YEAR-END REVIEW - OUT OF THE STORM, A RAINBOW

I'm seeing all the year-end, and decade-end, retrospectives coming out this week. As a documentarian and a sentimentalist, I love that stuff.  It's why I keep decades worth of old journals, both handwritten and electronic, and bins and files of photographs and a file drawer of basically old documents from various groups I've been involved with and greeting cards I've received.  I love seeing all those things that were (and many that remain) important to me, that formed my life, and contributed to who I am today.  So, in that spirit, let's run through the old-school hand-noted Day Planner for 2019, as I did last year, and choose some highlights:

January:  Hard.  Hard conversations with Hub.  Home alone for two weeks while he was away on the first of three annual monthly winter snowboard trips.  Started yoga teacher training and wondered if I had what it takes to keep going.  Came home from my first intensive training weekend exhausted, overwhelmed, in tears, unsure.  2019 did not start out so great.

February:  Snowpacalypse!  Record-setting snowfall in the lowlands while I was home alone again for a week during yoga teacher training weekend.  Big anxiety about ongoing relationship issues, driving in the slippery snow up hills, and the challenges of the training resulted in massive multi-day migraines.  Still, the kindness of one of our Yoga instructors saved me and others with an offer to spend the weekend at her amazingly artistic and nurturing home instead of braving the elements and barely passable roadways.  I survived!  And felt a growing connection to my sister yoginis.  A community was forming, born of hardship.

March:  Hub's last snowboard trip and finally feeling settled and excited about the Yoga Teacher Training.  Learning so much!  Then off to our annual Kauai vacation, where depression and exhilaration danced together in an odd off-kilter jig.  At least it was warm.

April:  Another week of migraines and from the looks of my calendar, a too-busy month with something scheduled every day.  But the end of the month took us to the Southeast to see friends near Charleston, South Carolina (where we lived for two years on a barrier island) and to Savannah, Georgia to see family.  Fun trip full of memories of times past.

May:  Hub's total knee replacement and difficulties navigating the caregiver/patient dynamics.  Glad for modern medicine, amazing technology, and Hub's ahead-of-schedule and better-than-most progress, likely at least partially due to his "I'll do it myself" insistence on independence during recovery.  I had to learn not to hover.

June:  A Girls Getaway to the ocean beach with friends.  Days of talk, laughter, ritual-making, and important insights.  The respite I needed under sunny skies and starlit nights, embraced in loving friendship.

July:  Migraines, GI issues, sadness.  I felt lousy a lot of the time early in the month.  I worried something was majorly wrong with me.  (Relieved to find there wasn't).  The end of yoga teacher training came late in the month with a 5-day learning retreat in the North Cascade mountains before a big graduation celebration.   The close bond we'd formed as a group left us all amazed and grateful.  After spending 200 hours together over 6 months of intensive learning and practice, it was both a relief and a bit sad to say goodbye to the experience...and to each other.

August:  We were off to Minneapolis for Al Gore's Climate Reality Leadership Team training. Discovered an unexpected fondness for Minneapolis (in the summer!)  and had fun exploring the city when not in sessions in a freezing hotel ballroom.  The majority of the month was very, very, very difficult.  Hub was gone for bit on an annual camping trip and then home to lots of very hard conversations that shook me to the core.  I didn't know I was capable of rage, but I am and it was cleansing.  Big learning in hard times.  Life-changing, actually.  I know myself and my limits and boundaries and strength in ways unknown before.  The tremors I'd been feeling between us for, well, quite a long while, finally shook my foundation.  It was no fun.

September:  Rebuilding.  Hub was away again to a favorite camping site for several days, then home to more relationship work, big epiphanies, intentional recommitment and reason for hope.  Forty-seven years into our marriage and this felt like a new beginning; a second honeymoon.  Gratitude and Grace abound.  Also a family trip to my great-niece's wedding in Scottsdale and late in the month a perfect trip for Hub and me to NYC.  Did I mention honeymoon? 😉

October:  Hub left with an adventurer friend for 3 weeks in Nepal, on a trip planned for months, to sightsee and also to visit the two students whose educations we have been sponsoring for 5 years.  Big Adventure!  Instead listening to me whine about staying home alone, my friends invited me to join them in Maui for 10 days where I soaked up all the warmth, sun, and silky warm waters I could before returning to the 'wet months' in the Pacific Northwest.

November:  Hub got home mid-month and we shifted into a very low gear, reconnecting and resting up for the holidays to come.

December:  And here we are.  (I'd be remiss if I didn't mention that the current president was impeached and that was awesome, but of course, not the end of his reign, yet.)

This has been the most mellow holiday season I can ever recall.  Family, friends, our annual seaside getaway, a couple of holiday outings....and all of it felt manageable and easy. 

The absolute highlight was shopping together for a modest, understated, but very lovely diamond wedding band -- a tangible reminder of what we'd come through this year resulting in a recommitment to our long marriage, promising to go forward with renewed intention, honesty, love, respect, and care.  When I look down at my hand and see that sparkle, I feel blessed beyond words.

It wasn't the easiest year, but a necessary one.  Into 2020 I take a revitalized marriage, my devotion to family, my treasured friends, memories of, and plans for more travels, a deep and joyful spiritual practice, and a determination to right the upside-down world of our national political landscape.  Into 2020 I take happiness, contentment, and optimism, which is such an unexpected blessing that I feel like I've had a personality transplant.  Well, I'll take it.

At least, that's the view from here...©

POST-CHRISTMAS HEALTH CONTEMPLATION

I'm thinking a lot about health as this year ends.  It's been a challenging year in some ways and I was not at all well for many months of GI distress and migraines and general stress and anxiety and overwhelm due to that "little" (haha) relationship disruption I wrote about previously.  My therapist was rather alarmed at my lack of sleeping and eating, or leaving the couch. Sigh.  So, yeah, I wasn't taking very good care of myself there for awhile.

Now, being back on track emotionally gave me the space to take a look at my physical symptoms and decide to do something different, like sleep....

This morning, I was up by 5:00 a.m.  Again.  Still, my Fitbit tells me I had a FAIR night's sleep, likely marked down some by not hitting my 7 hour minimum sleep goal, but hitting all other benchmarks for the sleep cycles.  So many variables go into the calculation of the Fitbit "sleep score", which has become my barometer for knowing if I slept well or not, instead of trusting my body and the degree to which I feel rested. 

Lest you think I'm the only one Fitbit dependent, a friend of mine made an emergency doctor visit after a period of time in which her Fitbit did not give her any sleep score at all due to being unable to gather enough data while she was asleep.  She first, wisely (haha), bought a new Fitbit but when that didn't solve the problem she was off to the doctor to have her heart checked. They sent her home reassured, and we all had a stern talk with her Fitbit for playing naughty tricks on her...and learned that maybe these tracking devices are not infallible.  Go figure.

Anyway, my Fitbit also sends data to my Medicare Advantage Preventative Health plan which gives me "dollars" to spend on gift cards, as allocated by how many "active days" (based on steps taken) and exercise classes, etc I take with Silver Sneakers or on my own, as well as keeping up on preventative medical visits and tests.  This year I've earned $160 to spend on gift cards and mine will all go to the Amazon option.  This is a mere pittance of what I'd earn if they paid for ALL my classes. (They only allow you to "claim" 4 classes a year!  Ridiculous! I take that many in a week.)  But I'll enjoy a few freebies from Amazon, so that's some motivation, I guess.

In addition to sleeping better, I decided to eat better too.  After watching the documentary (on Netflix -- check it out) "Forks Over Knives",  I started in early November to eat a mostly plant-based diet.  No land or air meat at all.  Maybe every 10 days or so some prawns.  (Holding out on a decision on salmon next year when it's back in season.)  For a few weeks I was vegan and ate no dairy and no eggs, but I've eased up on being that restrictive.  I eat those infrequently, but without hesitation.  And guess what?  I feel so much better!  I know it could be the relieved stress helping my symptoms, but I just feel so much better overall I can hardly believe it.   I'm sticking with it.

The biggest hurdle this holiday season, as every year, is my descent into sugar addiction.  I swore it would not happen this year, given my new healthful eating plan.  But it did.  Cake, cookies, brownies, pastries, candy, ice cream, mochas, eggnog lattes...oh my.  These are my drugs of choice.  I am powerless.

So yesterday, in a fit of disgust, I Googled "giving up sugar".  There are hundreds of "hits" for articles, books, documentaries, essays, ads....  I settled on two guides to start with:  "Beating Sugar Addiction for Dummies" (cuz I find those "dummy" books about complex subjects to be very readable, so I guess I'm the target "dummy" audience) and "Year of No Sugar" by Eve O Schaub, whose memoir writing is so funny and down-to-earth true; I love her.  This one is about how her whole family spent a year not eating any added fructose in anything!  I don't know if I can go that far, but what I've read about the way sugar ravages our bodies makes me want to purge 69 years of sugar consumption and get on the stump with a megaphone.  I'm going to start with just eliminating anything I know to be purposely sweet -- the aforementioned cakes, cookies, sugar drinks, etc.  -- and not worry too much yet about what sugar there is in my Dave's thin-sliced multi-grain bread.  I will leave off the jam though.

Like any good resolution-maker, I'm starting in earnest on January 1.  This will be VERY challenging for me.  Society uses sugar in so many ways that have nothing to do with nutrition (of which there is none) -- it's used to say "I love you"; "Let's celebrate"; "Feel better", etc etc.  Sugar is everywhere -- not just the hidden kind (read the labels!) but the obvious kind too.  There are whole cookie aisles! Whole bakeries within the supermarket!  I know!  I love them!!!

I am heartened, however, to realize I've already given up cigarettes (1982, but with a very occasional, like on average less than once/year "cheat", until 2011), alcohol (2011), red meat (sometime over the past 15 years; not sure when exactly), and the rest of the land/air animal flesh 6 weeks ago (OK, two chicken cheats) and now I miss none of it and don't feel weird or socially out of place (most of the time) with my choices.  So I hold out hope for this to be difficult for awhile (2 weeks is the typical 'withdrawal/craving' timeframe for sugar addiction) and then, hopefully, easy. (Easier.)

If you've gone before me on this sugarless path, send suggestions for not gnawing my fingers off.  I can't help but assume there is some trace fructose in my new Lemon-Rosemary Balm hand lotion and it will sound awfully good in a few days...I can see myself licking my paws like a cat, can't you?

At least, that's the view from here...©

PS:  I just checked my Dave's bread:  2 grams sugar per slice in the form of organic fruit juices to supply the "sweet".  Ms. Schaub would have eliminated this from her diet.  I'm not gonna.  Yet.  I get into trouble and have zero long-term follow-through when I go all or nothing on things like this.  Baby steps.

Photo Credit:  www.pixabay.com

HOLIDAY PEACE

Something strange is happening to me.  I am 11 days into December and I am still feeling the Christmas spirit.

Usually I peak too early; like around November 30 to about December 5 I'm full of anticipation and love the fa-la-la-la-la-ing of it all.  I get the tree up and house decorated in that time frame.  I listen to a few Christmas CDs.  Then as the holiday grows closer, my Grinch becomes activated and by the 25th I'm well and done with the whole thing.  I know, this is only the 11th, so I have a ways to go, but today I feel calm and bright.  I'm still looking forward to the activities and events and gatherings instead of dreading them with the wish it would all be over.

December is super jam-packed each year since I also have a birthday, as do my son and one of my best friends.  It makes for lots of extra celebrating.   The big group of our friends who gather monthly have a Christmas party.  Throw in the annual December trip to a nearby waterfront town Hub and I take to celebrate my BD and we are away for 3 days in the midst of everything else.  The family get-togethers increase due to those birthdays, as well as extra grandkid childcare so mom and dad can do Santa shopping, and our traditional family Christmas Eve and Christmas Day gathering.  It can feel like a whirlwind.  This year it feels like fun.  Is this how normal people have always done December?

I think being retired has helped calm the storm.  Not having to work, not having office parties, not buying extra gifts for co-workers, etc. is a relief.  Our family now exchanges names instead of buying gifts for each person (except the grandkids, of course) and that eases the shopping burden.  Hub and I never exchange gifts, feeling we have enough and those solar panels on the roof this year are gift enough.

And we are selective about what special holiday activities we do.  Last week we went to dinner and a musical performance "A Celtic Christmas" with friends.  Next week we will do the annual Luminary River Walk (lighted luminaries along the riverfront trail -- a festive community event).   Our trip will be restful and fun, as always.  That's about it this year, even though I've seen dozens more cool-sounding holiday performances and activities that we could do.  I've learned that piling one outing atop the other in an overabundance of "joy" just makes me tired and cranky.

Maybe the key to finding holiday peace is to scale it all way back and find that peace not in the doing but in the being.  This year has been a time of deep reflection, a lot of grief, a lot of joy, learning, growing, finding unexpected connection, and growing community among family and friends.  I'm grateful for all of that and that's what I'll focus on this season.  It's what I should have focused on all along.

At least, that's the view from here...©

WITH AGE...

In my mid-late 40's, I think, I was first diagnosed with "borderline" high blood pressure.  I was shocked.  I went on meds, was advised to lose weight, and exercise more, de-stress.  The usual.  When asking why my BP was suddenly a problem, I was told for the first time, "Well, with age...."

This phrase has prefaced so many medical discussions over the ensuing 20 or so years, I've come to anticipate it.

Cholesterol:  "Well, with age...."
Keratosis:  "Well, with age..."
Osteopenia:  "Well, with age...."
Weight settling around the mid-region:  "Well, with age..."
Knees aching on occasion:  "Well, with age...."
Dry skin, age spots, dull complexion, wrinkles:  "Well, with age...."
Interrupted sleep/waking early: "Well, with age...."
Blurred vision/cataracts:  "Well, with age...."
Hearing impairment: "Well, with age...."

You probably have a list too.

As 2019 comes to a close,  I feel like it's a full time job to keep my body going.  There are only so many hours in the day to do all I want/need to do, and physical care is taking up more and more of my time.  Age is only a number, but well, with age....the only way to manipulate that number is to attend to age-related changes in our physical health.

I do not believe in using age as an excuse -- we have a lot of control over how we age by attending to what we can to mitigate some of the limiting aspects of age and health.  But age is an explanation for why I'm suddenly at the clinic for things that weren't an issue a few years ago.

I had my annual physical in October and went on a higher dose statin for cholesterol and have to do home BP checks to see if my BP meds are keeping that under control....borderline for increasing the doseage.  I've lost weight and get more exercise than in my 40's but, well, with age...

A couple of weeks ago I had my annual dermatology visit for a full body check. I've had a couple of basal cell carcinoma thingies removed and one squamous cell spot, so I'm a candidate for constantly checking the vast expanse of northern European/Scandinavian white skin that I foolishly thought would "tan" in my 20's and 30's.  The minimal tan and maximal sunburns of those years have now come back to haunt me.  Once again I'll be applying topical chemical therapies to my hands and a couple spots on my face to keep the damaged cells there from freaking out and becoming something ominous.  This will be my third round of such treatment.  We also talked about a better skin care regimen for my face. (I'm notoriously lax in that area -- wash, slap on some drugstore moisturizer, call it good.)

This fall I had two cataract surgeries.  I am so incredibly amazed and delighted to be able to see clearly again, even at night, even when driving in the rain!  I had curtailed my nighttime driving to basically emergencies only and it was very limiting.  Now I am confident that on the off chance I have an evening activity (Well, with age... I actually prefer to be home most nights) I can see where I'm going and not be a danger to myself or others.  I hope this miracle lasts, even with advancing age.

Last week I also went in for my first-ever hearing test.  I have tinnitus (that annoying ringing in the ears) and had also noticed I can't hear a thing in noisy restaurants with all the echoing, clanging, music, etc in the background.  I also noticed I used to be able to hear my husband talking to me from a couple rooms away, but now it's just a mumbling muddle.  I was told both of these scenarios are very common, so I was reassured.

Then I had the tests.  I now have a new "with age..." diagnosis:  mild to moderate hearing loss.  This is mostly in the very upper registers of tone.  (I think they were employing a dog whistle and admonishing me for not hearing it.  I am not a Poodle!)  Not time for hearing aides, but something to re-test in a year.  Sheesh!

In the meantime, I'm to adjust my environment by avoiding those noisy restaurants, which I mostly do anyway; by talking to my "communication partners" about talking to me face to face; by using hearing protection any time I am around noise that is loud and repetitive for any length of time:  concerts, sporting events, generators, lawn equipment like hedge trimmers, lawnmowers, power washers, etc, even hairdryers, and blenders in the kitchen.  I've ordered the type of ear plugs musicians use that fit inside the ear and reduce decibels without reducing the ability to hear what one wants to hear.

What I'm noticing is that humility comes "with age..." as well.  I used to be so impatient with my mom about all the doctor visits, diagnoses, limitations, and adaptations.  My arrogance was such that there were times when I felt she just wasn't trying hard enough.  OMG!  As she started to age, maybe mentioning the changes she saw in her 50s and onward, that woman ate well, went for daily walks, did Yoga Sun Salutation every morning, strength trained with exercise bands, had annual physicals, took all her meds, did not drink or smoke, quit driving when she started to feel insecure behind the wheel, wore hearing aides and glasses....she did all she could and still ended up with vascular dementia in her later years and died a month shy of 88 of stroke, so at a certain point something will get ya.

But now she is my role model for taking responsibility for my physical body for as long as I have it.  No one gets out alive, but how we age can often be within our control.  It takes commitment, diligence, and an inordinate amount of time.  I'm looking at my calendar and figuring out how I can fit in my yoga practice, classes at the new YMCA, and walks in the 'hood into my already sort of jammed social and "work" (meetings, household duties, childcare dates, writing, etc.) schedule.  More and more time goes to the body, leaving less for other activities.  I also suspect I can be more efficient with my time and probably find a new schedule that doesn't feel like I'm sacrificing for my health.

With age one is better able to discern what is truly important (maybe not scrolling Facebook) and how best to live in health -- with acceptance, adaptation, grace, and humility.

At least, that's the view from here...©