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I wanna keep an open mind. I really really really do. So for the past couple of days, meaning for this week while I am participating in my training program for work, I have been reminding myself to keep my mind open.

Reminding is really an understatement. of gargantuan proportions.

In order to keep the jaws of my mind from clanging and clamping forever shut, I have pulled out all of the stops. I have dug deep. real deep. I have searched high and low for all of my coping tools to keep my mind open to this particular therapy model and its’ accompanying theory.

I have been successful. mostly. successful.

I mean, there’s been a few clanging sounds as the jaws of my mind and their side doors slammed shut. But with the use of my newly oiled tools from my coping tool box I was able to pry the jaws open again. Plus, I was able to convince my wiser, more mature self to hang out a lot this week to help my younger, more impulsive and less wise self ~ to help this youngster remember that there are more than one or two ways to learn and teach.

Later this afternoon the training is slated to come to a close. Yippeee! and, Amen!

I can feel the warm humid wind blowing through my wide open mind even as I type these words. Maybe the good new stuff is weighted enough to stay and the other stuff will blow away in the breeze.

Okay. So that is not always true. There are often two ways about most things. Two ways of accomplishing things, goals, end products, projects, assignments, purposes. Sometimes there are more than two ways.

And yes, it is true. There are times that there are, indeed, no two ways about it. When those times come around, there is only one way about it. To do it. To accomplish it. To arrive at a destination. Only one.

Thankfully, I believe those one way to do it times happen only on occasion. Not frequently.

Thankfully.

Cuz coping with a big case of the “V” (aka vertigo) requires multiple coping skills and ways in which to accomplish most everything in a day’s worth of needing to get done. These things run the gamut from simple tasks ~ brushing one’s teeth without bending over the sink and without making a mess ~ to complex ~ packing one’s suitcase for a week’s worth of living and packing the correct and needed items.

The phrase “work smarter not harder” ~ comes to mind. And then in the case of a “V” influenced mind, this helpful phrase just as quickly slides out again.

Good thing that most often there are two and three and sometimes four ways to go about things.

Yep.

I could go for a great big ole bowl of some hot and spicy jambalya, thick with a dark perfect roux, fresh okra, shrimp, and assorted sausages.

Yes sir.

I sure might could.

Across
and
between
the should’s in my conscious
that point their sharpened brightly painted nailed fingers
at me,
almost in my face,
demanding that I be grateful
responsible
and by all means,
view my cup as half full and overflowing.
overflowing with plenty.
No matter
that I just received
and opened
a crap load of bills
and medical insurance information
stating that I get to pay
boat loads of monthly fees and payments
for the enviable benefit of insurance for my health.
But that my vertigo, my ailment,
my little bastard of a friend,
has been visiting so long he’s now
a pre-existing condition.
Damn me for taking myself into
the emergency room. finally.
30 days ago.
Bitching.
That’s what this is.
This. this. this.
freaking frustrating world
in which I live.
In which I am lucky
to live.
A feeling I
should
feel
or
at the very least,
be able to fake.
But right now, folks,
I got
nada.

@junemoon 2011

That’s what my brain is, T-I-R-E-D, right this very moment after spending the bulk of the day dialoging about racism. With a White person who “just wasn’t raised around racism,” and as a result “cannot understand why people put so much emphasis on their ethnicity and race – after all, I am a blend of Caucasian and Spaniard lineage and have never had anyone treat me poorly based on my race.”

I feel tired each time I hear these kind of statements and I hear them whenever the topic of race and racism is broached.

With this particular individual, I have an investment in getting along with her and building a relationship as she will be my right-hand assistant in my new job. Plus, there are many things I really like about her. I hope my efforts to balance the education about racism and being colleagues is worth the required bucket-fulls of energy and effort and patience and acceptance.

What is your ability to pay? initial visit. various and sundry tests. anesthesia, if required. sedative, once again, if required. follow-up appointments. additional care providers, if needed.

What is your ability to pay? sandwich. cup of soup mixes, the kind in the styrofoam container, just add boiling water. canned food, from the dinted and scuffed up bin. bread, from the been here for a long time but still hasn’t grown mold shelf. dried legumes. fruit, spotted here and there.

What is your ability to pay?

Please assess prior to entering. Excuses, masquerading as reasons or backstories ~ formerly known as histories and herstories, must be left at the door. Multiple methods of payment accepted. paper bills. coins. check. credit card, a variety, including American Express. debit card.

No excuses.

What is your ability to pay.

Was struck with a thunderbolt of good thought this morning.

My new job requires me to attend a week long training in another state. To arrive at my workshop destination, I must board an airplane that will take off, go high above the ground, then descend and return to earth. In fact, the getting to this training site requires three rounds of the taking off and landings.

I have been growing increasingly anxious over the thought that the flying might exacerbate my “V” (aka vertigo) and that I might be horribly terribly awfully incapable of being healthy.

And then just a few minutes ago, it dawned on me that the take off’s and descents might just as well cure the visiting “V” and make it depart my body. Ohhhhh! Just the thought of this possibility makes me smile. Brings hope to my heart. Makes me want to do the Happy Dance.

Just think.

It could happen.

For realz People. It could definitely happen.

I could say that I have found a permanent peace with my visiting “V” (aka vertigo). I could say that being continually and unexpectedly without balance has made me slow down in a good way. An answer to a prayer, really. I could say that the not knowing day to day what my performance and capability levels the next day will be, makes me embrace life at a fuller level.

I could.

I wish.

I wish I could say those things and mean them. Really feel the gratitude for the lessons that my body and the universe are providing me. I wish.

The other night, I cried. Tears of anger and frustration. I could say that underneath those tears and my brief break down was the faith that I would be given the strength to withstand this current malady. I could say that the tears will be the last that “V” wrests from me. I could say that my tears helped heal and soothed my shaken belief in the goodness of the world.

I could.

I wish.

Markers. Calendars. Clocks. Designed to tell us what day we are living and in which hour we are alive.

My recent move has gone smoothly, by and large. I am now fine-tuning little things. Establishing new routines. Finding my comfort zone in this new space. Navigating this change as I simultaneously settle into my new job. This getting accustomed to, requires my learning the P and P’s (policies and procedures) of this new workplace. I am unused to being an employee, having run my own business(es) for many years prior to my recent stint at being a grad student and intern. But all of the work stuff is really for another post because what I am thinking of this sunny afternoon is creating new routines in my new living space.

My companion “V” (aka vertigo) is requiring me to give up my morning joe. Dang it! I am currently trying out a new ritual to replace the Morning Cup of Rich Aromatic Dark Joe. The new plan goes like this ~ I arrive home from my place of employment, shed my work duds and replace them with my comfy soft home duds, fire up the laptop, and make myself a cup of peppermint tea. After the tea has steeped, I remove the bag, and drizzle in unsweetened soy milk, which I stir with a spoon. I then bring the cup of tea to my table desk, where I sit down and write my daily blog post.

This ritual has only taken place two times thus far and is far from being a habit. I think I am going to keep practicing this tea ritual at the end of the day on the days that I don’t have other activities planned. Maybe I will like it enough to set aside the time in the schedule. For today, I am glad that I have my cup of hot tea. The warmth and the minty taste and aroma mingle with the creaminess of the soy milk and soothes my spirit.

Soothing is good.

Establishing new comfort rituals and routines take time. I can be patient. The tea is helping me in that direction.

April 2011
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