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| image © held by AnnMarie Gitchell, 2011 |
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
to be alive...
For most of my childhood I was painfully shy. Sometimes I wouldn't speak at all to grown ups or even my peers. I'm sure many people saw this as a weakness, a vulnerability of mine. I've got many more where that came from!
Now that I have my own children I can see that this "vulnerability" is not necessarily a weakness. In fact, I've come to figure out that many of the things that others, or even ourselves, may perceive as weakness are really the things that make us the most who we are- our essence.
I've also come to realize that there is tremendous strength in vulnerable moments. These are the moments that unite us as human beings, these are the moments that create family, community, these are the moments that effect growth and that heal.
For most of my adulthood I have tried to keep my most vulnerable emotions to myself. I rarely cry at funerals, I typically berate myself for displaying sadness or fear and I rarely acknowledge the breadth of a moment while experiencing it- perhaps because I worry that the chinks in my armor will show, leaving me defenseless. Unfortunately, this ends up making me look like a stoic, rather unfeeling individual. Ironically, some may mistake this for strength when really, this is my kryptonite- my ultimate weakness.
My job as a health care provider allows me a small window into the realm of strength vs weakness, along with the distinct privilege to be witness to patients and family members at their most vulnerable times. I have the honor everyday of being but one stone on their path to recovery. So you would think that what happened to me yesterday would not have made such an impression- but it did!
The details are not as important as the fact that someone took the time to be more open and perhaps feel a bit more "out on a limb" than usual. He seized the opportunity to say something to me that meant more than he could know. Just that act of being "vulnerable" for only a moment, did something magical. It made me feel. He didn't need to take the time to say this to me. He could have easily let the moment pass. But he didn't. This is how we effect change in our neighborhood or our state or our country....by connecting with individuals. If we all remain "strong" all the time, we never reach out to others, we never really experience our full potential as sentient beings.
It's funny that for so long now, I've been searching for "my thing," but really all of us have the same "thing." We have each other. And, how we share with each other or acknowledge each other's existence is ONLY through these vulnerable moments.
"...to grow up is to accept vulnerability...to be alive is to be vulnerable." - Madeleine L'Engle
Now that I have my own children I can see that this "vulnerability" is not necessarily a weakness. In fact, I've come to figure out that many of the things that others, or even ourselves, may perceive as weakness are really the things that make us the most who we are- our essence.
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| image © held by AnnMarie Gitchell, 2011 |
For most of my adulthood I have tried to keep my most vulnerable emotions to myself. I rarely cry at funerals, I typically berate myself for displaying sadness or fear and I rarely acknowledge the breadth of a moment while experiencing it- perhaps because I worry that the chinks in my armor will show, leaving me defenseless. Unfortunately, this ends up making me look like a stoic, rather unfeeling individual. Ironically, some may mistake this for strength when really, this is my kryptonite- my ultimate weakness.
My job as a health care provider allows me a small window into the realm of strength vs weakness, along with the distinct privilege to be witness to patients and family members at their most vulnerable times. I have the honor everyday of being but one stone on their path to recovery. So you would think that what happened to me yesterday would not have made such an impression- but it did!
The details are not as important as the fact that someone took the time to be more open and perhaps feel a bit more "out on a limb" than usual. He seized the opportunity to say something to me that meant more than he could know. Just that act of being "vulnerable" for only a moment, did something magical. It made me feel. He didn't need to take the time to say this to me. He could have easily let the moment pass. But he didn't. This is how we effect change in our neighborhood or our state or our country....by connecting with individuals. If we all remain "strong" all the time, we never reach out to others, we never really experience our full potential as sentient beings.
It's funny that for so long now, I've been searching for "my thing," but really all of us have the same "thing." We have each other. And, how we share with each other or acknowledge each other's existence is ONLY through these vulnerable moments.
"...to grow up is to accept vulnerability...to be alive is to be vulnerable." - Madeleine L'Engle
Friday, October 28, 2011
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Monday, September 12, 2011
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
After realizing what I had done, I heard myself start to cry. Not a silent shedding of tears, not a quiet whimper or a middle of the road snivel, but a full on sob. I had inadvertantly deleted images from my computer documenting special moments with my children and family.
Now, did I lose my home to tropical storm Irene- NO; did I have to decide which of my children to attempt to save as I struggle to survive in famine riddled Somalia- Not even close. I have this in perspective now, but yesterday morning I couldn't see straight!
My boys are only getting older and bigger and I feel time slipping through my fingers- losing those images of them at the zoo and the civil war encampment and with my parents on the 4th of July felt like I was losing bits of our family.
But what I actually lost sight of was the fact that erasing the documentation did not negate the existence of these moments. Life doesn't fly past us, it flows through us. These special memories, experiences leave a trace in our soul. Losing the images means we can't SEE the event anymore- but it does not negate the fun and excitement and love that was felt and made.
This made me think of some of my patients that I work with and their families. Often, I work with individuals who have lost memories due to head injury or dementia. This is devestating for the person and usually more so for their loved ones. Maybe that's why I got so upset yesterday when I realized my mistake. Maybe I felt like without the proof of these events, we would eventually lose track of how those events made us feel.
But playing with my children today I realized that whether my boys remember signing the giant baseball at Brookfield zoo or not is not going to make or break their childhood. What will make or break their young lives is the quality of the traces that I have helped to leave in their little hearts and souls. These go on. These will flow through them into adulthood and right on into their own families.
And, don't worry- I now am the proud owner of an external back-up hard drive : )
Now, did I lose my home to tropical storm Irene- NO; did I have to decide which of my children to attempt to save as I struggle to survive in famine riddled Somalia- Not even close. I have this in perspective now, but yesterday morning I couldn't see straight!
My boys are only getting older and bigger and I feel time slipping through my fingers- losing those images of them at the zoo and the civil war encampment and with my parents on the 4th of July felt like I was losing bits of our family.
This made me think of some of my patients that I work with and their families. Often, I work with individuals who have lost memories due to head injury or dementia. This is devestating for the person and usually more so for their loved ones. Maybe that's why I got so upset yesterday when I realized my mistake. Maybe I felt like without the proof of these events, we would eventually lose track of how those events made us feel.
But playing with my children today I realized that whether my boys remember signing the giant baseball at Brookfield zoo or not is not going to make or break their childhood. What will make or break their young lives is the quality of the traces that I have helped to leave in their little hearts and souls. These go on. These will flow through them into adulthood and right on into their own families.
And, don't worry- I now am the proud owner of an external back-up hard drive : )
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Friday, August 19, 2011
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
eyes wide open
When I swing a baseball bat, I swing with as much umph and strength that I can. I regularly make contact and the hits are decent, but not fabulous.
My husband tells me that I have a great swing- fast, hard, and consistent. He also said something that was oddly, and unintentionally, insightful- he said that if I keep my eyes open for the entire swing including the follow through- I will be "unstoppable."
Fear stands in the way of me making my dreams become reality, or rather turning my reality into my dreams. I am not afraid of that baseball, I know what's going to happen if it hits me, I know how I'll most likely react. I close my eyes during the follow through because I'm giving it all I have, trying to smack the tar out of the ball.
Epiphanies, by definition are "a sudden realization of great truth" and they seem to crop up in random places at unsuspecting times- and boy this was one for me. Standing at home plate at a local baseball diamond with my husband, 2 boys and my nephew on a gorgeous summer night- I realized that if I keep my eyes open during important parts of my life and continue to face whatever is coming at me with my full attention- than I can't miss!
Fear stands in the way of me making my dreams become reality, or rather turning my reality into my dreams. I am not afraid of that baseball, I know what's going to happen if it hits me, I know how I'll most likely react. I close my eyes during the follow through because I'm giving it all I have, trying to smack the tar out of the ball.I close my eyes during the follow through of my life, because I'm holding back- afraid to fail, afraid to make a mis-step somehow. My wish today is to keep my eyes open all the way through each pursuit and one of these days I know I'll hit it out of the park!!
Saturday, August 13, 2011
fingers crossed
Along my path, I expect to experience "bends" and obstacles. In fact, I spend much time preparing and protecting myself from these perils. However, I've become aware recently
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| image © held by AnnMarie Gitchell, 2011 |
Along my path, I expect to experience "bends" and obstacles. In fact, I spend much time preparing and protecting myself from these perils. However, I've become aware recently
that I spend hardly any time enjoying what each day has to offer me.
I preach to my children that they need to experience all that each day brings them. That they should shed the distress and woes of days gone by so that they may focus on the beauty that unfolds each morning.
But do I live this myself? No way. I don't come close to this ideal. Today I asked myself what holds me back from living in the moment. The answer came back quickly and unequivically- FEAR. Fear of failure, fear of going against the comfortable grain that I have sown for myself, fear of the unknown.
I place this quote here before all of us as a reminder that NOTHING IS WORTH MORE THAN TODAY.
Let's promise each other to say this everyday. If we say it, we can believe it and eventually we can live it. Fingers crossed!
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