Advice for Parents

Refueling…

In the Fall 2007 copy of the Renfrew Connections newsletter the query was posed, “Do you need more spiritual nurturance in your life?”  This was followed by seven questions to help one decide whether or not more spiritual nurturance was needed.  The questions were:1

1.    Do you take time each day for quiet time and reflection?
2.    Have you spent time in nature appreciating its beauty?
3.    Do you give yourself time weekly to rejuvenate, rest, and relax?
4.    Can you name 5 things about yourself and your life for which you are grateful?
5.    Do you trust your intuition when making decisions and using your own judgment?
6.    Can you describe what you believe in regarding your spiritual perspective?
7.    Have you been of service to others in the last month?

Especially during the holiday season that is now upon us, these thoughts are important for me as a parent to ponder.  I answered “no” to the first three.  I rationalized in my head, “But we’ve been in crisis…[please see previous entries for an explanation] certainly taking time each day for quiet reflection, appreciating nature’s beauty and rejuvenating myself takes a back seat during times of intensity?!!”

Immediately I knew I was wrong.  I have no problem (okay, occasionally a problem) with taking care of myself when times are easy.  When times are difficult I am fully aware that I have nothing to give if I am running on empty and yet I still neglect those first three “spiritual nurturance” suggestions.  I see them as “refueling.”  If I were my car and the gas gauge was on empty I would merely stop running.  I have not allowed my car to run out of gas in many years.  Why do I treat my car better than myself?

If my child is suffering from an eating disorder, the best thing I can do is to increase the spiritual nurturance in my life.  Being kind to myself is the example I’d like my child to emulate.  I vow to do better.  It is 6 PM and I am still at the office with a stack of work set to go home with me for “after-hours” completion.  That pile stays here tonight.  Although it is already dark out, I will bundle up and go outside and appreciate the night sky.  I must refuel for tomorrow.

Blessings until next time,

Doris

1Fall 2007 Renfrew Connections, Assessment adapted from an article by Carolyn C. Armstead, Shape Magazine, 2001.

Let go of the bag!

Last weekend during our travels to Philadelphia my husband and I had to get from Terminal C to Terminal A at the airport. As we jumped on the up escalator I lost hold of one of the two suitcases that I’d been wheeling behind me.  This errant bag proceeded to bounce down the escalator stairs.  I turned to grab it but struggled greatly as I attempted to pull my smaller bag down the steps with me.  I felt at a complete loss as to how to retrieve my wayward luggage.

After a few seconds I yelled for Tom to help.  He was nearing the top of the moving staircase completely unaware of my struggles.  When he turned around he said simply, “Doris, let go of the bag.”  It took me a moment to realize that I’d been holding tightly to my second bag.  As soon as I released my grip I was able to run down the stairs, grab the lost bag and meet up with the other one that had arrived safely at the top without my assistance.

In such a hurry to catch the train out of the terminal we weren’t able to laugh aloud at my escapade. On the train ride it occurred to me how my experience shared a small similarity to the story Anita Johnston shares in her book, Eating in the Light of the Moon.

Anita uses a raging river (overwhelming emotions) and a log (the ED) as a metaphor for the difficulty in healing from an eating disorder.  I am writing this from the hospital while both my daughter and granddaughter sleep and so am not home with my resources. Hence, I will need to paraphrase this beautifully told story for you (and hope that I do it justice—I encourage you to buy the book and read it for yourself.) 1 

Anita tells of a woman sitting on the banks of a river.  Over time the river begins to rage and the woman falls in.  The woman is sure she’s going to drown and grabs at anything to hold onto. Fortunately, a log rushes by and she’s able to snatch it and wrap her arms tightly around it, saving herself from certain death.  When the river calms the woman hears people on the bank of the river shouting for her to swim to shore, which the woman attempts to do again and again…without success.  The reason:  she continues to hold onto the log—what had saved her life is now preventing her from living her life.  Everyone on shore sees her dilemma and encourages, “Let go of the log!  Just let go of the log!”  The story continues explaining the lengthy process the woman goes through in order to finally let go of the log and swim to shore.

In my comical scenario it never occurred to me to “let go of the bag.”  Even when Tom made the suggestion, there was a part of me that resisted his logic.  My rattled brain thought that somehow I might lose both bags.  There is no way my incident comes close to the agony an eating disorder sufferer experiences in “letting go of the log.”  But I did feel the resistance to “logic” when one’s mind is not thinking well.  I got a glimpse into the window of resistance Andrea had to “letting go” of her log.  It is amazing to me how, over time, I continue to gain understanding of my daughter’s experience with bulimia. I imagine this will be a life long process.

Blessings until next time,

Doris

1 Anita Johnston, Ph.D., Eating in the Light of the Moon: How Women Can Transform Their Relationships With Food Through Myths, Metaphors & Storytelling, (Gurze Books, 1996).  To purchase through Gurze: http://www.gurze.com/productdetails.cfm?PC=1219

 

Waiting…

I am waiting again.  Not the “small” waiting of the checkout line but the “big” waiting.  The waiting we can fall into when we think, “Once I get through _____(fill in the blank), life will get back to normal and all will be fine.”

This “waiting to live” is familiar to me.  In my early years I waited for those pesky 10 pounds to come off before I could be seen in a bathing suit.  I waited for the phone call from the guy who promised he’d call.  I waited to begin living.

Often in our daughters’ youth they’d be sharing their adventures of the day with me and I’d hear, as if through a fog, “Mom are you listening?”  Usually I’d shake my head and pull myself from whatever past or future event I was trying to work through and answer, “I’m sorry—could you repeat what you just said?”

Andrea’s death pulled me into present time—the pain of grieving made each moment real to me.  Recently, during the months prior to our daughter Jocelyn’s illness with Guillane-Barré (please see the posting “Glad to be back” for a complete explanation) again I realized that I had slipped back into waiting.

I had spent the nine months previous to Jocelyn’s illness waiting for summer.  It was to be the first summer since Andrea’s passing that I would not either be studying or writing a book.  Tom and I had planned to take a cruise together following a week’s vacation with our daughter, son-in-law and grandson.  This would be the summer of relaxation.  All year I’d looked forward to summer’s two months of “easy living” and rest.  How glorious.

Life happened and that imagined summer was not to be, but what of those previous nine months?   I had spent so much time thinking about the future that I did not experience my present.  I was waiting again and Jocelyn’s illness jerked me back into the reality of each moment.

Last Wednesday Jocelyn had an emergency Cesarean Section.  Her daughter was born five weeks premature.  Because both mom and baby are fine and still under the watchful care of experienced nurses, Tom and I were able to keep our speaking engagement at Bryn Mawr College near Philadelphia.  While sitting on a campus bench watching the crimson and yellow leaves fall to the ground, I was stunned by the realization that I was “waiting again”.  I had been holding my breath wondering how in the world we were going to manage this unexpected turn of events.  Would we be able to return to our 24-hour shifts in the hospital?  How would Joc and her husband manage this new stressor? How would Tom and I manage this new stressor?  Would the hospital allow our granddaughter to continue breastfeeding by living-in with her mother while mom finishes physical therapy?

On this bench I recognized my need to surrender to what is.  This situation is guaranteed to change—on that I can depend, but the energy I was putting into worrying about its outcome was costing me dearly.  So often when our child suffers with an eating disorder we play this waiting game.  We think, “As soon as they are well we can…”  “When this hospitalization ends then we’ll…”  If I wait, I rob myself of the joy that is in each moment; I reject what is real and true and miss the chance to be alive in my “new normal.” I am going for a walk out into the crisp chill of fall and be here.

Blessings until next time,

Doris

Making our values conscious

I began this story in last week’s blog, so please read that if you are “tuning in” for the first time.  During the week since my last posting I have watched as the issue of a sort of “Biggest Loser” contest among teachers and between middle school sites in my home town was bantered about.  The most interesting thing was how every single person expressing their opinion equated “dieting” and "weight loss" to “healthy living.”

I met with the organizing teacher, whom I’ll call Mr. A.  He is a caring, passionate human being who wants to help himself and others become more fit (again, fitness being equated to losing weight).  Once I listened to his desires I shared some of what I’ve learned since Andrea’s death about the deleterious effects of dieting, owning that prior to my daughter’s death I felt and believed precisely what he had expressed.  We met later that afternoon with more of the involved “stakeholders,” conducting the meeting as an “interest-based problem solving” session where attempts to find a “both/and” on the issue rather than an “either/or” were made. 

Although I could tell that the paradigm shift I proffered was difficult for others to comprehend, my interests were heard and the “straw design” created at the close of our meeting included changing the title of the challenge from the “Biggest Loser” to the “Health & Fitness Challenge” and shifting the focus from weight or inches lost to each individual setting personal goals toward fitness and health (weight loss may be their personal goal but it is not the stated focus of the entire group).

When I left Mr. A’s classroom I ruminated on what determines fitness for me now as compared to before Andrea’s death.  Prior to losing my daughter I, too, saw weight loss as the road to fitness.  I, too, categorized foods as “good” and “bad.”  I chose foods back then based solely on their calorie and fat content.  While gathering the data and research I wanted to share with Mr. A, I ran across a food choice exercise on the web site of nutrition researcher/professor Dr. Linda Bacon [http://www.lindabacon.org/Bacon_Whydoyouchoosethefoods
youdo.pdf].  I found it to be as Dr. Bacon states, “an opportunity to get to know [ourselves] better” and “to help make [our] values more conscious.”  She explains:

What values you hold and how important each one is to you determines whether you choose a rich cup of hot cocoa made from chocolate and whole milk, a water-based hot cocoa with an artificial sweetener, some gradation in between, or whether you eschew processed foods and/or dairy products entirely.  It also determines whether you experience your choice as guilt or pleasure. 1

Raising our values to the level of conscious awareness seems to be the key to just about everything, especially when related to food and diet.  I want my actions to be a true reflection of my values—to do that I first must become clear on what I value.  That takes some personal exploration and time—rare commodities for we parents … but so worthwhile.

Blessings until next time,

Doris

1 Linda Bacon, PhD, nutrition researcher, University of California, Davis; nutrition professor, City College of San Francisco; author, Health at Every Size: Finding Your Happy Weight (expected June 2008). Web site: http://www.lindabacon.org/index.html