injured. That functionality often comes with a hefty cost of pain.

The first real relief came post knee surgery. My toes uncurled. My back and hip heaved a sigh of relief. I cried. I cried kind of a lot.

Other moments of pain and release have come at other logical times. Well. Logical in retrospect. One massive spasm and release came halfway through a weekend dance workshop in San Rafael, something like five years ago. I was sitting on the toilet 🚽 during the break and my hip flexor SEIZED. Holy Mary Mother of God, that hurt. The other dancers were asking was I okay and I was just cussing and saying that it was a muscle spasms. Which it was. I went back to the dance floor once it resolved itself, tenderly testing for pain and range of motion, and DAMN if I couldn't do several things more easily and with almost zero pain than I had, only an hour before the cramp....

And I have had multiple other breakthroughs of a similar type. Late last week, on our Mendocino trip, I'm realizing that I had almost the exact spasm, sitting in the car, as the San Rafael dance workshop spasm, after two days of gentle hiking 🥾...

I have a theory that my body holds onto tension until I prove that I can be trusted to work the support muscles appropriately, and enough to support the joint... And then the muscle agrees to let go of its death grip clench. Which got us by well enough for years, you know.

But the chiropractor, the hot 🛁 bathtub, the gentle movement, have worked to convince my LEFT hip that it could finally let go after... After many years.

Blessed be the body, and the bodymind as well. I'm grateful for my healers, my team.

And I'm grateful for my trust of myself, my hard won trust of my own body.

Thank goodness for the Age of Information, where I can look up anatomy details without going to the library and paging through huge tomes. If I want to learn about the psoas or the piriformis, I can just *click* *search* 🔍 *sort* *find* *read*.

Okay. Less sitting today, more gentle movement.

Q: What prevents me from getting started?
Q: What are the obstacles and impediments?
Q: What are my goals?

I'm keeping myself accountable for this writing by way of a facebook post where I asked friends to say: write the thing! and give me a number between 1 and 9, labeling each writing prompt with a number in my ADHD journal.

Actually the goals part is the most difficult, so it's appropriate to use it for last.
shall I write about writing? or about this therapeutic process to address the impact of adhd in my life, now that I know something about that being a THING for me?

I think I'd prefer to write about the therapy process and unpack some ideas or thoughts or just basically ... well, hopefully do better than just word-vomit but I shan't make any promises tonight. I have 10 prompts I've culled from the group on monday and therapy with Lara yesterday.

Q1) What prevents me from getting started?
--- Interest. Now that nobody's making me do shit, now I'm not accountable to a boss, a schedule, a clientele (well not precisely) I mainly spend my days doing what I want with a few commitments per week, mostly self inflicted. There's stuff that I know I COULD be doing, even SHOULD be doing,
...and I don't. I don't do them.

I used to judge myself on that, but I don't. I used to tear myself up about that, but I don't. Thank god, I used to literally be my own worst enemy that way.

---Accountability. For reasons that I hope to be able to dig into later, accountability is huge in my motivational force. If I promise to someone I will do something, I will do it solely BECAUSE I SAID I WOULD and that seems to be sufficient. If someone asks me to do something, and it's pretty direct, like Jeff asks will I pull out that part of the garden full of aphids, and I say I will, that seems to be sufficient.

However. If I don't have some kind of outside accountability, I don't do things on any kind of coherent timeline. Which is maybe not always important, but like, it feels like it would be good to shower three times a week, but I can't always hit that. And sometimes that's the depression, but also that I don't get enough human f2f feedback to notice and then to feel embarrassed when I stink.

I've actually planned to chain the showering habit to the working out habit... but haven't been successful. I don't at the moment know how to force that.

Maybe I could find a depression/neurodivergent partner, who also has a not-daily habit they want to build, and we could encourage each other.

It seems that I am better about keeping other people on track than I am at keeping myself on track.
also I am better about staying on track if I have someone else helping me stay accountable.

The last writing prompt out of ten, is, why is it more effective to have Lara or anyone else, tell me what to do, than it is for ME to tell me what to do, in this accomplishing tasks.

1) The oldest part of my brain says because what I want doesn't matter. Because you're always supposed to put other people first, because you can't figure stuff out on your own. (interesting that I chose to use second-person there...hmmm) There's a LOT of old messages there, traceries of a former self. What my friend Chelsea recently called... something like spent seed pods, or carapaces, or used envelopes.

what I want DOES MATTER. I don't ALWAYS have to put other people first, I am ALLOWED to be first on my own priority list godsdammit! and I definitely CAN FIGURE STUFF OUT ON MY OWN but I do have old learned helplessness and my constant fight against distraction to get the stuff figured out, and then the steps sorted out, and then get the shit DONE.

2) when I was teaching about study skills (bear with me a moment, it will become relevant) I had the kids take a test which would help them figure out what their learning style was like. Howard Gardner had a theory of Multiple Intelligences, for which there are Varied tests, now available on the internet. (gosh that would have been much more easy and fun to do on the internet! but it was nearly fifteen years ago that I started that unit, & in an inner city school with limited computer resources.)

I suspect that I have a deep need for interpersonal learning. I'm only sometimes good at teaching myself new skills; I hunger for someone to see me and teach me. I love dance class and working with my trainer for that... but having a teacher teach me and walk me through the material, help me build skills? so much more satisfying than YouTubing my way through something new. (I bet Jeff has a strong intrapersonal learning drive. It would make so much sense.)

What are my goals?

• I want to feel productive, truly productive, every day.
  
• I want to help other people every day. (I can be the person helped, it's allowed. *smile*)
  
• I want to feel like my mind and my time are under my guidance and control.
  

That last item is going to require a new skills base, or a return to old skills (Flylady or Franklin-Covey 7 Habits territory), probably some new skills base. My needs are different now than when I first learned those, ages and ages ago. My mind is different.

Okay. that's enough for the first two prompts.

Thanks for listening, hopefully this isn't too much of a plate of scrambled spaghetti noodles for anyone but me to find benefit in.

I never used to think of myself as an artist, which is funny and sad on a number of levels. I had this image of myself as a fuckup, someone who does stuff half-assed, has trouble with completing projects, and I wouldn't let myself justify costuming or calligraphy or writing as "artistic". I'm almost entirely self-taught in those realms, which was part of the problem.

Finally I decided I could call myself an artist once I'd become a part of the Waldorf teaching tradition. My program follows one of Steiner's precepts, that the Teacher as Artist is a goal to strive toward. And it's made clear that the artistic technique is not just meant for the Art of Teaching, though it's a part. I struggled hard to make my work "artistic" as my teachers requested, characterizing rather than defining, showing the gesture or direction of an idea rather than delineating it.

I also struggled with comparing myself to my classmates. I have always been an enthusiastic maker of images, but I had never had much instruction with regard to technique, while half my classmates produced what seemed like masterworks in comparison to my own clumsy efforts.

The first teacher training art class I felt at home at, wasn't even an *art* class.
The second half of the High School Mathematics curriculum taught to the Waldorf Teachers-in-training is Geometry, including the artistic component of Geometric Drawings.
There is a real peace in learning how to be precise. We were explicitly taught the steps and stages for any geometric construction. Bless Patrick for a meticulous teacher, breaking down the techniques with ease and clarity, having us practice until we understood.


(image of a 24-point geometric web)

Once I began the process of drawing a geometric figure, I found myself in this incredibly clear-headed space. Like a life-long weight of self-judgment had lifted. Liberating!
I can't even really explain how it felt, what it did to my head, to my sense of self, to be able to grok clearly and completely how to construct this precise and beautiful thing.


(image titled "Flowery fun with geometry" using many interlocking circles and colors and shading to create a flower shape.)

Being able to create these complex and meticulous drawings sent me into a very Zen space. My head quieted, my focus narrowed, and all there was in the world was me, my hands, the paper, tools, and pencil. Completely "in the Zone", completely in flow-state, I very rarely wanted to stop or even pause in the process. It seemed *easy*, and was definitely FUN.

I had a paradigm shift. No longer could I tell myself "it's too hard, I can't do that, too complicated, too detailed, I'm not ____..." where ___ could be anything from "that kind of artist" or "precise" or "clever like that" or "skilled like that" or even the base canard, "good enough". Those evil little brainweasel voices couldn't be heard over the all-consuming focus on the process of construction, the flow that somehow seemed so easy in such an unexpected place after so long striving after it.


(image titled "simple geometric flower with notes", seven interlocking circles filled in with blue, pink and green.)

Why am I not doing geometric drawing all the time? It's lovely, it's satisfying, and there are thousands of possible projects to practice.
Why NOT do a thing I enjoy, and that brings me peace? Why NOT enjoy exploring my skills, expanding my image of myself to include calm precision and creation of beauty?

Every day we grow and change. We all transform ourselves into new people, a little at a time. Sometimes the transformation is consciously done, sometimes simple passage of time creates the transformation without us thinking much about what we're growing into, what we're becoming.

If the time will pass regardless, why NOT be intentional about what you choose to do with your transformation?

I wanna get GOOD at the art. And I know it doesn't just happen, I know I have to work at it. I have to LET myself get good at it. I have to be willing to fail and to suck and to throw stuff away sometimes. I have to go GET what I need to get better, I have to take lessons, write scripts for comics, watch YouTube instructional videos, practice little chibi drawings, start doodling on my tablet computer, and with the watercolor paints, and just allow myself to practice and experiment.

And I have to remember that nothing worth having is birthed all of a sudden.


(image titled "Complex Geometrical Flower stage 1", initial shading and coloring)

Art in particular is part of a slow and steady process, a conversation between me and the paper, or the clay, or the paint or fabric or the computer screen.


(image titled "Complex Geometrical Flower stage 2", intermediate stage of shading and coloring)

Art for art's sake is fine, I think it's a worthy goal just to bring more beauty into the world, to provoke conversation or thought or change. Art has the ability to wake people up to something they may be unaware of in the world.


(image titled "Complex Geometrical Flower stage 3", completed shading and coloring)

Art can serve an even higher purpose though. Art can bring a chance for transformation and healing, rest and respite, community and peace.
All of these are things that the artistic process has taught me, has brought to me.

This, this making things, making art, changing one thing into another thing by channeling ideas and images THROUGH ME, this is one way I can contribute to the world.
And to make this contribution, means that I can give myself permission to learn these skills properly, to practice the crafts that I love: writing, art, communication, teaching, healing. I can give myself permission to practice them until I am properly good at those skills and can then use them out in the world to the end result of community and healing.

There's so much pain in the world and not nearly enough beauty. Too much loneliness and not nearly enough love, compassion, and beauty.

I can do this. I can remember, and use as fuel for the work, the fact that the things I HAVEN'T done are the things I have most regretted.

Face the Fear and Do It Anyway.

Is your body YOU?
Is it all of you, part of you?
Does your body carry "you" around?
Is your body different from "you"?

I had a knee injury for fifteen years. As of November, that's 1/3 of my life. I had ACL replacement surgery 2.5 years ago.
And I've now been doing prehab, rehab, and working with a trainer for three years.

When do I get used to THIS body? This body is tons stronger and more flexible. This body can Do Stuff I wasn't able to do before. In this body my feet stay parallel instead of duck-footing to try and keep the knee stable. This body can balance on one leg to put a sock on, and hold a high plank position for almost a full minute, and roll out of bed without effort or pain. So many changes.

I keep getting shocked by this body... In good ways, true, and I know intellectually that I've worked hard to get here. But my gut, my feelings, keep expecting ... Like that this is too good to be true? Like somehow, without warning, I will automagically return to pain, and weakness, and brokenness.

Why can't I believe that my body has become strong? Why is it so hard to use that word to describe myself?

Posted via m.livejournal.com.

Today's massage was pretty darn good. This was the first time in recent memory that I showed up for a massage with nothing actually hurting or needing the therapeutic work. So on the therapist's suggestion, I opted for a relaxation massage. That was nice, and he (he and I are new at working together) seemed much more comfortable in this mode than the sports-therapy massage I requested two weeks ago. So that went well.

I'd had Wrenb drop me off for my appointment, we'd been doing errands together, so I opted to walk home via the bike trail. Less than two miles, I figured...
(How tough could it be, right?)

Oh dear.

Upside: no muscles are sore, my back is fine and my endurance for such things is hugely increased over the last time I took a long walk like this.

Downside? My shoes/boots weren't entirely the optimal choice for a long walk down the asphalt bike path. No heel blisters, thank Hermes, but I have blisters. Under my calluses. On the balls of both feet.

And the first of the early morning workouts with Tal and Tshuma. Like ready to work at 8 am early, when I usually roll out of bed between 8 and 8:30 kind of thing.

Oh well. I'll make it march somehow, and Tal probably has ane encyclopedia of things I could work on without straining foot blisters.

I have faith. Tomorrow will be good, and I will work hard, because I want to be tougher and stronger.

That's that.

Now to check in on Spouse and Tshuma, and rustle myself some more food.

Posted via m.livejournal.com.

there is a distinct lack of full length mirrors in my house. that said, I got a unique opportunity for a paradigm shift today.

 

hit the gym, worked out with Tal, (poor thing needs a root canal) stretched, showered.

 

came out from the shower, got partly dressed, and started to comb my hair Cousin-It-style because I am retraining the part to be on the other side...

 

Brain says, peering through the screen of hair, "wonder who the cute broad in the tankini is?"

 

...
it was me. I caught myself in the full length mirror, in tank top and underwear.

 

=D
pretty much a Banner Day for my self esteem.

 

Tal also asked had I lost more weight, which I dunno, but I think I've lost *volume*, and gained significant muscle since she and I started working together. She pointed out various examples of my progress since we started working out together.

 

\o/

 

is a good day.

I thought I had a lump in my breast.
Yes, THAT kind of lump.
Turns out I was wrong
thank GODS I was wrong

 

I didn't let myself have time to react today, to release, to let go of the holding-on I've been doing ever since I first suspected, something like two months ago...

 

and just finished a HARD workout with Tal... I told her about my appointment and my worries from today, and that I wanted to "sweat out all the stress"... she said, with a grin, "we can DO that!"

 

and we did.
hells, halfway through, she even made me RUN, like seriously RUN THROUGH THE GYM and around the other people working out, in a loop around the two guys playing basketball, who looked honest to goodness surprised to see this two-and-a-quarter hundred-pound chick pelting after her zippy little 98 pound trainer...

 

but I kept up. *grin*
Tal *gets* without me saying it that I get all locked up in my head (most of my life) and deep in my bones when we work out... and she pulls out something crazy like this, and it pops me back out into reality.

 

so, okay, once I stretched out and cooled down, I did wind up in the locker room ambushed by sobs for about a second.

 

like omg I dodged a bullet there kind of thing

 

like what am I doing with my life

 

just this enormous almost panic attack... can you have a "relief attack?"

 

shuddering, head on the bench, hunkered down, my face in the shirt I'm about to put on...

 

I'm outside now, baking in the car because I needed to write this down.

 

the value of being IN the body cannot be measured, and yet I usually take it for granted.

 

being in the Body fixes some things that the Mind creates.

 

I want to remember that.

Made it to the gym again today. Woot! twice in one week!

I had a lovely LOVELY massage first. I will never know how it was we managed to spend most of 90 minutes just on my torso, and only the back side of my torso... except it was indeed rather painful in parts, and I had to do deep breathing, and he worked in exquisite detail on gluteal muscles and under my scapula and on those little and very painful muscles in my neck. I think I love him, it's a platonic and grateful love. =)

so after the massage I got some miso soup and some tea and a couple of hand-rolls (scallops and hamachi) for mid afternoon snack and electrolyte refresh, checked email, and then headed over to the gym. Where I only did about 22 minutes of cardio, only adductors/abductors machines (you'll note that I missed those during my last workout) and a wee bit of yogic stretches and a few hits at downward-facing dog, before spending my last little bit of endorphin-generation on rolling the muscles of my legs on the foam core rollers...

as I said on FB, "there are many ways of earning your endorphins. This one is mine."

edit: Note to self: You can now hold Down-Dog indefinitely, with flat hands and feet, at a more acute (sharper?) angle than ever before, and can adjust shoulder posture while still in the pose. Also: today during the massage you adjusted for comfort while lying face down and aligned your leg bones STRAIGHT, not splayed duckfooted. Your body is finally learning what balance and proper knees and hips really feel like and look like. this is SO FREAKING AWESOME.

I find that 80's love songs still speak to me and comfort me.
Local radio station (100.5 The Zone) has an "80's after 8" program, and as I drove home from mom's last night I heard several favorites, among them "Don't forget me when I'm gone" and the Pretenders, "Brass in Pocket", which is the best tune ever for putting me in a confident, sexy attitude.
So I was singing in the shower this morning, Paul McCartney and the song listed above in the title to this blog entry.
Sappy love songs
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So... It's a time in my life when I'm inclined to be looking to the past, in a thoughtful fashion. It's not nostalgia, it's milder than that. I'm looking at my past life, past friendships, past relationships.
Izzy looks back and thinks awhile. Humph.
( Read more... )

Inertia sucks. *grin*
Unless, of course, you are already in motion, in which case inertia rocks, rolls, swings, runs, boogies. Interesting. There's a metaphor there, which I just don't feel clever enough to nail down at the moment.

Oh, moment of discontinuity last night as I fell into slumber after a long and cheery chat with Jeff...
Heard the not-so-distant train whistle and rumble, here in Rio Linda, and for moments I was confused, thinking somehow I was back in Santa Clara, being woken by THOSE trains...

This morning I have a brunch scheduled with former coworkers in the Grant District - the annual "Librarians' Luncheon" for librarians past and present. They're a fun group, I miss them & am looking forward to seeing them again.

Thanks for listening to my morning ramble, and thanks to the folk who expressed sympathy for yesterday's lack of "intestinal fortitude" on my part. Almost back to normal, yay!

Next time I post, should be about the travails of getting registered as a substitute teacher...
Umm. Do I have enough clothes that are nice? I may have to go thrifting again. Anybody up for shopping?