In Defense of Cafeteria Catholics...

Sometimes I’m reminded that it’s not an easy road to be a Catholic woman in 2013.  It is very clear to me that I’m not in step with the Church on some fundamental issues. 

Some would call me a Cafeteria Catholic. 

I find the term offensive. My Church has always struggled with those who have dissented and we are known for our colorful history. 

Why is it wrong to question? Why does it make me fringe? When did it become wrong to talk openly about issues? Why does it seem that many of our community don’t want to hear another or different faith filled voice, or consider a different opinion?  And why does my disagreement make me a bad Catholic? I attend Mass, benefit from the grace of all of the Sacraments. I was married in the Church and have openly and honestly raised my children in the faith. 

In our Church history, we have had councils that went on for years discussing the divinity of Christ, the role of Mary, the role of the Sacraments, the role of salvation...

But not today... We have meetings behind close doors, not open for debate, and are becoming extremely cut and dry. 

And yet we struggle as a community to offer transparency. Our Church of late doesn’t have a ton of good PR.  She has struggled to clean up scandal after scandal that has left many shaken. But, while I’m appalled by her missteps, I love her all the more. It is simple to me, the problems in my Church are human, not Divine.  

Despite the name calling, I remain a proud and committed Catholic. Because this is my home too, for much more the better than for worse. I find safety, and most of all I find the Divine.  When my world spins, it is the silence of a chapel, the pull of prayer, the stillness of the rosary, that holds and comforts me...  It is the peace and the grace that is not available anywhere else. It is this faith that warms my soul.  It is the beauty of receiving HIS body and blood; HIS grace, HIS complete forgiveness in the sacraments.

I remind myself everyday that I have seen Christ in the works of others.  I meet Christ in his Sacraments, in the touch of those who work to make me well.  In the work of priests that I love, and admire, in the work of sisters that I hold dear. In the commitments of friends and loved ones who grow their families in a community of faith. 

I see Christ, every single day.  

My dear friend left with her family today for an extended vacation and as she blew me kisses from her walk and I back to her; I realized that this is what community looks like... The unquestionable love for one another.  

And why do you ask would I be labeled a Cafeteria Catholic?

I openly maintain that my Church is wrong on the issue of Gay Marriage.  I just can’t recognize in my core that when God made each of us in his image and likeness; he made a mistake.  My sisters and brothers who Love their partners are my brothers and sisters, too. They could be my parents, my siblings, my children and my grandchildren.  And I will stand beside them till we no longer see these children of God as anything but whole, beautiful and graced.  We must refrain from the use of language that is used to belittle and tear one another down. 

As a mother, I’m enraged that a mother would close the door on her child because of the person that they are called to LOVE.   When you are given the gift of life, YOU as a parent are tasked with loving and raising that person into the best person they are... The person they are CALLED to be. Not the person you want them to be...

As a mother, we don’t get to modify the gift, nor do you get to exchange this gift. You are called to LOVE your gift. When you have children, you don’t change them; you raise and love them. You enhance their gifts to make them successful as human beings made in the image and likeness of the Creator. Not your image, the Creator’s image.

You see, we are all blest with the gift of understanding, empathy and the ability to love. And when you look in the mirror and begin to say you love only this person and not that one, you are fundamentally breaking with God’s gifts.

We are called to LOVE one another.  Christ called all of us, not the easy way, Christ didn’t say only the smart ones, or the pretty ones or the easy ones, or only the straight ones... He called all of us, to Love each other. 

“A new commandment I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so must you love one another. By this everyone will know you as my disciples; if you love one another.“  
John 13:34-35 

That love is not conditional, it is not exclusionary, it is crystal clear... LOVE EVERYONE. 

Now I can hear a whole bunch of folks who say, “I love the “sinner”, not the sin,” and to that I say, when you accept that we are all made in HIS likeness, how can the love of two people committed to each other be a sin? 

We are loving, when we are unselfish and put others needs before our own. And we are loving, when we appreciate and embrace our differences. 

One of the key components of the argument against Marriage Equality is that it betrays the natural Law and fundamental belief that marriage is for procreation and for the children. I heard a great argument that has stuck with me, answer this question, “If my husband and I were not blessed with our biological children would our marriage be any less of a Sacrament? Would we still not be entitled to the benefits of marriage? All those couples too old, too frail, not able to have children, is their sacramental commitment any different?”

Others argue that Marriage is a Sacrament, because it is a gift from God.  I don’t believe that we pick our spouses, I believe that He has a hand in it.  I think we choose to marry, but through God’s grace we are enabled to find our partners. So why wouldn’t that be true for our Gay and Lesbian siblings. Because you are gay, you are not entitled to God’s grace? We know that is simply not true.

Why is the argument that equality means the dissolution of “traditional” marriage? Perhaps it will give the Sacrament a boost. No valid Sacramental Marriage suffers from the result of a Gay couple's union.  

Instead of worrying about how Marriage Equality may hurt marriage, we should be talking about how it strengthens it. When we offer support and loving embrace, to all marriages, and see that they are forged by God’s loving and powerful grace. The same grace that I benefit from in my marriage.  

So as we look forward, may we continue to be called to be representatives for Christ.

And continue to work to protect all, no matter our views... 

And know that above all, we must LOVE first... 

God Bless,

Kathryn
PilgrimageGal

photo credit: FotoRita [Allstar maniac] via photopin cc

Hammer Moments...

Time is Precious

You know how it feels when you go to an event and you walk in and everyone is so happy to see you and you are treated like a celebrity, you amaze all the guests with your stories, witty repartee and your unquestionable beauty?... Yep, me either.

Have you ever been in a room with countless doctors, nurses, PA’s and med students? Or had multiple doctors say things like: “You may in fact be a new mutation of another disease”, “You may in fact be the only person in the world who has been given this drug and have it show some improvement in treating Cold Urticaria”,  or my favorite... “You are so interesting, would you mind if I bring in my med students to watch?”, or finally,  “The way your body handles this is so unusual, I think we may want to follow you for a while in our research lab”.

Now that last comment was said to me on three occasions, by three unrelated doctors for three separate disciplines.... So goes the beginning of the two day summit at the amazing world class facility at NIH.  PS. Thanks for paying your taxes... I’m very grateful!

When you consider that this Pilgrimage has been going on for a long time, you realize that there are things about yourself....Well that, you are still learning. Some that you are excited to learn, and others that rip your heart out of your body with the whole world to witness.

When you have been poked and prodded by the world’s best, you sometimes realize that you can be de-sensitized by the medical world.  For instance, more folks have seen my naked 190 lb body, than ever even looked twice at my 130 lb body... Oh how I long for that body again.  I have lost count of the times a stethoscope has been used to listen to my lungs... Lord, if I had a dollar for every time that trick was done!  I don’t care if you see my AA’s for the echo, or touch ‘em when you listen to my heart, lungs or whatever. My current body is not the body of old, the one I never realized was so beautiful, the one I took for granted...  

What I do find that amazes me, is how different it is done... I can tell the folks who are checking a box and the ones who are really listening to hear the murmur, or hear the crackle of my lungs with pleurisy.

I also, have long realized that my health was very serious, and that some version of this disease may be what eventually takes my life.  I have worried that we may not find the problem in time to slow down my disease pattern.... That has given me and those who love me some seriously sleepless nights.  And I have worried about what I need my children to learn, while I’m here.

What are the core things about myself that are critical for me to give them? What lessons, beliefs, what stories do I need them to know? The ones I want them too have heard so many times that they will never ever forget.  What places and people will always feel like home because they were my safe places, when this world was hard.

Who are these people that I love, and why do I love them so?

These are the ideas, the values, the stories that are our legacy, and what we are leaving  behind... It’s not the houses, or camps, trips, it’s not the sports or music lessons...

It is us, it’s the exquisite everyday moments we make, when we put down the phone or other electronic device and look into the eyes of our children. We make such a fuss about how our kids need to stop and look at us. But, do we offer them the same courtesy? Do we stop chopping, reading, folding, ordering, and directing to give our loved ones the same. I know,  I’m guilty of it.

My beloved Ian said to me this week, ”Mom stop saying uh, or mmm and please look at me and answer me.”  Well hello hammer moment...

definition:

Hammer Moment

:

verb, from the english

,  A life lesson that hits you square in the face, with a metaphorical hammer. That imparts wisdom, knowledge or provides an education tool. The source of said learning is never expected.

sentence

: My children once again provided me with a hammer moment about parenting.

Writing this little blog is tricky sometimes, because to be authentic, it requires me to talk about the people who matter most to me. My Clive Owen look alike Jeffrey, or my Mom, the beauties, core girls, or my doctors. So I try my very best to respect their privacy while I share my own truth.  It is a balancing act, my closest, nearest and dearest struggle to read what I write. Perhaps, it’s because they are ring-side on the real deal. They see what pain and illness really look like. My Mom sat next to me on the green couch as I cried this week from pain, frustration, worry and guilt about the state of affairs. This pilgrimage is no joke, its real life, and it’s happening in real time for all of us.

I think that explains my urgency, my demands of you the readers, to pay attention to the moments... Don’t waste time.

I feel like one of those crazy people holding a sign... “It’s the end of the word”.

No it’s not, but heaven knows, life is much too short... It’s not about the silly Kardashian's, or whatever Housewives you watch. It’s all here, it’s real and it’s slipping through our fingers faster than we realize...

So even if you are sick like me, try to make it work, find your gifts and share them.

Be present in the lives of those who matter to you.... Be in it.

To put it in perspective, all you need to do is walk through a major medical hospital... It is the culmination of the journey for many of us... It’s our last hope for wellness.

As I walked through the doors at NIH this week, a beautiful 8 year old boy who could have been my Ian, walked in front of me leading the way with a black backpack on his slim frame and his fresh crew-cut... What you could have missed, if you weren't paying attention was that backpack held a long clear tube providing a drug to his body... Likely a drug working to kill cells and mobilize others.

He was leading me toward wellness, running ahead through the lobby...

And I was running, to catch up with his optimism, love and faith...

The divine in me, bows to the divine in you...

Please know that I pray for all of you, as I hope you will pray for me... It is a powerful promise that I don’t take lightly...

photo credit:

matthileo

via

photopin

cc

Agitated...

So let me get it out... I’m grumpy, agitated, irritated and feel miserable... How is that to start the journey... My health stinks and I’m scared, afraid, worried and nervous... There I said it... I go back to my awesome girl power team at NIH this week and get an update on where things are and I’m worried I’ll get answers and also worried I may leave without any...

I have new symptoms that NIH is concerned about, I have massive hair loss, Lifetime TV hair loss, like being in the shower and clumps fall out... Now I realize I can always count on some good hair extensions to rock the chic BH Housewives look... But, it is just another irritation in my life that no girl should have to live through.

As If I didn't win the lottery already, the sweating is so profound that I’m in a full body sweat from loading the breakfast bowls into the dishwasher.... Now that is just stupid, I was on my 4th outfit of the day by 10:30 one day this week. No girl should have to deal with that and I do sometimes have to shower again too.... There is no justice... I’m headed to Target to buy more white t-shirts and cozy pants, and bras.... Who needs expensive, when you change them 4 times a-day!

Soooooooo, that said my pain, the pounding headaches and body fatigue are so debilitating, it has been a soul crushing week... I don’t know how to describe the pain to folks who don’t suffer from it... I have given birth without drugs, while having blood clots in my lungs and nothing feels like this pain. The chest wall pain is so great it hurts to move, to hook a bra is just stupid, and to take deep breaths; well that is just not going on here.

When I told Clive about the hair loss and I was curled up in his t-shirt in bed and said, “Jeff, there is nothing left of me, everything is broken and I’m such a mess....”

And my Jeffrey just turned around and looked at me and said, “I didn’t marry you for the outside that is just the package, I married you for the inside...”

I know you are all jealous... Well that made me cry harder, and I told him to go do something stupid, so I can be mad and not love him so much....

Cause you can’t be in feel sorry for me mode when you have that talking to you. He is all that, all the time... He is the nicest guy on the planet and stupid easy to be married too....

So where do we go from here... We put band-aids on the blisters and we set out again in the morning to find answers and if you see me in Target buying 20 white t-shirts you will know why.

Stop and say hi...

------------

May you find the light on the road as I walk ahead blazing the trail and making the fire. There we can sit, rest a while and talk about the Pilgrimage together. God Bless, and keep walking.

The Pilgrimage is nothing without you and your support.

Please know I pray for all of you ceaselessly.....xo Kathryn

photo credit:

ginnerobot

via

photopin

cc

Love, 3 am Calls, and the One True Love...

Special note:  this is the post I told myself I would never write, the one about my Jeffrey, but it slipped-out... So here is the insight into my very private world, the stuff I usually don't share... But here it is and "share it, I shall" as Master Yoda would say!

----------------------

Who are your 3 am calls? And who is calling you in crisis?  I like to think that even in my lesser state, I'm still on many people's short-list. Now my list of folks that I would roll out of bed for at 3 am is very long... They may never call me, but if they did, no questions asked, I would be wherever and whenever and my people know who they are...

I think it would be a good party theme.... Come celebrate, you are someone I would roll outta bed for at 3 am! Come, celebrate, have a drink and get your t-shirt!  "I'm on Kathryn's 3 am list"...  "She will help me in my hour of need!"

But in all seriousness, that is why making this list is so important. Who are you in-it for? Who matters in your life?  Who do you love?  Your answer is telling; and I think you need to have twice as many people to roll-out of bed for; as would roll-out of bed for you!  This tells you your love quotient... What is your number?, how many people are on these lists?

Who you love and how you love... It is a timeless question.  Are you living openly, are you participating in your life, are you living and loving to your fullness? Or are you a bystander?  Tough questions for everyone,

especially

my warrior sisters.

When my health was just starting to spin out of control... My dear friend got engaged, she was so happy and I was thrilled for her.  She asked of me the most loving request. She asked me to stand in as the celebrant if you will.... Talk about honored.  I have been asked to do some fun things, and some important things; but never asked to share and celebrate the joining of two lives. I was devastated when a few weeks later, I had to pull out of attending her wedding and not join in the happiness to see her marry her husband.

But truthfully, I still have no idea of what she saw in me, to ask me to have such an important job.

I love being married, it is the hardest work you will ever do, but it is the best work you can ever find. When done well, you are better than when you start; and you grow into the person you are called to be.

I believe loving another is so critical.  My definitions of love is wider... I mean are you committed fully to another? 

Now I have had a ringside seat on relationships of every kind that have gone wrong.

And I for a time, I tried to sabotage my own. I call my 20's, my terrible 2's!  It was only when I stopped fighting myself, stopped over-thinking, and realized that Jeffrey and I were unique as ourselves, and what we had was truly ours alone... Not the successes or failures of our parent's relationships... Something Jeffrey understood and I needed to learn...

When I started to find myself, and see what Jeffrey saw in me, I was finally able to really meet myself and my husband. And learn how to be happy...

I married Jeffrey 6 weeks after I turned 22... It is still shocking how young I was, and how little I knew of love at the time. How much I needed to learn and that marriage is about both independence and  interdependence.

Jeffrey is my biggest teacher, the smartest guy in every room, the most patient, humble, and compassionate man. He is what every Mother wishes for her daughter. Gentle and protective husband and father.  On a good day my beloved possesses a 5th grade sense of humor; laughs at my foolishness and delights in my spirit...  He is my world... The love of my life. And without question, I love him more today than yesterday...

I'm very blessed to say that we will be married 21 years this fall...

I see myself today, even in this body that is broken, as having more to offer than I did when I was "healthy".  My illness has transformed me, into a different woman, friend and lover. And without over sharing, my health has made loving more beautiful, more intimate, more intense.  When you and your partner are working to make your love intimate, in a body that is broken, wracked with pain, when breathing, pressure, contact are excruciating... You become cleaver, creative and you find meaningful ways of sharing and loving.

Maybe it's being married forever now, having children, or friendships that are new, and some that are years, and years in the making...

But I have had a paradigm shift about relationships. (I need to add a little caveat here: except in acts of violence, that is not nor will ever be a relationship)

Every encounter is the opportunity for a relationship, and each one has a message, life as scavenger hunt, every person is offering us a clue, a lesson to take, to learn from... The bad ones sometimes have bigger lessons than the good. But each one tells us something about ourselves and where we are going.

That to me is key... I take nothing for granted, nothing... Life moves daily like the tide and sand on the beach. These are the lessons, they don't teach in marriage prep., because there is no way to wrap your head around it, no way to prepare... How life changes, how it moves.

So make you list, make and meet some new 3 am people...

The longer the list, the fuller your life...

Share some love this week...

on your journey...

Kathryn, 

Pilgrimage Gal

Some other notes from the Pilgrimage:

I'm so grateful to all my sister chronic disease sufferers, I'm with you in spirit, thanks for your support on this little journey... 

And to all of you on the road with me...

In an effort to talk to more of you... I added a place on the side to contact me, this sends me a private email for my eyes only... So If you want to reach me that is a great way.

If you love the journey, don't forget to sign-up for my email updates.... you sign-up via your email then you are magically sent a "confirmation email" back. You have to open/click on the confirmation email, if you don't get one check your spam folder. 

I read each and every comment and try my best to answer them all... So please let me know what you think and leave a comment below.

photo credit:

© 2006-2013 Pink Sherbet Photography

via

photopin

cc

Virtual Field Trip....

I was lucky enough to write a guest post on Autoimmune Mom...

It's a happy post that talks about how I make it all work... I know the last post hurt some hearts...

I'm feeling much better today, less pain, open and happy heart looking forward to a four day weekend with the family.....

 Check out this link. And have a great weekend! xo

http://www.autoimmunemom.com/kids-life/mom-advice-raising-kids.html

Perseverance...

This stop on the Pilgrimage is a two-fer, I have emotional and spiritual pain... Both are hard and you don't want them to show at the same time... None the less, they are here and have to be faced.

I have mentioned before that line, "God doesn't give you more than you can handle".  Well that is a lie, and that line is in my Rolodex of Shame... The Rolodex of Shame, is the place where I keep all of the comments from well intended people who say stupid things. You do not want to be in the Rolodex of Shame... Well, because it is shameful...

This line haunts me, and I'm really concerned that the next time I hear it at Mass, I will go up to the priest and lovingly say....

"You good Father, go sit down, I've got this."

Can you even imagine! Promise I won't do it. But it is on my dream list.

Because many days the pain, the suffering, it is much more than I can handle. It is way more than my family, my children, can endure, I try as best as I can to put a smile-on; and remind myself that there are people who are suffering and have problems far worse than mine. While that is very true, I don't want to be in the business of minimizing my reality.

This burden, this brokenness of body, is heavy and far from light.  That is what makes a Pilgrimage hard. You journey in all weather, you get blisters, you are sore from your pack, you are hot in the sun, cold in the wind and rain. But, you continue walking, because you have a path and a plan. Because, I'm always trying to find the spiritual-silver lining. To be optimistic and see the good...

The girls in my 'hood on a warm night love to sneak onto each others porches for a quick glass of wine; this is where we catch-up on the week.  Many who visit my post-WWII 'hood, with our brick colonials nestling next to each other, think we are right out of the '50s. We rarely knock, and everyone knows each other. And when you can't find a child, or an adult; your first inclination isn't panic, you just look in the kitchen or yard next door. Not what you would expect in a bedroom community of Washington, DC. in 2013.

My Jeffrey rolled home early on Friday; and while my body wanted me to just stay on the couch, my spirit wasn't going to miss Friday night greetings. So as I walked in the front door of one house, to cut through the  backyard to the hostess', I realized that the 100 ft and the natural unevenness of the backyard terrain was trickier than normal, and I was shaking... My body was firing off an internal memo reminding me that it was not cleared for this adventure.

That's pain for you, it's the thief, that robs you...  And I was having none of it.

My girlfriends, saw me unsteady, shaky, as I found the first chair. The glass of water I drank, well it felt like the oasis in the desert. None of this was good news;  I knew instantly,  I would need twenty minutes just to have the strength to walk home. My girls faces turned from happy clinking wine glasses, to a group of worried faces; during my quick week update. When I told everyone, I was fine, and I was absolutely fine. "Fine", meant I wasn't going to pass-out, and I would walk myself home...

One of my girls said, "I hope you are offering up this suffering for something/someone really good..." And that got me thinking; was I, doing that or something different?  As Catholics, we believe that suffering is the opportunity to encounter the Divine. Without question, Christ on the cross is suffering, and we also look at the role models of our church the Saints.  Not many of them got off easy, they all suffered, some tremendously. 

And that through suffering, we find the Gift, that without the pain or struggle, we would miss this opportunity of spiritual enlightenment.

Can I just say, I was very happy drinking a diet coke, would prefer not answering the call to "enlightenment". I have a wonderful marriage, beautiful children who occasionally listen, and a great life. I'm good, thanks.

First, not sure I buy this call to Enlightenment.  I'm not so sure I have much to offer... And also, I'm not sure that I want the gift that suffering has to offer.

I want my life back.

I don't want to make lemonade any longer, I wold prefer to drink tequila...

Can we be really honest, when you are vomiting in the toilet from pain, curled up in bed begging people not to touch you or your bed because the vibration hurts.  How do we resolve life, when anger, frustration and disappointment are so present. Or when YOUR body is racked, with such pain that you are short and lacking patience with loved ones.

I wonder if this pain in my body is so much worse because; it's my body that pulled-up stakes on me... It is my body that quit, when my spirit, and will to fight has only gotten stronger... It's a deep betrayal and it's personal. And there is no outside force to occasionally lay the blame on.... It is all mine...

When I planned my life with Jeff, this was never what was planned... EVER. And frankly, I'm pissed about it... God's Silver-Lining?... Because I can't seem to find the return receipt to give it back and get to my "real" life...

It's at these moments, when life is too hard, that I'm grateful to have faith.

To feel in my heart that these moments of desperation and frustration are temporary, all too 

human and deserved, don't last long.  It is my body's cry for help under the weight of pain.  I  WILL  find peace in a short time and these days of spiritual pain will heal.

It is a great comfort that God can take my anger and frustration.  I never envision God as this all white light filled being of Art and Religious books of my youth. I don't picture him in robes filled with gold. I see a gentle beautiful man best described like a St. Francis of sorts, ageless, and timeless.  When I raise my voice and complain about what ails me, drop a bad word or two.  I see that face with the glint in his eye as he looks at me and smiles, "You done?" And then we have tea and chat. That is how I see God.  I see his humanity, I see his simplicity, his calm, and that is why I'm drawn to him.  The silence in the storm.

So while I'm in this quicksand, I will find my footing, and find the peace that both my body and spirit need.  I will find the Divine, in my children, my friends, in communion, and feel the loving arms of my husband. These are the gifts... The lifelines that pull me along, when I'm too tired to continue.  Maybe that is just what the Gift of Suffering is.... Perseverance.

That is why I can smile at the warm breeze of summer, and delight in the happy sounds of basketball on the street. They are my reminders of normal. That it will come...  You see, I see the face of the Divine, everyday, in my children, in my husband, in my mail carrier, who smiles and says daily, "I'm praying for you girl, don't sweat it."  It is all around us, the simplicity of our life, not the fame or the money. 

The gifts are found in how much we are loving the people we are called to serve.

Do I know that the shot will settle in? Yes, absolutely!  And it will create more good days than the pain can cause me to suffer.  I'm an optimist, we can not call ourselves hopeful people otherwise.

Thank you for joining me on the Pilgrimage.

Kathryn, the PilgrimageGal

photo credit:

toolmantim

via

photopin

cc</

If you would like to join me on this pilgrimage, filled with my bad spelling, self-invented grammar, and over all foolishness…  Click on the web version of this post and look for the “GET PILGRIMAGEGAL UPDATES VIA EMAIL” option at the top of the right border and enter your email address.

The Mothers We May Overlook...

Easter our "formal "portrait...

As we prepare for Mother's Day, I thought I would share a few words about Moms...

I'm reminded of the opening montage of the movie "Love Actually" where you see the arrivals at Heathrow airport, all these folks so happy to see their loved ones... The film's directors actually set up cameras and got real people arriving into the arms of loved ones. It is so simple the way we love, when we open our hearts to the people who matter, see the perfect love in their eyes, it's true love... And perfect... Everything else, well it melts away... The piddly-stuff and foolish worries...

I think that's why a mother's love is so profound, it melts all the other stuff away, I see it in my own children, and see it in the lives that matter most to me... The touch of a mother is everlasting.

That first time you hold your child, it's like a love flood... You have waited and waited for this child... I think of my girls who have adopted, that moment they have longed for, and suffered for, all the different pains and then the moment... The moment that girl holds that baby in her arms...

The world stops for longer than an instant and we are all transformed.

I've been so fortunate to be in the hospital, after girls I love have had their babies; and its that magical and powerful moment.  I also have shared some private moments, with friends that are painful and grace filled all at the same time... But in all of these moments, I'm moved by the fact that as women, we really do shape the world. And without our touch we all would be lost.

What a blessing, to be surrounded by girls who do the Mom thing right... From the Moms who care for their children's chronic diseases and make it all seem "normal".  To the girls, who are caregivers for there Moms and their families all at the same time... To the women who are mothers, but never had children.... These women are the truest mothers in all of us... The women who have taken vocations of service, or marriage or have remained single, but they have never forgotten a birthday, are always the ones you call when you are in a pinch, are as comfortable doing your laundry as their own and are out running the free world... You know these quiet mothers.... We all have this woman; who save us, or saved us as kids, filled in for the brokenness in our own families...

The female doctors and nurses in my life and the religious sisters who taught me service and unfailing love of  faith.  Doctors, nurses and nuns are cut from the same cloth... They share all your moments; both offer comfort and a safety that you only find with the sisterhood of women.  They get it all, because they do it all... They don't get the luxury of saying, "I'm busy." They are both bound by vows of service, daily putting other's needs above their own.

That's Motherhood in its most basic form.

And as women we all do that....

So this Mother's Day, as we are loved with burnt toast and warmish tea... Remember the silent Mothers among us, the ones who have our backs, raise our children, and bless us with their selfless love....

They are our Mothers too... 

Happy Mother's Day...

The Divine in me bows to the Divine in you....

Kathryn, the Pilgrimage Gal....

Having a Monday on a Monday...

Finding peace in the pain...

My wonder shot is causing some issues, my team at NIH is trying to sort out if  I'm in a flare, or having a reaction underneath the shot... Can we just be honest, none of  that is good news, or at all easy to tolerate!  Pain, headaches, nausea, and did I mention pain, and an unbelievable desire to scrub away all my flesh, for some relief from the itching of hives... Sorry to be so blunt.

My team is unstoppable, so no worries, we will get good answers in a few hours, but my beauties had the day-off, I'm in bed and my beloved is home from work... Everyone is having a Monday!

Yesterday, two of my adorable neighbors received their First Holy Communion, a beautiful day in the Catholic Church. Second graders put on their beautiful white dresses and receive the Body of Christ for the first time. It is a day of celebration, and I love it!  But this year, I missed it... It was not to be, I spent the day in bed, waiting for news on the Mass from my peeps.

Waiting and pain seem to go hand and hand for me, not always the best bed fellows, but the ones, I'm forced to make peace with.  And peace we do, because without peacefulness, we are all disasters:  we are angry, bitter, and more importantly alone.  And when our life is at its most difficult, we can't be alone. We need our spiritual nourishment, we need the constancy of faith... Because in the chaos, is silence, and when you can reach the eye of the storm, for just a minute you find the peace in the pain.

How do I do it?... I shut it all down, I climb into bed, stop and listen to her (my body). Listen, to what I'm trying to so desperately ignore and let her tell me the sad truth, the truth I can't bear to hear... This body is more broken than I let on, she is starved for rest and balance, and she needs to find the silence.

That very message, for 14 days I have turned off, pushed through, laughed at, and attempted to forget. You see I won the medical lottery, I had the golden ticket, I had THE SHOT, I was going to leave this sad diseased body behind and make my own Bionic Woman.... But, my beautiful body had news for me... Not so much, she said.

When will I ever learn;  you can't run away from the things we don't like about ourselves... We have to love them more... To care for the brokenness, it is our true and honest gift,  our  brokeness is our humanity, our real truth. And it is the gift that we try to neglet, ignore and push to the side... We fail our gift, we fail to see that it is what makes us unique, beatuiful and perfect in God's eyes.

We are the gift... Why do we try so hard to ignore it?

My real truth is not the high-heel, ponytail, scotch drinking, set the biz world on fire girl... The real truth is the loving, green tea drinking me, that sometimes spends too much time in pj's. That can't always wear a bra because the pain in my ribs.... so debilitaing that I can't breathe... Within that pain is my ability to love at its most basic level, it's the me that does't judge, but just loves, it tollerates the imperfect.... It is in that space...  my soul sustains me, it basks in the light of Christ, not the girl running for the fences, trying to be everything to everyone...

And frankly, as we approach Mother's Day, that is not the girl; I want to teach my children... I need to remember that Christ is always hanging with the less desirable, the imperfect and that in my brokenness is the real me, the girl searching for balance, finding peace, letting go of perfection and just being myself...

So curled up in bed, writing with an open heart, I'm reminded again to look for the Devine in my brokeness... To embrace her...

Embrace the gifts, I'm blessed to have...

And as always the the Devine in me bows to the Devine in you...

xo,

Kathryn the Pilgrimage Gal

photo credit:

T.MoE

via

photopin

cc

Please leave a comment.  After you type your comment in the "comment as" pull down, simply choose "anonymous", if you don't have or want to use the other log in options.  Thanks!

Picking Your Team...

Working together to achieve wellness...

When you are managing a chronic disease or suddenly diagnosed with a major health crisis, it takes more than a village to keep you healthy… It takes a tactical army; of friends, doctors,  therapists and great cooks…

My therapist is a Sister of the Holy Names, so in my case I have a therapist who is an expert on medical issues, families with chronic disease, but she is also my unofficial spiritual director… So in one pick I scored a two-fer, and she is my rock next to Jeffrey. She gets life so beautifully and cuts through the foolishness, is action oriented, and gives great hugs. That is a double win in my book.

She gave me a lovely compliment this week; she told me that she didn't know anyone who had assembled a better team… Which made me think, how do you assemble a great team?

Assembling this team has been a process for years, but this core group has been solid for several years… The key to my team, they all understand two fundamentals of my wellness:

First:  My husband Jeffery is my whole world and our children are our life

. We were married 10 years before we started our family. We grew into our marriage, I had to grow-up and then we were ready to start our family.  And it was the best decision we made and as a couple now married over 20 years; our choices work...

Second

:

I don’t want someone to just make me feel better; I want someone who demands I get better. 

Big difference in this statement… It requires both action and commitment.

When you identify what you are striving for, not just feeling better, but true wellness, it becomes tangible. All of my goals are based on these principles… Medicines, procedures, tests, appointments… How many flipping times have I had to give my medical history… But, it’s a step, a rock we turn over, it moves us down the road… It's more training for this marathon we call life.

Every step is moving me towards wellness, I believe that… I have a clear idea of what wellness is…. Will I be the girl I was before all this, NOPE… Never again… I will have limits… 

What I am is fearless, and unbreakable in spirit. Because every person who is welcomed onto my team gets instantly my two guiding principles… It’s that simple… If you are not on team Kathryn, you are lovingly retired and not welcomed back.

You learn that chronic disease is designed for the TYPE A… We are the only ones who will not curl-up and die under the weight of the pain... We learn how to survive and we flourish… My Hawaiian girl stopped by yesterday and we had a lovely chat, while our girls worked on their fairy garden, she said that she loved my “spirit” (so many compliments in a week.) But what she loves is my optimism… If you don’t have faith in wellness, you will NEVER EVER be well…

Many of these team members/players need whole posts on how to select them… Today I'm going to focus on forming the team:

Doctors:

 you need one, in my case two, Go-to doctors… The doctors who get you, know who you are, your priorities, your symptoms, tell you the hard truth and see you as a person not a disease. Now here is the thing, this is a relationship and like all relationships they require a lot of work, respect, and a ton of humor.

TIP: You know you are in the presence of a Go-to doctor when they say, “I’m out of answers or I don’t know, I've never seen this before… But, I know a person...”  And then: They make the call, send the email, get you the appointment.

Go-to docs have two jobs: manage your day to day and be the conduit for outside help when they run out of answers. My Go-to’s are not my primary physician, I still see her once/twice a year for check-ups, but my Go-to are specialists. One is an immunologist/allergist the other is a pulmonologist/critical care. They are the ones who use their relationships to find me experts on my health issues, they call in favors, make demands of colleagues and fight to get me access to the best the world has to offer.

And I LOVE my Go-to's… My Go-to lost some points and colleague's support by going over the heads of some folks to get me “in-to” the guy she wanted me to see.  That is the amazing support of my Go-to doctors... They go above and beyond, just to help me.

Therapist:

 Your therapist is the other leg on a three leg stool, your Go-to’s are one leg, you and your supports are another, and your Therapist, well mine stands alone…

Because she is soooo important. 

Picking the right one is possibly the most important member of your team, she will be with you for a long time, she knows all your issues is often your co-pilot on sorting things out.

My requirements

 are very simple… I don’t want someone to hold my hand and dry my tears;  I want someone who is in-it with me to get answers.

Simple also means… Direct.  You should leave every appointment with a to-do list, homework, what you need to get done. You need tangible goals… If you have a therapist that wants you to just smell the roses and pass you tissues… You need to run like hell… You are much too busy for that brand of foolishness, time is not your friend, you have to have  urgency

 to find wellness. You need to have action oriented steps, plans, goals objectives.

Sometimes my homework is to rest, take care of my body… Other times it is to get my team mobilized for the next hospital and next specialist.  She is often the sounding board to my new ideas, plans and goals. She is also the one who helps me shape my "new reality" of what wellness means, how you live happily in the brokenness.

Your therapist does many things, she is an impartial viewer of you… 

Sometimes she has a better gauge on where I am; than I do… I get so mired in my own stuff; and she helps me sort-through it. Now listen, I do believe that therapy is vital when facing a chronic or serious disease.  I have had frank conversations with both my doctors and my therapist to say, “listen if I’m doing something psychological to make myself sick, then we need to find that too… because I want to be well.”  You have to be willing to look at every aspect of your life. Likewise you want your therapist to say, “Kathryn this is not in your head, your body is broken, we will find answers, you are doing the work.”

That is demanding wellness, not just making me feel better…

Spiritual Direction

and Spiritual Guide, your own personal Yoda:

We all need a Yoda, the person who guides us to the “Force” and leads you to your spiritual center. I have been in a women’s prayer group for eight years, drop in on another,  I practice   yoga, meditation, along with an active prayer life. Also, I have a life-long family friend that I call regularly to talk about matters of faith… And then I have my therapist. Your mental health is equal to spiritual heath in all matters … You need to constantly grow this side of your life… 

You must find peace in the foolishness….

Having

a spiritual guide is one of the best investments and she is easy to find… All you need to do is take an inventory of the folks in your life. The person who is always at peace in the hurricane of life? That is where you start… Ask her how she does it? Where does she go? Who does she talk with? Chances are high she does not do this in isolation. And if she does, well she is a saint. So hold on to her!

In the Catholic church, priests and nuns have relied on Spiritual Directors, a kind of spiritual  teacher/guide. The job of a Spiritual Director is simple--help you draw closer to God. You can find both formal or informal guides.  For some, you’re therapist may be able to provide you with a two-fer, like I have, or you may find that your minister or other faith leader may provide you with the tools to fit your life and lifestyle… 

Please, don’t over look this part of your team… Spiritual Direction allows you to grow in so many amazing avenues. When you open the door to this idea, it won’t take long to find your path… You may find that when you are open, the guide will appear.

Your Three AM call

… and your fairy godmothers:

This job falls on a several different girls in my life. This job is the one, when you are really sick you call this friend at 3 am.... They come running and my True Love takes me to the hospital.

This friend comes over in pj’s and sleeps with your kids when you are admitted. She makes pancakes in pj’s, watches tv, and has unlimited hugs, loves till the day or night gets sorted out.

This job also requires creating out of thin air, carpools, play dates, AND world class entertainment, when I was too sick to lift my head.

My list also includes my extended "created" family…. This is for the non-biological members of my family, who are just as important as our "real" family… Jeff and I could not survive without this branch of our clan… 

They are most evident in my

Fairy Godmothers…

The fairy godmothers are the women in my life who are my soul-sisters, who drop their very busy lives, jobs, spouses and roll-in and make the magic happen… They come when my True Love travels, they nurse me, Loooord they feed me sooooo good, and how they love my beauties… It makes me weep just talking about them...

Fairy Godmothers sprinkle the fairy dust... And I rest, sleep and curl up under their beautiful wings… I get to bask in their sunshine. No one has better Fairy Godmothers than I do, and my kids about die when my A-listers roll into town… These women, are the best of the best… 

This year we were blessed to have Norah’s godmother Jane and my stunningly beautiful soul-sister Shelly, both came for a week when I was too sick to do much of anything. What makes their arrival so special is they make the time beautiful, fun, seamless and my beauties forget that I'm sick, Dad's away and life is hard... My FG's have known me so intimately for so long, that they can run my household the way I want to and that creates calm and fun…. Which makes it all work for everyone… And it’s a huge help for Jeffrey, because he doesn't have to worry about us and he can drink a beer, watch the game in his hotel and work.

So this is what I mean when I say I have a small army… All of this would be nothing without my Jeffrey and my Mom, who almost daily drops life to help her baby… I am constantly surrounded by my Army of team Kathryn… All searching for the goal of wellness…

In my upcoming posts queue, I will discuss how you find your doctors… The supports at school for my kids... How communication with your team is critical, and more on spirituality/faith,  my thoughts on what wellness really means. I would also like to talk about what causes me stress as a Mom with an autoimmune disease... All that and so much more as we roll into spring and summer… 

If you have any ideas, suggestions or questions, please leave a comment, or don’t hesitate to contact me directly via email at pilgrimagegal "AT" gmail "dot" com.

As always, thank you for walking along on this Pilgrimage with me... 

The Divine in me bows to the Divine in you...

Kathryn the Pilgrimage Gal

photo credit:

rexboggs5

via

photopin

cc

If you would like to join me on this pilgrimage, filled with my bad spelling, self-invented grammar, and over all foolishness…  Click on the web version of this post and look for the “GET PILGRIMAGEGAL UPDATES VIA EMAIL” option at the top of the right border and enter your email address.

Holding Back the Tears…

One Day of Blissful Perfection.

I’m typing this Saturday night after the busiest two days I have had in years… Just doing normal Mom stuff; picking up kids, attending practices, having lunch with my Mom and walking two blocks to a friend’s house…

This is more than I have done in a long time. Toss that on top of a trip to NIH that in the past put me in bed for days and it is just short of a miracle. My life has changed profoundly in three days all because of a little needle I have been putting in my leg every morning… A treatment, if it works may cost $250,000 a year. No words for that… (Except pray that our insurance covers it…)

How do you say the word “improvement”, when that has not been in my vocabulary for seven years…? I don’t like to make comparisons, but it is as if I have been unable to walk and suddenly stood on my own… I have never been so happy that one of my doctors was out of town, because I can hear Harvard now… “Kathryn, please just take it easy, don’t overdo- it…” To which I lovingly want to say, “Are you kidding me!” “Seriously?!” We all have been waiting and praying for improvement. Now as I write this tonight, I’m in serious pain, and I hurt everywhere, clearly the marks of overdoing…

I’m like the contestants on Survivor during a food challenge… They know they are going to throw-up because they have been living off bugs and rice; but the chocolate cake and pizza just taste too good… That’s where I am…

I will gladly trade the pain for the ability to Live… Norah told our neighbor, “Ever since Mom went to NIH, she has been awesome!” Out of the mouth of my baby… Truth!

But it is also scary… I’m so scared, truly frightened, I have tasted something that I had forgotten was possible… I forgot what it was like to be my effervescent self… I have not had a day like today in a long time… Where I simply loved and lived my life…

So I’m scared; maybe it was a placebo effect, maybe my spirit wanted something so badly that my mind has created this illusion… Or maybe the awful side-effects will roll in tomorrow…

What if….?

The two words that wreck us every time… So as I sit in my bed, exhausted, and feeling so blessed that my Norah faded on this day before I did…. That I have had a miracle day… I will take it, even if it is just for today…

My blessed miracle… Today was perfection and I’m grateful. 

I do believe in miracles… Maybe just maybe, this one is for me…

PilgrimageGal

photo credit:

-RejiK

via

photopin

cc

Connecting the Dots...

Following the right path...

Pilgrimage Gals's guide and day to day tips on managing chronic disease.

Friday was a PJ day… I try to make time for days of rest. And that also means, I don’t beat myself up about it. I accept it. 

Acceptance makes everything easier....on my mind, body, spirit.  I didn’t do too much today… I mean I did nothing… My accomplishments: brushed teeth, took my meds, kissed my family good-bye or should I say they kissed me! With my cup of Irish breakfast tea, I curled back into my bed. After my lovely nap, I had a bite to eat, and changed my clothes...a t-shirt with a cozy sweater to keep me warm. My bra got a day off too, thanks inpart to my famous cough, for making my ribs so painful my whole body ached. My beauties (children) got home at 3, they were happy to see me clean and awake as I handed out Friday afterschool treats…

I have a very wise advisor in my life, and she told me, “Kathryn, you are a tough one, you have a very high pain threshold, a very high depression threshold, a very high anxiety threshold… So when you start to feel those feelings, you need to pay very close attention.” 

That means in my world, if those thoughts and feelings are moving in, a HUGE warning light is going off… The reactor is overheating, so when I feel that stress on my body, it means I need to slow the heck down.  When the reactor light is flashing, and the alarms in my body are going off, I need to quickly shut it all down, batten down the hatches, maybe even raise the white flag and call for reinforcements (

I’ve got a post on that

)… 

I volunteer for an auction committee for my kid’s school. Every other year, we have a big Gala Night, where we get dressed-up and raise money. Being on the committee, I work all along leading up to the big night. But the morning of the event, I’m at home watching tv, and the day after, I’m home in pjs. I can’t help with set-up and tear down. But I’m way up front at the committee meetings, I say flat out what I can’t do, followed by what I will do. And I don’t feel bad at all about not helping, because I have done my part. And yes, I’m the only one on the committee who is not there the day before and after… But, I’m a part of the team, I contribute. Never has anyone said anything, but good stuff about my team work… I make my abilities speak for what I can do, not for what my body can’t.

In a former life, I worked for Starbucks Coffee in Seattle as a Project Manager for most of the products sold at retail. I managed the timelines for the production of: coffee bags, packaged foods, CDs of music, shopping bags, the coffee cups you drink out of every day; and so much more… It was my job to make sure artwork got delivered on time so the product made delivery deadlines… It was the perfect job for an over achieving type A in her 20’s. But the most important lesson I learned, whether talking to senior executives or vendors, is to manage expectations, never overpromise, and if you do, have a really good back-up plan. 

Now remember, calamities occur, we are all imperfect, but this biz strategy has helped me more than once or twice in the last few years as my personal health issues became way more complicated than a Starbucks product roll out…

You see, I have learned how to manage the unmanageable. And that is by no means a small task. My business experience, my life as a mother and all around busy girlness, have helped me come up with this road map… Hopefully some of them work for you…

So here is my checklist. My strategy for getting through a week, fighting the good fight.

1. Every Sunday night look at your planned activities for the week; and decide which are critical and which are not.

For example, scheduled doctor’s appointment, school field trip, therapy session, grocery store run, planned dinners for the week, lunch with friends, kids’ activities.

Not everything has the same value. And it is highly likely that you cannot do everything on that list. You must pick ONE thing as the most important. And you don’t get to change the activity after you have accomplished it. It is the key to success for the week. Now here is the thing, only you can decide, not your kids, not your beloved, not your parents… You must own this choice. Maybe it’s going on the field-trip, maybe it’s the lunch or probably it’s the doctor appointment. You are in control of the choice. I also have a very strict rule in my house about the weekend. I can only commit to one social event on a weekend. Meaning I can’t do dinner out on Friday night and then do a Saturday antiquing trip with my girls. I have to pick one or the other. My body is not in the shape to do multiple events on a weekend. And in keeping this schedule, you have to be honest with your body, about its strengths and limitations.

2. Plan for at least two unexpected “surprises”, a sick child, a fun unplanned lunch, spouse working late.

Life will always intrude and be more complicated than you expect. So leave room in your schedule and your energy reserve to handle these surprises.

3. Plan for mandatory rest periods.

If I have a doctor appointment, pick-up new meds, and hit the grocery store. My afternoon better be on the couch, with nothing planned till the kids get home. And that means feet-up, blanket-out, and pillow ready. Relaxing… No laundry, no calls, no social media… Nothing, but rest. 

4. Schedule in something nice for yourself everyday.

Maybe it’s a warm bath, or swim at the pool, or a long walk,  reading a book, or getting your nails done, or watching that special tv show, picking up flowers while at the store as a  reward for a successful day. Some little thing that makes you feel special, beautiful, nurtured, loved… Something you do to care for yourself.

5. Make time for your spiritual journey DAILY.  

This is as important as taking your meds, or going to the doctor. As you all know, I’m Catholic so for me that is prayer and Mass. But in addition, it is listening to music, meditation, reading a faith based book or scripture, writing in a journal, doing yoga, taking a walk in nature, attending my prayer group. I also receive daily emails from faith blogs that I follow, they always have a question that I can reflect on during my day or in prayer.

Any avenue in which you are open to seeking the divine.  It is different for everyone, talk to the girls in my prayer group and you will get as many different answers as girls in the room. My Flower Girl, does the flowers for our church, which is its own kind of prayer. 

6. Take time to eat well and exercise.

I have a love affair with sugar; it’s my dirty little secret. When I eat too much, I feel sick. When I eat clean and fresh with little to no processed foods, I feel better. I have been gluten free for 7 yrs. I don’t have celiac, but I’m sure that I have a sensitivity. As for exercise, that is really hard for me. My issues make it very hard to exercise right now. I try to do my best, yoga, walking when I can. Just try to move… Every good choice helps…

7. Don’t ever lie to yourself.

That is a huge one for all of  us… Folks who fight chronic disease are warriors, we fight every single day, we keep the world running for our family, and friends… We are tough… So you may lie to others about how you are, but don’t lie to yourself. Take care of you, your soul, your mind, your broken body... That is the only way to stay strong for everyone else…

This was a different kind of post for me… I hope everyone can find a little gem to take away for their own life… Some of these items need whole posts just for them… But it’s a start.

What’s on your list?

Namaste... The Divine in me bows to the Divine in you...

Kathryn 

Pilgriamgegal

photo credit:

Vainsang

via

photopin

cc

If you would like to join me on this pilgrimage, filled with my bad spelling, self-invented grammar, and over all foolishness…  Click on the web version of this post and look for the “GET PILGRIMAGEGAL UPDATES VIA EMAIL” option at the top of the right border and enter your email address.

What Makes a Great Day...

Spring... Finally...

Today is the most beautiful day in 2013, our first real sighting of a lasting spring… And the third day in a row that I have held it together, meaning I accomplished my goals for the day.  The weather helps and makes moving around tons easier.  My doors and windows are open, my outside fountain was turned on… and I lived. 

It’s time to discuss what it means to achieve a daily goal… My goals today: drive and shop at the grocery store, and to manage my doctor’s appointment… Alone. 

That is all I did, and to me that is a huge success. I also made my own lunch (which was an amazing salad with club soda), did some laundry, returned some calls, made snack for the kids after school, helped with homework, started dinner, watched over showers and bedtime rituals, cleaned and tidied the house a wee bit and finally sat down to write a post.  

Now if you were reading clearly, here is what I didn't do: Get the kids ready for school, make lunches, breakfast, drive carpool, pull a lunch/playground shift, drive carpool home, make dinner, do dishes…

And that is “A OK”,  in my book, I have shifted my priorities, I have embraced what works for me and I have also made peace with what I can accomplish in this body.  

I do plan-ahead for the busy week, knowing that the wave of unrelenting fatigue can come at any time… But I also triumph in my good days… Today fit the bill, and I loved it and lodged it into my list of beautiful memories, my exquisite moments… 

A good day also means possibly stepping down off medicines, or maybe it means that the meds are holding me steady, that I’m finally stable, I’m managed… These are all safe words for us… Those who battle this war within… 

When I was a teen we had the most glam neighbor, her name was Molly, she was from Kentucky and she was in her 70s when I was in my teens. She had been married to her husband for 50 yrs. and they still looked and acted like lovers in their 20s… They were the real “Notebook” couple with none of the drama. Molly gave me lots of practical advice; I would sit and drink lemonade in my school uniform while she worked in her flower garden… 

She and her beloved would garden and work hard outside, and at 5, she would step inside and come back out with Waterford champagne flutes and they would drink good champagne in their muddy garden clothes. Later she would go inside, shower, dress and make this amazing dinner. She would serve a four course meal, more wine, crystal, candles and china on the back patio, listening to music and they would delight in the garden and each other… 

It was from watching them, teachers of marriage, that I learned the best lesson of my life, which is; drink champagne on Tuesday… Celebrate the normal… Celebrate the everyday… 

Don’t wait for a special occasion, celebrate the sunshine or a bunch of flowers at the store, a nice phone call, an A on the spelling test or better yet celebrate the B-… Or a successful day in the garden... Delight in the everyday, in the normal; because when life is bumpy, you will long for the simple, for the normal…

So that is why I celebrate today.

Because, today was perfect!

I went to the store and got to the doctors and my family is safe, happy and really tired… 

It was a great day…

Hope yours was too… 

Kathryn

PilgrimageGal

photo credit: Kathryn Ferguson

If you would like to join me on this pilgrimage, filled with my bad spelling, self-invented grammar, and over all foolishness…  Click on the web version of this post and look for the “GET PILGRIMAGEGAL UPDATES VIA EMAIL” option at the top of the right border and enter your email address.

The Elephant in Every Room...

The Elephant in Every Room...

The Elephant in Every Room... How are you feeling and other lovely questions...

I have had a beautifully busy last few weeks. I have attended dinner parties, birthday parties, a fabulous sparkling water and wine club with the girls, and some fantastic chats on the green sofa. And I'm struck by a common thread... I'm losing my conversational edge... No, really, I don't know how to do social chit-chat.

On my red pen list of things I'm doing wrong: I'm struggling with how to handle well wishes... How crazy is that?  And I know my friends often struggle with the same... 

These days any social encounter, a quick stop at a store, or just being out and about, I'm treated like a celebrity. People are surprised to see me, so they flock to me to say hello, and I LOVE IT!  Nothing makes someone who has a chronic illness feel better than friends and loved ones who are happy to see you... It fills your soul with an extra energy boost. I'm seldom alone on these outings; and I seem to always have a beauty or two with me, and they smile and hold a hand, happy too, to have me out-and-about!

But inevitably the question comes, "How are you feeling?", and it's a hard-one to answer, because usually it has taken all my energy to be anywhere... For instance at Easter, so many friends gave me hugs, love and told me I looked great and asked, "How are things?" and I didn't know what to say. I either make a joke about my magical make-up skills that cover the dark bags under my eyes and horrible pale skin.  I used the make-up line, five or six times... Or I say "fine", which is a lie; or my gran-daddy answer "horrible", or I say "good-enough", because that is all I have. All of these answers seem wrong or lacking...

My Sunshine Girl always asks me in the most loving way, maybe it's because she is Sunshine...  She asks: "Is it a good day?", and I love that question, it's not about my body, or my mind, or my spirit, it's about all of me... And that works for some reason. Because it gives me more ways to answer. And my answers are more than just how my body is working... Sunshine doesn't even know she asks it that way, it's just how her spirit works, open and honest. It gives me the chance to say it's a perfect day, because my beauty just sang in the choir, or  it's a great day because the sun is out and it feels great on my skin. Or I got to the cake store and we are in the possession of some amazing ingredient... You see, I'm the first one to tell people when I have great news or I feel good...

Now if you are someone who has asked me, "How are you doing/feeling?", don't beat yourself up... I catch myself asking people all the time, to friends who are ill, have parents that are sick, and then I get in the car and kick myself, I know this is not an easy question with a quick answer. Or classic/favorite: ask a pointed question with kids standing around, done that more than a few times too... I'm the one who has the illness; the expert. Nice...

We just all want to fix what is broken, our hearts and minds act so differently... Our hearts won't tolerate the pain of a loved one, and we can't settle in our hearts suffering of any kind. To solve the problem, we allow our mind to act as the "fixer". How are you? What can I do?How can we fix the problem? Men hold doctorates in this. Men are hardwired to fix, that's why women get so frustrated; we want them to listen and feel... And we are all too aware, not everything can be fixed. 

There is nothing wrong about any of it... And sometimes it's fine to ask, when I'm alone... But some days you just want to give your chronic disease a holiday, and you from always being known as the sick girl.

Go back to my celebrity analogy for a second, you wouldn't go up to Meryl Streep if you saw her in a restaurant with her kids having a family meal to say, "Hi, I'm your biggest fan, can I have your autograph and talk about your theory on acting"... Listen, I'm not trying to say I'm a zillion time Oscar winner, or I'm better than anyone else... I'm just saying, sometimes Meryl wants to be Mom, wife, girlfriend, not Academy Award wining actress...

Does this make sense at all? Or do I sound like some crazy snob? That is not my point, and if that is your takeaway, I have completely failed in this post. It's just, I'm so happy to be out and about, I want to talk about you, your family, can we gossip about shoes, spring trends, or kids?  Normal stuff and give my chronic disease a day off... 

And to be honest, sometimes I worry that I have lost my cocktail party banter, that I can't talk about anything else...

But, I do understand, it's a double edge sword, because I/we/all chronically ill folks, don't want to be forgotten, and do want you to ask how we are... So it is a fine line... At times, I'm more worried about you, I don't want you to be disappointed when I tell you that my life is hard, and my pain is really bad, and I'm going to be in bed in an hour because I gave all my energy away... 

I do love a quick email that says, "give it to me, what is the latest", and I will speak my truth if you come over for tea, and we have an hour to visit. 

There is no magical answer.  And I know that it is more about me and how I react to the question, then the question itself.

But, I can tell you what friends have said that I have cherished: the extra hug that says, "you look beautiful", "The kids are so happy, don't worry", "This event was better just because we got to see your face", "I love seeing you on my couch, (and I don't care you are in PJ's)", "Jeff is always smiling with the kids", "I'm so touched you made it, thank you", "I've got this spot on the sofa for you and a blanket", or just the knowing smile that says, you rock Kathryn and I'm all in with you.

This post feels heavy handed, and I don't want it too... We all just want life to be normal again, but that may not be possible.  So this is what normal for me looks like today... 

It all can change in an instant... 

I heard this quote on the news, I wish I had the source; but it's too good not to share:

"Good things are coming, they are already planned for you!" 

Well alrighty then... Lets get to the getting...

More than any post I have written, I want your feedback... So please share your thoughts, your challenges with love ones or your experiences with chronic disease.

And please, feel free to share this post. Sometimes just pulling the curtain back and talking about the Elephant in the Room, helps us all...

Namaste (the divine in me, bows to the divine in you)

xo,

Kathryn

The P

ilgrimage Gal

photo credit:

David W. Siu

via

photopin

cc

If you would like to join me on this pilgrimage, filled with my bad spelling, self-invented grammar, and over all foolishness…  Click on the web version of this post and look for the “GET PILGRIMAGEGAL UPDATES VIA EMAIL” option at the top of the right border and enter your email address.

Love Letter to Mom...

Three Generations...

(Back when I could go to the beach.)

Happy Spring...

I have used this Lent as an opportunity to review the last year, and it reminds me how much I love Easter; the chance for rebirth, renewal, of hope.

Lent offered a time for blogging reflection, to see how this whole exercise has changed me and my relationships...

Lately, I have had some of the loveliest talks with my Mom. We got away for a perfect lunch and I just delighted in her company. Maybe I'm the one who is finally becoming an adult at the ripe old age of 42. For the longest time, I was under the impression that the whole blogging thing was too much Irish for her German soul to handle. But, I was wrong, like so many things about my Mom. She is so mysterious to me, now more than ever...

You see, parenting is really hard and I'm learning that grown-up parenting is way harder than navigating the "he touched me" or "Mom, she is so annoying; the way she constantly talks, can't I please have a moment of peace."  The real question is, which Mother was hearing these comments... My Mom in the 70's or what I heard today? Scary, the answer is both... HOLY CATs and DOGs!... The irony... God your sense of humor is not funny... Seriously...

But, back to my Mom, she has always been my biggest fan, and has told me so. But, she hurt my feelings early on with the blog. I wrote what I thought was a love letter about my

Grandmother

(her mom) and she read it and well she didn't love it... So immediately, I'm all on defense, getting my Irish-up. We didn't discuss the blog for a long time. Several months later, I broke down and showed her another post... And she loved it... And I was 7 yrs old again looking for approval and wondering, why this time and not that other one... 

And then she sprang it on me...

Basically, she told me that she never realized that writing was one of my gifts.  My writing was too much for her, the reality of  my pain and struggles...Well they hit too close...  But, she explained that I had developed this voice, because of my illness, and I was writing in-spite of my illness; and oh by the way, I had tapped into this from a place of physical pain and made it beautiful... And she was so proud of me...

Well, you could have knocked me over with that one... This conversation continued for two or three talks where Mom shared how my writing has touched her... Again, in my narcissism, I never saw that coming... Never... 

And what made our conversations so powerful, was how right she was... About everything. I have become more open, vulnerable,  honest... This space has given me a peacefulness that I have never had... An opportunity to pray, via my words, to share my spirit and to feel the presence of  Christ in a different way... 

That is what this exercise has given me... Peacefulness...

You see my illness has changed me so profoundly...

We all have heard stories about some people who lose a sense and then the other senses become keener and more aware... Maybe that is what I am learning.  My body is failing me completely, but it has given my mind, spirit and heart the ability to love better... To see clearly...

No surprise that the woman who spends so many sleepless nights worrying about her daughter is the one who sees me so brilliantly...

I love you so much Mom... Thank you, for all the beauty in your life lessons...

Forever yours,

Kathryn

Updated for Father's Day: Family and the Green...

Me and my Dad...

As I sit on my sofa and watch my beautiful husband play a game with his little girl--It reminds me that not every girl's Father's Day were as magical.  So today I re-post this tale--one for every little girl that didn't have the perfect Dad.  For all the Father's that just didn't really know how to do-it.  I'm at peace with mine, I see his imperfections, his humanness and realize that it's in his failures that I have found my greatest strengths. 

I hope so many of you can find your peace too.... xo Kathryn 

Here is the original post: 

Today is my favorite day of the year. It is the day that reminds me of where my people are from. It is familiar, and it speaks to my soul… I wrote this deeply felt post about my father Michael Flynn, but I just can’t seem to hit post… It feels a little too close, that it may hurt my father; paint him in less than an extraordinary light, funny from the girl who has taken to sharing all of her emotions via this blog. 

Why resist sharing about a Man who died so many years ago and why am I resistant to share the brokenness in our family? I cannot re-create his life or make my childhood different…  

My story is what has brought me to this moment... We are all so imperfect, it is only in the next life where we find the perfection, so in my heart I know my Dad is at peace, he carries none of the worries, I carry for him… So it is with that openness and peace that I share this blog post about my Father… My Dad loved his little girl, his KT, his third child and I loved him. So today I share our story…

Family and the Green…

So this weekend, we celebrate St. Patrick’s Day, one of my favorite holidays. Sure, because I’m Irish Catholic; but more importantly, because it reminds me of my Dad. My very handsome father Michael Flynn. 

My father died of lung cancer in December of 1985. I was still wearing my catholic school uniform, when my mom told me in the car. I remember flattening out the pleats in my freshman uniform while I processed the fact that my dad was gone. 

As a high school student, I took the Metro (subway) to and from school daily; and that following Spring, I distinctly remember following a man off the train, watching him on the escalator. I was following him… Searching… 

Something about this man touched me, made me want to connect… Well he looked like my dad.  My mom was waiting for me in the “kiss and ride”…. I got into the car; the tears were rolling down my face.  I was a girl who missed her dad.

My parents divorced when I was four… It sticks in my throat when I say, it. I was so little, but it was all I ever knew…

My father didn't have the skills like so many fathers of his day, he lacked the ability to talk and explain his feelings.  I feel confident saying that my dad likely suffered, as many Irish men do, from depression and he managed it with alcohol. As a child, he would pick my brother and me up and he would drive us straight to a dark, sticky, smoke and stale smelling bar for lunch. While dad had several beers, we played video games, ate fries and had a few too many Cokes. I learned how to count change in a bar… in first grade…

I learned a lot during my dad’s Saturday field trips, the youngest intern project ever… My first on the job training experience, didn't end with learning to count change, it was the first step into the working world… bartending was my ticket to pay for college.

You see for me, bartending was familiar and safe, I have never been uncomfortable, felt threatened. I loved working in a bar.  And frankly, it was a great experiences, I learned how to talk to every kind of person. 

I have never been nervous to talk to anyone which is what I learned sipping cokes sitting on that bar stool next to my dad.  I learned how to cut people off, clearly and directly, tell a guy not to hit on me, I learned how to flirt, something the Sisters didn't teach me in school. And I learned how to be confident and in control.   

I also used these skills to snag my amazingly hot husband while working in a bar… 20 years later, that was still a good play… 

As an adult, my heart breaks for my dad… He had no idea what he was doing… He was clueless. He didn't know what to do with me, my brother shared his passions for darts, trains and electronics. What I loved and needed was his attention.  Not an easy thing to explain or to get when you are a temper-tantrum, vomiting, dramatic little girl… 

Poor dad… If only, we could have gone to a museum, or a concert… He would have seen me. Dad had a love of music, something I loved about his house. He always had music on; he loved a good party and loved to have his family all together.

Gifts that I have inherited; my love of music, still listen to his favorites, I love to entertain, cook and I throw epic, legendary parties…

I loved our Saturday nights, we would watch Love Boat and Fantasy Island and eat big dishes of ice cream in bean-bag chairs… dad was right there between my brother and me. I never could stay awake, so I just remember curling up next to my dad and falling to sleep…

I just loved that moment, that safety with him…

And when the feast of St. Patrick would roll around my father wore this emerald green hat… His homage to the motherland and I loved it… He wore it when he had his beautiful dark brown nearly black hair and even when chemo took that away… And the twinkle in his eye… And it reminded me of why I loved him so much… Because he loved us, in his deeply Irish way… 

His heart was on the outside, he loved too big and it wounded him deeply… It is why I can see his heart in my very Irish son… A true Flynn… A heart too big, too easily hurt… And one that I know my dad looks out for from Heaven…

I feel blessed to have had the shortest of times with him. 15 years, not long enough for a father with a daughter, but long enough to push my boat away from the dock, to set me out on the sea and enough to find my way home again…

May the Road rise up to meet you… 

Today and always…

If you would like to join me on this pilgrimage, filled with my bad spelling, self-invented grammar, and over all foolishness…  Click on the web version of this post and look for the “GET PILGRIMAGEGAL UPDATES VIA EMAIL” option at the top of the right border and enter your email address.

The Many Faces of Pain...

Ecstasy of Saint Teresa,

1647–1652 Cornaro Chapel, Santa Maria della Vittoria, Rome

photo credit:

profzucker

via

photopin

cc

We all face pain in our life, the stub toe on the way to work, the toothache that won’t quiet and the countless skinned knee from childhood play.

But some pain is not so fleeting… For some it’s the emotional pain that just can’t be righted, that dark hole that can’t be scaled, still for others it’s the relationship that can’t be fixed and the hearts that will be broken in its wake. 

Or the loss of love, be it the pain of a child, whose dreams weren't realized; or your life long coffee and dance partner, your bed now cold, never to feel their warmth again. 

This is  the real pain that so many face daily… We pass them at the store, getting coffee or at the bank. For years, we sit with them in church or beside them at a football games, never comprehended their pain… So many of us are unable to reach out, make connections, we pass the same faces every day and touch so few… 

Or we suffer and feel no peace…

I feel pain today and it shows… 

It was supposed to be a special day off with the kids, we had shamrock chocolates to make and leprechaun cookies with special “irish” sugar, but it won’t be… I had to call my Irish Soul-Sister 

(ISS).

 The girl next door, at 8am and say I need you for five. I need her help putting a pain patch on my back. My ISS was there before the phone touched the cradle.

My ISS, well she can’t hide it from me, her face showed the worry of  watching my face illuminated in pain. We have been through it all in the last years… We know the shorthand of each another. It’s the voice, the way she runs her hands to her hair, when she can no longer take another thing, everyone else misses it, but I know it. We feel each other’s weak spots. One look and we can guess the struggle. We know the places to guard and never surrender. We know each other’s hidden stories. Women have this for one another. Maybe it’s the centuries of our men off at war, while the women raise, run, and protect civilization…We just love… And that is why pain will not overrun us.

This body, my body, is weak and broken. It hurts just to breath, much less move, it hurts to talk, to raise my voice to its normal sparkle… I’m so hoarse, from inflammation, from pain… I’m on my couch, with the sunshine warm on my face, and the sun also warms my soul and reminds me that we must continue, there is no retreat...

My Beauties can see it today, too.  They sense it and see me struggle. My beautiful children watch with eagle eyes, while I put a Mom smile on  just for them.  When you see the worry look on adults, you can rationalize, educate and teach… 

Not so with your Beauties…. They see a broken parent, and it is scary, and I know, because I lived it…  I watched my father die, I watched my mother fight a brain tumor, and lots of other scary things… Through it all,  I always, always understood when it was really bad... Children are far more intuitive than we give them credit.  

My sweet dear Irish Prince, he starts to act-out and gets a little or a lot fresh. He panics. He has such anxiety.  He then over compensates and wants to tuck me-in, kiss and bless my forehead, and I get a well-powered remote. “Rest mom, watch TV, it will be fine”,  it’s his own home-spun mantra, I can hear him self-sooth, “Rest mom,  watch a little TV,  drink a diet coke, you’re going to be fine, watch TV, and nap”. 

My Princess, she wants to fix, dust, vacuum, and do the laundry… My girl is 7, far too young to take-on the household, but she just wants to keep busy, very, very busy. I can’t think of a woman alive who has not perfected this skill… Stay busy and I won’t notice that the entire world just blew-up. My sweet little girl... she holds it together, until God bless her she can't. Then she is in a puddle on the floor crying... and I scoop her up, and snuggle her in my bed... 

One of my favorite Mystics and Doctors of the Church (what I wouldn't give to have a glass of scotch and talk to her  about the conclave.) is Saint Teresa of Avila. She said and I’m paraphrasing a bit, “pain isn't permanent”. But, she also said to God, “if this is how you treat your friends; it’s no wonder you have so few”.

Seriously, she is going to be a drinking buddy when I get to heaven. St. Teresa, she always gives me hope, I know she has had some good chats with God.

Whenever I’m really sick, or things have gotten a wee bit tricky, inevitably someone pulls out the Hallmark Card God line, “God never gives you more than you can handle.” 

But, sometimes, I’m not so sure…

I'm  overwhelmingly blessed,  I have faith, a husband, family (biological) and the friends who are even greater family and a support system that won't quit... He hasn't given me too much... 

But for some it is too much. For some beautiful souls, well it takes them. Their hearts were too big for their bodies, the pain was too great.  We all know these souls, we have watched them suffer for years of depression, or substance abuse or whatever prevented them from being present with us… to live this life… it overwhelmed them, like a wave coming ashore.

And yet some of us; we don’t go under. Don’t get pulled under by the wave. Why? I think, some of us are able to protect our big hearts outside of our bodies… We are able to open our arms and risk the pain. We are able to see, touch, embrace the gifts we are given.  The Gift of each other… Its more than community, it's our relationships within that community.

That is the gift. We can chose to embrace it, let the ones who love us in… really in… 

Or we can choose to attempt the fight.  Chose to fight, all alone and be in isolation. 

We have the choice…

It is not easy, it is uncomfortable, it is at times very painful… And that is what makes the journey one of hopefulness, of courage, of strength… 

Have we touched, moved and given, who we really are?… These are the ideas, the stories that live long after we do… The life we lead, the people we love… The souls we touch… 

That is the real truth of why pain isn't permanent… But love… Yes, love.

Love is everlasting…

Solitude...

Search for Solitude...

photo credit: 

andywon

 via 

photopin

cc

What Solitude Brings…

This week has been busy, busy in that my Irish Prince was home for days with a bad virus. I've struggled for solitude; that place where you hear yourself and you make peace and find a place for the contemplative life.  

You see my mind has been clouded by life’s noises… The one that starts with worry, and stress and fatigue. The one that begins whenever my children get sick, really sick like a fever that stays 104 for 5 days sick... 

That makes it hard for me to hear my crystal clear voice. It puts me in mama bear mode; ferocious, warrior, and tireless for my children. But, this warrior state is also not sustainable… She has her limits and she may come and go quickly. 

So today, Monday, I sit showered, clean and worn down by the to-do list that has gathered dust for two weeks, time that my family needed my warrior side. But, she is now very weak from these battles and susceptible to attack.

In addition, I have also had to wage war on my own health lately, trying to “get-in” to the latest brilliant mind that can help me, the person who can hopefully unlock the mystery that my body continues to hide. The confounding medical issue these days is that finding the right doctor requires a warrior like mentality. Sometimes it really comes down to connections, who you know, who your doctor knows, who will stick their neck out for you… Will they confront colleagues for you and open the doors when someone may be slow to respond? 

And here is the dirty little secret of medicine; you have to be smart and tenacious to get great care. You have to engage, question, counter and argue for your health. And you may have never been weaker than you are when you do. 

I have an amazing allergist/immunologist; she is a brilliant doctor, a mother and wife. I wish she didn't have to be my doctor, because in another life, I think she would be one of my closest friends… She gets it… And will get in it… 

She comes from what some argue is the highest culture the world has ever seen; Persia. I think of her as a Queen, because when she enters the room she carries thousands of years of her exemplary culture in her. She is my warrior, she fights for me and that is why she is my Persian Queen.  

My Queen went to bat for me this week, calling the boys’ world of medicine out for not taking care of me. In her regal, calm but decisive way, she let my medical friends know they need to be in it…

Which leads me back to solitude; in English we see this word as dark and sometimes foreboding. But when you return to the Latin or “solus”, it means simply to be alone or single…

Which is what I’m seeking when I use the word solitude.  We all need moments of silence.  We have to carve out the time, create space in our life for a little alone time… Make room to listen. 

To hear our own heartbeat, to breath, to quiet our criticism of ourselves. 

When we turn off this world and connect with ourselves and our Creator, we truly find peace and a path for the future.

Peace be with you…

Shells and T.V...

Shells in my house as a sign of my journey...

If you just caught a glimpse of me on the news tonight...(Here is the link if you missed it;

http://wj.la/Wb2hnK

)

Welcome! The story is true, crazy, I'm well aware, but true.

I suffer from Severe Cold Urticaria.

But you are here....so lets get to the getting...

Why and what is a Pilgrimage Gal.....

Let's start with the name Pilgrimage Gal, well it was a collaboration with my delicious Clive Owen look alike, Jeffrey.  I came up with Pilgrimage Girl.... He thought girl sounded too young.  I went to bed and woke up to an empty blog page called Pilgrimage Gal.  And that Friends is the name.

And what is it? Q

uite simply, It's a journey, my journey...and I share my life, struggles, and daily foolishness. It was supposed to be a record for my young children, a real time document that they would read as adults explaining about their Mom's health. 

I have always-been interested in people who take long pilgrimages come back with all kinds of wonderful, spiritual, life and personal revelations.... I have always wanted to hike "the Way" in Spain like St. James, so my writings are my spiritual reflections on this journey....

So my Pilgrimage is me on my Green Couch, not in Spain, and that's my story... Well kinda of.... You see..

A funny thing happened, other people started reading, commenting and these were folks I had never met.... but they were on this journey, too!  

I have never personally met many of my fellow travelers  Other travelers carrying their own sea shells.  But when, I use my voice, share my struggles, others have found comfort. And this is the gift of a pilgrim, the Spirit, whatever that is for you, works through us all....

So you ask what is this sea shell thing?

When you follow the path in Spain, pilgrims carry, or would wear shells as a symbol of their journey.  The shell on door posts, meant lodging was available. You also would use the shell as drinking cup or plate on your trip. So I keep smaller and larger shells throughout my home as a reminder of this journey. I might not be going far.... But don't be fooled, this is a journey none the less epic...

So that is my little update, explanation, on where things are today...

But, if you are really interested, in me or my story, click on the web version and check out the most popular post marked on the side. They are also some of my most informative....and a way to just dive into life here....

I leave you with the words of Mother Teresa.....

"We can do no great things.... Only small things, with great love."

May your little efforts today be filled with grace and love....

Thank you for joining me on this leg of the pilgrimage.....pick up a shell and join me, or if you have time, send me a photo of your shell.

      - Pilgrimagegal

Anxiety and Lions...

Let Your Inner Lion Roar

photo credit:  Alan Lucas | Dreamstime.com

Why depression and anxiety can’t live with a Lion…

So when this last flare rolled in, I was not ready for it and didn't see it coming… I just realized I had no energy and something wasn't right… And I was blue, down for no real reason and I started to worry, am I depressed?  Was this a new wrinkle, a new symptom?

I know the literature says people with chronic health issues are more likely to suffer from mental health issues with depression often leading the party…

Now don’t get me wrong, I have had periods of what I think is fair to call depression, since suffering from this foolishness… I’m Irish, have a long history of people on both sides of my clan, who shall we say, used alcohol as a life strategy…

And while alcohol has never been an issue for me, the episodes of depression have come on occasion, but for me have thankfully been very brief and always have come in the winter, when it’s been flipping cold and I’m trapped inside. You mix cold, me, bronchitis, poor breathing, bad pain, cabin fever and tons of prednisone and nasty cough syrup and you don’t have a well-rounded girl…  

When this happens, I immediately, call on my doctors; and my wellness guide/spiritual advisor/medical advisor/mental health sounding board, all rolled into my therapist. She helps me manage the periods and thankfully the episodes have rolled out as quickly as they roll in.

But the truth be told, I’m an anxiety girl.

You know the worry thing, as women and mothers, we all have it. I think they go together. You could be a girl that never had a moment of anxiety and the second that pregnancy stick changes colors, you are screwed...

I have shared that I struggle with the “Good Enough Phenomenon.” You know that internal dialogue that can de-rail your day or your life depending on how much time you have.

It begins with my all-star rotation: Am I smart enough, thin enough, witty enough, good enough to be married to my beautiful prince of a husband, I don’t deserve him, am I just faking this whole disease thing in my head for attention, could I be doing more to be healthy?

And my biggest worry: am I good enough mother, what could I be doing to be a better Mom to these beauties.

I've come to learn that these are the LIES of anxiety. These are the biggest parts of our soul; some of the things we are actually best at are the things that haunt us….

And, haunt us they do….and then we are naked and exposed for the whole world to see. The evilness of anxiety just gets in and takes over and you get to the point that it almost paralyzes you. The longer you make room for anxiety, the more of a bad house guest it becomes… 

It takes over more of your beautiful home and that beautiful, clear voice that you have in your soul? Well it gets quieter… You can’t hear her… Until she grows silent… And that is when you are in real trouble, because you have lost your voice… You have damaged your soul… 

You have lost the uniqueness that makes you strong, beautiful and unstoppable…

For women I think it happens so gradually that we don’t even notice at first. We are so busy, running, loving, sharing, giving, nurturing, that we forget ourselves. We put off; we neglect ourselves, neglect our truth, and lose our voice…

My dear friend, my California Beauty (CB), brilliant, amazing and the girl I would so go over the cliff with… We have a contract with each other. I’m not sure when we signed it, we just did. 

We are each other’s professional, personal, spiritual and honest girlfriend... We are also each other’s-safety rope…. When we met, it was because of our kids, but we are each other’s real deal. We speak each-others truth… We are each married to a sweet, smart, hot, introvert and well we are not introverts.  And we love our husbands; we are fearless Mama Bears and we have a host of similar life experiences… 

I think that’s what makes us unique soul-sisters….

What does that mean? It means we hold hands, and jump through, slam, crash, and break, mangle, and tell our comfort zone to “suck-it”! Destroying our comfort zone… It means we reassure each other when we need to step out of the box. To be honest, she does it way more for me than I have ever done for her. I think I have done it for her maybe once or twice.

She was the girl, who got me to “come-out” about my blog; she is the one I call when I worry, when the anxiety creeps in, when my voice is hard to hear… 

When the anxiety tries to take over, I call my girl; because she is the one who says you are: “Unstoppable, you are beautiful, trust that voice, you have to speak your truth, you can do it… I believe in you… and by the way, I’m driving, the heat seat is on, get some lip-gloss, we are going...”  I’m not kidding, and she shows up… we go…

Can I just say, I have lost track of how many times…

And you know what? I feel all of those things, not as strongly as she does about me, when my voice is a little shaky; it is nice to have a little push…

I trust her… I mean seriously, I’m willing to go over the cliff with this girl. And Jeff would say, “Fine”, he trusts her and loves her that much too.  

Whenever I say her name, he says “go”, no matter how crazy the idea.

But, here’s the thing, every time you smash your comfort zone, I mean really smash it, EVERYTIME, your true voice gets louder and it gets stronger and you trust it more and the flipping anxiety loses another room in your house. It loses another part of your soul; it just gets shoved out the door.

This is what I know for sure. Anxiety is NEVER good, it never helps, and it never makes you better, it just steals, robs, lies, manipulates….

And let me tell you, anxiety has driven me to throw-up, it has made me cry, it makes me shake, and it has kept me up at night….and question. Question myself…

Anxiety has never given me confidence, never made me push through, dig deeper... It has tried to rob me of my dreams….it never told me, YES, YES, YES, I can do that! Not once...

But my little voice has…. And she is starting to quietly, roar…

Oh yes, yes she is… You go girl!

Find your beautiful, tall, strong, unstoppable, voice and let her roar…

For the entire world to see. 

She is your lion. She is your truth…

Namaste… The divine in me bows to the divine in you… Always….