When Life Reschedules Your Week, and You Go With It

Do you ever get to a point where you feel as though you just don’t have anything to say?

I got to that point this week, which is why I didn’t have anything pithy to write for my Friday post. So I didn’t.

Actually, I think I was more pre-occupied with other events going on in my life this week that pre-empted any original thought.

Another week when life got rescheduled—

I’m still struggling to recover from my bone spur surgery. That seems to be coming along, although it’s still a one-day-good, the next day not so much experience. But then the right knee I injured while on Camino has started to give me fits. To the point that I sometimes have difficulty walking on it. Actually, more than sometimes. I think I’m headed back to the doctor sooner rather than later. Even though I have a degree in an area of sports medicine, and I’ve a multitude of injuries, it never ceases to amaze at how injuries of any kind can make you feel so tired, and (sometimes) sick!

Then my younger son decided to come home early for the holidays. Either he really misses us, or he just needed time in familiar, soothing surroundings to, as he put it, “clear his head, be able to think, and get some sleep.” I guess the first semester of law school does that to you!

Anyway, we’re thrilled to have him home; and I needed to stock the house with a lot of food, which included buying his favorites. That meant a grocery store run I hadn’t penciled into the schedule.

We managed to catch a long glimpse of the space station as it circled past us. Can’t remember the last time we were treated to that view. (I wonder what the astronauts are doing for Christmas?)

Then my beloved had a medical procedure yesterday morning that required my attendance. All day.

Suffice to say that life just slowed down for us, we visited a lot with one another, decorated the Christmas tree, enjoyed egg nog in our moose mugs, and made final decisions on Christmas gifts. And we slept in REALLY LATE this morning (Friday)! It was glorious.

 

So I still have nothing profound to say today, but I will be back  next Friday with a final Christmas post for you.

And be sure to join me Monday when we’ll look at the mysterious ways of love!

Until then,

take some time to really enjoy all the season gives you! And don’t feel obligated to take part in everything available to you. Save some energy to really enjoy a few things.

Blessings,

Andrea

Black Friday OptOut(side)

It’s Black Friday.

‘Tis the season to stand in line for hours and go nuts at the malls.

Did I need to tell you that?

What do you plan to spend the day doing?

Shopping? Eating leftover turkey, stuffing, potatoes and pie?

 

How about an alternative option. One that has health and wellness and saving money written all over it?

 

Skip Black Friday shopping and do some playing outside!

 

Yup. Get out in the great outdoors for some creation viewing and inhaling!

Breathe fresh air.

Break a sweat.

Sunbathe.

Go canoeing or kayaking. Hike. Run. Grab a bunch of friends and play soccer in the park. How about Frisbee with your dog? Riding a bike along a bike path. Going to the dog park. Enjoying a café con Leche al fresco with a friend.

Take a stand and rebel against the same old, against the world’s marketing giants.

Source of my rebellion—

The Camino. That’s what did it. And this is yet another example of how that journey changed me.

I haven’t done the Black Friday shopping bit for years, but I have perused the websites online, the ones that tease me to get in on the cyber action three days early, so I can be a savvy shopper. So I can feel good about the bargain I scored.

On The Camino I rejected news, marketing and teasers. I focused on my purpose and spiritual journey.

I spent most of my day outside in the caressing sunshine and sweet smelling (or sometimes dust-cloaked) air and realized how much I missed being outside. How good it made me feel physically, (there are extreme health benefits that come from being outside), emotionally and spiritually, untethered from my computer and household work.

 

Let’s go back to the spiritual benefits—

Isn’t that what we kicked off yesterday? Christmas? The most celebrated spiritual season of the year?

So why not focus on it? Why lose yourself in the shopping hype and drain your bank account? Why drive around endlessly looking for a parking spot at the mall?

Be a trendsetter. A rebel.

 

Choose to OptOutside!

Join REI as they celebrate their Day in. Day out. Celebrated on Black Friday when they’re closed for business, to encourage outdoor recreation.

Four years ago they had the gumption to change their status quo business model and decided to close their doors, and still pay their employees! On Black Friday.

Imagine. Some conscientious capitalism.

As they say on their dedicated website:

 

“It’s about the routines—the ones we need and the ones we need to rethink.”

 

So how about joining them in the rethinking.

For more on the benefits of going outside, head to their special website.

And spread the word!

#optoutside

 

 

NEXT WEEK:

What does depression look like? Could you recognize it in a co-worker or loved one?

In this season of making merry, we need to remember that for some it is the most profoundly depressing time of year. We can’t assume that our friends, fellow churchgoers, and co-workers are doing okay in this area just because they’re showing up and participating and getting the job done.

Next week I’m going to give you a great info graphic, courtesy of my friends and professional psychologists at BetterHelp.

It will give some great information on identifying functional depression and tips on the getting the help functional depressants need.

 

Until then,

Blessings,

Andrea

May you prosper in all things and be in health, just as your soul prospers (3 John 2).

First photo by Dieter de Vroomen on unsplash

Second photo by Sabina Ciesielska on unsplash

Keeping the Camino Alive at Home

One of the biggest things I miss about being on the Camino de Santiago is that I’m no longer outside as much as I was when walking it. I’m inside. Too much. All that fresh air, sunshine, the varied terrain, endless views, and those interesting cloud formations to enjoy and revitalize me.

So that’s one of the ways I’m continuing my Camino here at home. I’m making a point of getting outside more often. Taking my ten-minutes from writing breaks outside. Feasting on the cooler weather, the backyard plants that have busted out in uniquely fall foliage and flowers, the brilliant green baby grass sprigs that have exploded from the ground. Then there are the songbirds that have returned from their summer mountain escape to feed at my feeders. The animal life outside the walls of my home is busy, and I’m enjoying witnessing it!

And I’m still walking.

But there are other ways Chris and I are continuing to maintain our new sense of freedom and peace.

Today I’ll give you three ways:

 

  1. Trying to maintain farmer hours.

We’d been trying to do this for about a year, but when we walked the Camino, we had to. And now we crave it!

The albergues (hostels strictly dedicated to Camino pilgrims) require the lights to be out by 10:00, (actually, they’re required by law to lock the doors and turn down the lights to ensure no late-night revelers crash the establishment and pilgrims can get some sleep). Many pilgrims wanted them out earlier, so they could hit the trail before dawn. So we developed the daily rhythm of rising with the sun (or the light switch being flicked to “on”) and beginning the winding down process right after dinner, which we usually ate around 7:00 to 7:30. (Although some blessed restaurants opened the dinner doors at 6:00 to accommodate us Westerners!)

One private home we stayed in (it was like a B&B for pilgrims) required the lights out at 9:00 because she had other tenants that needed to rise early.

Without television, computers, or phone WiFi (pronounced “Wee Fee” by some in Spain) to distract us, we wound down, read our maps and planned our next day’s route, and maybe chatted with other pilgrims. Sometimes we strolled around outside the hostel to enjoy the quiet or distance city lights before retiring to bed. Sometimes we scribbled thoughts in our journals.

 

At home, we’re making sure the computers are shut down at least an hour before bedtime and only necessary lights for maneuvering around the house or bedroom are left on. Since we don’t watch much television, that’s not a problem for us. But when we’ve been sitting on the couch watching it, we make sure it’s off at least an hour before bed too. (Football games that go to 11:00 PM not included!)

The cellphone is left in its hammock in the kitchen (Chris leaves his in the office room), and we don’t read emails, texts, or Internet articles online, or answer phone calls either. If I can, I even shut down the Internet connection. When Chris’s company uses the dead-of-night hours to load new programs on his computer, we can’t do this.)

For many reasons, we’ve always maintained a strict rule in our house that there are NO televisions in the bedrooms. Having one in a bedroom allows you to disassociate too easily from the rest of the family; it’s a serious sleep and body rhythm disrupter; and it ruins your husband-wife intimacy.

I’m sure you’ve read or heard the research: Keeping all the electronics going right up until bedtime, and often after you’ve gone to bed, ruins your sleep and causes sleep disturbances. Your body needs time to raise your melatonin levels to ensure good, healing, restorative sleep.

On the Camino, we got it!

 

 

 

 

 

 

  1. Preparing well for your day and making sure (as much as is possible with you) that you don’t rush to do anything!

On the Camino, if you weren’t prepared to pack up your backpack and leave the albergue at the designated (no excuses allowed or accepted) time, they locked the doors (8:00 AM in most), then you risked forgetting an item and getting off to a harried start.

I’m continuing that at home. If I can’t finish something in the time I have, I re-schedule it or plan to do when I know I have the time.

I resist allowing others to load up my time with things they think are “critical.” Most of the time they’re not. I don’t commit unless I feel a joy about doing it and know I have the time. Obviously some work requirements fall outside of this rule, especially in the joy department. But I’m also taking inventory on what gives me joy and a sense of purpose and what doesn’t, and that’s giving me more freedom (and reason) to choose what I do when.

 

In the simplest example, I don’t start a load of laundry at 9:00 at night, when I intend to be in bed by 9:30; or if I know I don’t have time to get the load washed, dried and properly hung up or folded to avoid wrinkles.

I don’t overschedule my day.

If I end up not being able to complete something I hoped to accomplish one day, I don’t stress about it. I move it to the next day’s schedule. Most of the time it’s not a critical, deadline-driven item. If it is, I make sure it gets done first, whether it’s my favorite thing to do or not.

I know, and am honest about, just how long it takes me to get ready to go some place.

 

On the Camino, Chris and I were able to whittle down our morning prep and backpack loading time to 45 minutes. But that amount of time felt rushed. An hour was more comfortable, so we planned for an hour. And then we rarely ran outside to rejoin the path. We’d stretch, survey the day, weather and our surroundings, smile at and chat with some passing pilgrims, make sure our water bottles were filled, our packs were comfortably situated on our backs, and our poles were in our hands. And then we’d decide if we wanted a café con leche and croissant before we got started, or would wait until a mid-morning break or the next town for those.

 

Back home I’m spending more time thinking about all of the items I need to gather together to accomplish my day and make it a success. Do I have everything I need to run the errands I plan to run? Have I put the necessary items in the car? (Like my grocery bags.) Can I consolidate errands on one day?

 

And the biggest, most effective question?

 

What can I do to make my day less stressful, less chaotic, more enjoyable, productive and successful?

 

Answering that question requires that I slow down and focus on what I’m doing and going to do. Where I’m going and how long I’m likely to be there. How long it actually takes to get there, without rushing or cutting others off in traffic. Making the journey itself enjoyable.

And another question I can ask myself is:

How much of the frustration and chaos in my life is my own fault, of my own doing, by my own hand?

Most of the time we have choices. We can set boundaries with others, and ourselves. When we don’t, we need to stop pointing the finger of blame at our bosses, our co-workers, our spouses and our kids. If we let them erase or move our boundaries, then we are likely the ones to blame for the pain, frustration and exhaustion it causes.

Which translates to: No whining allowed.

 

  1. Whatever I’m doing at the moment, no matter how small or insignificant it seems to be, I’m focusing entirely on what I’m doing.

Again, if getting up late and having to rush to prepare for your day and pack your backpack distracted you, you risked leaving something behind or starting your day feeling frantic and already physically and emotionally overwhelmed.

On the Camino, we got into the habit of planning two days out in advance. How far we planned to walk, the city where we would to spend the night. Then making sure we had lodgings secured someplace in that city.

That relieved us of the pressures (and potential mental distractions) of wondering what our day would look like, what we’d have time to see, whether or not we’d arrive in time to get a bed at a hostel (some are first-come, first served), and whether or not we’d have to walk all around that town to find an available room, or bed.

 

So now I’m on a mission to remove as many distractions as possible from life. Even the tiniest things that cause my brain to hiccup.

Like not reading the mail while I’m watching the news. Although I might use the commercial breaks for that.

 

And that includes reading text messages and emails. The only time the phone gets my attention during that time is if Chris or one of the boys calls.

Really enjoying folding the laundry and putting it in neat stacks, rather than haphazardly folding them and maybe leaving a heap of clean clothes on the bed because I got distracted by something else, or was trying to accomplish too many loads of laundry in a day or was too tired or frustrated by something else (like my ridiculously over-packed schedule) to really pay attention to doing a good job.

And not reading something (email, magazine, mail, etc.) while I’m talking to someone, telling them “Keep talking, I’m listening.” And focusing on my meal without reading mail or chatting on the phone. (For years studies have shown that people who pay attention to what they eat, really sit down, slow down and pay attention to their food slow down and eat far less and enjoy their food more.)

Focusing on cooking and preparing a meal instead of watching television (another place to not allow a television is in the kitchen). I’m even getting to the point where I don’t like the distraction of cooking at the stove and talking to someone—including Chris—simultaneously.

Have you ever seen a busy restaurant kitchen? It’s chaos and stress. I’ve determined that the quality and timeliness of my meals is in direct proportion to the amount of attention I give them.

I’m opting for quality and timeliness. It’s certainly allowing me more food preparation and cooking joy than I’ve ever experienced before!

 

One other positive benefit of being more deliberate and intentional with everything I do, including the laundry, is that I’m experiencing far fewer “now, what-did-I-come-in-this-room-for-again?” senior moments. Just another confirmation that it wasn’t so much my aging, shrinking brain as my lifestyle causing me such frustration, distraction and a sieve-like brain.

 

And it’s allowing me to enjoy devotion and prayer times with fewer distractions. My mind stays on topic. And I can really listen for, and to God. That’s the best benefit of all!

 

And you?

These steps might be no-brainers for you, things you’re already doing. If so, bravo!! I applaud you.

If not, consider trying them, or just one. Be deliberate. This is brain retraining, so you can learn new habits; make life more manageable and enjoyable. Less frustrating and overwhelming.

I think you’ll find that your mental, physical, emotional and spiritual health will improve!

 

NEXT FRIDAY I’ll give you some additional changes you might try. Including some of the Spanish lifestyle behaviors I think allows them to outrank us in longevity.

Until then, may you find joy in being focused and undistracted!

Blessings,

Andrea

May you prosper in all things and be in health, just as your soul prospers (3 John 2).

 

Photos by Andrea A Owan

The Blessings and Lessons in the Repetitive and Mundane

The afternoon and evening routine continued nearly everyday. And we grew to appreciate it.

Just as the repetition of the morning preparation to hit the road and walk for four, five or six hours prepared us for the day, the evening repetition helped us recover from the hiking and rejuvenate for the next day. The line-up almost sounds like a reverse of the morning preparation I explained last Friday.

 

Afternoon and evening rituals—

  1. Arrive at the city you’ve decided to walk to and locate the albergue, pension, hostel or hotel you plan to stay in, or have made reservations with.
  2. Check in, show them your pilgrim credentials for the official stamp, show them your U.S. passport for identification, pay and locate your room and bed.
  3. Be given the ten-minute spiel about requirements at this particular location: where to deposit your dusty shoes, do and hang your laundry, location for dinner and/or breakfast if they provide it and you’ve paid for it.
  4. Peel off your dripping clothes, take a much-needed shower, change into clean, dry clothes and put on compression socks and sandals. Make sure you check your feet and toes for blisters and attend to anything that looks as though it may become a problem. Trim nails, sand down encroaching calluses, etc.
  5. Wash and dry, or hang, your clothes to dry.
  6. Lie down and put your legs up for a while to reduce the swelling and give them a break. See if you can get a leg massage from your beloved hiking partner! Grab a snack if you want, and since it’s likely to be another four to five hours before dinner. Take this time to journal the day’s events and impressions. A nap was another enjoyable event.
  7. Decide what local churches or sites you want to visit and pad around for a couple of hours as pilgrim-tourists.
  8. Show up on time at the place where the local peregrino dinner is served, meet other pilgrims, and enjoy a lengthy fresh and delicious (no preservative, often fresh out of the garden) meal. Three courses for one low price, of course!
  9. Return to your room and prepare for bed: brush teeth, put on your sleeping attire, make sure you’ve got what you for the next day laid out under your bed or on a table and have packed what you don’t think you’ll be using. If your joints and legs are aching, take an anti-inflammatory or rub a topical anti-inflammatory on them.
  10. Lock all valuables in the available locker.
  11. Lay out your silk sleeping bag and/or sleeping bag liner and any provided blanket, turn out the lights and say your prayers. (Lights out was always by 10:00 PM. Alburgue requirement.

 

Unexpected benefits—

You’d think this would get old. It didn’t. While we didn’t necessarily develop a relish for living like vagabonds out of our backpacks or sleeping in a different bed every night, the mundane routine provided us with an extraordinary benefit we hadn’t expected.

 

It cleared our brain for experiencing and focusing on impactful places, events and people.

 

Our brains were stimulated by the changing terrain and weather, the different languages we heard spoken as we walked, the people we met, the interesting conversations we shared with them and one another, each new church we toured and sat in daily to breathe in history, faith-through-the ages, and God’s spirit.

And it only took two days of hiking for my brain to release the unimportant baggage and celebrate its liberation.

 

How my normally busy brain responded—

Sitting in the 13thcentury church in Roncesvalles, listening to the Gregorian chants drifting through the nave, I suddenly realized just how relaxed I was. I wasn’t daydreaming. I didn’t have to wrest my thoughts from a lengthy to-do list, other places I should be. No guilt tormented me for not partaking in some other activity that might seem more important, might make someone else happy, might give a leg-up and edge in life.

Instead, I sat and inhaled deeply of the dampness. The dim light enhanced the relaxed state of my body and mind. But the realization that I could—and was—experiencing such peace ignited a spark of joy in my soul.

 

And more—

Several days later another revelation hit me: I could remember everything I had eaten for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and remembered what I had done, where I had stayed, the names of the pilgrims I had met and talked with, all the details of every day of my pilgrim journey without having to wade through brain file cabinet of incidental distractions and information. And I was stricken with a bout of giddiness.

 

It wasn’t my age or health causing me to have foggy-brain forgetfulness. It was my lifestyle bogging down my brain. My lifestyle that caused me to live my life in a fog.

 

It was then that I vowed to never return to the same-old, same-old when I returned home, no matter how hard life and the world tried to shove me back on that overloaded path.

 

As we did on the Camino, I vowed to chew on life slowly, savior it like the delicacy that it is.

 

Keeping it going—

I know it will sometimes be a fight, and that I’ll often have to take a stand. But how could I knowingly and willingly re-cloak myself in harriedness when I had gone through such pains to cast it off?

Certainly there will be stressful moments in my life. That’s unavoidable. But when the stress comes now, which it will without warning, I am more likely to withstand it, analyze it appropriately and take effective steps to diffuse or deal with it. I am not so overwhelmed with life and its events that I am paralyzed by indecision or lack of direction.

Now I can understand why so many want to return to the Camino—The Way—over and over again. Five, six or more trips. Some return to recover what they lost. Others return in an attempt to attain what they never found. Still others repeat the walk to keep the change going, like a refresher course to keep your daily life responses on par with what you learned the first time, the way you want it to always be.

 

The future—

For us, we can’t wait to return to finish what we started, to keep the feelings and experiences going. To instill and deepen the lessons learned.

People said it would be life changing. I didn’t doubt them for a second.

Now I know just how life changing it can be.

 

Several Fridays ago I promised to give you some concrete ways I’m making sure we’re staying on track with the new normal. We’ll cover that next week.

Until then, take some time to just sit still this weekend, shut out the concerns and pressures and take in the simple pleasures of your surroundings. Don’t think about or worry about where you’re not; focus on where you are.

Blessings,

Andrea

May you prosper in all things and be in health, just as your soul prospers (3 John 2).

Enjoying the Benefits of Not Reading

FOR MY Free-for-All Friday posts, I often refer to and recommend a book I’ve been reading, one I think you’d enjoy or that could grow or enlarge your faith. But I haven’t read much the last month, which, for an author who’s a voracious reader, is really unordinary. I was enjoying the benefits that come from not having my eyes plastered to the words in a book or magazine or characters in a text or email.

Spending 25 days on a pilgrimage can do that to you. Change your focus.

But I don’t mean to imply that I didn’t read anything. I read—and tried to decipher—signs written in foreign languages. (I’m happy to say that, for the most part, I did pretty well with this!)

I also read special pilgrim maps, so we wouldn’t get lost or miss one of those special yellow and blue shell signs marking the route. (Our biggest obstacle to this was getting our brains used to the British-sourced maps that direct you to the top of the page for south, rather than the other way around. I never did get my brain adjusted. Thankfully, Chris did!)

And I read brief historical literature or pamphlets about the towns, villages, castles or churches we visited, and the people who made them famous.

And I read a few bus terminal signs and restaurant menus. And several texts from my kids. But not very many. And I wrote several brief ones in return. On Chris’s phone.

 

Satisfying a goal—

Part of our pilgrimage goal—mentally, physically and spiritually—was to deliberately divest ourselves of the daily anxieties of life. Like staying engaged in the endless world discourse, reading breaking news flashes, television-scrolling news briefs, texts and emails so we could “be in the know.” Instead, we wanted to be fully engaged in our moment-by-moment experiences. Undistracted from the here and now. Totally absorbed in where the map and our feet took us, in the conversations shared (and I do mean shared) at festival seating meal tables, in the geography of the land, and in the habits of its inhabitants.

 

Totally absorbed in what was happening to our bodies, minds and spirits.

 

I didn’t lug along a computer. My iPad rested peacefully in its pocket in my desk cabinet back home. I didn’t bring a magazine or book to kill time during down times. From the moment our plane lifted off the John F. Kennedy International Airport runway on its way to Paris and I returned home 26 days later, my phone was engaged in Airplane mode. (Actually, it took me two additional days after returning home to shut off the Airplane Mode toggle.) I had it along only to take pictures, and if a dire emergency warranted a call. It never did.

Frankly, I was surprised at how quickly and happily my brain and five senses responded to this new program.

They became fully engaged and magnified as they absorbed the sights, sounds and smells of pastoral settings brimming with sheep, cattle and horses, succulent green grasses, dank and mildewed medieval churches and monasteries, lazy rivers, spring-fed, dripping water fountains, the excited conversations of expectant pilgrims ready to start their journeys, the laughter of people enjoying al fresco dining and intimate conversations, the tick-tick-tick of un-capped hiking poles on cobbled streets.

And that was just on the first day!

My brain was so busy absorbing the sensory input I focused on that it didn’t have an opportunity to log one iota of regret at what it was missing out on.

 

And for the first time in a very long time my brain and I felt fully alive!

And so very grateful to be so.

In my last Free-for-All Friday post, I mentioned that I would be on a pilgrimage to discover a body and soul waltz. Now that my official pilgrimage is over for now, I can tell you my body and my soul quickly embraced the new tempo and melded together in perfect timing and rhythm, playing off of one another and gliding in synchrony.

It was a dance I didn’t want to end, and I’m making sure it won’t.

Next week Friday I’ll tell you how I’m accomplishing that. Maybe you’ll find some ideas and tips to accomplish the same things in your life.

I hope so.

But please join me this coming Monday when we’ll start preparing our hearts and minds for Thanksgiving!

Until then,

engage all of your senses in the moment. Be not only conscious but conscientious in every thought, word and life nuance.

Blessings,

Andrea

May you prosper in all things and be in health, just as your soul prospers (3 John 2).
Photo by Ian on Unsplash.com