22 Years

On the 8th of August it will be 22 years since the day my wife and I stood with family and friends under a tent in her parent's backyard. It was a beautiful New England day, my mom made the cake, her dad made sure that his gardens were in full bloom.

We had a Quaker ceremony. We sat in silence. At times, when they felt moved to do so, some of our guests stood and spoke. Some briefly with shaking voices, others confidently and with more volume. Some of what was said was about us, some was reflections on marriage and love in general. To be honest I don't remember most of what was said. I do remember being deeply moved at the time. I felt supported, loved and cared for.

What more could one ask for on their wedding day?

When Anna's grandmother Wilda stood I wasn't sure what I expected. This woman was the matriarch of a large family and a long-standing pillar of her Quaker community. She took a breath, turned to face the two of us and said "you must always remember, and never forget, that the plural of spouse is spice". Then she sat, refolding her hands in her lap.

We've reflected on these words many times over the years. At different points in our lives they have taken on different meanings, though the common current running beneath has remained the same. Anna and I figured out long ago that the more time we spend together, the better it is for our relationship. This isn't the case for everyone, and every couple needs to discover what the recipe is for their own success. For us, we like each other's company. I think Wilda had a sense of this. It's the things we do together that flavor the years. Sometimes it's the big adventures that we save and plan for, but more often it's the unexpected moments. It's the shared experiences that add depth and color to our life together. It's a planned week in the mountains that turned into an unplanned weekend at the beach. It's the countless triumphs and challenges of being parents together. It's the 6 states we've lived in. It's all the animals we've loved and lost. It's the perfect meal, the quiet walk, the phone call that a loved one has died, the phone call that a loved one has been born, it's an ambulance ride, a sunrise, the breaking of a heart, a great bottle of wine. It's 22 years of shared moments, each one a gift in it's own way.

Wilda may have just meant to be funny that day 22 years ago, witty to be sure, and it was both of those things. It also turned out to be the only clear quote that anyone can recall from that day. I've always been grateful for those words, they have served us well. Thanks Wilda, and happy anniversary My Love.

Who's Your Daddy?

(OK, so it's July, but this was written for my other blog and I thought it was worth sharing here, enjoy!) I can’t let June slip by without a post about being a dad. Our family has never really celebrated Mother’s Day or Father’s Day, that’s just how we roll. However, lots of folks like to mark that third Sunday in June, and I want to tell you about my experience.

I think it’s safe to say that I’ve always wanted kids. Happily my wife and I have this in common. I feel unconditionally blessed and humbled that we were able to conceive with relatively little effort. Despite what they tell you in high school, it’s not usually that easy.

I have two very different daughters. I love them both equally, and to the very depths of my soul. My oldest is 14. She’s a super shy, critically-thinking, amazingly brave, out gay teen. My youngest is 12. She’s more outgoing than her sister. She’s uber-competitive, loves to challenge herself and effortlessly moves through the popular crowds in ways that her mother and I never did. (ok, my wife says she was “popular”, but her class in high school had 7 kids, so I’m not sure that counts) My youngest will belt out a song lyric and lay down a dance move without a second thought, wherever she happens to be. My oldest would rather clean the bathroom than talk to the person bagging our groceries at the store.

How did two such different kids emerge from the same union? I have a social sciences background and lean heavily toward the “nurture” side of the nature vs nurture debate. But there you have it. I have no clue.

Where am I going with this? Parenting is a mixed bag. You have these little beings, helpless and completely dependent on you when they arrive on the scene. Many new parents feel as helpless as those infants at first. It’s a learning curve. Through trial and error we find out what works and what doesn’t for that little human. The next little human that comes along may respond totally differently. Maya loved to be swaddled super tight. She was our little burrito, the less she could move the happier she was. Lydia hated that. She would scream like she was being run through with swords if you tried to wrap her up. Lesson learned, and on it goes.

Parenting is a dance to be sure, but it’s improvisational. It’s more like jazz than classical. Read all the books you want, get all the advice you can, but when that child arrives, and for the next 16 years or so, you have to dance to the tune being played in that moment, and with that child.

It’s cliche to say that parenting is a journey (or a dance for that matter), but I’m going to say it anyway. It fits. One step at a time, never knowing quite what is around the next turn, you move along with your child. It requires a great many things, and none of them are ever quite what you expect. There is one thing I do know though, the only thing you really have to do to be a good parent is this:

Just show up.

Everything else gets worked out along the way.

Holiday survival tips

It's happened again. You skied and napped your way through late winter. You tilted your head back and drank in the first sweet breathes of Spring, you biked and hiked the summer away. Recently you looked around and realized that fall had descended, on the wings of golf ball sized hail no less. So here we are, entering another holiday season with all it's blessings and madness. For most of us this time of year is a mixed bag. We get to see family that we might only see once a year. We have an excuse to shower gifts and affection on those we love. For a brief time there is an increased spirit of acceptance and appreciation.

It's not all sugar plums and eggnog though. It can be stressful. It can be depressing. We may feel pressured to do more than we comfortably can. Our gifts may feel inadequate. We may be missing loved ones that we have lost.

How do we stay in the positive flow of these times, without getting lost in the depths of the darker side?

Here's a couple tips:

1) Know what not to compromise. Often over the holidays our normal routines get pushed aside to make others who may be visiting feel more comfortable. We may forgo our morning walk to make sure the coffee is brewing on time. The food we prepare may be richer or sweeter than we normally ingest. We might be drinking more alcohol than on just any other Tuesday night. (and who could blame you?) All these things can throw your body off, and that in turn can contribute to emotional upset as well.

Know what you need to stay on course physically and emotionally, and don't compromise on it. Your family and friends will understand.

2) Take time for yourself. It can be tempting to make sure you spend as much time as possible with out of town guests. After all, you don't see them very often and soon they will be gone again. Keep in mind that you may be much better company if you preserve some time to yourself, especially if you are used to having alone time during the day. Even a solo trip to the store to pick up a forgotten item can be refreshing, and you will be better company, and more appreciative of your guests, when you return.

3) Go easy on the gifts. In some families, and with some friends, there can be tremendous pressure to give expensive gifts. Don't buy into it, pun very much intended. Do you remember what you received for holiday gifts last year? Maybe one or two stand out, but maybe not even that many. Personally, I love Thanksgiving because the focus is on good food and company, my favorite things. But no matter what your religious or social persuasion, sooner or later between Thanksgiving and New years, the gift giving will happen. Maybe a few less pre-made gifts this year could help you be less stressed. Perhaps spending a portion of that money on an activity or some special food items would be more memorable and less costly. Here's another idea: My wife comes from a large extended family and each year they do a Secret Santa ritual where everyone chooses one name from a hat and that is the only person that person purchases a gift for. Everyone gets a gift and no one feels overwhelmed or insecure about the gift giving experience. I love this.

4) Get outside. We live in one of the greatest outdoor playgrounds in the world. Even if you don't have a house full of Olympic skiers, it's a good idea to get everyone out of the house, even if it's only for a quick walk. It clears your head, breaks the routine, and helps you move some of that fruitcake.

Keeping some of these things in mind can help your holiday season to be a little more pleasurable, and a little less stressful.

Pick Your Parts Carefully

I had a client tell me a story the other day. As I was working on the bottom of his foot, he said: "You'll find a lot of scar tissue in there. When I was a kid I was swimming in a quarry and I split that thing wide open. My friend ran out to the road, about a mile and a half away, and flagged down a truck. The truck driver hiked in to the quarry, carried me out and drove me to the hospital. Now that story lives right there in that foot."

This man is entering his 70th year, so I'm guessing it was 55-60 years ago that this occurred. True enough, he was carrying some scar tissue in there. Where there should have been soft and yielding flesh there were areas of rigidity. He was also carrying this beautiful imagery of a stranger helping a kid in trouble. He talked about that, and not about the pain, the blood, the fear, the hospital experience or his recovery. The part he kept there in his foot was the kindness of that man who stopped what he needed to do that day to help him.

We all carry stories along with our scars. Sometimes it's hard to find the grace in there. Often we can choose which stories we cling to, and that can radically effect how we move through the world.

It's also worth noting that every day we have opportunities to play our own parts in other people's stories. How we play those parts will be carried with them too, so it is well worth paying attention to how our characters unfold.

The Edge And The Wall

I read this great article this morning on the importance of not overstretching. It came to me through the magic of Facebook by way of two great massage therapists in Midcoast Maine, Kristen Burkholder and Katia Ancona. Remember that your tendons and ligaments have very little blood flow, and so they take a very long time to heal if damaged.

My massage instructor, Donna Kraft Smith, who was also a yoga teacher, used to say when we were doing our daily yoga practice "know the difference between the edge and the wall". The edge is where you feel resistance, this is where the work should be done. The wall is the place where you feel you can go no further, listen and respect that boundary to avoid injury.

How are You?

It's been raining here in Colorado. You may have heard. Thankfully here in Durango we are not suffering from the horrific flooding that the Eastern part of the state is, and I find my thoughts often drifting to those folks lately. It's a helpless feeling, watching an unstoppable natural event. Here in South West CO we need the rain, and this past week brought more of it than we have had all summer. I've noticed an interesting thing. Even though we are a seven hour drive away from the areas hit hardest by the flooding, and to my knowledge the rains here have been more of a blessing than a curse, people are looking out for one another. Multiple times last week I had clerks at various shops say "stay safe" rather than the usual "have a nice day". I think there is a heightened awareness of personal safety when part of your state is going through something like this. Maybe it was because last week also contained September 11, a day when everyone seems to be a bit more open and sensitive to the well being of their neighbors.

While I obviously don't wish tragedy on anyone, I would like to see more of this attitude expressed in general, and preferably without the need for catastrophic events.

I'm fortunate to be in a profession where asking how someone is, and really listening to the answer is a big part of my day. Or rather, I prefer this attitude, and so here I am in this profession. Often when I first greet a client there will be the obligatory "Hi, how are you?" and the answer will be "great!"

After all, they are here to get a massage, so life is understandably grand.

But once they are settled in a chair and I ask again, it's often a different answer. The stories of broken hearts or disappointments come. The lost job, the, ailing parent, the falling out between good friends. Somehow it's just not OK to let out the truth that we may be struggling with something in public. Not until we feel truly engaged by another do we let the wall slip.

I do understand that sometimes it's better not to lay all of our woes out in the grocery line just because someone happened to ask how we are doing. There are rules and social queues that help us negotiate when and where it's OK to say how we really feel. On the other hand, I have seen some truly beautiful exchanges between folks who do not know each other. Sometimes all it takes is an acknowledgement that this person in front of you is moving through something hard. A touch on the hand or shoulder. A look in the eye that says that you hear them. It can make all the difference. You may be the only person that day to truly acknowledge that life for them is hard right now. Often that one exchange can lighten that person just enough. It can make a real difference, perhaps for both of you.

When it all Falls Apart

What do you do when you feel like you've lost the thread of who you are and where your life is headed? I don't mean when you are having a bad day. I mean when an event, or series of events occur that cause you to go for weeks and months being unhappy with who you are and/or what you are doing. I've been there, though I'm not there currently. I do have a couple of friends who are there. For many of us a change in our work status can cause us to question everything else about ourselves. We constantly define ourselves, and are defined by others, as "what" we do. Rather than "who" we are. This is all very commonsensical, and it's easy to just say, "buck up chum, it's not that bad". But sometimes it can feel that bad.

For most of us, we are more than the label of what we do for work. However, that doesn't mean that it's not a huge part of our self image. What do we do when we feel like there is nothing that excites us? How do we move out of that place of despair and begin to find a new path among all the brambles and dead-fall?

Do we need to define ourselves differently? Can we cast off the importance of the professional label? Yes, that would be very helpful, but bucking the dominant paradigm when we are already feeling unworthy is pretty tough.

I'm not a big fan of trite little feel good sayings. They usually just piss me off. It pisses me off even more when they are true. "One day at a time" is one of these. It just works sometimes. If we can let go of "what about the rest of my life?!",  then sometimes we can breathe a little deeper. And that's important.

It's OK not to know what to do. It's OK not to know where to turn. It's OK to let it all go just in this moment. Break your routine. Get outside. Let yourself be sad. Let yourself be angry. Feel sorry for yourself, it's good for you. No one can mourn you like you can. Sometimes we need to spend some time letting go of all the things we thought were going to happen. Often that is heartbreaking. It doesn't get done in a day. Eventually it is the way we make room for something new.

Oh, and believe your friends when they tell you you're awesome, it's so true.

A Little About Grief and How We Can Help

This might be a bit off topic for a massage blog, but then again perhaps not.

I want to talk about grief, and specifically how we as Americans traditionally deal with an unexpected death in our communities. I think we could do a better job.

I could write this in the abstract, but maybe it's more effective to say that this post was requested by a dear friend who lost her 12 year old son two years ago. He had an undiagnosed heart condition and collapsed at soccer camp.

The following months and years have been a nightmare, of course. How could it be otherwise? But, there are some things that might have made it less so.

Media.

It's easy to be shocked and dismayed at the way most of our news outlets treat the victims of tragedy. My friend was hounded and harassed by the media immediately following her son's death. Including but not limited to helicopters hovering over the house. This is inexcusable.

What can we do?

STOP BEING A CONSUMER OF THIS TYPE OF COVERAGE.

Understand that what those folks are doing when they conduct themselves in such a way is providing what "we" want. Our culture is addicted to "real drama". We need to understand this and ask ourselves why. Write letters to your news providers, especially the local ones. Let them know that this is not what you want. Demand a different kind of coverage that respects the privacy and personal boundaries of people who are in crisis.

The next issue is how we relate to someone we know who has been effected by something like this.

Many times over the past two years my friend has been in the grocery store or some other public place and people who know her have literally run away. Presumably their fear of saying or doing the wrong thing is so intense that they flee instead of lending support.

Death is scary. It's the biggest scariest thing there is. But how we conduct ourselves in the face of it can say a lot about who we are. People who have lost loved ones, especially unexpectedly, need the support of their communities. Not just in the few weeks following, but for years. Again, this is not something that Americans excel at. We love to band together and get something done. We are generally great in the moments following a crisis.  We drop everything, dig in, and lend a hand. We take photos so we can remember how great we did that. We feel good about being of service. All good stuff.

But, the pain doesn't end for the family when the novelty wears off. It's just beginning. Too often the families who were suffocated by support in the days and maybe even weeks after a tragedy are suddenly left alone. The unspoken message is to "move on with your life", "get over it", "don't wallow".

What can we do?

Set up a system of support that is sustainable over the long term. No one person can support a family through something like this. It's commonly heard that it takes a village to raise a child. Well, the sad fact is that it should take a village to lose one too. What if ten families worked together to provide a couple of meals a week, some general house cleaning, child care, whatever is needed? No one person needs to feel burdened, and the family in need feels supported over time, not just in the moment.

It's OK to say "what can I do?" It's OK to say "I don't know what to say". It's OK to be awkward and overwhelmed by how to approach a family in a time like this. It's not OK to slink away from someone you cared about so you won't be uncomfortable. I guarantee that will leave you feeling worse. Give them a call. Write a card. Show up with a bottle of wine and a bag of M and M's.

Death is not contagious. Grief is not a communicable disease. It's hard. It's messy. It doesn't always follow the rules of social conduct that help us all know what to do when. There is a way to know how to help though.

Ask.

(My friend Deb and her husband Ralph are amazing people, as was their son Josh. They have set up an incredible foundation that helps provide early cardiac screenings for kids. Please check out their website )

It Happens To All Of Us

 

My dog Sika is a large girl. She weighs in at about 85 lbs.

She is the happy (for us) result of a St. Bernard in heat, a determined Golden Retriever, and a weak fence. She is one of the sweetest animals I have ever known. She is not however one of the brightest. She is well trained. She has figured out that cats are sharp and unpredictable. She knows every possible word that relates to leaving the house or having a treat. She is mortally afraid of anything resembling a gun shot, including but not limited to fireworks, car backfires, doors slamming, loud tupperware lids, and both bubble gum, and bubble wrap.

She sometimes gets nervous.

When she gets nervous sometimes she forgets how big she is.

When this occurs sometimes bad things happen.

Glasses break, food spills, furniture is toppled, children and adults can get in the way. I won't even mention the cats. The phrase "bull in a china shop" applies. We sometimes call her Cow. Usually in a loving way.

My story does have a point this morning, it's about getting stuck. It's about going to places that we have been before that didn't turn out well, and yet here we go again.

Last night Sika got stuck under the bed. By stuck I mean some part of her was under there, and other parts were not and she was unable to get either all the way in or all the way out. Like Pooh in Rabbit's hole, but more panicky.

This has happened before.

We wake up with bed thrashing about, like a very focused earthquake. I worry that she will seriously hurt herself with this. It requires me to get out of bed and decide which part of her that is accessible would be best to yank on. Talking is not helpful. She is in a state. After she is extricated she shakes it off (literally) and lays down somewhat away from the offending furniture, heaving a great sigh like she has no idea why she must be subjected to such abuse.

We all have been there. We all have done things that did not benefit us in any way, that from the outside were obvious folly. Yet we were not on the outside. We could not see how this would go. Maybe we even do these things more than once. Or maybe once is enough, it depends.

If you are very lucky, you have someone in your life who knows how to pull you out. Not by telling you how dumb you are behaving, but by knowing what to say or do that will move you into a different place. Once away from that place we often have no clue as to how we got there, or why we thought it work out well.

I am blessed to have such a person in my life, and today marks the 21st year of our official union.

Thanks Anna, for continuously pulling me out when I get stuck.

"Just Back and Neck"

In the last week or so I have had two new clients who both were very clear during their intake about not having their legs worked on. One who didn't want feet, arms or hands done either. "Just back and neck" Which is fine, it's always your call, and I wrote a blog about this last year. Here it is. (go on, I'll wait here)

Curiously, they both gave me the same reason, "I don't appreciate it, so it's just a waste of time". (I did have to send my ego to daycare for a little while so I wouldn't come out with "well, when I do legs and feet it's not a waste of time, blah blah blah"

The first person to wave me off the legs was actually a try-out for a part time gig at a spa. I was working on the owner, and so didn't feel like I could argue with her too much. Though I did say "If you were just "any other client" I would feel compelled to lecture you on how everything is connected, etc". She laughed and said all her massage therapists tell her that.

The second was a new client who came in to take advantage of a free session. I did try to talk to her a bit more about how she's not just a back and neck, but a whole system that is completely tied together. How work on her legs and feet can effect how her back and neck are feeling. She was having none of it. Which is fine.

Some people have issues with certain parts of their bodies being worked on, and it's imperative that we hear that, and respect it. Often they will say something to effect of "I just don't like it". That to me is a flag that there may be a deeper issue and I need to proceed with caution.

The "waste of time" comment was a new one on me, and hearing it twice in a week was odd. Though there is good possibility that this was just their version of "I just don't like it" and I treated it more or less the same.

I did ask if they were comfortable with some compression done over the sheet, and they both said they were. I asked if it would be ok to bend their leg at the knee and work on their hips, they both agreed to that. In fact they both commented that they specifically liked that work after I had finished.

I would never work on anyone outside of what they expressed they wanted. But I think it's important to thoroughly examine what they really want from the session and to educate my clients about the benefits of incorporating the whole body. By identifying what the goals are, we know where we are going. How we get there is up to the client, and that's where the practitioner needs to be as flexible as possible. Compression, traction, stretching (passive, assisted and active), energetic work, these are all viable options if the client is open to them, and none of them involve "massage" per se.

The more tools we have in our bag, the more route options we have to get where we need to go, but the client is always in the driver's seat.