I used to be terrified of needles. I couldn't even watch someone getting a shot or having blood drawn on TV. The one and only time I donated blood was my senior year of high school. I was so pale and anxious that the nurses kept giving me extra cookies and wouldn't let me get up from the chair for fear of me fainting.
Did you ever see the movie Pearl Harbor? It's full of graphic war scenes, but the part I absolutely could not watch was when they needed blood and proceeded to stick themselves and drain it into coke bottles. :::shudder:::
Flash forward, last night I was laying face down with over 20 needles in my back, neck, and legs, having an acupuncture treatment.
I basically got over my fear of needles during my first pregnancy. The frequency certainly helped, having to face the fear over and over again eventually diminishes it's hold on you. But it was also the thought that I was doing it for a greater purpose. After all, I was going to go through labor, if I couldn't handle a little needle, what would become of me when it came time to deliver a baby? So I gritted my teeth and put on my big girl shoes.
Laying on a table with tiny needles sticking out of my body would at one point send me into a panic attack...I'll be honest, I have to consciously remind myself to breathe in the beginning when the acupuncturist starts putting the needles in, but after I cross that initial threshold, I let myself relax. I sometimes even doze off.
It's funny how something that used to terrify, is now a source of healing. It encourages me that though the circumstances of the moment might be less than perfect, in the long run, it might be the very thing we need.
Friday, October 19, 2012
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Why I'm not going to tell you who I'm voting for
Every four years I am told that the future of our country is at stake. That if I don't choose the right person, the world will fall to pieces, people will riot in the streets, or plagues of God will smite me.
I am told that my one tiny vote could be the difference between tyranny and freedom. blah blah blah.
Don't get me wrong, I know it's important, I know that the outcome of this next presidential election will set the trajectory for the next four years. But the constant drone of news coverage and social media posts, soon transforms into the screeching of a little chicken. You can only hear, "the sky is falling", so many times before you start to contemplate frying that chicken up for dinner.
The first election I ever voted in was 2004 (Bush V. Kerry). This was an interesting experience for me not just because it was the first election I was able to vote in, but because I did it through absentee ballot from Rome, where I was doing a study abroad semester. Under the tutilage of my very political, history major roommate, I woke up at three in the morning to watch the debates live on CNN, and spent hours talking about it the next day with other students. I remember going with one of my friends to the American embassy so that he could turn in his vote since he missed the cut off to mail it.
My first leap into politics was a weird mix of this kind of extreme commitment and physical distance. I actually feel lucky to have had this unique experience, since most of the news was from Europe and more focused on a worldwide perspective. Being removed from the battle ground, I didn't have to endure endless campaign commercials and I wasn't bombarded by 24 hour news coverage. The news that did come about the election was from a more international-dare I say, more rounded- perspective.
In 2008, back in the good old USA, I realized just how lucky I had been. Now, with another season upon us, it feels like the clamoring gets louder every time. Oh Roma, I miss you. I'm thinking if I ever get rich enough, I'll make a pilgrimage every four years, rent out a nice villa, and not come back till the second week in November.
I'm one of those people who "doesn't like politics". Actually, what I dislike more than politics is talking about it (okay, irony, I get it, bare with me). I'm an old fashioned kind of girl when it comes to some things. I think a man should take out the garbage, and that it's tres taboo to talk about politics at a dinner party. The most annoying one of all, though these things have become quite socially acceptable, my inner Dowager Countess can't help but wince when someone asks, "who are you voting for?"
Recently I tried to figure out why this bothers me so much. I mean, it's good to voice our opinions right? We should be able to engage in civil dialogue about the issues and the candidates. The thing is, it's not that simple.
To me, it has less to do about the candidates or the issues, or even the election, and more to do with our intense desire as human beings to know that we belong.
We want to know that someone is on our side, and if they are not, we want to convince them of why they are wrong (like that ever works!)
I have friends on both sides of the figurative aisle, my Facebook feed is a blue and red finger painting--I guess that makes me purple? It feels like middle school all over again, the need to fit in with a group, the fear of being rejected by one side or the other, that keeps us quietly going along with the status quo. Even as a young child, when we used to do mock elections in elementary school (oh the cardboard ballot box!) I didn't get it. What's the point in having a secret ballot if you go around asking and telling? Must we all put a button on our shirt or a sign on our lawn and declare our allegiance?
A few months ago I stumbled upon this TED talks video that spoke to the power of democracy, and also helped me to understand where this disconnect was coming from. It touched my politically-jaded heart and made me believe again:
To vote is not just a right, it's a sacred honor, a gift. The very fact that it is important, is what makes it worth protecting.
While I don't begrudge anyone who wants to make their choice known, that's your right too, for me, if anyone asks I'll have to say, "my vote is in my heart."
I am told that my one tiny vote could be the difference between tyranny and freedom. blah blah blah.
Don't get me wrong, I know it's important, I know that the outcome of this next presidential election will set the trajectory for the next four years. But the constant drone of news coverage and social media posts, soon transforms into the screeching of a little chicken. You can only hear, "the sky is falling", so many times before you start to contemplate frying that chicken up for dinner.
The first election I ever voted in was 2004 (Bush V. Kerry). This was an interesting experience for me not just because it was the first election I was able to vote in, but because I did it through absentee ballot from Rome, where I was doing a study abroad semester. Under the tutilage of my very political, history major roommate, I woke up at three in the morning to watch the debates live on CNN, and spent hours talking about it the next day with other students. I remember going with one of my friends to the American embassy so that he could turn in his vote since he missed the cut off to mail it.
My first leap into politics was a weird mix of this kind of extreme commitment and physical distance. I actually feel lucky to have had this unique experience, since most of the news was from Europe and more focused on a worldwide perspective. Being removed from the battle ground, I didn't have to endure endless campaign commercials and I wasn't bombarded by 24 hour news coverage. The news that did come about the election was from a more international-dare I say, more rounded- perspective.
In 2008, back in the good old USA, I realized just how lucky I had been. Now, with another season upon us, it feels like the clamoring gets louder every time. Oh Roma, I miss you. I'm thinking if I ever get rich enough, I'll make a pilgrimage every four years, rent out a nice villa, and not come back till the second week in November.
I'm one of those people who "doesn't like politics". Actually, what I dislike more than politics is talking about it (okay, irony, I get it, bare with me). I'm an old fashioned kind of girl when it comes to some things. I think a man should take out the garbage, and that it's tres taboo to talk about politics at a dinner party. The most annoying one of all, though these things have become quite socially acceptable, my inner Dowager Countess can't help but wince when someone asks, "who are you voting for?"
Recently I tried to figure out why this bothers me so much. I mean, it's good to voice our opinions right? We should be able to engage in civil dialogue about the issues and the candidates. The thing is, it's not that simple.
To me, it has less to do about the candidates or the issues, or even the election, and more to do with our intense desire as human beings to know that we belong.
We want to know that someone is on our side, and if they are not, we want to convince them of why they are wrong (like that ever works!)
I have friends on both sides of the figurative aisle, my Facebook feed is a blue and red finger painting--I guess that makes me purple? It feels like middle school all over again, the need to fit in with a group, the fear of being rejected by one side or the other, that keeps us quietly going along with the status quo. Even as a young child, when we used to do mock elections in elementary school (oh the cardboard ballot box!) I didn't get it. What's the point in having a secret ballot if you go around asking and telling? Must we all put a button on our shirt or a sign on our lawn and declare our allegiance?
A few months ago I stumbled upon this TED talks video that spoke to the power of democracy, and also helped me to understand where this disconnect was coming from. It touched my politically-jaded heart and made me believe again:
To vote is not just a right, it's a sacred honor, a gift. The very fact that it is important, is what makes it worth protecting.
While I don't begrudge anyone who wants to make their choice known, that's your right too, for me, if anyone asks I'll have to say, "my vote is in my heart."
Monday, October 1, 2012
squeaky clean
I like my showers hot, like turn your skin red hot. Especially when the cool weather starts to creep in, there's nothing more comforting than a steam filled bathroom.
No one told me when I first had children, that this very simple pleasure would very quickly become a luxury.
This morning with the baby asleep, and my three year old occupied with his morning cartoons, I took a long, hot, shower, and felt all the stress, anxiety, and grime wash away. The saying is true, you really don't know what you've got till it's gone. But maybe that's okay. Maybe you need the loss and the change to make you appreciate just how lovely even the simple moments can be.
Because it's not happiness that makes you grateful, it's gratitude that makes you happy.
I think I can squeeze in a cup of tea before the baby wakes up...
No one told me when I first had children, that this very simple pleasure would very quickly become a luxury.
This morning with the baby asleep, and my three year old occupied with his morning cartoons, I took a long, hot, shower, and felt all the stress, anxiety, and grime wash away. The saying is true, you really don't know what you've got till it's gone. But maybe that's okay. Maybe you need the loss and the change to make you appreciate just how lovely even the simple moments can be.
Because it's not happiness that makes you grateful, it's gratitude that makes you happy.
I think I can squeeze in a cup of tea before the baby wakes up...
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