Quieting...

Some days the world is too loud, too harsh, too much.

When you see the ones you love being battered by situations that have to run their course a first instinct is to look for a way to help, to ease their burden until the storm passes.

In those seasons a sense of needing to fix everything so a loved one can gain some relief, find a little breathing space or just simply sleep, sits oh so heavy on the mind and on the heart - even when you're weary and worn down yourself. 

But you push through, soldier on, try harder to do 'one more thing' as an act of love for the ones you cherish.

Then you wake up one morning, fall in a heap, and as you try to drag yourself from mattress to floor a truth slowly becomes clear and common sense speaks louder than it has in a while and says...

"You are not all things to all people and there really is no Wonder Woman cape in your closet. Nor is there a magic wand, an overflowing bank balance, or a potion of strength."

That was me this week. 

When I'm up, I'm UP. 

Adrenaline loaded I can 'almost' leap a tall bottle of San Pellegrino mineral water in a single bound. 

For days, sometimes a week or two, my life is full to overflowing with tasks and travels and 'all hands on deck' as I attend to everything that needs doing at home and for those I love. 

Being helpful is important to me. Being a burden is not.

But when all my adrenaline is expended, as it always does when I am not mindful to conserve energy, depression comes knocking, migraines return, and every part of my body aches and groans until just walking from one end of the house to the other becomes a trial.

I've had this adrenaline issue all my life, but for the past three years since my brain trauma injury it's become a lot harder to manage because I neglect the obvious - I'm older, have a new health issue and cannot do as much as I once did. 

Yet, stubbornly neglecting the obvious, I power on without thought to what the end result will be - an inability to function normally until I am well rested and my body can recover. 

So I'm not Wonder Woman.

But gosh I'd love her waist, and her energy.

Very humbling admitting this to you, but this is my real life. 

It's not all roses and jam and fresh bread and stitching. Sometimes its a day or two in my pajamas with a pot of tea, a few Monte Carlo biscuits to dunk in my cup, and a string of old movies. It's cheese and vegemite on toast for dinner (my beloved's favourite take-it-easy-tonight meal) or maybe a home delivered pizza. It can be weeks of walking in the valley alone while all the time smiling on the outside so as not to worry those around me.

When life unravels at my feet, or this brain injury reminds me there are limitations to how far I can push the boundaries, it's right on God's doorstep I seat myself, curled up and forlorn, knowing only in His arms will I be comforted and given the grace I need to stop everything for a time and trust my loved ones are being cared for by Someone far more able than I. 

And that's humbling too.

You and I, we can't be all things to all people. We can't save the world, and though we can help with some, we'll never be able to fix all the problems our loved ones face. 

I don't know if you go into rescue mode like I do, and I'm not sure if you push yourself beyond the limits of health, strength or ability...but if you do, are you pushing too hard??

I am. And I think I do some of it because I need to be needed or to feel useful, while at the same time feeling overwhelmed when too many are needing me at once. 

I am so BLESSED in this life. Blessed in ways others may not consider a blessing, yet blessed because in every difficult circumstance, and in every opportunity to rejoice, Jesus walks beside me as my trusted Friend and Saviour. 

And it's because Jesus loves me so very deeply that this time, in this season of utter weariness, He's not letting me hide from the reasons I've found myself once again in a dark valley, nor will He let me ignore His counsel. I have to be realistic, accept who I am and the limitations life has set upon me without guilt, frustration or a pity party, and just do the best I can within those boundaries - joyfully.

I guess it comes down to asking God in prayer, "what can I do for this precious person?" before running ahead to do what I believe should be done. It also means not imaging myself as a rescuer, but turning to He who really is our Deliverer and trusting Him completely, whether He directs me to hold back or run forth. 

When I was young I thought anyone aged 59 was really old.

Yet here I am at 59 and God can make me feel like a child because there's still so much I'm learning, still so much to refine in my character...yes, in His eyes I am a child, a very loved child, just like you. 

So this is why I'm a bit quiet right now, why I'm not pushing myself to do or to be.

Like I said before, I'm so very blessed, and as I'm making my way out of the valley and into the sunshine again there's a confidence I won't see as much of that valley as in the past because a lesson has been sorely learned this week, a lesson about being content as Jenny and not wishing to be Wonder Woman.

hugs

Self care...

When I woke at 6 am this morning it was to begin the daily ritual of packing lunch for my husband to take to work, washing vegetables and making fresh juice, feeding the animals, preparing our breakfast, showering, dressing, and setting the table so we could enjoy our first meal of the day together before going our separate ways.

All of this takes 90 minutes, and once my beloved has driven off in his Jeep I usually brew a coffee and spend time with my Bible and in prayer before putting the washing on, clearing our dishes and attending to overnight business emails. 

Then it's time to write my to-do list, text my daughters with a morning greeting, and make the bed. From there the day rarely slows but progresses forward with Elefantz work and home duties until around 7pm.

But this morning something different happened.

As I cleared the breakfast dishes I looked around the kitchen and before I could stem the tide an endless list of necessary household chores scrolled through my mind and went on, and on, and on  until I silently shouted "stop!".

 An overwhelming sense of panic took hold of my heart and I wondered how on earth I could catch up on so much when I had designs that needed to be drawn, traced and stitched, and business commitments yet to be met. I'd fallen badly behind in everything recently due to extra family responsibilities that took me away from home many hours on most days.

Hiding my panic, I kissed Mr E goodbye as he left for work and sat down to assess life as it stands right now.

I breathed, deep breaths, and actually allowed myself to 'feel' the weariness which has come to visit me each and every day these past couple of months. I didn't brew coffee, didn't read my Bible, ignored the dishes and the washing and the emails and even the morning greeting texts to my girls. I simply sat still and let my body speak to me.

Wiping all else from my mind I couldn't ignore the burning and tenderness in my osteo-arthritic fingers,  the discomfort of very dry feet which was worse than usual, the cracking flesh of my heels and the aching ankles from too many hours standing and walking on hardwood floors, legs that were well past needing to be shaved, and hair that was in dire need of a wash. 

And that's when I realised I needed more than the sleep we enjoyed during our two days away. 

I needed to acknowledge some essential self care, time devoted to looking after my body and attending to it's needs.

I know there's a whole lot of women who see pampering themselves as a life essential, but most women, ordinary everyday gals like us,  can easily forget that we need to look after ourselves just as much as we care for our loved ones, homes and other unique responsibilites.

So this morning I decided the house could wait, the business could wait, and I could talk to God about the things that were really needful today while I indulged in some self care.

I began by washing my hair, shaving my legs and massaging my feet with lovely rich lavender infused cream. Then it was time for a pedicure and some pretty mauve toenail varnish...

I brewed a pot of favourite tea...

...lit a candle, served a couple of special biscuits we keep for guests on a tiny green glass dish, opened a wonderful book which is helping my need to simplify...

 ... and poured the tea into my favourite English cup.
Then I promptly forgot about everything else and lost myself in this precious moment of solitude and calm.

Some personal care, an hour of drinking tea, reading and pondering in the quiet relaxed atmosphere, the gentle flickering of my vanilla candle, and life seemed do-able once more.

I didn't set the table perfectly, and I never though to tidy it or change the stained tablecloth. Those things simply didn't matter. What mattered were the few things which contributed to healing my state of mind, things that give me pleasure and which I too often neglect.

Self care is not a luxury.

It's an essential. 

When not abused, an hour or two of self indulgent care each week can fill an empty emotional tank with mental and spiritual refreshment, not to mention the physical renewal it also brings.

Can I suggest that each week we take a few minutes to stop and assess what's missing in our personal care and give ourselves a small parcel of time to put things right?

Tell me, are you also in need of self care today?

hugs