That Finish Line Feeling...

A finish line is a miraculous place. In a sporting event or a life event - months of preparations culminate in that brief and magic moment of "finishing".  But to finish - one must start, and then middle, and then finish.  That middle part - not always enjoyable, but a part of the process.  No shortcuts - just determination. 


Yesterday, I stood at the finish line of The Nation's Triathalon cheering for my sister as she completed her third triathalon this summer.  During the day, both on the course and at the finish - I observed many people of all shapes, sizes, and ages.  Some were barely moving and in pain and some were sprinting laughing, and literally kicking up their heels with joy.  No matter what state they were in - the crowd cheered them on, and the magic happened because they dared and prepared to finish what they started. 


That magic moment of finishing, of crossing that line of completion (whatever that may be) is incredible.  In an event such as a marathon or triathalon - it is the almost indescribable feeling of the medal placed around your neck.  That moment is worth every book and training manual studied, every early rising, every blister, every foregone martini, every hour of time spent away from a family - every sacrifice that was made.  You know in that instant that somehow, no matter what the circumstances, disabilities, distractions, and issues - a miracle was accomplished.  That miracle then spurs on more accomplishments, because you know that you can...

And so, you start again, and middle again, and finish again, and so on, and so on.


Not always easy - but the finish line represents the courage to begin, to try, to go out, and to succeed.


"Far better is it to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure, than to take rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy much nor suffer much, because they live in the gray twilight that knows not victory nor defeat."  Theodore Roosevelt

It's Over and It Is Just Beginning

Labor Day Monday - a day traditionally considered to be the end of summer. Tomorrow marks returns to school and to a more disciplined schedule of work with summer vacations completed.


Technically - summer is over on the autumnal equinox, which is scheduled for 3:09 a.m. UTC (Coordinated Universal Time) on September 23rd, 2010. On that day, the sun crosses the equator and moves southward in the northern hemisphere. At that time, the earth’s axis of rotation is perpendicular to the line connecting the centers of the earth and the sun.

Mmmhmmm...that's all the technical explanation required...And now - to the point...
It's Over
Summer 2010 was radically different from the summers of the recent past. It was challenging as I learned about handling rejection, trying to find a new job, change, and rebirth.


This summer brought relief of rejection in many forms:
- a few excessive ice cream consumptions (should have bought stock in Dairy Queen)
- some chocolate binges (dark for the antioxidants)
- lots of job research and reading
- full contact racquetball matches (getting hit stings!)
- obsessive cleaning jags
- a half marathon
- a three day 60 mile walk to serve a cause more important than myself


Those relief efforts have left me with a couple extra pounds - but they will be soon gone again when marathon training gets serious starting tomorrow.

There were tears, more than I'd like to admit. Eventually, the tears led to giggles, smiles, and finally back to the laughter that permeates my life. The most important thing was that no matter how dark the mood, I knew I could transform and become stronger and more confident than I had ever been.


I also can't recall a summer when I have seen more butterflies. Monarchs, yellow ones, white ones - they have been everywhere. The development of a butterfly follows several stages - and my summer 2010 seems to have been the chrysalis stage. That stage of a butterfly is marked by little movement. But it is the stage in which growth and differentiation occurs. It is a protected covering, a sheltered state, or a stage of being or growth.

Peaceful and quiet, not frantic and frenzied, summer 2010 has been a gift of contemplation, evaluation, and growth, and certainly a sheltered state of sorts. It was a transformational journey and a blessing. It will always be a time in my life I will value for the lessons learned about patience, forgiveness, acceptance, and letting go control of that which I cannot control.

It Is Just Beginning
September 7th, 2010 - New Season/New Beginning

The adult butterfly emerges from the chrysalis and expands its wings by pumping haemolymph (a fluid) into the wing veins. This sudden and rapid change is called metamorphosis.

More on that in the next post...

A Good Reminder...

"You are never given a wish without also being given the power to make it come true."
Richard Bach

Out of the Cocoon

At the very moment when the caterpiller thought the world was over, it became a butterfly.

Maybe

Maybe . . . the brightest future will always be based on a forgotten past;
after all, you can't go on successfully in life until you let go of your past mistakes, failures and
heartaches.

Maybe . . .
you should dream what you want to dream;
go where you want to go,
be what you want to be,
because you have only one life and one chance
to do all the things you dream of, and want to do.

Maybe . . .
you should start right now.

A Poet - and I Didn't Know It...

As I embark on the journey of the Breast Cancer 3-Day Walk to cure this disease - I was inspired by Clement Clarke Moore's timeless poem, "A Visit From St. Nicholas".  My poem is certainly of a more abbreviated nature.

A Inspired Visit from St. Peregrine (patron saint of cancer patients and healing)
Twas the Night Before the 3-Day...when all through the house...all the pink clothing was stirring, and there was concerns of a douse



The weather was forecast to be rainy and damp, but the weather won't stop the event and, thank goodness, no camp...(for me anyway :))

The preparations were done on the asphalt with care, in hopes of that the cure soon would be there...

The shoes were all laced and the sox clean and bright,
there was much excitement for the pasta dinner tonight


When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, she sprang from her bed to see what was the matter
When what to her wondering eyes should appear, but a fanny pack with water bottles, and all the right gear


And she whistled and shouted and called the checklist by name:
Now poncho, now Body Glide, now shorts and aspirin,
On bandaids, on T-shirt, on mole skin, on Neospirin,


She spoke not a word, but went straight to the work, and she walked for the cause so that fewer would hurt

And I heard her exclaim as she walked out of sight
"Happy 3 Day to All - and please St. Peregrine, no more breast cancer in sight"


Carpe Diem, and so it is...

Attention, Please...

It amazes me what happens when you "pay attention".  In this modern and hectic life, so much occurs and fills the space that is normally consumed just by being consumed.  Busy to be busy, distracted to just be that way. 


And then, there is a moment of quiet, when mobile devices and televisions and ipods and all manner of thing falls away, and you can SEE what needs to be seen (and wonderful surprises as well), and attend to that which needs or desires attending, and be at peace knowing you make a difference just by paying attention. 


It was in one of those moments of attention that I found this quote - and boy, did it help me see...


"Once, there was no road where I wanted to go.  So I made my own.


And I haven't looked back ever since.


My dream is to carve my own path.  I was never one to follow maps. "

Carpe Diem, and so it is...

Migraine Musings and Metaphors

I deal with migraines on a pretty consistent basis - and today is one of those days.  I felt it starting last night (it literally feels like a big brick with spikes is is crawling up the back of my neck).  Despite efforts to the contrary - it arrived this early morning.  Of course the hot dog I ate last night loaded with those tasty nitrates didn't help, but I was at a ball game.  Ball game = hot dog.  It is a universal law that those two things go together.  Amen.

Why am I writing then?  It is too painful at present to do nothing and rest.  It's easier for me to keep my mind engaged till the Imitrex kicks in (if it does).  In this stage of the migraine event - I do things to avoid the pain - drink coffee, thumb through magazines, wander around adjusting pictures, writing in the blog...  Unfortunately, avoiding the pain now doesn't necessarily prevent it from having to be "gone through" later.  Sometimes, going through it teaches you how to deal with it the next time and the next time...



During the migraine event itself - depending on it's "personality" - it is a real challenge to exist.   My migraines have different personalities.   Some cause sensitivity to smell, some light, some touch, some noise, some cause extreme nausea, some knock me out so hard I don't even remember getting through them.  They last between 12 hours and 72 hours - again depending on the  "personality".   During that time, unless I can intercept with Imitrex, I need to go through it and come out the other side feeling better.  Going through usually involves a lot of sleeping, ice packs, sometimes a bit of writhing, and just plain praying for the pain to be done. 



Just before an event concludes - the pain is the ABSOLUTE worst.  I have named it the "spike" and it can be wretched.  I can't sleep, eat or move around.  It is basically sitting as best as possible and waiting for the end of it.  Nothing can soothe this phase - it just needs to pass. 


But then - (cue the white heavenly light) - it starts to stop and "lift"...as if almost by magic.

When the migraine is over - the pressure empties, the brick and spikes disappear, and my head feels a rush of (what I perceive to be) cold air filling the vacuum of the spots that hurt so badly.  It is peaceful and refreshing.  The pain evaporates into the ether and there is this exhausted but wonderful "high" that fills in the gap where the pain was.  This transition wipes out any remaining energy I have, but it is such an awesome conclusion to such a nasty time.  There is such serenity in knowing that the pain is gone, and I can return back to my "normal" self (hahaha).   The sleep following a migraine is like being wrapped up in a big thick down comforter with big fluffy down pillows, like 5 of them...

As with migraines and other things, sometimes, the only way through the pain is to go through the pain.  As Winston Churchill once said, "when you are going through hell, keep going."  Feel what you are feeling, don't avoid it, but face it, learn from it, and know that it will soon be done.  And then, on to the plush down comforter (and perhaps some really good macaroni and cheese - yummy). 


The pill isn't kicking in yet, and it appears I am into an event.  Time to gird the loins and get going through it so it can be done before Friday.  That topic for another entry.


To all who are getting and going through pain - I wish you the best.  Carpe Diem, migraine and all...and so it is...

Pythagorus Said...

While working on my book this afternoon - I paused for a moment to look out the window.  There were two boxelder bugs literally stuck together running around the window and making their way as best they could.  Why were they stuck together? - Well, me thinks they "hooked up" to make more boxelder bugs but their association was now lengthier than either had planned.


There was a bigger bug (BB), and a smaller bug (SB).  BB was basically dragging SB around.  As I looked closer - I watched SB twisting and turning, doing it's best to detach from BB.  SB would move its head down as if to talk to BB and say "let me go", and "I'm so done being dragged around by you".  It was very evident (as it now appears in addition to German,  it seems I speak Boxelder) that SB had had enough, and wanted to move on to the next thing. 


This little dance went on for some time...SB kept twisting around and around and BB would just take off in another direction.  Finally - SB detached and quickly scurried off on a different path.  BB just sat there for a while, and finally flew away - notably in the opposite direction.


So after all the entomology talk, what does an ancient Greek mathemetician (who had a nice theorem by the by) have to do with boxelder bugs, windows or finally detaching from something one has outgrown?


Pythagorus said, "Eleven is the number of a cycle of new beginnings."


Carpe Diem, and so it is...

Carpe Diem - the Signs Aren't Always Pleasant

Several pieces of bad news in the last few days.  My very good friend Michael's father passed earlier this week.  My elderly aunt Caroline is awaiting a (hopefully) peaceful passage after having a heart attack and stroke. But the most challenging was receiving word this morning that one of my contemporaries from my university choir passed away from breast cancer.  She was about my age - late 40's and leaves behind two young children and a loving husband.  Although we were acquainted years ago, and have not kept in touch save a few intermittent reunions - it has given me a very uneasy feeling.  One never knows when this great adventure of life will be over.


I found myself recalling some memories of Geri, specifically surrounding a choir trip to Ireland in 1983 (and what a trip that was - yikes...).  She had a beautiful face and a sweet but quiet demeanor.  I find myself wishing I had known her better.  Now instead of having that opportunity, I can only offer prayers and condolences to her family.  Regrets aren't really my cup of tea, and there is certainly a lesson and reminder here that has all but hit me over the head.


Two people in a few days - done.  One more - to be done soon.  Done with their time on the planet.  It is never simple, but somehow the passage of an older person who has "lived" their life is somehow easier to accept.  A mother of an 8 year old and a 14 year doesn't compute.  Yes - there are reasons for everything, but it is still hard to swallow.


Breast cancer (or any kind of cancer) doesn't seem to care much for who it attacks, or the lives it changes and disrupts. It ravages those whose lives it touches, and it needs to stop.


I am re-energized for my upcoming Breast Cancer 3 Day later this month.  Those 60 miles will give me a renewed opportunity to bring funds and attention to this form of cancer.  And I will think of Geri and all the others who didn't make - and I will dream of a time and place when that doesn't happen any more.  More on that later...


In the meantime - it really is about Carpe Diem, cause you never know.  As Teri Nelles so aptly put in her email this morning - Hug those you love and tell them so. 


Carpe Diem, and so it is.