Tuesday, February 3, 2015

This Old Body

My body is letting me down today.  This happens quite often.  I wake and know that something's not right.  Living with a chronic disease is like that.

It's frustrating.

You see, I'm a type A personality.  I don't like sitting still, doing nothing.  My brain races too much when I do that.  I think of everything I should be doing.  And trust me, with six kids, that list is long.  There's always something to do.

But not today.  As you've probably noticed from my recent posts, I'm trying to live in the moment more.  To practice mindfulness.  Not only of my thoughts, but also of what my body is telling me.

Today, it's telling me I need to sleep.  I don't like that.  I want to be up writing.  I want to be productive.  But after almost 12 years of Crohn's Disease, I know Bad Things happen when I exhaust myself.  Part of my struggle with Crohn's is anemia.  Not the normal "take an iron supplement and all with be fine" anemia.  But the "you've lost so much blood you need to be hospitalized for a blood transfusion" kind of anemia.

It stinks.

So I'm being mindful.  I got the kids off to school.  I plyed a singles yarn I spun.  And now I'm crawling into bed.  I'm trying not to let it bother me, but truthfully, it's hard.

My brother and I joke that I have a Bob Vila kind of body.  If you don't know, Bob Vila fixes up old houses.  You know, the kind where something is always going wrong.

That's me.  And normally, I get upset about needing down time.  But not today.  Today, I'm going to listen to my body.  Today, I'm going to sleep.

Today I'm going to be thankful that I have a job where I can sleep when I need to.  I'm going to be thankful that the kids are all in school today, giving me time to rest.  I'm going to be thankful that Steve is home to help me.

And most off all, I'm going to be thankful that after all these years, I'm finally learning to listen to (and love) my broken down body.

Monday, February 2, 2015

My Own Snow Day

It's snowing today.  Not enough to be a nuisance.  The kids are all in school (thank goodness!) And for the first time in a long time, I have a few hours in the house to myself.

The quiet is glorious.

I'm sitting at the table with my coffee, listening to the wind howl and watching snowflakes blow past.
It's not a pretty day.  There's not enough snow to cover the ground.  The sky is the type of gray that makes you cold just to look at it.

But I am thankful.

Thankful for the silence.  Thankful for the deep comfort I take in silence.

I didn't grow up in a loud family.  My family was quiet.  There were only four of us.  And we were readers.  Studious types.  Not given to yelling or loud bursts of joy.  Our house was steady and quiet.

The exact opposite of my house now.

And while I absolutely LOVE my wild, loud children, sometimes I miss the silence.  So I'm embracing the few hours of quiet that I have now.

I have coffee and good book (Summer of the Dead by Julia Keller--she's a fantastic author whose novels are set in West Virginia).  I'll start the day reading and then I'll sit down at the computer and write.  The words come much easier when I'm in a quiet place.

In a few hours the kids will come home and my house will return to its normal state--loud and crazy.  I love that too.

But right now, this quiet is delicious.