Going For an Annual Physical

By Joyce Wiatroski

I recently had my annual well woman physical.  The main goal in making these yearly visits is to get the good news—the readings of my blood chemistry which practically shout the positive results of the lifestyle changes I’ve incorporated over the years.

Year after year, I’ve been fortunate to have “no complaints”.

The physician runs through his extensive check list of complaints: Dizziness? Chest pains?  Shortness of breath?  Constipation? Etc.  And I say, no, no, no, and finally, exasperated, utter “none of the above!”  I am well.  I have no complaints.

I have found myself in a bit of a funk off and on since that visit.  Not actually depressed, but sometimes blue, sad or maudlin – just not my usual perky self.

Something the doctor said, has been nagging at me.  After perusing my records and looking me over, he announced: “According to statistics, a healthy woman your age can expect to live another 15 years.”  Halleluiah for actuarial tables!

While physicians all over the world are tasked with informing terminally ill patients with their probable limited life expectancy, now people enjoying health are being given their computer generated termination date!
They say our state of mind is a strong determinant of our physical well-being.  We’ve all heard tales of people who quickly succumb after receiving the news of a terminal disease. I can see how that happens.  While I pride myself in having a strong, resilient state of mind, that little bombshell resonated for days and weeks casting a dark cloud over my normally sunny days.

As I thought about it, I realized how fortunate I am.  Free of any debilitating disease, no crippling arthritic limbs, filled with abundant health in mind and body.  But for those who have been diagnosed with life threatening diseases, I can readily see, from my own recent experience, how negative news can allow the mind to dictate to the body.

Whatever my timetable is, I’m planning to live each day to the fullest — surrounded by positive people who project life affirming thoughts and actions.  There is no place for negativity in my life.

Wouldn’t it have been nice, to have been sent off from that office visit with a spring in my step because I was filled with health, instead of dragging my feet because I had been reminded that my end is in sight?

And let’s continue to manifest. . .

Like fine wine, women grow better with thyme.

Joyce Wiatroski is the wit and wisdom found on the foodiefumblings blog. You can watch for her contributions on the Diva blog on Tuesdays.

A Teacher Named "Rain"

For this week’s post, I dashed to the computer on Monday to write about an overall sense of gratitude I was strongly feeling at the time. I began: "I’m feeling excitement coursing through me today. There’s nothing out of the ordinary going on, though. I’m just feeling grateful. Oh how a sense of gratitude can make a mom feel. This overall feeling of gratitude is causing me to document a few things I’m grateful for. In doing so, perhaps I can be an inspiration to the next mom."

Typing quickly, my gratitude list began growing rapidly. I got as far as writing about being grateful for a nature course I’m taking, but then something pulled me away from the computer. Later, when I returned to my incomplete document, I somehow shifted to writing about my son’s high interest in numbers…money…and his extreme love for the game of Monopoly. Yes, I was on a whole other topic, which might very well be next week’s post. (Then, as it turns out, Joanne’s Tuesday post was about precisely that: children and money!)

Back to Monday! It was clear my mind was in overdrive and I should go to Monday evening’s yoga class to help slow down my thoughts. It wasn’t until that class was over and after completing my nature homework that I really knew what today’s post should be about.

For homework, participants enrolled in the nature class were to "go into the most unspoiled, attractive natural area." We were told to "let your webstring of reason work for you in connection with nature…….Thoroughly try to know the natural place or thing that attracts you in a non-verbal way, similar to the way Earth and nature knows it. You may accomplish this way of knowing by focusing your thinking and feeling to the word ‘attraction.’ It is a variety of natural attraction webstrings that hold the Earth community ecosystem together in balance. Say ‘attraction’ repeatedly again while touching, smelling, hearing, and viewing the attractive colors, sounds, shapes, motions, smells and sensations that are present in the natural area. Do this with eyes both open and closes……."

There were additional specific instructions, but you should get the gist from the above. Here’s my how my nature encounter turned out!

While I had great plans to go off to a secluded nature spot, the rain obviously had this hands-on assignment all mapped out for me.

It started from indoors, actually. The rain usually gives me a good feeling when I’m inside and hear it, so today (Friday, March 7), from inside my home office, as I heard and saw the rain coming down in a gentle fashion, I felt as if it was beckoning me outdoors. I put on a thin, blue rain jacket, pulled the hood over my head, and off I went. Turns out, the rain was inviting me to get to know, to really begin getting to know, my backyard.

When we purchased this house almost four years ago, one of the features I thought was most attractive about it was the trees and shrubbery that surrounded it. It was the perimeter — the area of the yard that would be untouched even when the grass got cut, etc. — that I loved. I was attracted to the "wildness" yet "order" of it. That "wildness" is our nature-made hedge that gives us privacy from the houses behind ours. Several friends have also commented on all of this attractive "nature," too.

As I stepped to the left side of the yard today — the area that feels very sacred to me, the area I call my "Garden of Eden" — I enjoyed the pitter-patter sound of the rain on the variety of green shrubbery out there. Rain represents cleansing and nourishment to me; it’s as if every single part of nature that needs water where it’s raining gets to have it at this time. It’s like a water party for all, which today reminded me to increase my water intake, because I felt I had not consumed enough of it the day before.

Although the rain was gently falling to the ground, and at times the sound of thunder was rumbling over my head, I was still very much attracted to carry on outside. I gravitated toward some red berries growing amongst the shrubbery. I had just noticed those berries within the last week while sitting out in the yard doing homework with my son. Had those little red beads been growing there for quite some time? Had I just not been observant enough to notice them — until recently?

In the rain, I walked over and studied their beauty. Tiny red berries growing on dark green leaves. The colors of Christmas. I then moved on to see if a spider web I noticed on those same leaves a few days prior was still there. Yes, it was! I studied the web closely, amazed by all of it’s perfect precision and the way bugs or things in general get caught up in it. The web reminded me of the webstrings I’m learning about in my nature class. A spider web seems an ideal symbol to visually show us the many connections in life and how we’re all intertwined.

There on that hedge in my yard, the spider web hung so sturdily yet fragile, because at any minute any unconcerned passerby could tear it down — damaging such beautiful art. Like life, huh? If we don’t learn the tools to stay rooted, our beings could begin crumbling at any moment. We must be careful of that, so during what felt like an outdoors museum walk, I only looked at the spider web. I did not touch. I did not want to disturb it, so I respected its being.

As I moved along, observing the different colored leaves that had fallen to the ground — red ones, yellow ones, brown ones — I decided to collect a few of them and other nature items that were lying loosely on the ground. I wanted to share my findings with my son once he came home from school. A part of me was saddened that he wasn’t there in that moment with me. One of my favorite things about when we home-schooled, were these sorts of impromptu teachable moments. I longed for him to also be a guest at this "rain party," especially because he would have found exploring amidst the raindrops to be plain ‘ole fun.

Continuing on, I observed a branch that looked dry while everything to either side of it looked wet. How was that possible? It had what looked like green moss growing on it that didn’t look as attractive to me as it’s surrounding beauty. What was the deal with that part of nature? As I’m typing, I’m wondering if that was a reflection of the "person" who eventually gets all dried up" when falling out of touch with whom they really are — feeling brittle and old when they don’t have to? Or, was that tree simply bare, preparing to display gorgeous new life come Spring?

I moved along some more and saw another branch that was virtually bare apart from what looked like miniature acorns growing on it. Eventually, I was greeted by some "smiling" pink flowers growing amongst the bushes, and then some purple ones whose silky texture captured my heart. It’s easy to understand why Eckhart Tolle opens his book, A New Earth, discussing the influence that flowers have had on human consciousness.

I scooted across the yard a bit, and there was a large bush confidently standing alone.  Its dark pink flowers had fully blossomed. I couldn’t help but soak up that beauty for several moments. For a quick second, I felt ashamed for not knowing the names of all of this beauty in my yard, but I was quickly comforted by the fact that nature knows no language. It just is what it is! Isn’t it first and foremost designed to balance our emotions? Who cares that we can’t always name it? I knew I was smart, simply by being open enough to feel these outdoors connections. In time, I’m sure I’ll be able to list these items that live amongst me. (In fact, I’m thinking about inviting my naturalist friend over to teach me the names of my new "friends" in my backyard.)

I eventually returned to a chair set in my "Garden of Eden." There, I sat for a few moments — with eyes closed — embracing the sound of the rain and inhaling all that I had just received. I felt so connected and free. My spirits were lifted as the rain fell down. I said a prayer of gratitude, sat with palms facing upward as if receiving all nature had to offer in the palm of my hands. Later that day, whenever people referred to the rainy weather as horrible, I just couldn’t relate to their feelings.

I believe we can overcome that ‘dreary’ feeling we can sometimes get from rain by focusing on it’s value! Think so?

Penny