Author Archives: janaremy@gmail.com

making a fist

Perhaps one hard lesson of the last few years of my life has been to learn to express uncomfortable feelings–the coping mechanism of so many years of suppressing sadness is hard to undo.  But what I’ve realized is that I can tell when there’s something I need to express…because my left hand will be balled into a tight fist. Generally I don’t even know that I’m doing it, but I will look down and see the knuckles white and fingers tight and know that something is awry.

(It’s been interesting to peruse my photos from the last few years and to see how many of them include that tight fist in the frame.)

Today, I am finding my hand in a fist because of that hug that I gave my college-bound son at the side of my car just before he walked away with two suitcases in hand.*   That moment recalled many similar hugs that I’ve given in the past.  Hugs meant to hold on to someone who was leaving.  To keep them close and safe, despite distance.  To offer a memory for me to grasp on days when my hands are empty.

Making a Fist
by Naomi Shihab Nye

For the first time, on the road north of Tampico,
I felt the life sliding out of me,
a drum in the desert, harder and harder to hear.
I was seven, I lay in the car
watching palm trees swirl a sickening pattern past the glass.
My stomach was a melon split wide inside my skin.

“How do you know if you are going to die?”
I begged my mother.
We had been traveling for days.
With strange confidence she answered,
“When you can no longer make a fist.”

Years later I smile to think of that journey,
the borders we must cross separately,
stamped with our unanswerable woes.
I who did not die, who am still living,
still lying in the backseat behind all my questions,
clenching and opening one small hand.

*He’s not gone to college quite yet, but will be with his Dad for a few days until he leaves

predatory

In the midst of a sublime weekend, two reminders that I live among predators…

First…Ellycat is now officially a hunter–she left the remains of her first prey (a mouse, it seems) on the floor in my bedroom on Sunday morning (the catch probably coming from a brief meander outside on Saturday evening while the rest of us were busy over some Flemish stew and a bit of Belgian ale).  Now I know that I am safe from rodents with her around.  That she has now taken to draping herself over furniture like a mighty cheetah is rather endearing.

And then this morning as we had breakfast and coffee on the back patio, a red-tailed hawk joined in.  He sat on the fence looking around for awhile, oblivious to the humans below.  It’s the first time we’ve been him in the week that we’ve lived at the new place.

I, for one, am pretty happy to know that we have two rodent-eaters on hand.

Photo above of the swing on our front porch.  One of my new favorite spot for morning coffee-drinking…

our finest impulses…

(h/t Jen Grey)

“Every day we slaughter our finest impulses.
That is why we get a heartache when we read those lines written by the hand of a master and recognize them as our own, as the tender shoots which we stifled because we lacked the faith to believe in our own powers, our own criterion of truth and beauty.
Every man, when he gets quiet, when he becomes desperately honest with himself, is capable of uttering profound truths. We all derive from the same source. there is no mystery about the origin of things. We are all part of creation, all kings, all poets, all musicians; we have only to open up, only to discover what is already there.”
― Henry Miller

but happiness floats…

This poem expresses much of what I’ve been feeling lately–so much deep satisfaction with my life’s happenings.  Sometimes it feels almost wrong to be so pleased with things, to have so many elements fall into place.  But at the same time, I also believe in the line of this poem that “You are happy either way…”  Because I’ve nearly-always chosen happiness, despite the difficulties of my life circumstances.

Still sometimes I wonder if because I’ve had challenges in so many things for so long, what I will do if things are just good?  Will it cause my life to be boring and predictable?  Will I create small and unnecessary dramas because I don’t have big ones anymore?  Or will I start getting itchy for the open road and new possibilities (and dangers)?

Two nights ago (my first night sleeping on my own bed in our new house), I woke up realizing that I’d slept better than I had in years–deep, restful, peaceful sleep.  And now I’m looking forward to so many more nights of that ahead…and thinking that whatever the future might hold, for now I will just relax and see how things unfold from here…

So Much Happiness

by Naomi Shihab Nye

It is difficult to know what to do with so much happiness.
With sadness there is something to rub against,
a wound to tend with lotion and cloth.
When the world falls in around you, you have pieces to pick up,
something to hold in your hands, like ticket stubs or change.

But happiness floats.
It doesn’t need you to hold it down.
It doesn’t need anything.
Happiness lands on the roof of the next house, singing,
and disappears when it wants to.
You are happy either way.
Even the fact that you once lived in a peaceful tree house
and now live over a quarry of noise and dust
cannot make you unhappy.
Everything has a life of its own,
it too could wake up filled with possibilities
of coffee cake and ripe peaches,
and love even the floor which needs to be swept,
the soiled linens and scratched records…..

Since there is no place large enough
to contain so much happiness,
you shrug, you raise your hands, and it flows out of you
into everything you touch. You are not responsible.
You take no credit, as the night sky takes no credit
for the moon, but continues to hold it, and share it,
and in that way, be known.

going the distance…

I spent this morning in the ocean with some coaches, getting tips on my long-distance swimming.  I’m new at this, so I had a lot to learn, and it was incredibly generous of these folks to offer their time to help me.  It was arranged via the Challenged Athletes Foundation (CAF), for disabled athletes who are preparing for triathlons and need open-water swim skills.*  This is the first time that I’ve worked with CAF and it was an interesting experience.

First of all, I want to emphasize how appreciative I am of the experience and how responsive the coaches were with me, not knowing me beforehand or being confident of my swimming ability (and, I did choke a few times out there–I’ve never tried to swim for distance in the open water and it was tougher than I thought it would be).

What made me feel the best was when the coaches critiqued what I was doing and challenged me to do better, rather than when they took it easy on me.  For example, for the first 30 minutes or so I simply couldn’t get my head in the water–it was so cold that every time the water closed around my ears I couldn’t breathe.  It was probably partly from the temperature and partly from my own nervousness at ‘seeing’ what was underneath me with my goggles on (I never really want to know what’s down there) that I struggled with this.  And there was also an element of fear because I didn’t know how to swim straight with my head in the water–how was I supposed to see the turn buoys up ahead and aim for them?  But one of the coaches helped me to focus on bringing warm air into my sinuses before I rolled my face into the water, and blowing that out more actively which each stroke rather than holding my breath.  By doing that I was finally able to get my head in and make progress (it was also much less exhausting than trying to stroke with my head out of the water).  And, by the time two hours had passed, I’d put in some really good laps out on the water and had improved markedly.  By the end it was pretty easy to swim the length of the Newport jetty and back.

Perhaps the most important thing I learned from the experience: if I’m going to spend a lot of time in the water I’m going to need a wetsuit (despite my confidence that I already spend enough time in the ocean that I’m acclimated to the cold water temperature).  It took more than an hour after I returned home to get warmed up again after my time out there–my fingers and toes were still numb long after the rest of me was thawed out.  I’d also like to find a swimming buddy who wants to make a habit of early-morning ocean swims.  Once I have a wetsuit I could imagine that this would become an important part of my training regimen.

And finally:  as I was walking back through the waves to the beach (and struggling a bit to get my feet under me in the shifting sand), one of the coaches scolded me a bit:

“Never turn your back on the ocean,”  she explained.

I realized in that moment that I had no fear of the waves coming up behind me.  I laughed it off–telling her that if I fell in, there was hardly any damage done (I was already cold and wet).  And while I’m sure her advice was sound and I should keep it in mind for times that I’m alone, but I like the surprise (or anticipation) that comes from letting the ocean pummel me a bit.  I rarely feel more alive than when I’m being rocked to and fro by the rhythms of the water…

*I’m not necessarily prepping for a triathlon, but I am in the midst of setting some ambitious athletic goals and this morning’s swim was part of that process.

blues

I get blue sometimes.  And sometimes those feelings persist and worsen to the point that they verge on depression.

When that happens, I run through my list of four things and make sure that I’m doing each one–because I’ve found that these help so much with helping me to rebound from those blue periods.

1) Getting some time in the sun and fresh air.  If it’s rainy or wintry, I make sure that I’m using full-spectrum bulbs in my home so I can mimic the sunshine for a bit (and get that depression-fighting vitamin D flowing).

2) Eating well, especially limiting sugar and simple carbs.

3) Exercising.  This one is key for me.  For example, in the first few weeks after I split with my ex, I made sure that I exercised every single day–knowing that if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have the emotional strength to deal with all I was facing.  For me, weightlifting, paddling, swimming and racquetball (with my silly Remy rules) are particularly effective.

4) Spending time with friends.  When I’m in a blue period I’ll often make sure that everyday I have some time with a friend scheduled–a drink, a lunch, or a trip to the climbing wall together.

I’ve also got a few songs that help to lift my spirits, that are on an iTunes playlist called “Here Comes the Sun.”  Here’s one of them:

I also have a favorite soft blanket that I’ll wrap around me if I’m having a particularly tough time.  With some books of poetry nearby.

What do you do to fight the blues?

say yes…

Cherish your solitude. Take trains by yourself to places you have never been. Sleep out alone under the stars. Learn how to drive a stick shift. Go so far away that you stop being afraid of not coming back. Say no when you don’t want to do something. Say yes if your instincts are strong, even if everyone around you disagrees. Decide whether you want to be liked or admired. Decide if fitting in is more important than finding out what you’re doing here. Believe in kissing.
– Eve Ensler (h/t Jen Gray)


 Picture above taken in a German train station, after several hours of standing-room-only-jetlagged train riding.  Exhausting.  Worth it.

how long…

This past weekend was wonderful.  I got to spend time paddling, with friends, and getting caught up on home things (i.e. laundry and packing).  But mostly, I spent time with the kiddos.

We cooked all of our meals together (I’m giving them basic cooking lessons as a prep for their soon-to-be living on their own), watched movies, and just talked.  And talked.  We ate our meals on the back porch surrounded by the bird chatter (I loved that moment that GameBoy looked up into the trees and exclaimed “There are a lot of birds up there!”  And maybe finally understood why I like taking my morning coffee and afternoon tea out on the deck).

As the weekend came to an end we were up late talking once again and I told them what a wonderful time it had been.  I asked them if they noticed how different this weekend was from the other ones that we’ve had together the past few months.  And for a moment they thought about it but didn’t grasp what made this one so special.  Then I reminded them that it was our first weekend together since I’d graduated, and recounted just how stressful my weekends had been in my final push to finish writing my dissertation.

Then Catgirl asked, “Mom, how long has it been since you’ve been doing schoolwork on your weekends?”

“Ten years.”

(she was five then)

that things can happen…

“When in the end, the day came on which I was going away, I learned the strange learning that things can happen which we ourselves cannot possibly imagine, either beforehand, or at the time when they are taking place, or afterwards when we look back on them.” – Karen Blixen Out of Africa, 1937

I’ve had the thought lately that I shouldn’t speak about how satisfied I am with my life right now, because that will somehow jinx the goodness of things.  But on the other hand, it seems a shame not to acknowledge beauty and joy when they occur, or to keep too great a worry of “what ifs” in my mind that I can’t appreciate the present state of things.

So I will just say it.  Things are really good.  Unimaginably good.  And it’s hard for me to think of a time that I’ve been any happier than I am right now.  When I sit on my back porch in the mornings and reflect about the various comings-and-goings of people and events at chez Remy, I often feel as though this is just a happy bubble of a dream that turned into a life much more interesting and enjoyable than any I’d ever imagined for myself.  It’s a strange feeling, indeed.  But also very very good.

Right now my mind’s awhirl with memories as I’m packing for our move to a house that’s a few blocks away from where we live now.  As I do so I’m shedding even more weight from the past (things not used in over a year are being given away), and being intentional about the kind of home that I want… Simple.  Comfortable.  Clean.  Bright.  Warm.  Organized. Artful.  Roomy.  At the beginning of 2012 I expressed a wish to find a home that was truly home, and I’ve found that now.  Do you remember what I said?:

my biggest goal of 2012 is to find a home–not a rented temporary space like where I now live, but a place where I walk in the door at night and know just where I am. Where the kitchen is familiar, where morning light comes in the front window, where there’s a garden of flowers and herbs. In my imagination my home has plaster walls and creaky wood floors and a porch with a wicker chair.

This new house has all of the above–rich wood floors throughout the downstairs, a broad front porch with a swing(!) and plenty of room for a wicker chair, a backyard landscaped with native plants, more types of lavender than I could keep track of, and an ample kitchen herb garden as well as several fruit trees. And of course it has some rosebushes, too.

Perhaps it feels a bit superficial to be so excited about our new house–because I know it won’t necessarily make me any happier than I am now.  But at the same time, it’s also satisfying to see the simple desires that I expressed so clearly just a few months ago coming to fruition.  Perhaps the last piece of my life that’s felt unsettled since the divorce was the finding of a home-place.  And this is it.  And I think it’s about time.

why I stopped taking PPIs for gastric reflux

This post feels a bit like a PSA rather than a typical pilgrimsteps post.  But I wanted to share my experience with PPIs just in case it might be of help to some of you….

Last year I struggled to paddle because of severe back pain that was due to some problems with my prosthesis.  But it wasn’t just back pain, it was horrible painful muscle spasms that I had in my back, but also happened just about anywhere whenever I exercised vigorously.  My muscles just simply didn’t seem to be responding well to exercise–I was continuously fatigued and got cramps easily no matter what type of supplement I tried.

As a result, I quit paddling about halfway through last season.*

It wasn’t until a few months later that a lightbulb went on in my head as I talked with a friend about my chronic gastric reflux problems.  She told me that long-term use of over-the-counter PPIs did have long-term side effects (despite my thinking that they were nearly-benign meds) and that one of those was mineral loss.  I realized that the muscle cramping symptoms that I was experiencing were quite similar to the problems I’d had more than a decade previous when I was calcium deficient.  Given that I already have the double-whammy of bone density loss from being female and from having had high-dose chemotherapy, I started to become nervous about my dependence on PPIs to get me through dinnertime (it was almost always dinner that gave me problems–causing acid reflux for hours afterwards).

So…I stopped taking the PPIs cold-turkey and modified my diet as much as I could to compensate (such as no citrus or tomatoes and more yogurt).  Within a few weeks my acid reflux symptoms mostly disappeared–with only an occasional flare-up during stress.  And I found that I regained my muscle endurance fairly quickly after that.

I know that PPIs are necessary for many people and I’m not suggesting, necessarily, that you do what I did and stop taking them.  But I think it’s worth reading this recent article that warns of their side-effects, and to consider whether they are drugs that you really do need to be taking regularly.  In my case, I think the PPIs caused me to exercise less which exacerbated my reflux and led to weight gain (weight gain being one of the major contributors to reflux issues).  And I needed to get off the PPIs to I could become more active and healthy again.   My hope now is that the year I spent taking them won’t result in any long-term effect on my bone density.

*Additional motivation for quitting mid-season was due to some problems with my coach and the need to focus on my studies.  But the major reason was that I was in terrible pain each time I tried to paddle, I and I simply couldn’t figure out why my body was hurting so badly.