Step 1 – Self-Awareness

A year has passed since panic, shot nerves and distress led to a significant decrease in strength.  Or was it the other way around?  Engulfed in a befuddling mental fog, overwhelmed by small tasks, dizzied by dim lights and shocked by loud noises; it was a relief when my doctor’s office called me last October to come in and discuss some routine blood work I had done a few weeks earlier.  Otherwise, it would have never occurred to me to see him at all for such wishy-washy mood-related symptoms. 

When I sat down in his office, I burst into tears as I described the strange sensations I had been experiencing.  He mentioned that I was deficient in iron and B12, which may have been a contributing factor to my dizziness.  He then went on to suggest I take neurotransmitter enhancers or some such term.  My interest was piqued—in my muddled mind I thought he was talking of brain boosting supplements.  It wasn’t until he listed all the side effects that I realized he meant anti-depressants.

I was shocked.  I share the same views as Elizabeth Gilbert (author of my favourite book Eat, Pray, Love) when it comes to anti-depressants.  My instinctive reaction is to avoid them as I would brain-frying cocaine or body-busting prednisone; but I do concede that they can be an effective last resort in extreme cases such as Elizabeth’s suicidal episode or the somnambulant and disconnected phase of despair a friend of mine lived through.  However, I certainly didn’t think my case was the rock-bottom kind that would justify such drugs.

When I shared my thoughts with my doctor, he allayed my concerns by explaining that his job was to present me with all the available options and that he wouldn’t force me into anything I was uncomfortable with.  He then unexpectedly deviated from the conventional doctor’s path.  It’s all a blur now, but I remember being utterly baffled when he mentioned that I had accumulated a wealth of good karma, that this period was simply a moment of rebirth and that I should practice guided imagery to assuage my nerves.  He then spent a good fifteen minutes leading me on a relaxing mental trip. I left the office with a prescription for iron and B12, a doctor’s note suggesting I take a two-week break from work and a dazed smile on my face.

His comment about rebirth really struck a chord with me.  Maybe this turbulent period of my life symbolized Shiva’s destruction of old ineffective patterns of thinking, leaving room for the birth of healthier habits.

A year later, as I reflect on the positive changes that have taken root within me since that tenebrous season, I can see how I’ve started to flourish.  Although I’d already been convinced of the power of positive thought and the law of attraction, it wasn’t until last winter that I seriously started monitoring my emotions and thoughts as an attempt to mend my troubled mental state.  And no wonder I had never done it before, because it can be draining and irritating to be constantly vigilant of one’s thinking…but it does get easier.  And this new self-awareness was definitely worth the trouble.

I’ve always considered myself a fairly happy and positive person, but when I really started paying attention to my thinking patterns, I was surprised to discover how frequently I entertained self-limiting thoughts and how often I created obstacles in my mind before I was even faced with a problem:  not attending certain functions because there would most likely be stairs, not joining some friends at an event because I would most likely be a burden, dismissing the idea of a trip because it would probably be too inconvenient, not getting involved in a relationship because the other person would probably not be able to handle my situation, not sitting down in a waiting room because it’s unlikely that somebody would be able or willing to help me get up again. 

I know that when I hear myself making excuses, I should nip them in the bud and just focus on the desired outcome.  I’m sure if I do that, all those anticipated kinks to my plans will iron themselves out somehow.  So if I want to attend that workshop that has piqued my interest, I should just go and have faith that an appropriate parking spot will appear, that somehow I’ll manage to get myself to the designated room, that kind people will be around to help me up from my chair.

Yesterday, I spoke for the first time with Jen, an inspiring woman with LGMD.  When I found out she had travelled by plane all by herself to visit our friend YouTube John, I was overcome with immense admiration for her. Jen has gotten over her hang-ups about asking for help, which has brought her so much freedom. If she wants to go to a restaurant, she sits down in a chair without a second thought, and when it’s time to leave, she scouts the restaurant for the strongest waiter and simply asks him to help her up.  At the hotel where she stayed (by herself!!!!), she felt like lying down by the pool, so she dropped herself onto a chaise longue and asked a passer-by to lift her up when it was time to go.  And my favourite is when Jen and John went to the Empire State Building; there were 3 steps leading to the elevator, so Jen and John asked one of the workers to give them a piggy back ride up the stairs.  I’ve always declined piggyback rides because I felt I’d be too cumbersome for the person offering the help.  Well Jen and John are 6 and 9 inches taller than me and they had no problems asking a complete stranger for a piggyback ride!!!  Even John’s brother-in-law carried them up the 60 or so steps in front of the Philadelphia Museum of Art (the same ones Rocky Balboa used for his rigorous training!)

I think that now that I’ve learned to better monitor my thoughts, my goal for this new year is to follow Jen’s lead and to get out more, participate, join…without a second glance at the potential hurdles.  After all, if people pay to ride on roller coasters, surely I can leave my safe abode and expose myself to the precariousness of life as experienced from a wobbly body.

Another moment of self-awareness was acknowledging how I let outside circumstances influence my moods and reactions (especially when I’m tired), allowing anger, frustration, worry or depression to reign over me when the circumstances are not so pleasant.

I know I should be the one steering in this river of life, by consciously choosing how to think and act in different situations. But sometimes I’m so impulsive, I react before I even realize what I’m doing.  Other times, it’s just easier to linger in a foul mood than to make the effort to shift one’s thinking.  I’m working on it.

I might be driving home one night, exhausted and overwhelmed at the end of a challenging day, and thanks to my new wonderful thought-monitoring skills I catch myself painting glum scenarios, thinking how tired I am, wondering how long I can keep working with this body, feeling that my teaching has become stale, thinking I’m just no good, that I’m not doing enough.  Similar to the feeling I have when zoning out in front of a television, no effort at all is needed to keep going along this miserable path. It’s automatic and easy. But an inner voice challenges me to snap out of it.  I try to focus on something positive, but sometimes those happy thoughts are easily tainted by my stormy mood.  So I straighten my back, take a deep breath, put on a fake smile, make up a cacophonous song cheering me on and finally laugh at my silliness.  And I successfully snap out of it.

If I lose my patience with my helplessly fidgety but good-hearted student who, as soon as I put on a French song, prefers skidding across the floor like a hockey player and then twirling in the air like a ballet dancer rather than sing the lyrics, and I reproach him impulsively and a little too harshly, my immediate reaction is usually to feel really bad right after and to think of myself as a terrible teacher.  But nowadays, rather than dwell on my mistake, I quickly soften the admonishment, commenting on how his funky moves might grace the stage of the So You Think You Can Dance stage one day, but that now is the time for his mouth and tongue muscles to be practising the movements required to pronounce the French language correctly…then I send a silent prayer to the heavens for ideas that will engage this kinaesthetic student’s mind. I can then carry on with the day, my positive aura, and his, both intact.

A month ago, a kindergarten child who didn’t know me did a double-take when he passed me, probably wondering why this weird lady was walking so slowly and pushing a grocery cart in the hall.  I slipped momentarily into an embarrassed self-conscious state, but then instead of reacting stonily to his stare, I dazzled him with a smile and felt pretty wonderful when it was returned.

Little steps at a time.

One great thing about being more aware, is that when I’m having a good moment, I acknowledge it with a heart full of gratitude and take such delight in it that the good feeling becomes magnified.  And it’s made me realize that it really doesn’t take much to experience bliss.  Lying by the pool of a luxurious spa with a breathtaking view might be heavenly, but I often experience little moments of paradise, right here near my home.  The splashes of colour in the scenery outside my window, like a changing piece of art, bursts of giggles rippling through my body when I hear a funny story, an engrossing and thought-provoking conversation, the fun and flirtatious advances of a handsome man, a gentle breeze caressing my face, a magnolia tree exploding with flowers, the crisp autumn colours dazzling me as I drive to work, the sense of freedom as I walk independently (even if I’m holding onto my cart) from my car to the front doors of my school, a child’s impulsive hug, watching my enthralled students when I regale them with an entertaining story, a student’s delighted aha moment when she finally understands a concept, or listening to the smile-inducing Vinyl Cafe on CBC radio as I drive on a clear highway on my way to visit my parents.  It all feels so good.  These are the things that keep me alive and happy.