Confession – I’m not always all bright and shiny. SHOCKER I know. I try to only post positive, but there is a reality that exists. You know, real life?
I love Brene Brown. Do you know Brene Brown? The Queen of Vulnerability. She does this amazing TED talk on the Power of Vulnerability… have you seen it? Oh you must. Here’s a treat:
So AnyWay… yesterday was one of those no good, very bad, terrible kind of days. I’ve been waiting for 3 weeks for an appointment with a new Functional Medicine doc to discuss my ongoing health issues. The list is long, and this guy is good, and honestly I just need someone to HELP me. I did it, I broke down and reached out for help. And I documented all of my symptoms in my handy dandy journal. I was patient. ME, patient! And I showed up 15 minutes early with my notebook and my water bottle and I was PREpared.
The poor guy never knew what hit him. In his defense, it was 8:45 am. I’m sure 90% of his week consists of sore throats and hormone related questions (he specializes in hormone therapy) what he didn’t expect was some all natural chick showing up, smelling like Frankincense with a notebook filled with rather scary neurological symptoms! I didn’t know how much time I had, so I just sat down, shook his hand and opened my book and started listing them off. Followed by what is helped with daily turmeric, what is affected by standing up, what my scans show… He looked PETRIFIED. As he physically started to lean away he gently told me that he doesn’t think there’s much he can do. There is so much damage… this is beyond his expertise. He can recommend and refer other practitioners… but I shouldn’t hold my breath.
Well Great. Just great. Here I go placing all my hope in some strangers hands and he just dropped it like the giant mess that it was. So I cried. And Cried. And Cried. Then I heaped on some self pity and thought about how terrible it all is. And my kids have the never ending tummy aches, and we’re always a little hungry because… THATS WHY PEOPLE EAT CARBS AND GRAINS! They fill you up. Makes me want to kick Monsanto. If they just left the food alone it wouldn’t destroy us so… Ok. You get it. I was in a ripe mood.
And then a girlfriend messaged me and asked how I was doing. And I let rip… nothing is good, everything is bad. She asked me to tell her 3 things I was grateful for. No judgement. No garbage. Just clean. What are you grateful for? And it spun me around.
I sat down to read my son a comic book (which I detest, they are so challenging to read…) and the inside back cover of the comic book had a photo of a child in a super hero costume and a caption. I read the caption and it was from a mother of a 9 year old boy. The child was born with Down’s Syndrome and at age 2 was diagnosed with Autism as well. At 9 the boy is non-verbal but loves when she reads him comic strips so she sent a photo in, requesting they print it on the back page.
REALITY LIGHTENING BOLT. Or as the famous and lovely Glennon Doyle (Momastery) calls it, Perspectacles. Really, am I daring to feel self pity when this beautiful, strong, courageous woman is out there living her beautiful messy life? Now every time I feel frustration that picture comes up in my head and I think of his mom, and I send her a prayer.
OK. Time for Metta. I know it’s a long post… but I gotta tell you about Metta before I log off. Tosha Silver turned me onto it in her amazing book Outrageous Openness. For the sake of brevity – it’s the practice of sending love and prayer to others. So I found the prayer and posted it near my desk. And now every day I sit in quietness, breathe, and say the Metta prayer for everyone I feel that needs it. One at a time. My husband, my children, my parents, the lady who checked me out at the grocery store, some angry person that cut me off, the woman with the super hero non-verbal child. I say Metta over and over and over. And I imagine that it’s a rainbow of peace and love that it some small way may brighten their day.
And then, I feel peace.
Create your sunshine life with a touch of vulnerability, perspective, and Metta.