S is for Saturday, S is for sleep

It’s been five full days of little changes. Coincidence or not, I had the energy last night to take in an evening of amazing performances by young musicians at our provincial music festival: solo performers, high school students, forcing air through brass instruments in ways that made your spine tingle, or offering up musical theatre performers that made you think,for a moment, they were really an unwed father, a waitress, or Fanny Bryce. As unique as their selections, disciplines and adjudicators, there was one unifying piece of advice. Keep it simple.

Talk about a sign of being on the right track, I thought at home, drinking my last glass of water of the day and munching my carrot. There was one competitor, with the voice of an angel and costumes the quality of Broadway. She did very well. The winner, however, had a more subtle voice, darker and more understated songs, and simple outfits – basic black with accents, depending on he characters. She was edged the winner for her simplicity and clearer connection with her songs. Simple and real. She has that now in her discipline. I’m hoping to get there.

So what to do today? Keep doing what I’m doing. And add one more thing kind to my body: sleep. A half hour earlier, every night. That means no more dozing in front of the TV, no playing on my iPad. Go to bed at 10:30, go to sleep. Nothing more simple than that.

Thanks for being here. See you tomorrow.

Airing things out: KISS Day 5

Just breathe. Well-meaning folks would tell me that, and I would want to choke them. What do you mean, breathe? What do you think I’m doing, flapping my gills? Of course I’m breathing, you twit! How is that going to help me calm down/finish this presentation/get through the next five minutes? It turns out they were being very helpful, and I was/am the twit. Most days, without thought, my breathing is so constricted and uncommitted that the air I take in could barely keep a bird alive, even a tiny bird, like a robin. An adult at rest can take 12-20 breaths per minute. Those breaths need to fill the lungs with air. That air contains the oxygen our body needs for its own internal combustion. We can go days without water and weeks without food, but only a few minutes without oxygen. yet when we’re stressed or preoccupied, our muscles constrict and our breathing gets shallow, reducing our flow of oygen when we need it the most. But that’s what burnout feels like, at least to me: body, mind and spirit all arguing and pushing each other around like drunken siblings at a family reunion, desperate to connect but too damaged and immature to figure out how.

So now, on Day Five, I am trying hydration through extra water, nutrition with my extra serving of vegetables, a wee bit of exercise to build muscle and vent negative energy, 15 minutes of mindful quiet (or in simpler terms, a nap), and now, breathing. Real breathing. A slow, deep breath in, held for a second or two, then released slowly, a controlled trickle taking with it a painful memory, a chunk of undigested bitterness, a shard of stress. Then repeat. Again. Ten in a row of these slow, deep, deliberate breaths. I did them this morning when I woke up, that familiar knot already settled firmly in my gut. Now, I’m at my desk, about to finish my first task of the day, enjoying the sunshine, looking forward to breakfast (and my extra glass of water).

Thanks for being here. See you tomorrow.

KISS Day Four: Where’s the rest?

I can’t remember the last time I did anything four days in a row, which is no doubt why I am now engaged in a search for healing. An unstructured schedule completely adrift on the tide of life sounds like a paradise, but the reality is most of us need some sort of anchor, base or structure to call home. For now, my structure is this 30-day challenge to heal my fried adrenals through tiny, realistic changes. And do you know what? After only three full days, I have a concrete result to report.

Last night. I had committed earlier in the day to five minutes daily on the trampoline. By suppertime, though, I had a splitting headache and my body felt like it had run a marathon. I flopped on the couch, too tired, aching, and sad to move. I’ll add it tomorrow, I told myself as I dragged up the stairs to help youngest daughter get ready for bed. The trampoline is in her room, and of course was mounded with stuffed animals, yesterday’s jeans and tomorrow’s outfit. I stared at the plush pile of rounded bodies topped with unblinking eyes. You can do this. Five minutes. Daughter lent me her iPod, I swept off the trampoline and with Carly Rae Jepson singing her heart out, I bounced for five minutes. I returned to the couch still tired, still achy, but with a sense of accomplishment. A half hour later, my mood was clearer. What was once hopeless was now calm. I kept a promise to myself. I did something good for myself. The cost? Five minutes.

So to recap, I am drinking more water, eating an extra vegetable, and now bouncing for five minutes. Time for a rest. I need it. We all need it. Don’t believe me? Check history and the globe. Cultures the world over still shutter businesses at midday for an afternoon break. A generation ago, many Nova Scotia houses had a cot in the kitchen next to the stove; you ate dinner, napped, then went back at it till dark. Modern schedules, though, treat lunch time as another work hour, routinely scheduling meetings, appointments, and commitments that have no focus on eating or recharging. That midafternoon slump? Beat it with snacks and caffeine, they say. Listen to it, I say, and have a rest. So here’s my Day Four addition: 15 minutes of afternoon rest, every day. Maybe a nap, snuggled in bed with my quilt. Or maybe a quiet time nestled on the couch, eyes closed, phone off, hum of traffic in my ear, kiss of sun on my cheek, mindful relaxation and letting go.

That’s it. Nothing special. But I’m really looking forward to it. Fifteen whole minutes. Enough for a dream.

Thanks for being here. See you tomorrow.

Adding some crunch: KISS Day Two

Here we are, Keep It Super Simple path to feeling better, Day Two. So far so good with the water, the only issue being increased demand for the facilities (five people, two bathrooms, you get the idea). Today, I’m feeling the need for crunch. Crunching is so satisfying to the senses: it feels good, sounds impressive, adds attitude to the mundane. My favourite walk is a path steeped in the spent leaves of autumn. My favourite snacks: Doritos, tortillas, kettle chips, popcorn smothered in white cheddar powder … yum. However, since it is spring (or supposed to be) in Nova Scotia, the only thing crunching underfoot are my dreams of sunshine and while my snacks are craved by mouth and mind, my body and spirit are politely raising their hands and pleading for something with a vitamin, maybe a mineral, too, if it’s not too much trouble. So, my addition for today: add a half-cup of vegetables to my daily diet. I actually like veggies, even for breakfast when I saute onions and peppers to go with my scrambled eggs. But most of us don’t eat enough; 7-8 servings for a girl my age, according to Canada’s Food Guide. One serving is half a green pepper, a quarter of a cucumber, a carrot. I’m going to eat my extra serving raw for the crunch and at night to start weaning myself from the fat fest that is my evening snack. The raw veggie thing is also a great habit former as we in Nova Scotia roll into our natural fresh produce season. Local farmer’s markets, including our awesome New Glasgow market, are now open for the season. Local farm fresh – good in so many ways.

Thanks for listening! See you tomorrow.