By Courtney Pierce
The late-great David Bowie had the best advice for
weathering tough times: Turn and face the
strain. I’ve sung that line from Changes
a hundred—maybe
even a thousand—times in my fifty-nine years. Like many other baby boomers,
I’ve lost a job or two, lost family members, and lost a husband (not by death, but a
loss nonetheless). Any one of those derailments of life is particularly tough
on the psyche.
But as is the way with Mother Nature, traumas are
balanced with great joys. I’ve excelled in a career or two, won the hearts of
two parents and two sisters, and gained an amazing husband and a stepdaughter from
the ashes of devastation.
I owe it all to checklists. Don’t laugh. I’m completely
serious.
I make lists about everything: complicated things, mundane
things, and lists of lists I should make. Emotions are difficult for me to
process, so when they’re part of a list, I can keep those tears and fears at
arm’s length. We writers banish these big things to the page, not on our sleeve.
Rationalize, monetize, organize. Salute!
But then I think about the stupid things that many people deem to
be traumas, like losing keys or trying to squeeze into those favorite jeans that don't fit anymore. Sometimes there’s
no trauma at all, only an endurance test of the daily assaults of life. How
much time do I spend deleting spam or interrupt a game of Scrabble to check my
work email? I need to make sure someone else’s trauma doesn’t become mine. I’m
never prepared for the Wi-fi router going out or my laptop inching like a slug
from Internet slow-downs. And what about when the Bluetooth on the Bose has ceased to
pair with the music library on my phone?
What the heck? Stop the presses! Is
this fake trauma like fake news?
But nobody dies from these things. No one’s kids are maimed.
Let’s put the challenges in prospective in our instant-gratification, now-means-now
world. All anyone really needs to re-calibrate is to lose electricity for a week or two.
The absence of a 60-cycle hum of appliances makes me take notice.
Ahhhh… After a day or two, I get used to the lack of rush from the heater or air
conditioner. The still atmosphere makes my skin soft and supple. No ambient
light from neglecting to turn off the switches ceases my huff and puff about the
electric bill. No phone, either, without cable or satellite. We learned our haste from a pattern of waste.
I say a silent “thank you” when the power goes out. My urge
to reconnect with my neighbors is powerful, and I reach out to friends for a
long overdue lunch to become grounded again. If you’ve been through a hurricane,
tornado, flood, or any natural disaster, then you know what I mean. The pull to
walk away from technology is overwhelming after a couple of days without it.
Then I dread that power coming on again. The respite is over. Back to normal
life.
But what about emotional disasters? Relationship-changing
disasters are quick to slice and slow to heal, űber-sore like an infected
paper cut. I won’t lie, they carry a sting that’s hard to let go. Long after
the clean-up of carnage is done, the invisible arrow still protrudes from the
chest. Try as I might, I can’t yank it out on my own. Only those close to me, with
a commitment of mutual love, know how to twist and inch out that spear.
My two sisters are quite colorful, Siblings
can be wonderful at alleviating relationship stress.
We subscribe to the “What doesn’t kill us
makes us stronger” rule for weathering the traumas of life. It's up there with the 7-second rule for food items dropped on the floor and headed to the mouth. Here's our recipe:
Shut off the T.V. . . .
Shut off the radio . . .
Close the browser . . .
Pour a big glass of wine and make a bowl of popcorn . . .
Then take stock.
Photo: Loma Smith |
Check out all of Courtney's books at:
courtney-pierce.com and windtreepress.com. Both print and E-books are available through most major online retailers, including Amazon.com
COMING SOON! |
New York Times best-selling author Karen Karbo says, "Courtney Pierce spins a madcap tale of family grudges, sisterly love, unexpected romance, mysterious mobsters and dog love. Reading Indigo Lake is like drinking champagne with a chaser of Mountain Dew. Pure Delight."
4 comments:
You are so right that we tend to magnify the importance of normal life stressors, like the internet going down for a few hours. For the Big Bad Events, we forget the importance of quiet, restful contemplation, until we're forced into it through circumstances.
Great post!
I really enjoyed your insightful post. I always say "This to shall pass". and then I reflect on other life traumas that did pass. Thanks again!
Courtney, you are correct in saying that many things that are seen as traumatic are really not. We do get used to our comforts (like AC in the summer and Heat in the winter, hot & cold running water). But those are inconveniences and while we may be uncomfortable, for that vast majority of us, it is not life-threatening. I give myself parts of days each week when I do not watch t.v. or hours when I do not use the computer. I like being disconnected to the vast electronic universe so I can be better connected to The Universe.
Great post, Courtney! It makes me think back to my childhood when I could "run away" from my stressors by climbing the tree in my backyard. I could climb so high among the branches that no one could see me among the leaves. I was also the oldest and must climbing adept, so my siblings wouldn't follow either. I could set there for hours contemplating the universe and put my daily troubles in perspective.
In my early adult life I would take hikes in nature almost every weekend to get perspective, often camping out with good friends. Of course, that was all before we had an entire computer in our phones and could easily connect with anyone in the world in microseconds. I admit to missing those days.
The problem with always being electronically connected is it gives me a false sense that I can also always be "on" and working. Or should be. I wonder if people who have grown up with these devices feel the same way. If so, it is exhausting.
One of my goals for 2018 is to find a way to disconnect and be in nature every week. Maybe choose a day off from the devices. I can work in an hour a few times a week, but I'm finding that's not enough. I guess I'll have to find a tree to climb. :)
Looking forward to Indigo Legacy. Can't wait to read the end of that series.
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