I'm back. Sort of. My bod is mostly back in the game, but I'm still weak and now I have no voice. Literally. So I sit here on my sofa talking to you, even though in real life I am a mute. The no talking part has been interesting. To be honest, this whole nine day experience has been interesting. Sickness has never been part of my reality. Even as a child if I ever got sick, my dad would make me get dressed and get out of bed. He used to say, "you won't stay sick if you don't act sick."
Let's look at cool pictures as we talk. As you might imagine, they have no relation to this post. Except that I really need to get serious about framing and hanging pictures in my house.
First I have to thank Jennifer for keeping the blog rockin' along. She's one of my best peeps. I don't trust many people with this blog, but she's one I knew I could hand it right over without blinking an eye. The girl oozes style. And she's a loyal friend. Perfect combo.
So I'm one of these people who believes that every experience is a lesson or opportunity to grow. Usually the growing part bites. Mainly because in order to grow you have to get completely out of your comfort zone. For me, being bedridden, flirting with what felt like death, and sitting alone in a room for more than a week was a major comfort zone violation. I'm used to going 150 mph without stopping. Until I collapse into bed. Notice I said collapse. Recipe for disaster.
Humor me as I share my personal insights during this time.
The first few days of being sedentary I thought I was going to crawl right out of my skin. I was too sick to read, sleep, watch tv, make my to-do list, or even set goals. It was 48 hours of pure discomfort and pain. That's a lot of time to think, pray, reflect, suffer, reflect some more and stare at a ceiling. For the record, prayer helped my mind and spirit a lot. I learned that Motrin or Tylenol do not stop gut-wrenching body aches. It was awful. But it got my attention. It forced me to appreciate something very basic: life. Life is so precious. Even if we don't have all of the "things" we want or we worry about the future or we don't like what's going on today. We still have life. It's the basic joys that really matter. Across the hall I could hear all the sounds of my children's day as it progressed; laughing or crying, playing or arguing, all of their day and night dramas were unveiled in their voices. It was strange to hear it all go by and be completely detached from helping, instructing or rescuing.
Observation #1: You're ultimately not in control [control freak]. And that's okay.
A few days later I went into moderate pain phase and started feeling human again. I took naps. I watched TV [and concluded that daytime television is not only depressing but designed for mental patients]. Even read a little. I would wake up with husband in the morning and help the girls get dressed and brush their hair. Husband did everything else. Like haggle with a three year old who's putting on his superman costume instead of school clothes, pack healthy lunches, load up four kids in the pouring rain and get them to school on time. The whole time I felt like such a loser. I wasn't contributing or pulling my own weight. I couldn't. As much as I wanted to.
Slowly I came to peace with resting. I observed that somehow my husband was surviving doing all of this. The guilt went away [a little] and I allowed myself to read, take a deep breath, cough up a lung or two and relax. Sounds so simple, doesn't it? Well, it's not. Not for me, anyway.
Observation #2: It's okay to rest. It's actually a good thing [control freak].Now I'm physically better, I'm up and around and functioning well in our abode. But the voice has left. Poof, it's gone. If I try to speak, I cough for about 10-15 minutes afterward. So communication with my own children has become very primitive. And you know what? If you don't talk, there's a lot to hear. There's a lot to learn. If you can believe it, our kids have become quieter without me being able to speak. They are more peaceful.
Observation #3: It's good to say less and listen more [control freak].
AT THIS POINT YOU MIGHT BE ASKING...
Why is this the longest blog post in the world and how does this relate to me?
Well, I don't think I'm alone in this whole burnout track I was running on. Anyone else running along next to me? Maybe faster? Maybe longer? Anyone else tired of running?
I got tired.
Here's a thought: Let it go. Whatever it is, let it go. It will be there tomorrow. I promise. Take a few minutes to yourself. Turn off the cell, computer and TV. Read, walk, study, pray, knit, sketch, paint, write, whatever. Do something that feeds your soul. It's not selfish to do that. I mean, even Jesus went off alone for days at a time during his ministry. He needed that time. And I'm pretty sure he wasn't selfish. Feeding your spirit and having down time is so valuable. In fact, it's imperative. And important in staying healthy. It took me running myself to the ground and getting sick to figure that one out.
So my blog posts will still be here, maybe not as many, maybe not as long, but still here. Just going to work on keeping my priorities in order. And take more time to rest when I need it. Feels good to say that.
Promise me you'll do the same.
***this was not meant to be a "poor me" post, but rather a post about learning an important lesson in life. If you leave a comment, let it be one sharing an idea or how you are going to honor your own time to recharge! I won't be able to personally respond to your comments as I usually do, but please know I love each and every one of them!*****
[photos from country living via this blog]
