Blessings in Every Hurdle

August 6, 2014

I find myself asking, "What's wrong with me?" this morning as I lounge on the couch and am not motivated to do anything very productive. I hear the answer almost immediately, "You're tired, Marita." "You're exhausted. You're kind of burned out." My body has a way of slowing me down when I get caught up in the busy-ness of everyday life and forget to stop and rest and recharge enough. 

I took today off because it has been 2 years to the day since I had my open surgery. The surgery that cured my Nutcracker Syndrome and eventually, although it took way longer than anyone had anticipated because of an open wound aka. Sparkle, healed the chronic pain I had been living with in 2012. I was lucky though, doctors found a reason for this pain relatively quickly and I had the surgery eight short months after my first big pain attack occurred. Some people live for years with such pain. :(

As I typed this last paragraph, my mind flashed back to a pretty road on Whidbey Island where Geovanny and I visited on our first day trip together three years ago Sunday. :) I remember the excitement of new love and just beginning to get to know what a wonderful person this man is, this man who is now my husband. 

Young love on the ferry back from Whidbey Island, August 3rd of 2011 :)

I am moved to tears when I think of the incredible gifts I have received. I have jumped over a lot of hurdles but I am so blessed! For every hurdle, I believe there are at least five blessings wrapped up in it. As long as I take the time to see the little sparkly blessings, I know it's all been worth it.

On a day like today, I feel lucky to be able to get up out of bed on my own. (Tears again.) I feel lucky to take a shower. I feel lucky to eat almost anything I want and feel hungry when my body needs food. I feel lucky to walk upright. Lucky to go for a hike later today--my post-op-iversary tradition which started last year with summer hikes to Meadowdale Beach, Mt. Rainier and Cougar Mountain. Lucky to be able to go to the bathroom. (I know, TMI, but if you've ever had surgery, you know what I mean and it IS a big deal.) I feel lucky to feel hardly any pain. (I had cramps over the weekend and a headache the last two days, but it was manageable, uncomfortable yes but manageable, because I was still able to function and drive and visit with people and go to work and eat and go for a walk.)

One of our many hikes last summer to the magnificent Meadowdale Beach in Edmonds, WA (where I first started exercising again after my surgery)

After climbing as far as we could on Mt. Rainier, less than a year after my open abdominal surgery!

Cougar Mountain one year ago today for my first post-op-iversary hike with my love :)

So I'm throwing my "should do" list out the window and embracing the much needed rest of a day off. No matter what the reason for the day off, I am listening to my body right now, as the back of my head still pounds a bit, and acknowledging that I still need to rest. Other things can wait. I really won't be "productive" if I don't first take time to rest, relax and rejuvenate myself. 

Whenever my body calls out like this, I think I will start asking instead "How can I feed my body what she needs?" rather than "What is wrong with me?" Because there is nothing wrong with me. My body is working exactly as it should, by telling me when I've overdone it and when I'm in need of some good old fashioned R + R.

So for now, I'm celebrating this 2nd anniversary of my operation by writing this blog from the couch on my smart phone with the birds chirping outside and the kitty cats lying at my feet.

Gussy warming my feet :)

Roo Bear sleeping above me :)

I'm starting to feel better already. :) So thankful for therapeutic writing and for you reading this piece of my heart.

And today it has been 1 whole year since I started writing weekly wellness blogs and 7 months and counting of daily practice posts! 

Remembering Gratitude, Courage and Vulnerability

"We cultivate love when we allow our most vulnerable and powerful selves to be deeply seen and known, and when we honor the spiritual connection that grows from that offering with trust, respect, kindness and affection."  ~Brene Brown

It's hard to believe sometimes but in a little less than a month, it will have been two years since my surgery. Sometimes it feels like much longer ago than that. Other times, I feel like it could have happened just last week when the traumatic memories of agony and pain come flooding back all the sudden. Thankfully this doesn't happen very often anymore. But I have discovered how very sensitive I am to memories. And I think this led me to a recent epiphany. What if instead of remembering automatically all the difficult, painful, and sad feelings I experienced during that time in my life, I choose to remember and retrain myself to focus on the feelings of elation that I felt right after I woke up from surgery. When I think back of the euphoria I felt in that moment, how relieved and incredibly grateful I was right after I awoke from surgery, after I asked if the surgery had been successful, if the doctors had been able to move my left renal vein away from my aorta, which had been compressing my renal vein to the point of extreme pain and a network of internal varicose veins above my left ovary, and that my vein had not collapsed, gracias a Dios, my heart grows and I remember all the outpouring of love and support I received from family and friends and the amazing dedication and unconditional love and honor that my mother and my husband gave me before, during and after my surgery and long road to recovery. 

This is essential in reframing our past. In not being afraid to "go there" when remembering of a particular time in our life. I don't want to be afraid to think about the time when I fought the Nutcracker Syndrome and won! I want to feel proud! And grateful! I don't want to feel bitter and angry about all the time and energy I lost as a result of the surgical infection I got. I want to remember what an awesome job the doctors did do of transporting my delicate vein to a safer location inside me, so that now nearly 2 years later, I can do pretty much whatever my heart desires. I am no longer held back by physical limitations or pain. Only by the fear of remembering. Only by my own self-doubt. Only by the lack of practice. But those are things I can control. I can reframe what I remember of this period in my life. I can gain confidence when I remember how much courage and strength I showed during that time. And I can get back out there and start moving more again, getting back into the habit of exercising and practicing whatever my heart desires. Little by little. Like I've been doing with my writing this year.

So my nugget that I take away from this epiphany is that if I find myself going back in time and remembering something--whether it be a wonderful memory or a painful one--I must challenge myself to look around in there for just one moment when I felt grateful or loved or joy, and remember that moment above all others. I did not feel a lot of joy during my recovery. I did not have a lot of fun, even though my dear mom would take me to beautiful, lovely places to cheer me up. (I love you, Mom! You are my hero!) I did not always remember how incredibly grateful I was for having a successful surgery, because I was under so much distress from a painful recovery. But now that I have been fully recovered for 1 year and 7 months (because it took me 4 full months to heal the wound left from the infection, aka. Sparkle) and I can look back on all this from a distance, I choose to realize and own my own strength, courage, gratitude, faith, love, and tenacity. 

I sometimes foresee the wisdom and goodness I will gain from a challenge before I actually go through a difficult time. Kind of like seeing yourself at the finish line before you have even started training to run the marathon. And this has helped me move through challenging times with the comfort and faith that I will grow into myself more deeply, practice vulnerability and open my heart up to receive all the love that comes to me, and be able to touch more lives in the end.

Thank you for reading my words. I would love to hear your stories of courage. Share below or on my Facebook page or email me at maritakane@gmail.com.

Self-Esteem is a Delicate Muscle That Must Be Trained Constantly

I think having a positive self-image might just be one of the most powerful tools we can invest in to ensure true contentment and kindness in this world.  I recognize the importance of building self-esteem, especially as a chubby, four-eyed child who could be a bit clumsy and wasn't involved in any team sports, but then I found dance. And dance literally changed my life. The summer before I started high school, I became a part of a team of strong young women, in the not-always-well-known dance sport of colorguard, through a jazz dance class first and then through four years of choreography, stretching, pilates--before it was popular, and performing together all year round, and these women helped lift me up throughout high school and many of them still do, either virtually or on the occasional visit with dear, old friends. I was given the opportunity to cultivate my creativity and express myself through movement and that helped me feel better about myself in so many ways. I found my flow.

Although I haven't performed in a colorguard since my freshman year in college, dance has continually touched my life and the experience of expressing my creativity through movement has helped me overcome many obstacles. When I begin to feel lost, I can almost always pinpoint the feeling beginning when I stopped dancing.

So you can imagine how difficult it was then two years ago when my regular zumba classes at the gym began to make me nauseous and cause pain to rattle down the left side of my body. It was horrifying. Maybe almost worse than having to actually live with the chronic pain, because dancing is my life force.  I considered chair dancing and looked into Nia and other dance forms I could possibly try while suffering from this pain, but it can be very difficult to get motivated when your mind is running wildly with all the possible explanations for what's going on inside your body and how you can fix it. I lost my rhythm and my self-esteem has suffered greatly as a result.

But like mangos, I CRAVE dance, and my body and mind and spirit constantly cried out for movement throughout my recovery, which doesn't just include the "recovery" of 6 weeks that the doctors talk about--it includes the last year and a half while I've been slowly regaining my strength and spirit after going to hell and back.

Last week I finally couldn't take it any longer and although I don't have a gym membership and have a hard time getting motivated to leave the house after I get home in the evenings, I decided to just go for it and start dancing in our living room with our cable company's available fitness videos. And now only after a week, I'm already looking forward to coming home in the evenings to put on my pretty pink coin scarf and shake my body to belly dancing for 15 to 20 minutes in the living room. It doesn't sound like a lot of time, but it's just what I needed to help me feel more alive and more in touch with my creative spirit. All the writing and picture-taking and art that I create help fill me with positivity, but they truly can't compete with the sheer joy that dancing brings me and has always brought me.

So I've really begun to realize that our self-esteem is a very fragile, delicate muscle that must be trained and massaged and worked or expressed constantly in order to thrive, just like our other muscles. I feel lucky to have found an activity that helps me work this all-important muscle.

Recognizing My Wings

I went through an amazing transformation about 3 years ago, when my whole life--everything as I knew it--was flipped upside down by a surprise end to a 10-year relationship.  I look back on my healing process in awe now and how I literally came out of my shell and found my wings.  I followed a lot of great advice, followed my heart, gave my creativity time to thrive through regularly dancing and dancing in many different forms—zumba, belly dancing, pole dancing, burlesque dancing, salsa dancing, you name it!—spent a great deal of quality bonding time with friends for support, fun and inspiration, and grew spiritually, because I remained open to all the changes happening and I remained hopeful that one of my life’s most precious goals of becoming a mother and having a family would still happen, despite turning 32 when all this happened.  If I let the gremlins take over, as Brene Brown calls them, I would think that there wasn’t possibly enough time to meet someone new, grow as a couple, get married, and start a family before I got "too old."  But deep down, I KNEW in my heart and soul that it WAS possible and that I would be a mother and create a family.  And lo and behold, as my wings grew bigger and even more brilliant and beautiful, and my self-esteem thrived amidst my creativity and budding friendships, I met my future husband and father of my children. I believed it, and it happened.  We were married just 2 years after first meeting and have now been married 10 months.  We are hoping to start a family later this year.  My vision is becoming reality!

While dating and growing as a couple, we went through some very serious health trials—4 surgeries, one of which being major, abdominal surgery to fix a vein that had been compressed near my left kidney, and causing daily achiness and pain whenever I danced or walked—two of my most favorite pastimes and stress relievers. My husband, who was my boyfriend at the time, nursed me back to health, coming to my mom’s house where I was recovering to change my surgical wound’s dressings, because it got infected and was tracking, so A LOT of pain and suffering occurred after that surgery, but A LOT of unconditional love occurred too, both from my husband and my dear mother, who fed me and took care of me for a month after the surgery and then took turns with my husband changing my wound's dressings for several more months.  I knew without a doubt while going through that health crisis that I had found my soulmate and my future husband.  After my wound healed, we got engaged a few months later and were married 6 weeks after our engagement!  It was a truly magical time, filled with family and close friends, creativity and planning, and coming together to create the most love-filled wedding day.

Since then, we have been adjusting to living together, since we didn’t move in together until after our wedding, and learning about each other at a deeper level.  On a personal level, I have still not fully recovered emotionally from all the health crises I went through two years ago.  All of last year, physically, was dedicated about regaining my strength and energy, but I struggled constantly to keep up with my old ways of dancing regularly and walking all the time.  I can dance and walk now.  But I don’t do it as regularly as I used to or as much as I’d like to.  I think I have a lot is fear of feeling pain again, since my favorite activities triggered the pain and achiness and nausea when I was going through my health crises.  And I’m afraid I’ve fallen out of the habit of exercising daily.  I still crave it, but now I feel frustrated and almost desperate to find a way to be active daily again.  I try to go for walks at lunchtime and I do mini-yoga sessions in my living room from time to time, but nothing as regular and as invigorating as my zumba and other dance classes from 3 years ago.  I know A LOT of my healing process and healing secrets from that time were through my dancing.  I gained a sense of confidence that I hadn’t had in a long time and I also opened up through the process of dancing. After nearly every zumba session, I would feel inspired to write and write about some epiphany or important reflection that came to me during the dancing.  I miss that.  I feel almost disappointed with myself for not having kept up with it.  But my inner voice chimes in and reminds me that I physically COULDN’T for quite awhile, due to the pain triggers and then surgery recovery, which was much longer than anyone had anticipated because of the surgical infection and prolonged wound recovery.  Four months of open wound care can take it out of you.  It felt at times as if it sucked the energy and life force out of me.

I think what has happened is that my beautiful, brilliant wings became transparent during my health crisis and recovery, and although I can’t see them as easily now, I must learn to recognize them again. Recognize my incredible journey.  Recognize how far I’ve come and all I’ve been through and learned to get here.  Be kind to myself. Love myself.  Love my transparent wings.  Love my indented scar. Love my rolly belly.  Love my moods and how they can swing from one day or moment to the next.  Love my joy.  Love my enthusiasm and excitement and ZEST for life when it comes to me, sometimes all of the sudden, like a big bolt of positive, fun energy! Even love my fearful nature.  Even love my anxiousness about the unknown.  Love and accept ALL the parts of me, not just the beautiful, which are easier to love, but the painful and difficult parts as well, where the love is needed the most.

I went to a wonderful talk at the Seattle Life Coach Training school last Friday and the inspiring speaker, Sherra Grasser quoted the school's founder, Richard Seaman in his upcoming book, with a profound statement: "Apply LOVE {here}."

Apply LOVE {here}. {There}.  {Everywhere}.

Start small.  And follow my own advice.  I desperately want to get back into being active again and dancing. But I also know that it’s not practical or realistic to think I can just jump back into my 2-3 times a week at the gym for zumba schedule again.  I need to start small. Something though.  Tonight before cooking or going through boxes or writing this blog or even relaxing and vegging on the couch, I needed and most importantly WANTED to try a dance workout on TV in my living room, and I DID IT! 20 minutes of belly dancing felt so energizing and empowering! And I've hung my belly dancing coin scarf, that I wore around my waist for extra motivation, by the thermostat so it is clearly visible and will remind me to try a little belly dancing every night after work.

Start small.

Apply love everywhere.

Recognize the richness of my journey.

Love my transparent wings.

Deciding to Rewrite My History

Recently I read a great line from Tess Marshall of The Bold Life on rewriting our history and I felt compelled to reflect on this and write about it.  I spent much of 2012 dealing with some quite challenging health issues and feeling a bit beside myself and at times sorry for myself because of the chronic, debilitating pain I experienced before having open, abdominal surgery and the acute, agonizing pain I felt post-op due to an infection and open wound as a result, that took 4 long months to heal.  

But what if I chose to rewrite that history for myself?  What if I chose to view and remember all the wonderful things I learned from these challenges and also all the wonderful things that happened at the same time as all these challenges?  Wouldn’t last year’s traumas then have more value and meaning for my overall story and life experience? I think so!

If I shift my focus and instead of remembering all the pain, instead remember all the love I received and was able to give, 2012 is illuminated in a whole new light. A light of learning to trust with all my being and falling deeply in love with my soulmate and now husband, of being gentle and loving with my other soulmate--me!--and of returning to my childhood home to be cared for so tenderly by my dear, sweet, patient mother.

I get a little teary-eyed and start to beam with love and light when I reflect and remember ALL THIS LOVE that filled my life last year. I would MOST definitely prefer to remember all the love, rather all the pain! So here I begin. To rewrite my history. It feels good. It feels positive. Proactive. And fills me with thanksgiving. Like a gratitude journal for the past. That's it! So whenever there is a painful part of your past that might return to haunt you from time to time, remember what you were grateful for during that time. Even if it seems hard. I know there's something. If you have trouble, remember you're alive. That's a BIG something to be thankful for, isn't it?

Photo taken today in Lake Forest Park, Washington by yours truly, la Ecua-Gringa.