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I realized the other day that the only things I'd be happy to see when I came back from vacation were parking spaces, my cats, and a bathroom in which when I am on the toilet the sink is not in my lap.
I need to make some changes.
What I need to get rid of:
1. The high-tech career has got to go. I've tried and tried, and I can't make myself love the insanity. This will take some planning and some tough decision-making, on the order of years, not months. There is some small chance that the job I now hold can be my last in this career. My goal is to work a forty-hour week and live on what it pays. That will give me time for sleep, friends, and hobbies.
2. Without the high-tech career and without millions in the bank, I will leave the Bay Area. Fiscally I would be smart to leave now; the ratio of salary to cost-of-living is abysmal for me here, so if I ever want to retire in any location, I'd best move out of here soon. But this too takes some planning and tough decision-making. For example, any elective medical stuff might best be done here, probably right after I quit my last high-tech job and right before I start packing the house. I also don't yet know the minor detail of where I want to go. There will be lots of discussions and negotiations with Rob over that.
3. Small stuff. I officially give up on swimming; I loathe it. I will probably never adopt a long-haired cat again, much as I love the ones I have now.
What I need to add:
1. Physical activity. I demand something fun and outdoorsy. Tim, I'm seriously considering that recumbent arm bike. I also demand something that will give me back some pride in what my body can do.
2. A social life. Square dancing (and being a square dance hanger-on) does not cut it. It didn't cut it when I COULD dance. I won't drop the calling, but I won't delude myself that it's my social life.
3. A hobby. It must be partially skill-based, so that I can have the joy of learning. It must offer opportunities for friendship and opportunities to travel, so that I'm not always the one sitting at my job while Rob goes off to party.
4. Small stuff. Pretty things such as flowers in a garden go a long way. I can consider regrowing my hair now that I admit I won't swim. A boob job would help a lot. Clothing that fits would help, even if I have to get things custom made. I would like to start baking again.
What now?
Sadly, all the big changes are well over a year away. The best thing I can do for those is make plans. I really need to come up with a career that pays well but has sane hours. Input welcome. In the meantime I can make time to do small things: plant flowers, shop for arm bikes, or bake something yummy. Making time to do small positive things is better, short-term, than waiting for the big stuff.
I need to make some changes.
What I need to get rid of:
1. The high-tech career has got to go. I've tried and tried, and I can't make myself love the insanity. This will take some planning and some tough decision-making, on the order of years, not months. There is some small chance that the job I now hold can be my last in this career. My goal is to work a forty-hour week and live on what it pays. That will give me time for sleep, friends, and hobbies.
2. Without the high-tech career and without millions in the bank, I will leave the Bay Area. Fiscally I would be smart to leave now; the ratio of salary to cost-of-living is abysmal for me here, so if I ever want to retire in any location, I'd best move out of here soon. But this too takes some planning and tough decision-making. For example, any elective medical stuff might best be done here, probably right after I quit my last high-tech job and right before I start packing the house. I also don't yet know the minor detail of where I want to go. There will be lots of discussions and negotiations with Rob over that.
3. Small stuff. I officially give up on swimming; I loathe it. I will probably never adopt a long-haired cat again, much as I love the ones I have now.
What I need to add:
1. Physical activity. I demand something fun and outdoorsy. Tim, I'm seriously considering that recumbent arm bike. I also demand something that will give me back some pride in what my body can do.
2. A social life. Square dancing (and being a square dance hanger-on) does not cut it. It didn't cut it when I COULD dance. I won't drop the calling, but I won't delude myself that it's my social life.
3. A hobby. It must be partially skill-based, so that I can have the joy of learning. It must offer opportunities for friendship and opportunities to travel, so that I'm not always the one sitting at my job while Rob goes off to party.
4. Small stuff. Pretty things such as flowers in a garden go a long way. I can consider regrowing my hair now that I admit I won't swim. A boob job would help a lot. Clothing that fits would help, even if I have to get things custom made. I would like to start baking again.
What now?
Sadly, all the big changes are well over a year away. The best thing I can do for those is make plans. I really need to come up with a career that pays well but has sane hours. Input welcome. In the meantime I can make time to do small things: plant flowers, shop for arm bikes, or bake something yummy. Making time to do small positive things is better, short-term, than waiting for the big stuff.
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I'm heavily into metaphysics and the book Everything You Need to Know to Feel Go(o)d by Candace Pert, Ph.D. tied the metaphysical to hard science regarding thoughts and emotions creating physical changes in the body. She builds a solid case for every time I think the thought I have a bad knee, it's like sending a print job to the printer. It sets off a chemical chain reaction in my body so that my knee doesn't regenerate.
The spiritual philosophy I've embraced is big on using words to manifest reality and I've become meticulous with my words. I don't say any part of my body is bad or weak or non-functioning in any way. I often send my attention to different parts of my body and praise it and give thanks for it's healing and regeneration and service. I don't deny the pain or the issues when they come up, but I know that the truth of me is that they don't have to continue.
I've been trying every alternative physical modality I can find. The one that's had a *huge* impact is Feldenkrais. I almost dismissed it out of hand, but my intuition said to give it a shot. My insurance pays for it because my Feldenkrais instructor is also a licensed PT. I can't do it justice, you can read more info: here (http://www.feldenkrais.com/content/Method/Basic_Information/C49/) and here (http://www.feldenkrais.com/content/method/article/43/).
The importance of yoga is also increasing in my life. I keep being amazed at how many entry points there are into the common truths of life. I started out chanting in Sanskrit, which is a form of yoga. That led me to Hatha yoga, which is the physical postures. Both have had a profound effect on my healing.
Singing has been immensely healing in more than one way. I have to laugh, nothing operates independently or only on one level. We delude ourselves when we think they do.
I'm doing so much more than I've ever been able to do in my entire life. I'm taking three classes a week; one singing, one on Hinduism, and one on Science of Mind. I'm about to add community choir one night a week. I go to church twice a week. I grocery shop and go out with the people from work. I work 40 hours a week. I freelance on the side. I'm teaching myself a higher level of web programming. I walk at my old, normal pace. I ride my bike I just learned how to repair. I go to Feldenkrais once a week. I dance and do yoga every week. I no longer have a "pain level". Yes, I still have pain from time to time, but it's transient, not a part of who I am. It doesn't define me nor inform every action I take in my life, and it used to.
When my body was healthy, my abusive, oppressive living situation was crippling. When I got free from that, I was dealing with the effects of the brain injury and fibro. Now I'm free of both and it feels great!
Thanks for asking! It's good to write this. I think I'll post it in my journal. Good luck on your journey. I sense that you have no idea just how wonderful the results will be. And they will be wonderful.