Tag Archive for: cerebral palsy
World Cerebral Palsy Day, 2024
I find myself in a strange, yet lovely and new spot as I age. I am far more accepting of myself, the roles that I am called to, the ways these change like the tide and the ways they are beautifully and achingly the same. My role as “mom,” is ever-changing as my kids also age. With my oldest in college this year, my 17 year old son on the very brink of adulthood and my 13 year old daughter changing before my eyes, I would be remiss if I didn’t take an honest look at how I am changing as well…
They don’t need me the same ways they always have; they need me in different ways now. (By the way, THIS change is also wrought with both/and, the grief of changing family dynamics and the exhilarating moments of growth.)
Yes, I MUST acknowledge both/and as our family shifts a bit…otherwise, I forfeit the beauty and right-ness of God’s plans for all of our lives, rather than becoming bitter, fearful and sad at all the independence and therefore, change, that plays out in every moment of every day in our family.
There are other changes too…
I have been working for two full years with EMDR International (EMDRIA) to become a certified EMDR clinician, which will reach completion this week. Just as quickly, I will begin the process of becoming an approved consultant with this ground-breaking organization. As I look at the next chapter of this career I love dearly, I am focused on bringing continued perspective and growth to brave clients as well as assisting other therapists who also care deeply about complex trauma and the healing work of EMDR.
I am a part The Fred Rogers Educator’s Neighborhood for the next year as well. I am very honored to have been accepted by Fred Rogers Institute for this year long study. Along with a group of others who have been impacted by Mr. Rogers, we are together learning how to utilize Mr. Rogers’ wealth of knowledge, study and perspective in many areas of child, family and professional development. Though we have met only twice, I am so thankful to rub shoulders with others in the world who genuinely believe, like Mr. Rogers, that kindness really does change us all. And heavens, don’t we all need more kindness in the world?
As there always is in life, there are difficult adjustments too: this week, two significant deaths in our world. Though I specialize in grief and loss, it is still very personal when it happens to you or in your very personal corner of the world. Losses bring us to the opportunity (I say this so gently,) to look back, to grieve again or in new ways and to use losses to inform how we want to LIVE going forward.
There are new and enduring friendships, growth in so many areas as we have recently come home, again to the church that played such an important part of my life from age 14 – 24. God has stretched, challenged and blessed our family in profound ways in the process of leaving our former church, grief like I have never known in that process and the faithfulness of finding a new church community. It is both the biggest blessing to be cared for, to be vulnerable and to love and care for others in this new and not new church home.
Finally, there is the both/and as World Cerebral Palsy Day was observed on October 6, 2024.
It is a heart-wrenching thing, this part of my identity that I so wish wasn’t AND after many years of grappling with what it means for and about me, to find pride, hope and love for myself and fellow CP warriors. It is so holy to see, validate and celebrate the bad-ass-ness (I made that up, can you tell?) that comes with living with and caring for those with this disability. This week, a friend finally got to bring her son (who has CP) home from at least a month’s stay in the hospital for complications with seizures and other physical issues. I am stunned by her son’s (and her own) positive attitude after so much. For as much shame as I have carried and overcome in my lifetime around my own diagnosis with CP, it is gift to be able to smile and be proud on World CP Day.
Here’s the thing…God is not, will not and has never been surprised at the ways he created us, the things we do need to go manage here, apart from heaven and how we are limited in our humanity in the midst of these things. He IS with us, even if it feels like he absolutely IS NOT. Deuteronomy 31:8 says, ” The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.”
Ohhhh, that’s such a hard one, isn’t it? We are so human in that feeling that says, “why does God put me through this? He COULD change _________________…..”
I hear it multiple times a day and my own reaction is understanding the question AND compassion. What I hear in that phrase, I immediately think, “oh, he is NOT, putting you through it; he is holding you, as he himself hurts that this is happening too.”
I do not understand all the mystery that surrounds the what’s, how’s and whys that surround God and his sovereignty. I have been there too, crying in rage, frustration and desperation. I have also come to a place where there is more peace in releasing the whys to God’s care and fully trusting him anyway…
I suppose that is how, after many years, many feelings, many experiences and many prayers, I can joyfully put on my green World CP day t-shirt, raise a “cheers,” to my fellow bad-asses, and hold space for that rather than the negative.
I am curious, how are you experiencing change in this season? Maybe we can hold each up, give more care to ourselves and others and float on these crazy waves of change rather than fight them…
God, who is in it all, through it all and who holds it all together: Thank you for understanding our limits, frustration and even anger when things aren’t changing for the good. Thank you being near, always. May we seek your understanding, your heart and greater trust in your love and goodness. May we see ourselves and each other with your vision, compassion and desire for whole-ness. May we know love and joy as only you can give.
xoxo
Both/And
Deuteronomy 31:8
Leaves on a stream, Montana and taking deep breaths…
(For my love).
“Shhh….” My love wrapped his arms around me, my heart hammering and breath fighting to get down to my lungs. “Imagine a canoe, gliding through the water, no sound, other than the water of the river. Drops drip off the paddle, look around and just see everything with wonder….”
After he’d described this to me a few times, I felt my body begin to settle, my muscles gradually aching with an unwinding from being tensed up due to CP and anxiety. I couldn’t feel each heartbeat any more, which was good, because I was calming. My love just continued to hold tight, and the grace he gave stunned me – I’d never known a love like this one and never will again. It is the closest I can imagine to the love of God, which I know was God’s very plan for marriage. Still, if I am honest with you, it is tough to feel worthy of this much love and grace, from both Husband AND the God of the Universe….and both seem to lavish it on me over and over.
This river is a long, unintentionally cultivated image between us, born out of many things. It is my favorite, most calming imagery when my emotion brain has highjacked my system, when my thoughts race and I can’t seem to slow them down; when I am triggered by, something. Anxiety among those with CP is very common, but we know that those without CP are also greatly impacted. The numbers of those diagnosed with anxiety has sky-rocketed in the last 5-7 years.
I hear it over and over in counseling sessions: the moments of flight, fight or freeze when something alarming sends a signal to our amygdala to release cortisol and adrenaline (emotion brain). In the same instant, our ability to access logic and thought, problem solving and sometimes the “obvious” reaction (logic brain), is rendered useless until something calms that overworked amygdala.
For nearly as long as I have been a licensed MSW and practicing counseling, this concept has been an important part of my sessions, at least once a day; but often, more than that. It is, along with both/and, the most important concept that I teach. It is not uncommon to have a laugh with clients who after a few times hearing it, are lovingly complaining that once I teach it, they can’t unhear it. Believe me, I get it! I even eyeroll myself at times when I just want to rant and engage in emotion brain, but instead, the words in my head are, “deep breaths, smell the flowers, blow out the candles.”
I use so many analogies with clients, some funny, others poignant and others downright silly, but I don’t know….maybe we all do better if we have a picture in our heads along with an important concept. I often ask them if they remember old cartoons when someone is panicking and breathing into a brown paper bag? While we giggle about the images, this is how it is with our amygdala: they just need AIR…slow quiet breaths in order to get back to a “normal level of stress,” turn off the flood of adrenaline and cortisol and return to logic brain.
For me, there are a couple instant images when I think about managing anxiety: anxiety floating like leaves on a river and Montana.
When I was an MSW intern at our local Hospice, I soaked up as much knowledge as possible from my gifted supervisor and the entire team, a multitude of disciplines and so many books on death, dying and the grieving process. One such book that left a lifelong impact is Dying Well by Ira Byock. It is a book filled with the truth as I and so many others have have lived it in regards to death and dying. While that entire year spent at Hospice was life-changing, I think the book normalized and encouraged the lens that was already developing for me, the lens of value, dignity, respect and normalcy in all areas of life, not approaching death or grief as a taboo subjects but instead, striving to be with our friends, family, neighbors, communities and even acquaintances in this stage of life. It was another layer of not wanting the assumptions, not about someone dying, their thoughts, needs or purpose. “We needn’t wait till death is knocking at our door to realize that the treasures in our lives are the people we love or have loved,” says Byock.
The book has a way of showing how the pace of slowing, how the being with one another IS the gift, even in end of life moments. It is the vision of release, slowing drifting as the river carries the leaves: our fears, pain, desire to fix, our deep grief in the loss of ones we love. All of these images have become the very fabric of my being. Acknowledging, processing, grieving and being at peace.
I drank up every sentence in that book. At that time, Dr. Byock’s blurb in the back pages said that he lived and worked in Missoula, Montana. And at the time, that was my only frame of reference for Montana. One day, after a long work/internship day and evening classes toward my MSW, I told my boyfriend (now husband,) “I think we should just run away to Montana. I want to go work with Dr. Byock.” He looked at me quizzically and I explained, Dying Well, my admiration for Dr. Byock and how the holiness of Hospice work was seeping into my bones. He hugged me tight and said, “I’ll go to Montana with you….” (there is a reason he is husband.) From then on, when I had a particularly rough day or a very inspiring one, I would somehow insert or inquire about going to Montana. And he always says the same thing: “I’ll go to Montana with you…”
We’ve been together for nearly 23 years and all along the way, Montana has remained a dream. Kids, homes, dogs, life, required our finances and to be honest, the time has just not been right. Though I now sometimes surf VRBO and Airbnb when I have a day and dream of Montana, hint shamelessly and somedays, just threaten to book our vacation, we have not YET. When we watched the series, Longmire, a few years ago, I even decided on the river I wanted to find…then found out is ACTUALLY in New Mexico! Still there are rivers waiting in many places…and watching Yellowstone has stoked our desire to go, in all new ways….
But we haven’t yet…
I think the dream of Montana and it’s calming power is actually in the imagining. Not that I don’t want to go! But I think if the idea of the river, log cabin, canoe and horseback riding can instantly calm me, then perhaps I am afraid to change the dream with the real live experience…
Do you know what I mean? Have you ever hoped for a thing and then it FINALLY arrived and the luster wore off way too soon? Then it was just over….. I would be heartbroken if these images that have been so steadfast and comforting, the splash of the river and the drips from the canoe somehow changed in real – life. And…we really do want to go find my Longmire River. I KNOW deep down that Montana’s beauty will be unparalleled. And…I really want to go sit on the bank and thank Jesus for the majestic landscape, to hold my love’s hand and say, “I’m so glad…we finally came to Montana.”
I pray you have ones that will hold you during moments of inspiration, fear, anxiety and everything in between. I pray all the dreams and hopes that God has placed within you will be realized, ten-fold. I pray that you can see him everywhere from the beaches in Michigan, fields of Ohio, the evergreens of Portland, the crashing surf of Hawaii and wherever your place is….
I pray you are inspired by leaders in your field, that hope and dignity abound and that we all can one day not need images to calm us, but that God’s presence instead floods every inch of our beings.
I pray for the richness of living well and when the time comes that grace and mercy usher us to the feet of Jesus, the arms of God the Father hold tight with peace; and HIS gentle murmur, all shall be well.
Both/And
1 Peter 5:7
xoxo
Perspective….
(Disney part 4).
June 21, 1996: I had barely turned 23, was enjoying life, post Hope College and still a huge Disney buff. I lived in the small ranch home I’d recently purchased that had been my grandpa’s, with a beloved roommate. She was strong, smart and a person with whom I felt known and understood. She has an amazing voice, taught me a lot about Jesus, heartbreak and acceptance. I worked for a local grass-roots relational ministry with teens that both challenged and grew me in ways that I still feel. I felt in some ways as if I was finding my place in an adult world and yet, not…I was still so young, with so many questions, hopes and dreams.
God was moving and changing me in ways only he could…ways that were impossible to see.
Have you been there? Do you know that feeling too? The feeling of both knowing change is happening and holding awareness that there was so much more going on than what it seems?
Roommate obliged my Disney fascination that day and we went to see The Hunchback of Notre Dame which was just released. True to the current Disney Renaissance, the music, colors and story were breathtaking. But this day, I couldn’t see any of that.
In what felt like a speeding semi-truck carrying 3000 pounds slamming into my heart, I stared at that screen as Quasimodo listened to Frollo in Out There: “You are deformed, you are ugly, (they say) you’re a monster.” Something struck like an arrow in my heart that somehow, believed some of the same about myself.
Maybe you’ve been here too? Suddenly struck by big feelings in a VERY inopportune time, that surprise and reveal something about yourself you had NO awareness of…
I sat in uncontrollable sobs, not understanding the suddenness, the bigness or the depth of these tears. One part of of me literally tried to wipe the tears and get my shit together and another wanted to weep for this sweet character at the hands of evil on the screen, for anyone who had felt the same and for my own very raw and unexpected pain….
Roommate was a gift, put her arm around me and handed me a grease-soaked napkin to wipe my tears. She was one of the few in my life that knew my CP insecurities at that time, a safe place that I didn’t even need to explain this gush of “ugly crying.” She may have understood those tears better than I did myself at that moment to be very honest. At the time, she and my best friend were two of the safest people I’d ever known.
I cried throughout the movie, the cry of being “undone -” during God Help the Outcasts, a song that still levels me; watching Quasimodo receive the love and respect of Esmerelda and his longing for something more. My 23 year old self believed I would always be dismissed because of my disability, could not see any normalcy in my being. This is often how I understand the way we all have distortions, particularly about ourselves, because for the longest time, I had them too. At least to a much greater degree than I do now! (Thank you Lord for redemption, even of our own perceptions….)
Over the course of this career, I have heard hundreds of cognitive distortions: “my smile is ugly,” “God cannot love me after all I’ve done wrong.” “I will never get over this.” “I am a complete failure….” “There is no hope, Stacy. This will never change.”
Whew….do you hear all those absolutes? My radar picks those up, quick! Gently, I nudge back…”always? Never? are you sure?” Then comes a (sometimes, involuntary) eye-roll….
Perception IS strong…and…truth is stronger.
While this is one tiny glimpse into some of my perceptions, we ALL, because we live on the fallen side of heaven, carry distorted perceptions. God in all his goodness, has led me toward truth, his truth of who HE made me (US) to be: “fearfully and wonderfully made;” – Psalm 139:14. “valued;” – Matthew 6:26. “known.” 1 Corinthians 8:3. “rescued, redeemed and forgiven;” Colossians 1:14.
To tell you of the whole journey would take the whole of my life. And to be true, this is not really about me. It is about US, in terms of the human experience.
Disney is in my opinion, is a powerful lens for me, so here is another small example. In Aladdin, we see a “street rat” who knows without doubt (at least in the beginning,) that there is so much more to who he really is. As the movie goes on though, he too, buys into the perception that he is not enough without the façade the Genie helps him create.
It is so vulnerable to just BE ourselves, isn’t it? And…if we can sit with it, tolerate the vulnerability, there is tremendous, beautiful freedom in the reality of who God has created us to be.
It is universal, how we strive to BE better, weigh less, act, cover the undesirable spots, etc. And it is universal…how we all are ALL, are exactly who and how we’re meant to be in the now and not yet. Our flaws, mistakes and insecurities are understandable and covered by the love of God, IF and WHEN we have the courage to hold them in that light.
Quasimodo, throughout the movie, finds himself changed, from within. Because of his courage, his ability to receive love and respect from Esmerelda, his perspective of himself is largely changed as well. From Disney movies to stories in our everyday lives, to the very way God commands the wind to blow…so too our perspective of ourselves, others and the world around us can and will shift. I am profoundly thankful that it is God alone who gives the ability to change at all.
Today, THIS very moment, I am praying for you…for the freedom for distorted perceptions about yourself and others. I praying for the eyes and hearts of the the most tender God who calls us each beautiful and chosen. I am praying that we all, each and every, can lean into kindness for ourselves…to be able to receive love, kindness, grace and mercy as we never have before.
“You’re braver than you believe, stronger than you seem and smarter than you think.” – Pooh, Winnie-The-Pooh.
Both/And
Psalm 13
xoxo
Ink…
I have a multi-faceted personality, if I can be honest with you. I am all sorts of things: introverted and love when I get to interact with my closest circle or those I find a new connection with; both anxious about the how’s, where’s and what’s that accompany my disability and very comfortable in other familiar settings, especially my back porch! I am both a rule-follower and I have a bit of a adventurer, perhaps even rebel streak. I’ve never tried cigarettes but have long thought IF I was ever going to, I was going to be a badass and try a cigar… (my 13 year old daughter’s eye’s popped out of her head as she proof read THAT sentence!)
I’ve long been living with both/and even before I knew it was a thing…
My first tattoo happened in my twenties. My dear friend Jeannine and I ventured into Purple East, which at the time, did tattoos. I felt so brave (and a bit badass if I am really honest) as BJ etched a tiny Jesus fish on my ankle. The backstory….
I was working at the time at an alternative education high school and soon into my job, I began to see how, for so many, tattoos are an external view of the parts of their story that they were willing to physically and emotionally show. When I stopped to realize what a privilege that is, it made me curious about every single tattoo I encountered. It also began to normalize the idea (and importance for some,) of wearing what is most important to you….
I had the privilege after getting my degree in social work to blend a job I adored and being “in ministry,” which as I age, just makes me grin, because no matter what we do, when we follow and love the Lord, we are all in ministry, aren’t we? I so love this idea…. and anyway, I digress.
Because I knew without doubt that my love for Jesus was forever, I decided that I wanted a tattoo, a small ichthus (Jesus Christ, God’s Son, Savior some commentaries translate). I remember explaining my surgery scar to BJ, the tattoo artist, the reason for my ichthus and the call to my parents to tell them about it afterward. I was both nervous and proud as I waited for their reaction, after this adult decision of my own!
I had also decided I wanted 2 Corinthians 12:9 curved around my ichthus which says, “My grace is sufficient for you, in your weakness, I am strong.” It was placed where it was, (as close to that big surgery scar as possible) as a reminder for all Jesus has brought me through, and all he has yet to: the painful, hard and really beautiful. It is a reminder that at my weakest, (or my strongest), he will be my strongest.
I will NEVER forget my first day back to the high school after getting that tattoo. It was late spring, I had intentionally worn shorts. I was expecting the question, hoping to share about Jesus. Because of the separation of church and state, I could not bring it up, but if they asked, I could definitely answer! It came much different as I expected though…
“Miss, what’s that say?” one of the girls half sneered, half curiously asked me.
“Corinthians. It’s a -” I began to answer but was interrupted quickly.
“Well, that your boyfriend?” She emphasized, wide, expectant eyes.
How I loved that moment and will never forget it, ever. It was real and true to the lives these kids experienced. I did get to tell her about my Jesus, my verse and so much more. For the next couple years in that school she would smile when she saw me, introduce me to friends as “Miss Stacy, she loves Jesus,” point out the tattoo or even tell the “Corinthian/boyfriend” story. I loved every moment.
That tattoo faded a bit, but brought about so many conversations as many years passed. In February 2020, there was this, an event and post I wrote just before COVID changed us all, the landscape and how we all all see things… in our weakness for sure.
A few weeks ago in church we had a sermon on “what does God think about politics.” Ben Post spoke eloquently, introduced Ve’ahavta, Hebrew for “and you shall love.” I have been resonating with his words for weeks, the idea of loving God and his people, despite differences. I am a strong believer in kindness, caring for others and giving the grace we would desire for ourselves. E wrote “Ve’ahavta” on my wrist on that Sunday and it felt like it was meant to be there. When it washed off, I asked her to write it again and again. Then I knew, I wanted it there permanently in her writing. Today, she, Jeannine and I went to do just that. (They for support.) I am so thankful for the example of my Savior to LOVE. I hope that reminder to love only gets stronger. I am thankful for the many conversations to come from E’s handwritten reminder. And you shall love indeed. 
I must tell you that even TODAY, FOUR YEARS and A FEW MONTHS LATER, I still, (STILL!) love seeing, feeling and explaining what this means to me. I love her writing, the consistent reminder to love. Just that…LOVE. Love when I see the annoyed cashier… or the client who I need to remind about an overdue account. Love myself and the extra pounds I wish would disappear, and the pups who chewed on my new shoes. And you shall love ( really try to model yourself after Jesus…)
Two Springs later, my youngest sat on my lap, running her finger over E‘s word on my wrist.
“Mama, are you going to get a word in my writing too?”
“Do you WANT me to get a tattoo in your writing? What would it be? ” I asked, surprised, but not surprised by her question.
“Yes, I do…” she said thoughtfully, then a few minutes after we both sat in silence, she asked if she could write her word. I knew if it had worked that way for one, it just might for the next….
She carefully, with fierce concentration and her tongue sticking out the way it always does when she is drawing the most important thing, wrote the word… J I R E H.
My heart skipped a beat…
She and I would belt out Jireh by Elevation and Maverick City every car ride to school, it was our anthem and our understanding of Jesus’s own heart. The Hebrew translations, in my limited knowledge says, “the Lord will provide.” It is layered with personal meaning as well as biblical meaning.
“Why that one, babe?”
“It’s our song and when I hear the song or the word I feel at peace.” I hugged her tight and wondered how long it would be until I made the appointment…..
A few weeks and many rewrites later, hubby got home from work a bit early. I spontaneously asked him to call the tattoo place just a few minutes down the road to see if we may be able to get it done.
That evening, my son’s best friend came over, was the first to see it and his smile was one I will not forget. “That is the coolest tattoo ever.” Joel told me. I smiled, knowing I loved all three of my little drawings….
The following Spring, I realized it was just undone, that I wanted words from my boys since my girls had both been so impactful. They were not as spontaneous, both needed some time to consider which word.. But what they came up with was no less important… sweet son and I have spent time watching all the Marvel movies together and most days, somewhere along the way will repeat to each other, I love you, 3000. If you know Marvel, you know. And If you don’t…well, it will be some fun research for you.
Hubby picked the word, adored, a word that even after 22 years together, I still struggle to understand. Am I really worthy of his adoration? And what does it truly mean? And do I show him mine enough?
(Oldest wanted to pick her own word, because technically, ve’ahavta was my own choice. Because it was the season of beginning to look at colleges, she wanted, always home to remind me that “wherever I go, mom, you will always be my home.”
Back to my now favorite tattoo place, and there I was, with my neat little square. It has been about one year exactly of loving those reminders of Jesus, my loves and their own handwriting. There have been countless conversations about my square, (for lack of a better description) and the pure love that comes with each…
You think you know what’s coming, don’t you? It’s a little different than you think…
Remember that trip I took with hubby to Disney in February? One night, as we got settled into the bus to return to our resort, I noticed a woman with a beautiful tattoo all the way up her arm. I sat in my wheelchair, unaware that I was comparing her tattoo and my own lovely square, looking back and forth between us. I don’t think I really thought much more than, to be honest, that hers was pretty, I wondered what the story behind it was, and if I’d been within earshot, I would’ve asked.
Cast member unlocked my chair, wished us good night, thanks us for visiting; rolled me down the ramp. Hubby took over pushing and with the voice of the one who knows me as well as I know myself, said, “I saw you looking at that lady’s tattoo. I can see you adding to yours and having something similar.” I couldn’t see his face as we entered the resort, but I could feel his truth, love and his big smile. I was both dumbfounded and I felt entirely known, even though I hadn’t even thought of it myself….
We talked about it many times during the week in line at Disney, while we nibbled on Mickey pretzels and “plastic cheese” and as we noticed others’ tattoos. We talked about it when we got home, with the kids who were so excited about the idea…which again, surprised me.
My E began drawing my story in tattoo form, all the meaningful parts of me and the pillars of what makes me who I am. I love her artwork so very much so that process was such fun by itself. What came out of all it was the desire to share who I am in an outward way that ultimately gives glory to God; gratitude for individuality, for love, the love of family and being content exactly as I am. From the time of Hubby’s comment to the ultimate design, the process was so full of “us.” And it felt so right…
Off to visit JR and Michelle, then a few weeks wait. The timing was perfect though, as my appointment was the Friday before Mother’s Day and just one week before E’s graduation open house. It wasn’t until I sat in the chair, with JR set to go that I realized that this time would be very different than getting my words. I gulped, and we were off….
4 hours later, JR had the bones of the tattoo finished. It was absolutely right. I was in a bit of pain and so much joy as I looked down the first night…hubby was in awe, daughter had hung in supported me the whole time and I just felt incredibly strong. That is SUCH a rare feeling about ourselves, isn’t it? I felt like, YES! Here I am! Let me tell you about my Jesus, my story, my personhood.
The next day I returned to have JR put the finishing touches on my new sleeve, a part of me that now feels like it has always been there.
-Along with my square are the kids birthdays and our anniversary. Next is my anchor, a symbol of many things including my alma mater, my hope, and a few special others. Going clockwise is BOTH/AND; Michigan, a representation of the Wind (an element in which I always feel God’s presence and power) and half of a quote that I share with my oldest daughter. Te amo represents my kids commitment to becoming bilingual and their love. Coordinates for one of my favorite places, my bike (freedom of movement) and then my hero Mr. Rogers is represented with 143 and Mentionable Managable. Up on my bicep is a butterfly in a state of change, the picture for me of Psalm 13. There is so much wrapped up in that butterfly, my hospice work and memories, my Jesus and so much hope. Finally, a windmill and Mickey; Lastly is a favorite quote from Cinderella, one of those life quotes that has just become my regular.
I keep looking at it and smiling…I keep grinning, feeling very unexpected, badass and so content; almost willing people to ask about it so I can tell about any part in which Jesus IS the story.
I told my mom, “I know this is probably not your thing. But I am so thankful, that in all of this life, through all the work I’ve done, I know who and whose I am.” She hugged me tight and said, “I’m so glad.” Me too, Mama. Me too.
Thank you my Jesus, for the so many ways that YOU create beauty, artistry, story. Thank you that you make each of us with unique loves, interests and things that move us deeply. May we always give you the glory. May we be curious about those around us who are willing to share their stories and reach out to hear them. And help us to see you reflected in it all.
Both/And
Psalm 13
xoxo
What we can learn from Ariel, Ursula, shipwrecks, grief and Jesus.
(Part 1 – Disney series)
Can I start very candidly?
I hardly know where to start when I think about writing about Disney, Disney movies and how these come together in my day to day…and yet, that’s probably because for me, it all blends together – my interests, my work, family and Jesus (rarely in that order).
I seem to talk about all of them together in whatever way or however I am speaking, so I suppose writing about them all together will not be that different.
I wanted to start by telling you, this fascination and joy with Disney probably began with our family trip (see last post) and then my first Disney movie at age 8. I don’t remember a ton of movies from my childhood, but goodness, for some reason my first was an instant favorite. We went to see the Fox and the Hound in 1981 and I was an fan! An orphaned fox, the cutest pup and all the emotions building to their unlikely friendship. I went home and named my own stuffed fox and dog, “Todd and Copper,” replaying their adventures all over our house. Many of the Disney classics had been released long before and most were still in the Disney “vault” as I grew up, but the seeds of curiosity, love and story had been firmly planted in my being.
I remember being absolutely horrified at Bambi, the very idea of little Bambi being orphaned was unthinkable to my sensitive heart. Still, the joy of Thumper and Flower made me smile and this movie too was cataloged as beautiful in my brain. We watched some others as I grew up – The Parent Trap, Swiss Family Robinson…I loved them all. I couldn’t get enough. The Wonderful World of Disney was on Sunday nights, always a staple along with a huge bowl of popcorn. FOND memories….
Around the beginning of 9th grade, we had moved to our current city, changed schools and church. We began attending Fellowship and met friends all around us. I also got a job at a local kids’ book store, called, “Pooh’s Corner.” My manager, Lisa, had befriended me a couple years before as I browsed the original, “Pooh’s Corner bookstore” at a mall about 45 minutes from our house. My love for Disney continued, along with a developing love for books. Lisa was instrumental in my self esteem, my own acceptance as she modeled those same things in how she treated me.
Around that same time, the Disney Studios released, “The Little Mermaid.” My cousin Pam took me to see it and I was thunderstruck…I was at an age where I believed in things like “love at first sight,” was completely enamored with auburn hair (this is an upcoming blog post, I am sure) and LOVED the music. I played the cassette over our speaker system at Pooh’s every time I could, belted it out in my room when that cassette was released for purchase and quickly deemed Ariel, “the best Disney princess, EVER.”
The release of The Little Mermaid is viewed by many historians as the beginning of “The Disney Renaissance era,” from 1989-1999. Though I am not by any stretch, as knowledgeable as these historians, I can tell you that for me, this era solidified my love, fascination and identity related to “loving Disney.” In my mind, I related to Ariel. I believed that I “should have been born with red hair,” also naively hoped that “my prince would show up, poof, we’d fall in love and live with Jesus, happily ever after.”
One of the biggest connections I felt though was pure freedom and a sense of lightness when I could get in someone’s pool. (Maybe this is how mermaids feel?) It was a spot of freedom from the complications of cerebral palsy. I DREAMED of life IN the water. I thought she was so brave (and a bit crazy) to defy her father, seek her own path and oh, her voice….
There are a lot of lessons that I learned from Ariel, her friends and family, some I continue to learn into my adulthood and add to with the release of the live-action version of The Little Mermaid last year. Here are a few, in no particular order.
- Don’t be afraid to be a “help.” Be safe, yes, but also quick to assist as needs arise.
- Be curious – “whoozits and whatzits galore, you want thingamabobs? I got 20…” I think Ariel (both) gave a great vison of leaning into the the things that bring us awe and curiosity. For me, this translates to the ways God has created each of us with interests, passions and curiosities, the nudging of the Holy Spirit to become those God-gifted versions of ourselves.
- Be aware of everything around you. As I grew up, I became more and more aware of the parts of Ariel that concerned me. As I often do with movies, I find myself thinking or speaking out loud, “why are you going in there, down there, through there, etc?! Don’t you see (or FEEL) the danger??” I am well aware that if Ariel had listened to the warning signs that screamed as she approached Ursula, the movie might have flopped, but I do think it’s a great talking point to listen, look and pay attention, especially, if something “looks and sounds too good to be true, it just may be.”
- Following your heart in the moment may bring more trouble than “a dream come true.” (and we all want “the dream come true.”
- Always try to be open-minded and non-judgmental about others. I loved how the current Ariel was brave in saying to her father, “not all humans are bad, father.” He assumed because a human had harmed his wife, that all “are barbarians.” I think both movies did this well, but the more recent Little Mermaid was much more pointed and articulated about this truth.
There are so many to name…including, fish are friends, not food!” Even so, the one that came to me out of the blue, very early in my career has to do with Ursula, shipwrecks and grief.
Do you remember the scene after Ursula secures the trident and grows to a towering monster of the sea? She begins to swirl the water where Eric and Ariel swim, creating a whirlpool from the sea floor up to the surface. As she swirls, long buried shipwrecks begin to rise to the top of the water, bobbing and swaying in the frothy, tumultuous water.
While an intern at Hospice, it occurred to me how an immediate loss was much like Ursula in that scene. Throughout my career, that analogy has become even clearer, especially with a traumatic loss. Subsequently, our past losses (shipwrecks) also rise to the surface as we move through current loss. Over time, this analogy has normalized a lot of loss, trauma and connection. The image allows me to give a framework to how losses, both current and past, connect and impact so many parts of us as we tend to the unwanted path of grief. And though this (probably) was not Disney’s meaning behind that scene with Ursula, shipwrecks and crashing waves, it has been the truest image of grief that I have ever seen.
The newest version of the Little Mermaid gives us deeper messages of acceptance, explanation, strength and grief: The crashing of hope, differences in beliefs, needs and desires; the unexplained loss of many and finally, a deeper understanding allows us a new (again) perspective of grief.
I am grateful for the creativity of animators who create images that give birth to ideas, deeper meaning and understanding. It is a miraculous moment when a therapist gets to assist in those moments of clear understanding and deeper truths inside of us. That image, in my experience, has provided many with a way of understanding and explaining what the magnitude of grief can feel like for some. It is then, that we get to discuss the magnitude of hope, resilience, strength and hope. Sometimes, there are discussions about how Jesus calms the storm, thus settling the water, the size of grief and assists with processing past trauma and loss right beside us.
When it is hard to find helpful words, hope sometimes becomes clear in a picture. Sometimes that picture speaks a thousand words. I pray that your pictures are full of Jesus’s heart and the hope of him, always. I pray for purpose that feeds the creativity that we were born with. And if you are facing Ursula, (the current grief) and shipwrecks (past losses, dreams unrealized, or other past pain), you are not alone. Lean into your support system, reach out for help, know that the God of heaven and earth is with and for you…always.
Psalm 89:8-9
O Lord God of hosts,
who is mighty as you are, O Lord,
with your faithfulness all around you?
9 You rule the raging of the sea;
when its waves rise, you still them.
both/and
xoxo
Even better than Disney?
(a series on ways that for me, Disney, Jesus and therapy all fit together…)
I took a deep, and I do mean, DEEP breath…the kind that I can feel all the way through my torso. The kind…that would make Mr. B, my choir teacher, so very proud. The plane was landing, I peered out the small window and saw palm trees swaying gently in the sunshine-filled sky, a breeze lulling them into movement, just a bit….
My love and I were there to celebrate our 20th wedding anniversary, my 50th birthday and anything else we could possibly celebrate. And yes, THERE was in fact, Walt Disney World. If you know us, then you are probably NOT surprised. If you don’t, well, it is time for a bit of my backstory and my love of Disney, Mickey, the love of all things good and more of Jesus.
I think I was about 5 years old the first time we visited Disney World. My memories are vivid, though few are actually mine. Many have been solidified by pictures of that trip. I clearly remember our stay at the Polynesian, getting to “drive the monorail,” being both scared and mesmerized, developing vivid memories of The Pirates of the Caribbean – arriving in the middle of a battle between the pirate ships, the musky, yet inviting smell of the water, looking up from the boat to see a pirate’s VERY hairy leg hanging off the stone wall above and “YO HO, YO HO….” that I would never forget. The Haunted Mansion – the “ghosts,” an elegant, yet spooky ballroom and organ, graveyards and a terrified man and his shivering dog. Yes, at 5, I was scared at some points and I was also completely smitten with the magic. WDW was indeed a Fantasy land to me. Parades, characters, music, smells and wonder.
My most vivid memories were those of meeting Mickey Mouse. I just loved him. I loved his smile, happiness and was thrilled when I got my own turn to visit with him. We went for a character breakfast at the Crystal Palace, but none held a candle to sweet Mickey for me.
Picking a souvenir was SO HARD! It was such a big decision and I could not decide….my dad still talks about how many gift shops we visited and how my sister and I had to go back to many. Still, I finally settled on a stuffed Mickey and oh goodness, did I love the stuffing out of that one. Once we got home, I was so distraught that I had split Mickey and Minnie up, that my parents had some good family friends pick up the matching Minnie on their trip a few weeks later. That surprise on Christmas was unforgettable.
We visited again soon after adopting my younger brother, about 3 years later. My brother was searching for Mickey on the runway as the plane landed. I remember the Poly again, the stuffed Donald Duck he treasured and the love of being there once again.
There have been a number of trips over the course of my life, the ones with my parents and siblings, the one in college when I had an opportunity to go along with a family I babysat for, another with my best friend, my sister and her husband and then the trips with my husband and eventually, our beloved kids. Throughout my life, my love for Disney, Mickey and Disney World has remained constant. It has been part of my identity for as long as I can remember. I was “Aunt Mickey Mouse” to differentiate me from another “Aunt Stacy” at Camp Geneva and I think, lovingly adopted Mickey and gang as my team. What began for me as a kid (and probably the obligation my parents and so many others feel to let their kids experience Disney as least once, thank you mom and dad!!) has become a true love with a place, a feeling and something I still have difficulty putting an accurate description to.
From my youth, my love for both Disney and Jesus have had defining moments in who I am. Obviously, these are not equal. But, on this trip, I began to see how present my experience of Jesus is, everywhere, even at Disney.
From being a kid truly enamored with the parks, the characters and Mickey himself to an adult Disney lover, researcher and fan for many reasons, it has become so much more than childhood infatuation. It is an awareness of goodness, joy and a sense of returning to those feelings of youth. It is so much more for many, evidenced by increasing social media accounts, blogs and an entire art form that has become related to all things Disney. Our recent trip (just husband and I), had me really listening, watching and becoming aware of a much bigger picture of Disney than most would assume….
There is a sense there, of “all being right with the world – a suspension of “normal stress,” even though it gets traded for the less talked about stress that is, “high Disney expectations that so often go unmet.” Still, Disney’s numbers do not lie. Since its’ opening on October 1, 1971, it is estimated that an average of 58 million visit yearly. For us, not yearly, but as often as possible with a busy life, kids activities, jobs, etc.
Before I write another sentence, let me tell you a couple important details. 1) I am a very glass-half-full person. Not in an avoidant or Pollyanna way, but in a way that continues to evolve as I age. I choose to believe the good. I love the perspective (and sometimes challenge) of seeing the good when it seems to be hidden.) AND…I can sit in the hard, negative or downright difficult. Both/And has become a way of life for me. It is not trite. It is for me, the only way to approach almost everything because nearly everything is multi-faceted. 2) I am very aware of the underbelly that is present with Disney and most other things. It is commercialized, at its core, a business to make money and yes, extremely expensive. I am not avoidant of that awareness either. I again, just choose the good, the joy and positive more than the negative….
That said….
Husband and I arrived to celebrate a few important milestones, to refresh, to be together, and to PLAY at the parks. We appreciate the quality at the resorts, the food and the now familiar joy of being on Disney property. I am not sure how, but they work VERY hard to ensure the cast members are kind, accommodating and will go an extra 10 miles if needed to provide each guest with a magical stay, no matter what. We have experienced this over and over again.
This time, though, I was acutely aware of kindness, even more than fantastic customer service.
This time, around, I chose to use a wheelchair, which is not my everyday experience. I typically use a wheelchair when there are long distances and/or uneven terrain.
One of the beautiful things about Disney is their awareness and care for those with disabilities. Every time we rolled up to an attraction, big or small, a cast member had made eye contact along with a smile, begun clearing the way, unlatching lane lines or already directing us to a specified accessible entrance, with a lot of care and acceptance. Each conveyed a seemingly natural sense of inclusion, almost as if they didn’t even realize they were doing so. Throughout rides, shows or even getting to our resort, cast members were ready with an additional arm to support, encouragement to “take all the time you need,” or simple issues related to dignity. This meant more to me than I can convey.
I follow many Disney sites and forums, therefore hearing a lot of different experiences. It is my joy to live vicariously through others experiences, especially because the reality of going to WDW as often as I’d like is impossible.
Recently, I read a story, how a single mom was determined to bring her kids to Disney World even though she herself struggled with an anxiety disorder, panic attacks, and acute claustrophobia. As she entered a ride vehicle, her panic set in, and she knew she needed to get off the ride. A cast member saw her get on, then quickly get off with her kids in tow. The CM gently guided her another direction past the line cue, brought her to an extra ride vehicle, then took time to let her practice getting in and out. The cast member then went a further extra mile and offered to go on the ride with her. She (the CM) pointed out the hidden exits throughout the ride in order to help her keep the claustrophobia at bay, as well as hidden ride details and a few distractions. As this brave, strong Mom relayed the story in the forum, you could almost hear her tears of appreciation and changed perspective, because a cast member was so infinitely kind.
Another recent story told of another single mom, bringing her sweet daughter, who was in her last few weeks of life due to a brain tumor. The mom explained how when they finally got their turn to see Anna and Elsa, she told Elsa about her daughter’s joy and devotion. The cast member assigned to help then closed the line, proceeded to assist with a bigger photo shoot just for this mom and daughter. The mom shared that her daughter had since passed away, but these pictures meant so very much to her in the gut-wrenching throes of grief. I am not sure if either cast member is on that forum or if they are aware of the life-changing things that they provided for these two exceptionally brave women and their kids.
My experiences are not nearly that profound. And they were beautiful…
As we boarded Soarin’, I was seated next to a woman who was terrified of heights. During our preflight safety check, she was going back and forth in fear, “I need to get off” then her grown daughters asked her to stay. “Is it really high?” she asked husband and I with wide, fear-filled eyes. Husband was so reassuring to her, explained the mechanics. “I think you will be sorry if you don’t try” he gently told her and I was so proud of him. Still as the ride began, her body went rigid next to me. “Oh SHIT,” she exclaimed, eyes closed tightly. I leaned over, covered her white-knuckled hand with mine. “If you want to hold my hand you can..” I whispered. Then I began to quietly narrate the scenery before us. “Now we are dipping low over a river, near some kayaks…” she opened her eyes just a bit, whispered, “ok, I like this…
Then we swooped up, over a mountain, said hello to a hang glider on the screen, then soared over a grove of orange trees. Smells of fresh citrus filled our nostrils. Then is was ocean waves, dessert wind gusts and the streets of Disneyland on the screen…all the while I whispered, she gripped my hand and we settled back on the floor. She smiled at me, her eyes giving all her thanks. I squeezed her hand and softly encouraged her to “find a good margarita if you like them.” “Oh, I will!!” She was gone in a flash. I was thankful to have been in that seat, at THAT moment.
My own experiences, held their own life-changing beauty. I sat in that wheelchair as my husband selflessly pushed, helped and purely loved me for many many miles in the parks. Countless times, cast members were right there to assist if we needed it. And then there were a few meetings with Mickey himself.
You may find it silly that going to get my picture with Mickey Mouse as a 50 year old woman was important to me. That’s entirely OK. But watching the cast members care, listening to the joy of each person who got to walk into any characters presence and hearing how much it meant to so many based on the lines to get there, tells me that I’m not the only one.
By the time it was our turn, husband and I had already established a routine. As the people ahead were getting their pictures, we pushed the wheelchair off to the side and then made work of getting up to visit Mickey & Minnie ( or whomever.)
As soon as the previous group had left the queue, Mickey turned his attention to me. There was such a gentleness and care as Mickey and Minnie both would take my hand and walk me over to the center spot. There was love and support that came through from the heart behind that costume. It was palpable and happened time and time and time again.
My adult brain is very aware of what is happening with a person behind the costume, but with each picture was the awareness that for at least 40 years this character has meant a lot to me.
One of my favorite quotes from Maya Angelou says, ” I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”
Disney is SO masterful at capturing the feelings - the music, the joy, the familiar, the wonder, (even the smells!) that bring us all back to a place we remember, if not in our actual memory, than in a deep, primal part of our brains. As I watched all those people in the park, seeking this feeling, enjoying the stability and sameness that Disney somehow manages, I was aware again, how we are all looking for the same thing in real life. We want things to be unchanging. We want joy and goodness. We want to be seen. We are all moved by kindness. We want wonder…we want to remember how all of it feels, at least I think so.
Yes, a lot of that can be found at Disney, not all the .time though. Husband and I giggled quite a few times with empathy for young parents who just wanted that sweet picture with their child and Buzz Lightyear, with Minnie or with a their favorite snack for their Instagram. And yet, as it happens, kids (and adults) get overstimulated, tired of waiting, hungry or sometimes, something we just don’t know. We all struggle with something, even at Walt Disney World.
It would be so easy for me to make Disney some sort of idol, even inadvertently. While I love so many things about The Walt Disney Company: the atmosphere, imagination and overall goodness found in the ability to experience a “fantasy” while on vacation, it is just that, a means to get away from “real life.” While Disney allows me (and so many others) to chase the feeling that we want to hold on to forever, there is something so much bigger.
Nothing in my life is separate from or more important than Jesus Christ. While Disney is my “joy,” a place and ideas where I find sheer delight, it always ends, at least for that vacation.
Jesus is unchanging, forever and ever. Romans 8: 38-39 says, “For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
While it is a fantastic vacation at Disney and we absolutely CAN find moments of experiences that reflect all the good, kind, joyful characteristics of Jesus EVERYWHERE, the God of Heaven and Earth IS all of those things and SO MUCH MORE! He is LOVE. He is LIGHT. He is PERFECT. He is so much more than our best experiences, even when we feel the characteristics in small amounts everywhere.
We experienced all kinds love and goodness while on vacation. As with so many people and places in life, there are so many reflections of Jesus: in our families and most intimate friendships, relationships, nature, artwork, creativity, skills, hobbies and abilities. It is ALL created to reflect and glorify the creator, even how we experience feelings, people and joy at Disney. I can experience a reflection of my Savior in everything, and I do. There is never a shortage of things to be in awe of. And nothing deserves my awe, my love and devotion more than He does. NOTHING compares to the journey and relationship with the Lord Jesus Christ.
In speaking with my friend and pastor, Ross, he told me about the Biblical idea of “Kal Vehomer.” In his words, “It’s a phrase that literally means “light & heavy” and it’s an argument that moves from the lesser to the greater. It’s usually translated as “how much more,” Jesus uses it when he talks about parents knowing how to give good gifts…and so “how much more” our Heavenly Father does too.” He went on to say, ” if Disney knows how to see & honor & love people — and to create an atmosphere of goodness — how much more does Jesus see and love and how much more does God know how to create a world saturated with goodness in the kingdom come.” I am so appreciative of this dear friend’s perspective, editing help and wisdom. I couldn’t have said this better myself. It is EXACTLY what I was hoping to say.
My love, thank you for showing me Jesus in all the ways as we spent this time together. Your care, joy and sacrifice on my behalf, are not unnoticed. You astound me every day. I am humbled to be given your love for this lifetime.
To each and every cast member who goes above and beyond, who work diligently to provide dignity, time, support and happiness to those of us who come and take this place for granted. Your efforts don’t go unnoticed either.
My Jesus, thank you for the sunshine and swaying palm trees. Thank you for opportunities to go and experience the magnificent artistry of Imagineers, creativity, visual and audible wonders of music, shows, food, fireworks and so much more. Your attention to detail so that we may experience joy is so, so extravagant. Thank you for the laughter of kids and adults alike, the way you are the one who has created wonder at all. Thank you that you are the true author of our stories, your presence in the good and evil, the deep down fear, battles, redemption and love. I pray that through all things, even Disney, you continue to use it to show us who you are.
Both/And
xoxo
1 Corinthians 13:4-8
PS I am hoping in the next few posts to write about some of the common analogies that I use in counseling using some of the poignant moments Disney has created that reflect to me humanity, Jesus and therapy all together…let’s see how it goes!
What is it that really moves you?
For a recent movie night with my husband and kids, I chose E.T. My kids, somehow, had NEVER seen this classic all the way through. I am still a bit shocked by that fact, even though we have certainly remedied that error. But as I sat watching this movie that was fairly formative for me, I could feel my heart squeezing, tearing and soaring as if it was the first time watching this endearing, complex and ultimately familiar story of love and loss.
I hope this is not a spoiler, but the bond between Elliot and E.T. is both beautiful and heart-breaking. It speaks of love and connection to me every single time I’ve watched it – with humor, perseverance, hope and the painfulness of goodbye. While every bit of that moves me, the thing that sends my heart soaring is the swell of the music while the boys, ET and their bikes rise to the sky. It is their laughter, freedom and surprise that truly stirs me. And it is their laughter, freedom and joy that awakens again in my brain this many years since ET’s release in 1982. 42 years ago! What is it that keeps us connected to a person, memory or event that so moves us?
According to multiple sources, an average of 35,000 people visit Walt Disney World each day. Each. day of the year! Whether you are one of those or you are one who is determined to avoid Disney at all costs, there is something that spurs true Disney fans on to journey to Florida, California or other parks across the world, over and over again. There is pure delight for young and old as they board a Doom Buggy and hear the opening strains of Grim Grinning Ghosts. When Splash Mountain closed last January to make way for Tiana’s Bayou Adventure, hundreds packed the Magic Kingdom for one last ride, some waiting 3 hours in line or over 3 hours just to see the final run of the iconic ride.
Again, I wonder, what is it, that draws one person or another to have such an emotional connection to a place or event? The ones that are obvious are the weddings, baptisms, graduations and yes, funerals. But what about the things that are personal to us and us alone?
I can touch the triangles in the quilt I had made of my kids baby cloths and be transported to their baptisms, their days of little league, rec soccer, or even everyday events that are stored deep in my memory. That quilt is one of my favorite gifts to myself this past year. Rather than store all their old stuff in a bin in the storage room, I now can wrap myself in these moments and share the stories with them again and again. “Tell me about this one, Mom.” “Oh, I remember that one!” These moments flood me with the joy and love of family while the days seem to fly by.
Perhaps it is the strain of a song that brings you back to a place or time or like me, a movie that moves us to feel and remember.
I loved crooning Rainbow Connection and Top of the World in music class with Ms. Crawford in elementary music class.
When the bagpipes began at our wedding 20 years ago, it was a moment. We’ve heard from many of our loved ones what a beautiful moment that was…and yet, I am sure that not many, (other than our parents and ourselves) would know the name or even strains of the song. Yet, when it comes on because it is in one of my playlists, I am instantly transported back to standing in the back of the church, clutching my dad’s elbow and locking eyes with my love where he stood waiting for me.
I am nearly every Sunday, moved to tears as I worship. I feel something deep, deep down that almost cannot be described. Recently, our church did a four week series visiting the decades of the churches history, including the worship. Music has always been a big part of my relationship with Jesus. The Tree Song (anyone remember this one as well?), El-Shaddai and Awesome God bring me straight back to the wonder of my kid and pre-teen years. Hold Me Jesus, The Great Adventure and Ancient of Days recall my deepening relationship with Jesus while classic hymns and current offerings add to my of understanding worship and the love of Jesus through gifted musicians. I could almost make a timeline of my life based on certain worship songs and return to the time and place God was working in my heart – and I am stirred.
Even though I am NOT a lover of snow, I drew in a breath yesterday as I left the house, opened the garage and stood instantly in the middle of a snow globe. Huge, fast flakes covered our drive and lawn, untouched by dirt, other cars, footprints or anything. Daughter whispered, “even you, can’t be mad at that…” How right she was. Even when my muscles tense and my heart is grumpy because it too, is cold, I cannot deny being moved by the beauty, even briefly.
Maya Angelou said, “We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.”
Why is that? It is sheer wonder on both sides, the process and the result. What if we lived that way all the time – allowing ourselves to be moved, stirred and alive in both? Could we notice: The colors of the fall and how they got there? The joy of a Christmas bike ride and the mechanics of bodies that can? A warm cinnamon roll cookie made by my daughter. The conversation with a beloved friend, ending in a hug and deeper understanding, the way the horses gallop to the fence when I bike to Windmill, then gently let me pet their silky noses. Finally, the way I walk into physical therapy with a bit of anxiety, pain and frustration with my sore ankle and leave encouraged and grateful from the help of my wise physical therapist. I am moved by sunsets AND sunrise, embrace the pang of sadness because I finished a fantastic book. I am moved as I continue to learn and become a therapist, never losing the wonder at the trust of walking intense, beautiful journeys.
And the reason I am moved at all? Because the IMMOVABLE is so moved to love me at all. I sometimes imagine his glee in creating it all – giraffes, trees, tea, dogs, my loves. Hyacinths so fragrant that I can’t breath in enough, (lilacs too, for that matter,) being able to witness the success and accomplishments all around me. The deep belly laugh of my love when my daughter delivers a witty comment when least expected and the hug I get from my mom just when I need one. The perfect bite of lemon meringue pie that transports me to my Gram’s table, the tiniest sight of a rainbow in the middle of a blizzard….
Psalm 92: 1-2, 4-5 says,
1 It is good to praise the Lord
and make music to your name, O Most High,
2 proclaiming your love in the morning
and your faithfulness at night,
For you make me glad by your deeds, Lord;
I sing for joy at what your hands have done.
5 How great are your works, Lord,
how profound your thoughts!
I could go on and on in praise and thankfulness. But truly, I wonder, what moves you?
Perhaps it is grandkids, or your pet, your artwork or your favorite band. Perhaps it is a beautiful requiem or holding your loved ones favorite shirt after they’ve passed. I think the key is to allow ourselves to be moved at all. Do we take the time to notice all the things the CAN move us or do we miss it? No judgements, just thoughts….
I pray you find sheer delight and wonder in all the everyday ways in which God delights in you. I pray you KNOW, that you are knit together in such a way that you are INTENDED to be moved, over and over and over by your creator. And I pray that if you are struggling, the wonder and movement can be held with and for you until you can find it again for yourself.
“Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than we ask or imagine; according to his power that is at work within us.” Ephesians 3:20
Both/And
xoxo
Longing for bravery in the new year and a few lessons we can learn from Elsa…
The heaviness he shared felt nothing short of oppressive…a 100 pound weight blanket that paralyzed in every way. He shared all the methods and advice he’d been given over a lifetime of fighting and I do mean, FIGHTING depression. From all the adages that well-meaning friends, family and professionals advise: “eat healthy, exercise, journal, pay attention to negative thoughts, mindfulness, prayer, meditation, yoga…” There was also deeper advice, involving medication, invasive brain treatment and years of therapy….
My heart breaks as I listen intently. I both BELIEVE in ALL of that true and well- researched advice and I am again understanding how depression can feel, paralyzing a person’s ability to help themselves. All I can do in these breathtakingly sad and difficult moments is be near: witness and empathize and validate the sheer anguish that IS everyday living with depression.
A video popped up on my feed yesterday in which Kate Bowler was interviewing Lisa Damour. The title of the video said, “How saying, that sucks, I’m sorry has spiritual power. (See link below!) https://youtu.be/mHQGCNeBx7k?si=DwOX89K_BwW5Iy7S
Don’t we all just want someone to be WITH US when something really hurts, agonizes or aggravates?
It is still, after 23 years in the field of counseling, an amazing moment when I am allowed to sit with clients in the hardest, most painful parts of life. The moment when I remind myself to stay silent and after the right pause in the telling of one’s story, I can just utter, “That must be so hard, I am so sorry,” or, “that sucks…” It IS spiritual. I can physically see sighs of relief, shoulders loosen or facial expressions ease as I listen and acknowledge each person’s lived experience….
Losses that feel so final that one doesn’t know if they can gather the strength to take another breath. A cancer diagnosis that in a swoop, changes an entire families’ future plans or years of infertility, treatments and silent suffering amidst a world of women who seem to easily get pregnant; and the slow, cruel loss of a lifetime of dreams about motherhood. These are just a few this year, that I have the honor of being with.
To be entirely honest, I am often torn between the helplessness so many feel, the responsibility in my calling and the sheer audacity of hope that I am allowed to witness each and every day.
My grandfather died nearly 30 years ago, about two years after my grandma. Both died very suddenly and I don’t think I had a clue what grief was, mercifully, until then. I know that I had not fully processed the loss of Gram, when I received a phone call while at work (my parents were on vacation) that my Aunt had found Grandpa at his home after what appeared to be a stroke.
The days and weeks to follow were a blur. Somewhere in those new, raw and unreal days of loss, I heard a song lyric about, wishing you a brave new year. I clung to that phrase, not at all sure how to be brave and hoping it was possible, to indeed have, a brave new year.
That phrase has stayed with me ever since….both the undeniable, unstoppable hope in that wish and the awareness, deeper over time how monumentally hard it is to feel, be or hope to be brave. From the time I heard that lyric to the present is a journey from finding my own bravery to helping others find it also.
What comes to mind with the word, brave? I threw out a small poll and here are some of the responses I received:
“Bravery and courage are interchangeable to me. It’s being fearful of stepping forward, but doing it despite fear and WITH the fear.
But the thing is, the fear you started the steps with, never makes it to the end point with you.”
-JB
“Brave is an adjective. To be brave is to do or be something that you never believed possible, to beat the odds that are stacked against you; to continue growing amidst challenges and obstacles, to choose to get up in the morning when it seems there’s nothing to even wake up for, to make it through the day, to forgive, to do all the things that in your mind can’t be done. Bravery and faith are intertwined, as they are both taking the first step, even when you can’t see the whole staircase.” -EM
“To Overcome, not all heroes wear capes.” – MM
“Fear because usually when you are brave you are doing something that scares you or gives you fear” -EWM
For me, there are many that come to mind. There is the Disney movie starring feisty Merida, of course. There are so many inspiring stories from all over social media. There are those who currently, as I write, are somehow bravely surviving in war-torn parts of the Middle East and beyond. I think of a pastor I began listening to 2 years ago who has recently had a recurrence of cancer in his brain. I think of how Amy Purdy, who inspires me, starting with her appearances on Dancing with the Stars.
But do you know what else? My perspective of brave has shifted. The images above ARE so brave…and so is the family who is advocating for mental health awareness following the unexpected death by suicide of a beloved friend, daughter, son or parent. Those who are quietly coming to sessions, learning to feel all the hard feelings and sharing their story safely.
Brave IS the person who DOESN’T give in to the temptation to relieve their pain by attempting suicide. Brave IS showing up day after day in the midst of bullying, holding on to your own beliefs and not giving into the ever-present lies of worthlessness. Brave IS saying, “I am not going to drink, smoke or hurt myself” when it seems so much simpler to do so to ease pain. Brave is every day -choices to live out faith, beliefs and boundaries when there is so much pushback…
Brave is continuing to fight whatever fight you are fighting: a minute, hour, day, week, month or year at a time. Brave is listening to that strong voice inside you that guides you to the next right thing. Maybe that means relinquishing something we love dearly this year, dream or part of because you know it is right. (By the way, I believe, that the right thing is rarely the easy thing and that in itself is brave. Maybe that is choosing your own need or right thing amidst a sea of opinions, advice and pressure from all around.
It is BRAVE to change career paths amidst choices and already laid paths leading to a “safe” spot, but the gnawing inside you is unable to forget a different opportunity or idea.
Have you watched Frozen 2? Elsa, Anna, Kristoff and friends are busy in what seems the “happy ever after” following Frozen. Yet, Elsa is stirred by an unknown, beckoning voice. She tries so hard to ignore the voice, yet, in, Into the Unknown, she cannot not hear it. (Link to the song here. https://youtu.be/l1uoTMkhUiE?si=oP-FUbE-5jcwVLy9 )
You can hear her internal struggle between both wanting to be content and afraid to let people down or change and then…the brave, heart-swelling moments of finding herself and her truth. Later, as she comes to a watershed moment in her quest to understand the calling – she is earnest, passionate and brave in seeking.
Maybe you agree or don’t, but to me, Show Yourself (https://youtu.be/md7dK5-qvHc?si=oUicMlnS5TMG5wFN) is a picture of embracing the Holy Spirit in some ways. The brave, brave effort of seeking truth and the singular drive toward hope is astounding.
Maybe our job with bravery is to see it in all things and understand that it really is breath-taking. Getting up in the morning for some, is the BRAVEST thing. Believing in yourself, so brave. Praying and holding on…I believe all of heaven is moved in this brave, holy effort.
Maybe…just maybe, we need to slow ourselves, offer so much more tenderness and earnestly seek the ways we and others around us are profoundly brave in this next year. Change IS brave. Big and so small. Hope is brave, always. Trying, is so brave! Surrender and tenacity and when we need each, is ridiculously brave.
Give yourself permission to change the way you experience brave this year. Don’t buy into the January hype that may say the only way to success is weight-loss, new goals and resolutions. Try Softer, as Aundi Kobler’s book says. (If you need a beautiful read, that one is it!) Kinder, softer slower.
Bravery is all around you. I believe in you and I know and believe in who Jesus is. Always.
1 Cor. 16:13
Holding my rail…
“Don’t let go of your rail.” I encouraged last week during a counseling session, to a person who has been enduring emotional abuse for the last 10 years. They have been working so hard on boundaries and I am so proud. As my day wound down, the memories and years I have been giving that phrase to brave clients played like a soundtrack in my head. It was no surprise to me that a smile pulled at my lips and my brain found the very first time I myself was told the exact same thing….
I was in my 20’s when I began the self care practice of getting deep tissue massages. I had/have a complicated relationship with this body, as I believe we all do. I was a young woman, introverted and not yet aware of how to care of these muscles who endure so much. Cerebral Palsy was confusing by itself, but learning how to care for and love a body that was hard for me to trust was…well, let’s just say that I am still and probably will always be learning about that in some ways. I am both much further than I was and not yet where I want to be.
I can’t remember how I came upon Suzy. It took many months, but my body and my heart would eventually trust this massage therapist who is kind and knowledgeable. She was for quite some time, a very safe person to open up to while she helped me learn what I needed with this disability AND this body. Suzy became more than my massage therapist, she was a teacher in many ways, as well as a friend, insightful and caring. While she was loosening my muscles, she also helped loosen my fears, insecurities and walls.
During one such appointment, I lay on a massage table while Suzy rolled my calf muscles, a vulnerability it had taken me a long time to brave…she would press so hard on the bottoms of my feet, which to me, is heavenly! Much of my spasticity originates in my feet, I have learned. She was a bit in awe that I wasn’t screaming in pain as she worked hard to get my muscles to release some of the tension that it does not realize it is gripping so tightly.
“I have made burly quarterbacks cry with much less pressure than this.” She quipped as I lay facedown on her massage table. I remember feeling simultaneously sad for said quarterback AND feeling very strong in that moment. Later I would say to myself, “how badass am I, if football players cry about this and I DON’T!”
That day, I was telling her about a concert I had attended a few nights before with a friend. The arena near our home is big and crowds have always been anxiety-provoking because of my balance. I tense up, fear getting bumped, falling and/or getting trampled. I explained how when I go down a set of stairs, I hold the rail tightly to keep myself upright and as safe as possible.
Inevitably though, someone will come up the stairs, (against the down-going flow) in the same spot that I am trying to go down, both of us holding tight to that rail. At that time, I firmly believed that I was required to get out of someone’s way if they came up to me that way. I erroneously believed that I was doing the better thing by letting go so they could pass, even though I would tense up and get very scared on that step until I could grab ahold again, clinging tighter still with a now clanging heartbeat. Perhaps this was VERY ingrained, “put others before yourself,” or people-pleasing because I thought that I had to be extra nice to everyone to make up for needing extra help sometimes. Either way, as I described it to Suzy, her eyes grew wide.
“You know that is not safe for you, right?” She had a stare that seemed to go right through me. And to be honest with you, I had never considered that. Now was my turn to blink and replay the events from a few nights before, including how I had handled those arena stairs.
“Huh…” I murmured, wondering for the first time in my life why I was indeed, getting out of someone else’s way when they were going the wrong direction and when it was more than necessary for me to hold on….
“Don’t you NEED the rail?” She asked, gently, working hard on my feet and toes, which I was noticing had become tighter and more contracted as she asked her questions.
Out of nowhere, tears filled my eyes and my nose filled up in mere seconds. I did. I could not get down any flight of stairs without that assistance.
A surprising silent wail threatened to rise from the toes that were painfully clinching to keep it deep down. She must have known…but she silently let me hold that wail, a soundless sob that shook my whole body. It was THEN, that I began to understand AND acknowledge how terrifying it was, to try to move and get out of someone’s way on those steps as I felt obligated to let go of those railings….
THAT was the day that I truly began to understand the connection between emotions and bodies. My own body was a living, moving example, (which to my chagrin at this moment,) that I could not control.
Suzy gently finished kneading the muscles in my feet, then walked softly to touch my shoulder. I was grateful to be laying facedown; snot running out of my nose. At least I didn’t have to look in her kind eyes. If I had, the sob would’ve burst forth and I undoubtedly would’ve been more undone…
“It’s ok for you to hold on and make them move,” she said and this was an entirely new revelation to me.
“It is???” I asked, unable to keep the surprise out of my voice.
“Absolutely! You didn’t know that either, did you? ” She asked gently. Now she was surprised.
“I guess not,” I said. “I just never wanted to make things hard for anyone else.”
Suzy gave me an intense look that I could feel rather than see, then silently swept out the room so I could get dressed. When I came out a few minutes later, I walked to the desk. She surprised me again when she gave me a hug, telling me softly, “You don’t make things harder for anyone. Don’t let go of your rail. You have every right to need it and hold on.” Tears filled my eyes again, the tears of being seen, known and cared for. I thanked her and pondered railings, staircases and acceptance for many days following that massage.
A few weeks after that massage, I stood at the top of the stairs somewhere, pausing before I told my feet to step down, then another and another.
Suddenly, about 1/3 of the way down, a man darted up in the wrong direction and was face-to-face with me at that railing. My heart raced, I began to gear up to let go, but the sound of Suzy’s voice in my head gave me a second to pause. “Don’t let go of your railing…”
I held tight, tried to reassure myself that I was “not inconveniencing anyone,” and waited.
The man in front of me looked around quickly, then moved around me with ease.
I nearly burst into tears…change was happening….I had gotten out of the way for so many, so many times, that this change was a relief and in those early days of changing my own beliefs, felt both exhilarating and exhausting.
It has been nearly 25 years since that conversation with Suzy. Yet, as I write, I can remember every moment, how God himself began working in my head, heart and muscles because of those moments. Over the course of that time, I have held the rail SO many times. In fact, I don’t think I have let go since. That doesn’t mean is always easy to put myself first.
Just a few days ago, I began descending the stairs of a local high school after a dizzying week of swim meets, birthday (for my newly adult daughter) and all of life in between. I was tired, happy and as always, a bit awestruck at my teens’ (and their friends) incredible physical abilities in the pool.
As I gripped the railing and began instructing my leg muscles, (“step down, pause, gather your balance. Ok, step again…pause, repeat…”) a little girl darted up the stairs, running so fast right into my projected path. My heart began hammering and my inner dialogue changed gears, “hold on, just wait. Stop, you don’t have to move.” I held too tight, so tight my fingers throbbed, but Suzy’s voice came back even though I have not seen her in MANY years: “Don’t let go of your railing.”
Suzy’s voice, presence and how God used her in that one day: the last five-ten minutes of a massage has multiplied more times than I can count. “Don’t let go of your rail,” has become such a normal phrase for me personally, and also professionally.
Sometimes, “don’t let go of your rail” applies to family dynamics, boundaries, self worth and communication. Other times it applies to stating our needs, wants and emotions. Still others, “hold on to rail” can become a symbol for an anchor in a storm, grief, major life change or unexpected illness. There have been countless times where I have drawn on this phrase as a metaphor or physical reminder.
Personally, it is a whispered phrase of safety and self worth when someone stares a bit too long; a reminder to when my former soundtracks begin to blare: “I am a burden” “People are staring.” It is a phrase of comfort when I hear comments like, “what’s wrong with her feet, mom?” overheard in a store. At 50, all of these bother me less and less often than when I was younger, but occasionally, we ALL need the reminder, don’t we? The reminder to take care of ourselves, to let others’ opinions float away, to claim our own space, to hold tight to Him who IS the very best stability and anchor. To lean on the those who are dependable, even when we feel we’re going to fall…
Do you have a phrase, a mantra or reminder that you say to yourself when things feel hard? Maybe it is a role model that you emulate, one who feels placed in your path or vision for such a time as this…
Along with phrases and nearly every famous Mr. Rogers quote, there are many who inspire me, too many to name or count. One is Alecia Beth Moore Hart. Maybe you know her too, better by the name, Pink. Her journey is well-documented, from rough and badass, loud and rebellious to awe-inspiring performer and everything in between. She is an advocate for therapy, doing our own work, both individually and and family. Pink is unapologetic, she swears, she loves, she accepts and she bites back at fans who criticize and belittle. She is driven, seemingly fearless and athletic. AND she is a mama, wife and musician. She is a role-model in “holding her rail.”
I began following her music after seeing her perform an aerial silk routine on the Grammy awards in 2010 which left me completely thunderstruck. Her physical abilities and performance left me jealous and mesmerized. Since, I have listened to her music, followed her career and at times smiled at her attitude while turning the music down in the car so the kids wouldn’t pick up on ALL the words. Attending one of her shows is certainly on my bucket list. Recently, she did an interview on 60 minutes.
“These muscles that scare people? These muscles are my power…I eat well to go far, fast and hard.” -Pink
I sat watching, trying to understand how anyone could be scared of her muscles! Then I thought, “that is how you hold your rail….”
I had been scared of my own muscles, to trust and depend on them. I But as I listened to Pink, I resonated with this quote, negative beliefs and power in and throughout the journey. These muscles ARE my power…
What had begun for me with Suzy was God-breathed, his own reminder of being with me. He used Suzy; through that one conversation, she showed me how to reclaim my power AND hold my rail. I hold on, I show up for myself and I do my work to go far, especially with CP.
Today, I encourage and challenge you to “hold your own rail,” own your presence and look to the one who will never leave you to go it alone. Maybe it IS through hard interactions this holiday season, losses or grief that threatens to swallow you. Maybe it is finally allowing yourself to see your own good, hold your own needs or share your truth. Perhaps holding your rail is seeing the Savior with fresh eyes this Christmas.
I am thankful for every bit of it, even the scary moments when I let go and wasn’t sure why. That makes the times I’ve held on and helped others hold on also, that much sweeter. I thankful for the big and small encounters, the role models (some of whom we may never physically met) and the growth and confidence God bestows over the course of time. I am thankful for Suzy, Pink and those who I get to walk with. I pray you are kind to yourself, giving grace and mercy, especially to yourself. And I pray that you can hold on to your rail, because it is so worth it.
I wish you both a Blessed Christmas and a brave New Year
Hebrews 13:5
Both/And
