“When it rains it pours.”

I think most of us have had the occasion to mutter that phrase every once in a while.

Sometimes it is one tragedy after another. Sometimes, its just the strain of regular life that has a way of catching up with you.

Kind of like trying to plan a Bar Mitzvah (after being in denial about the upcoming event for months), having your daughter come down with chicken pox…

and then having your husband end up with a cast on his dominant hand.

Yesterday, when I was having a moment of self pity (even though I was not the one itching or wearing a cast) it occurred to me that the challenges in life and the way you handle them are what end up defining you and your life.

As a nurse working in oncology, day in and day out I see the tremendous power of challenges and how they can make or break you. One thing I know for certain is that the greater the challenges you face, the greater the potential for growth.

And as I was watching the pouring rain hit the ground yesterday, I realized that life’s challenges are akin to rain.

Rain can be a pain in the neck, at times depressing and it can even cause a lot of damage. But without rain, we would have no water. The water that is needed for growth and nourishment.

Challenges cause us to reevaluate things, to think things through and to find new ways to cope, change and be inspired. Challenges are an impetus for growth.

And as the rain drops continued to fall, I stopped feeling sorry for myself because I remembered that things that seem bad or annoying are sometimes gifts in disguise.

So next time it rains, I will do my best to remind myself that rain is needed for growth.

How do you cope with life’s challenges?

It’s hard to let go of things.

I am sitting here an hour or so before the end of 2011.

I have no plans and like most years, I am not even sure I will still be awake at midnight. Maybe New Years is not such a big deal for me because in Judaism we celebrate the new year in September on Rosh Hashana. Or maybe it’s because I find that the Jewish new year and the secular new year conjure up different yearnings and emotions in me.

For me, the Jewish New Year is about repentance. It is about taking a good hard look at what you have done and how you are living and thinking about what is good and what needs to change.

For some that might be similar to what the secular new year means to them. For me the secular new year is about more external things. It’s about making resolutions. Be it to lose weight, to spend more time with my kids or husband, to take career steps or a myriad of other possibilities. I find all these resolutions somewhat tiring because they feel at least partially driven by external motivations and opinions.

About a year ago as part as my coaching class curriculum I underwent life coaching. One of the things that “came up” at the time was that I was doing so many things simultaneously and that I really needed to let go of something. I had two jobs that I loved for different reasons, I was writing, I was in school and I had a bunch of other things going on in my life.

I couldn’t find it in myself to let go or give up any of those things. Because letting go is something that’s hard to do.

What I have learned this past year is that of you don’t let some things go, you will burn out and let everything go. Even things that are important to you.

I have let the inertia of life make the decisions instead of being an active participant in the process.  Things that I love to do like writing, have fallen by the wayside because I have not made them a priority.

So I find myself here on the brink of a new year with a heart full of wants and resolutions. And I am resisting. Because letting go is hard.

What are you having a hard time letting go of?

Fear.

Try as we may to repress it, it has a way of surfacing.

For some, fear is a constant companion. For others, an occasional visitor.

Sometimes we don’t really know what we’re afraid of. We think it’s one thing but in truth the “real” fear is hidden under layers of repression and denial.

On the other hand, there are times when we know exactly what we fear but we’re too afraid to voice it, too afraid to give it a name.

It’s been a tough month emotionally. I have yet another patient who is dying. I have watched her weaken and change over the past year and it’s been hard. She doesn’t have all that long left here on this earth, according to the doctors a few months at the most.

Today she was hospitalized for an electrolyte imbalance and she was unprepared for it. She was scared and all she wanted to know was when will she go home. At one point she looked at me and asked me whether she was going to get to go home. Home to her new house that she just moved into last week.

I knew what she was talking about but chose to get her to say the words out loud.

You’re scared. What are you afraid of?

That I won’t leave the hospital. Am I going to leave the hospital?

What are you really afraid of? What are you really asking me?

Am I going to leave the hospital?

What are you really asking me?

In a rushed loud breath she said: “Am I going to die in the next 72 hours?” And I exhaled and gave her a big hug as she sobbed away.

But it wasn’t done. Because while dying was something she was afraid of and worried about, the truth was buried a little deeper. And it took quite a bit of digging to get to it.

She was afraid of the unknown and she was afraid of having to say good bye.  I think that everyone in the world is afraid of the unknown.  We’re so trained in thinking things through and needing hard evidence that even when we’re dying we can’t let go. We’re afraid of the unknown because we don’t know for certain what will be and that causes us unease.

And besides, saying good-bye is heartbreaking even when you are not dying. When someone we love goes away for a period of time and even when we know they’re going to come back we are sometimes overcome with grief. Imagine having to say goodbye for good. (I will leave my beliefs about souls & afterlife out of this post.)

So why should you name your fear?

I think that putting a name to your fear helps you understand what’s feeding your fear.

I also think that once you’ve put a name to it, it makes it easier for you to talk about it with others. That’s important because when you are afraid of something that’s exactly the time that you need the love, support and insight from people you love and trust.

How do you know you’re afraid of something?

Aside from the really obvious scary things that make your heart pound a million beats a minute, I believe that fear is a factor any time you find yourself making excuses not to do something or avoiding something. Anytime you have a dream, but are afraid to jump into it.

What am I afraid of? 

You mean aside from heights and jumping dogs? I’m not 100% sure. (Maybe because I am avoiding too many things right now.) I’m trying hard to peel off the layers to get to the core. I think that’s half the battle, to actually name your fear. I’m trying.

The sooner I figure it out, the better. Because like all feelings, fear is not something you want to repress. You want to confront it head on because only then can you accept it and work through it.

What fears do you have?

We live in a fast paced world.

Our senses are constantly and continuously being bomabarded by information and demands.
We have grown accustomed to doing too many things and as fast as possible.

I don’t know about anyone else, but on most days, from the moment I wake up and put my feet on the ground I have the feeling that I’m in a race. A race to get everything I want (or feel I should do) done. Even if my body is groggy and appearing to move in slow motion, my mind is whirling at 100 miles an hour.

“Hit the ground running” is a phrase that is generally meant as a compliment, especially in the work force. And I think that tells a lot about the things we, as a society, find admirable. We admire people who are fast and ready to fit in and get moving.

What I felt this morning was that maybe the right way to start the day is the quite the opposite of what I have been doing. Not to hit the ground running. To take a few minutes to breathe and feel gratitude about all I have. To remember to start the day thinking about what is truly important and letting expectations of myself, of others just drift away.

What do you think?

Coincidences Are No Coincidence

For a long time I have strongly believed that there is order in what appears to be a lot of randomness in our life. I believe that things and people come into our lives for a reason.

And I think that even the skeptics out there will at least admit that there is something we can learn from every person and every thing that happens to us. The people we meet and the experiences we have are what shape us into who we are.

Every person we meet has a gift for us.

And we have a gift for every person we meet.

Whether or not you believe in coincidences, you can still choose to believe that each person in our lives has a gift for us, enriches us and teaches us about ourselves.

And we have that same gift to give others. Sometimes our gift is given positively, sometimes negatively. Yet it is nonetheless a gift. Our behaviors and interactions are offered out to the people in our lives so that we can all learn and grow and evolve.

Each person in our life is a unique gift.

A young patient of mine passed on the other day. She left behind an amazingly supportive family including her husband and her aunt who I was lucky to have met. And she left behind three young children. 

And in her life, as in her death she had gifts of personal insight for me. She taught me about strength, about openness, about love, about relationships and about courage.

And in her death she taught me that you don’t always get a second chance.

I had been thinking about her the past few weeks because she was on oral chemotherapy at home and she wasn’t coming into the clinic. I wanted to know how she was doing and what was going on with her but I had lost her number.

So I didn’t call.

And then I got a call from her aunt. And I knew it was too late.

And I was sad for her family’s loss and I was sad for me.

Because while in life we had expressed our thanks and appreciation for each other, I missed out on a chance for closure.

I know she knew that I felt privileged to be able to care for her and even more privileged that she opened up her heart and chose to share her thoughts, feelings and experience with me. I know she knew that I learned a lot from her.

And I know how much she appreciated me for the gift of empathy and caring I was privileged to give her. I know because we spoke about it and a few months ago she sent me a lovely heartfelt card with beautiful flowers.

And even so, I didn’t act on what my heart was telling me. I didn’t call her when I thought about her.

I waited. And now it’s too late.

I know she is at peace now. She left this earth surrounded by her loved ones in the incubator of her own home.

And her last gift to me is a reminder not to wait.

We don’t always get a second chance.

So what gifts are you going to give the people in your life today? And what gifts are you going to receive?

So now that jet-lag seems to be loosening its death grip on me and my brain fuzz is clearing a bit, I can write a little bit about my two week trip (all on my own) to the states. Though I’ll give you fair warning and tell you that you are going to have to go through a long winded detour to get to the point of this post which will probably be at the end.

I am not a happy flier. Most of the time I am not a pathetically nervous flier. I just don’t enjoy the flights very much.

**Long winded story detour alert ahead.**

Some of my flight trauma can probably be traced back to a flight I took about 18 or so years ago with my hubby and two little kids. When the plane was over the Atlantic you know, over the ocean, no land, nothing in site…, the steward asked if there was a doctor on board. When no one came forth, I told him I was a nurse and I asked if I could help.

He took me towards the front of the plane. I prepared myself mentally and said to myself, okay, someone in business class is having a heart attack or something. But no. The steward continued walking and headed up the stairs. Okay, I thought to myself. Someone in first class is having a heart attack or something. But NO! The steward continued to the front of the plane and opened the freaking door to the cockpit. The pilot was not feeling too good. Let’s just say that it’s a good thing my bladder control was a lot better back then.

For crying out loud. No person whose feet like to be planted firmly grounded on the ground should ever have to hear those words. As a matter of fact, no person whose feet like to be firmly planted on the ground should ever have to see with their own eyes that the pilots can’t see anything but clouds out of their window. I know (rationally) that planes fly with radar, but I really did not need to be shown that.

Anyways, back to the pilot. He felt like he was running a fever.

Lucky for him I was traveling with two little kids. So I went back down to my seat and came back up to the cockpit clutching a pouch filled with all kinds of stuff including a thermometer. Lucky for the pilot it was a never used rectal thermometer. Really, honestly. It was brand new.

So in case you were wondering, the pilot had a fever. I gave him two acetaminophen (Tylenol) and he took them. Too bad it was only after he took them that he thought to ask the steward (in French) whether the pills I gave him would make him drowsy. I felt like yelling : GOOD MORNING! Don’t you think you should have checked before you swallowed them??!@#*^!  I didn’t. Instead I hurried back down to my seat, buckled myself in and held on for the rest of the flight.

So, yes. I have been traumatized. I have a reason to be a nervous wreck flier.

**End of long winded story detour.**

So back to the here and now.

My husband is the too frequent flier in our family. Unlike me, he doesn’t feel the need to show up at the airport hours and hours in advance. Unlike me, he can actually fall asleep on planes. Unlike me, he doesn’t give a second thought to the creaking plane sounds. (You know the ones that make the plane sound like it is falling apart.) Unlike me, he doesn’t do online check-in and by mistake declare that he is carrying hazardous materials in his suitcase.

And unlike me he doesn’t embarrass himself at every possible turn.

Like I did on my flight from Las Vegas to Seattle. I boarded the plane and made my way back to my seat. I got to my seat, 26D, and someone was sitting in it. Lucky for me I was polite when I asked him if he was sitting in the right seat. He asked to see my boarding pass. He then very kindly pointed out to me that my seat was 20D not 26D which was our boarding gate.

Oh the shame when the stewardess had to have everyone in the aisle move backwards so that I could make my way back to my seat. I think my face was the shade of a tomato.

And as I sat down and tried to hide my face, all I thought was that my husband would never had made that amateur mistake. After all the miles he has logged, flying is second nature to him.

And the same is true for most things in life. The more you do something, the more you are used to doing something, the less mistakes you make doing it.

What things have you gotten more proficient at by doing them more?

And more importantly, what embarrassing mistakes have you made?

Go on, make me feel less incompetent better. Please.

Or maybe I should have just listened to the sign in Vegas and kept my embarrassment to myself.

Nah. I like making people laugh. Even if it’s at me.

Do your job with love.

(Or at least the best that you can.)

For most some of us that can be a tough order. At one point or another (or at many points or another) most of us have complained about our jobs. And often when we are unsatisfied with our jobs, we don’t do them to the fullest of our abilities and our enthusiasm.

And that’s a mistake.

Why? Because even in the most horrible job you can imagine, you have the chance to connect with people, make people smile and help them. In short you have the ability to make some kind of difference to people during the course of their day.

And I believe that simple gestures of goodwill or even a smile, are like ripples in the water of the world. The way you treat one person can affect the way they treat others they meet during the course of the day. Would you rather be the reason for frowns or for smiles?

Penelope Trunk wrote a very interesting post about making your work more meaningful.  The whole post had a lot of food for thought and I especially liked her fourth point which was you need to make your work meaningful. How you do your job and how you relate to the people you come into contact with each day is what makes your life meaningful.

And it’s your choice.

 
You can decide to mope or frown and behave like life is unfair and you have the suckiest job in the world. Or you can choose to do your best at your job and make a difference to one person at a time.

Look at it from another point of view. Would you rather be helped in a store or office by someone with a lousy attitude or by someone who is pleasant and smiles at you? Rhetorical question duh. We want the pleasant person.
 
Like this guy who helped me at the amazing road runner store in Seattle.

So why do we sometimes forget that we are the ones who serve up the lousy attitude to others?
 

My inspiration for this post was the guy in the video below whom I spotted on the street corner of a small town in the greater Seattle area while visiting my sister. He made me smile, laugh and remember that no matter what job you have, you can do it with enthusiasm.

Fast Tube by Casper

And isn’t a job better than this situation? (Also spotted in the Seattle area.)

So how do you do your job?

Some days all we see is what is right in front of our eyes. We get weighed down with life and things that are happening to us and around us.

And we can’t see the bigger picture. Because we see things from close up.

The other day on my flight from Las Vegas to Seattle I realized something. (Something that I should have known and probably did but seeing it helped me internalize it.) When I left Vegas it was sunny, when I landed in Seattle it was overcast and rainy. As we were beginning our descent into SeaTac airport we were high above the clouds and it was sunny. The lower we got, the worse the weather got and then the sunshine disappeared.

And I realized that what I was seeing was not only a phenomenon of nature but also a metaphor for life’s difficulties.

When we are worried about things or caught up in the difficulties in our day to day life, we see things in micro. We see the things in front of our eyes but we often don’t really see the “big picture”. When we step back from a situation and try to gain some perspective or a bird’s eye view, we see things differently.

Things look very different from a distance.

Can you see my nephew hidden there?

I know that stepping back and trying to see the bigger picture helps me put things into perspective.

Does it help you?

I am jet lagged.

Even though my sister & brother in law’s guest bed is more comfortable than my bed at home, it hasn’t helped much. I am really jet lagged.

And tired.

On the best of days I can be scatter brained. (Yes that is a scary thought seeing as I am nurse…) When I am sleep deprived, all bets are off.

So it was probably pretty stupid to attempt an online check-in last night for my flight from Vegas to Seattle this morning. And might I add, it was only about 9pm but my brain was a bit fuzzy.

I typed in my info and went through the check-in.   I was ready to print out my boarding pass and the freaking thing says that my reservation requires agent assistance. Arrggggghhh.

It would appear that in my haste haze I must have checked off that I was carrying hazardous materials in my suitcase. I think I thought I was checking no I did not have when in hindsight, I think I was not supposed to check anything. (And to my frequent flier hubby who laughed and said it served me right because he told me not to bother with online check, I think I was too tired when you told me that and it apparently did not penetrate the fog in my brain.)

A call to the airline didn’t help, especially when they chuckled at me too and told me I need to see a supervisor at the airport.

In any event, I am still alive. Boarding is starting now. I am still tired.

Hopefully in the future I will remember to sleep before doing things requiring concentration.

What mess ups have you made because of tiredness/exhaustion?

P.S. Thanks to my sis and brother in law and their 3 gorgeous kids for their hospitality and for letting me rearrange their house.

 I am blessed.

Really, I am. And I have known that for ages. I also have a way, like many, of taking my blessings for granted. I have a way of not always clearly seeing things right under my nose.

So why did the fact that I am blessed hit me today once again like a ton of bricks? Well it was the television’s fault of course.

Wait, wait. Don’t judge me before you hear the whole story. One of the problems with having an often traveling husband is that at times, I develop a bit of insomnia. The most recent bout might or might not have anything to do with a rash of burglaries in the neighborhood. So, like any insomniac, I sometimes find myself glued to the TV and watching one show after another.

And as the television Gods fate would have it, my channel surfing tonight stopped not once, but twice at shows that helped highlight for me why it is I am blessed.

As if it’s not enough that I work in oncology and am surrounded by people and their individual stories, I happened across a documentary called something like “I have no time for this.” It followed five young women diagnosed with breast cancer. The women allowed us a glimpse into their lives, their joys and their fears. Their courage shined through, especially the two women who knew they were dying and continued to live their lives and cherish every moment.

And I cried a bit and I thought of the women I take care of who have breast cancer. Some young (actually way too many), some old. Some doing great and on the road to recovery, some slowly fading. Some optimistic, some pessimistic. Some in denial and some fearful. All of them, going through things that no one who hasn’t gone through a bout with cancer can really comprehend.

And I thought about my day and how physically and emotionally hard work has been the past few weeks. There have been the holidays and a new work method we have implemented that has been very hard for me to adjust to. And in one moment I suddenly realized remembered that my problems are just that, problems. Minor or intermediate inconveniences.

My problems are things that I have the power to change should I choose to.

And I reminded myself how I was blessed to be on the side of the bed taking care of someone and not to have to be taken care of.

But that was not enough. Apparently, I needed a bigger kick in the pants than just that lesson.

The next show I watched was extreme makeover. This makeover episode was about a women who despite a rough childhood, hard  life and being wheelchair bound, was all about helping the children in her poor community and providing them with love and food and whatever help she could give them.

The makeover team not only redid her house to include a whole community center for the neighborhood kids, they also redid the bedrooms of a number of children living in the neighborhood, children living in horrible conditions.

Seeing how little these people had and the conditions they lived in made me once again realize how little it really takes to be content and happy. It is not about things.

The woman who gave all that love to the neighborhood children was someone who lived in conditions that would have made any normal person give up. She didn’t. She felt blessed and wanted to help bless others by helping them in any way she could.

For me, tonight’s lesson was remembering that feeling blessed is a state of mind.

It is a state of mind that I want to learn and live by. It’s a state of mind I want to practice more and not just “know it” in my head. I want to feel it.

I know I am blessed. Now I have to live my life like I truly believe it.

What makes you feel blessed?