Learning How to Receive

I have been very open about the fact that it was a tough year for us.  We were blessed enough that although I was without employment for 8 months, Chris was teaching the entire time.  We scaled back quite a bit and tightened up our spending.  We always had a full pantry and freezer, so it was hard but never the devastation that others have faced.  We had a lot of support when we needed it and we were very lucky.  

With Christmas upon us, we decided last month that we would have a smaller year.  We prepared the kids and they all agreed that we were grateful for what we had and we didn't need anything.  We let our family and friends know that with the current situation of the pandemic, we would celebrate with them after the holidays and after the lock downs were lifted.  Our plan was to take out our friends and family for one-on-one evening of re-connection later on.  The intention was to appreciate what we had now.  And honestly, there wasn't a lot to spare.  We were coming out of an 8 month hole.  Although we were at peace with our decisions, we definitely missed finding the perfect gift for our friends and family. 

In November, I got my job.  A dream job, really-my professional dream.  With the additional income, we altered our plans and bought some gifts for the kids.  It wasn't the Christmas we normally have, but it was nice to surprise them with a few things.  

They say it's better to give than to receive.  Everyone in my life has a very giving heart.  They volunteer and give as part of their life.  It's second nature.  The truth is, it's hard to receive.  I had a conversation two days ago with someone who prayed to have the heart to receive when the helpers came to her.  When you are so used to giving, and suddenly you have to be on the receiving end, it's not easy to swallow some pride and be humble with grace.  It's definitely something I have had to do.  It's something I need to continue to work on. 

Yesterday I found myself reminding myself to receive with an open and humble heart.  People we love bestowed gift upon gift to us.  People at work were dropping off Christmas blessings wrapped in paper and pretty bows in my office.  My boss bestowed a generous gift to me.  Someone sent me a Secret Santa in the form of a season paid for my running group.  At one point yesterday afternoon, it all felt like so much and I sat at my desk at work with tears in my eyes.  I felt so grateful.  I still do.  Many of these people (not all-my work friends have no way of knowing what we went through for 8 months) knew what our year looked like and still found us worthy of symbols of their love and kindness and thoughtfulness.  Chris and I took a deep breath and looked at each other and accepted the love and gifts with the receiving heart that these blessings deserve.  

It's been a year for the books, for sure.  We were reminded to cherish what is important and to shed the superfluous.  I don't think I will ever take anything for granted ever again.  I know I won't.  I still have a lot to learn about receiving.  It's hard.  But I am more aware of the importance of letting a giver give.  I can't steal anyone's joy in giving because it's hard to receive.  I will look them in the eye and thank them and let them know how important they are to me.  I will have an open and receiving heart.  

One day life will be closer to the normal we are used to.  Until then, I will continue to embrace the lessons that 2020 is forcing me to learn. 

Facing Mortality or Embracing Life's Moments?

A few of my friends know this, but I am terrified of dying.  I've kept this to myself mostly for a long time.  I know it is completely counter to my beliefs as a Christian woman because I do believe in the glory and the peace of heaven and being reunited with my loved ones that have passed before me.  But when I think about it and of not existing, I have a panic attack.  When this happens, Chris comes to me and just holds me and talks to me.  I don't care what he says, he just has to talk.  I need to be distracted from this fear that makes me freeze.  It usually passes and then I try to find peace in prayer, surrounding myself with family, putting good out in the world and deep breathing.  My panic attacks don't last very long and I have been trying very hard to keep them at bay, surrounding myself in peaceful situations.  A friend once told me that she thinks I am afraid because I am not done yet with this world-that I still have so much more to do.  I have been thinking about it since she told me and I think she is right.  Plus, I want to be here for my kids and their future milestones and their future children's milestones.  I think they still need me. 

And then there was COVID.  This is why I stayed in my living room on my own for most of the time since March.  This is why I walked alone with my pup at the lake.  I am not done yet and this pandemic wants so many people to be done.  I knew in my bones that if I contracted this virus that I would be on a vent and that the odds against me surviving were high.  There were some people that scoffed at me and that fear.  They are no longer in my life.  I am overweight and I spent 6 months last year sick with respiratory illness.  I knew I could not be reckless.  Despite conspiracy theories, this is not just the flu.  Thank goodness we have been safe and healthy so far. 

Amid all of these fears, I find myself working in a senior living community where there are varying degrees of health issues from completely healthy to needing more care with cognitive impairment.  I love every minute of it.  I don't think I can even communicate how much I love it.  You would think that with my family's history of Alzheimer's Disease that I would run far away from a memory care area of such a community.  It is my favorite place to visit during the day.  I always try to sneak a quick visit to our memory care unit to say hello and catch some smiles. Of course there are some tough moments in the day when there is confusion, but usually I see joy.

I think my new job is helping me face my fear.  Everyday these amazing people-I like to call them my friends-in the senior community live and laugh and play games and dance to music.  They are at the end of their years and are thriving and enjoying what moments are in our day, in whatever capacity they can.  I don't see fear.  I see smiles.  I see wisdom.  I see sass.  I see humor.  I see grouchiness.  I haven't seen fear yet.  And I haven't had a panic attack about dying since I started working there.  Maybe if I see peace and just daily living for the people who are older than I am more frequently, then I will have more peace as the number of days I have left on this earth decrease.  Maybe I will stop seeing it as facing mortality and start seeing it as embracing life's moments.  

I am working on changing my mindset.  I aim to see the good that happens instead of worrying and wallowing in the unfortunate.  It's not an easy shift but I think it will help me embrace life's moments and to get back to what I have considered my mantra since 2010:  Living instead of existing.  I am getting closer.    #2021MindsetChange

On Going Back to Work

8 months.  That’s how long I have been without a job due to the pandemic.  I didn’t look for a job at first.  We thought this wouldn’t last this long and to the extent it has grown/lost/extended?  Whatever the word is for we didn’t know the pandemic would cost 200,000+ lives.  Or that the economy would be trashed to the extent it is.  Or that we would reach 11.06 million people unemployed.  Whatever it is, we didn’t know.  We hoped to be back at work by July.  And then it was maybe September, December at the latest.  So, I took this time to work on me.  I filled my days with yoga and walks and learning how to bake.  I read 20 books.  I worked on my self-esteem and took up open water swimming.  I washed many dishes and loads of laundry and cooked many meals for my family.  I tried to find joy in whatever I could because as the days and weeks and months went on, sadness and depression took over.  I thought if I could just get through this…I was working through the stages of grief.  I was grieving the career I have built over 25 years.

And then things looked worse than ever.  My friends in the travel field, in parallel positions/sectors were let go from their companies.  Marriott Global was letting people go from their corporate offices by the droves.  This didn’t even happen after 9/11.  After talking to some friends in the same industry, we could see the writing on the wall that our beloved hotel business would not be coming back for a long, long time.

I started to apply for jobs.  Hundreds of jobs.  I wasn’t completely sure where I fit in anymore.  In the hospitality field, we have a ton of transferable skills.  Are companies going to really look at us?  I was discounted at first because I didn’t have the right experience.  And then I zeroed in on what I wanted to do, not on just having a job.  I have always wanted to work with the senior community.  I spent my favorite moments with my grandmother while growing up.  She was my best friend.  She saved me.  I loved our Saturday afternoons watching old movies and watching her cook.  We would dance around her living room to songs on her 8 -track tape deck.  Ha!  That ages me, doesn’t it?  It was Tony Orlando and Dawn’s “Tie a Yellow Ribbon 'Round the Old Oak Tree”….I can still sing it.  We would go to garage sales and to doll shows.  She collected dolls and by extension, so did I.  We would eat her Chicken Paprikash or Stuffed Cabbage or she would make her leftover pie, a casserole that was much like shepherds pie, but with all of the leftovers in her fridge-and I loved it.  The weekends at her house were my favorite.  She set the tone for me knowing how to relate to older people, for having something in common with them, for loving the time spent with them. 

After a handful of interviews-both good and bad-I landed the job of my dreams.  I am starting a position as the Director of Sales in a Senior Living Community.  I am bringing my skills in hospitality sales and building relationships and applying it to a community I adore. 

And the pandemic is surging.  I am excited and scared.  Lord knows I am careful, wearing a mask everywhere and spending days alone in my living room if it seems I have been around too many people.  I am excited, beyond excited, to start a new career journey.  I am excited about my new team and my new boss.  He laughs and says, “Is this my new Director of Sales?” whenever he needs to call me. I know they are excited to have me and that makes me happy.  I am excited to be a functioning member of society again and to be a contributing member of my family again.  It has been tough financially for 8 months.  I am thrilled to be paid what I asked for, without push-back, with my boss telling me I am worth it. 

And the pandemic is still surging and I am still scared.  I am going into a community of people.  I have been tested for COVID again (negative-yay!) and they have safety protocols, but…people.  Not to mention I will have to put on real shoes and a bra again.  Haha….. I am so much the chick in a renaissance era painting…fat and laying around with her boobs out. 

The nice thing is this is deemed an essential industry, so once the vaccines are available, I will be eligible to get it early.  And, yes, I will be getting it.  I already had my flu shot this year. 

I anticipate bringing my circle in a little tighter again.  I will be spending lots more time with my little family and preparing for my son and his girlfriend moving back to San Diego by the end of the year.  I anticipate less tip-toeing around what feels safe and being a lot stricter on what I can and can’t do.  There is just too much at stake. 

Time to work on that breathing again—inhale and exhale and doing what I can to keep me and those around me safe.  I will control what I can:  washing my hands, social distancing, wearing a mask and not having any prolonged contact with people.  I haven’t been sick since January.  After spending six months with respiratory illness last year, this is a big deal. 

Mask on, sanitizer ready….tomorrow, I go back in.  (I am breathing).

The Joy of Open Water Swimming

Open Water Swimming.  Sounds petrifying, doesn't it?  It was for me for a long time, and if I am being honest, it still is.  Every time I drive to an open water swim session, I psych myself out.  Sharks, rough tide, big waves.  Sometimes I secretly hope the fog will overtake the shoreline, like it did one Sunday morning, so that we can forego the workout and go straight for the coffee shop afterwards instead.  The truth though, is I am always happier after I have spent time in the ocean.  How did it take until I was almost 50 years old for me to figure this out? 

I have always thought the ocean was powerful and  yet calm at the same time.  When I moved back to California 10 years ago, I kept a beach chair and a towel and a pair of flip flops in the back of my zippy blue Prius in case I ever had a moment to sit on the beach I lived just 7 miles from.  I often stopped there after errands.  If I had to drive down the coast, I opted to drive Pacific Coast Highway instead of the 5 freeway.  I was never the sit in the sun and douse my body with baby oil teenager.  Remind me to thank my young self now since I don't have the sun wrinkles and the skin cancer to contend with as reminders of those choices.  When I was starting my life over at 0, the ocean felt like a place of hope.  I didn't go in much back then.  I watched the stillness as well as the power of the water.  I smelled the sea air.  I listened to the waves crashing on the sand.  It centered me.  I felt my spine unwind in these moments.  

Somewhere along the way I was gifted the amazing friendships of people who did things I never thought I could do.  In my mind I stopped being an athlete a million years ago.  Sure, I completed half marathons, but I was never fast.  I was a fat, single "soccer mom."  My friend Angela convinced me, along with a couple of other friends to go to an open water swim session.  I brought my friend Vickie and we tried it and took a couple of lessons.  We were never confident.  After we heard of a shark attack on the same beach (the kid was chumming lobster traps and got bitten), we got scared and didn't come back for a year and a half.  No joke.  We were out.  

So fast forward to this year.  Covid-19 and the year that shall not be named, 2020.  Vickie and I decided to try this again.  We recruited some friends to join us.  Soon, we had a small pod of beginners like us to try swimming in the ocean again.  Suddenly there was time and a need for an outlet.  The group we started with before had grown and changed names to One With The Ocean, led by the swim mechanic, himself, Bryan.  This was a year of loss.  I lost my job due to the pandemic.   I no longer had routine.  I gained some weight--I didn't social distance enough from the fridge.  I lost some motivation--Depression will do that to you.  But Sundays at Moonlight Beach were always something to look forward to.  I wasn't afraid to be at the beach amidst the pandemic quarantine.  I was afraid of everywhere else...to the point that I stopped going to my running group with my beloved running friends.  Somehow I felt safer.  

This pod of swimmers, my friends, we were basically all beginners.  We still are.  There were zero expectations of what we could do.  We knew we weren't up to the task of keeping up with the workouts yet.  But we thought if we kept trying, then one day we would be swimming the loops along with the best of them.  The people with One With The Ocean are some of the kindest, most giving people I have ever met.  It felt very much like the comfort of my run group.  Swimming in the ocean was new.  I remember thinking, "You mean, we are going to go past where the waves start??  Ridiculous!"  Fear and lots of no ways crossed my mind.  But we kept trying.  Antony, one of the nicest people in the group, helped us learn how to dive under waves and hold onto the sand so we can avoid the crash on top of us.  He taught us about watching the timing and swimming when we are waist deep in the water and to not waste too much energy fighting the tide before going for it.  Before you knew it, he had us past the break.  I remember being completely in awe of the fact that I was so far from shore.  There is a sense of giving up control.  Letting go, I was filled with joy and excitement.  I was on a complete high the entire drive home and I don't think I took a breath while chattering to my friend Jessica, while we were in the car.  There was nothing like it.  

I bought all the gadgets...new goggles, a sharkbanz (I look like a seal in a wet suit and if this gave me peace of mind, then it was worth it.  I haven't been eaten yet!), a wet suit, swim shoes.  Our swim pod started going every Sunday.  We were getting braver each week.  We would get past the break and then just hang out paddling and laughing and catching up while floating.  We called it floats and strokes.  We would float and take some strokes and then do it again.  We were really just trying to get used to being in the water so far from the beach.  My favorite times of the week were past the break during our little mid swim chat sessions.  I laughed all the time.  We were silly.  We were playing.  It was light, when the rest of the world felt so heavy.  Soon, a few of us started to add an extra day at another location to try and get better with our strokes and to see how much farther we could swim.  We started watching instructional videos to have the proper stroke.  It was our new obsession.  And we still laughed every time we were together.  Everyday in the water was joy.  

The quarantine and all of the fallout of Covid-19 is hard on everyone.  I am not sure I know anyone who hasn't had a touch of the blues.  My depression hit pretty hard in June.  I found healing and joy in the ocean.  I jumped at the chance to be in the water anytime I could.  Twice a week I swam with the group.  Suddenly the gals in my swim pod would suggest we meet in the evenings every now and then before the sun set for a swim session.  Oh my goodness.  The fun these evenings were and are.  When I am with them in the water, I just giggle riding the swells of what will be waves crashing onto the beach.  I find myself smiling from ear to ear as we try to navigate around the kelp to get past the break and just hang out in the water.  We are surrounded by calm and we are just beyond the power of the tide.  And I feel peace.  And I feel joy.  And I feel the fun of playtime again.  It was a revelation when I realized we have been playing in the waves.  When is the last time anyone has just played?  Before all of this, I haven't played with the freedom of a child in decades.  

I recently read the book, Why We Swim, by Bonnie Tsui.  I was transfixed.  Everything I read, I found myself nodding in agreement.  In her book, she writes: "Swimming is by definition the state of not drowning."  Man, oh man.  I was drowning before I started to swim in the open water.  I was drowning in sadness and lack of direction in a changing, scary world.  In the ocean, I found bravery.  I became brave to try new things, in so many different ways.  In the ocean, I found fun.  My friends and I laughed and laughed every time we put our toes in the water.  In the ocean, the problems of the moment could be sorted out.  We solved all sorts of current events in our middle of the ocean tea parties.  In the ocean, I found joy.  My cries of despair turned into cries of joy.  It's been a long time since I have laughed so much.  Unbridled Joy.  I have described my experiences in the water this way a few times.  There are no other words that do it the justice that these two simple words convey.  I found joy.  

I have learned through open water swimming that sometimes the unexpected things will bring you the greatest rewards.  I've also learned that the dark times we are in?  They won't last forever.  Maybe I am learning to navigate it all a little better?  Bryan teaches us to remember our breathing when we are swimming.  I hear his voice, "Inhale, exhale." He teaches us to keep our eyes on the shore.  Inhale.  Exhale.  Watch for our sighting.  Everyday the tide comes in and everyday the tide goes out. Inhale.  Exhale.  Breathe.  

I am breathing easier these days.  And I think that helps me find joy everywhere else too.