Rhena Writes

Tag: self-care

  • Still learning.

    Is it a boundary setting hangover? Is it a vulnerability hangover? Is it a lack of boundaries? For all of my talk (writing) about how I’m trying to focus on myself, I still do it. I give too much of myself. I let other people make decisions about how I’m using my time and my energy. I keep putting oxygen masks on everyone else because, “What will they think of me if I’m sitting here putting my oxygen mask on when there are other people who don’t have oxygen masks on?”

    I keep forgetting the rules: What other people think of me is none of my business. And also: Do unto others what I would have done unto me. I am perfectly capable of putting on my own oxygen mask. I’d rather do it for myself than have some random passenger who thinks I need help but doesn’t have his own oxygen mask situation sorted help me.

    Here’s the thing. I’m learning.

    The other day, I went for a swim. A few days later, I felt rather sore. I probably pushed myself too hard. And I can kind of remember the exact moments when I pushed myself too hard: when I wanted to get another lap or a few more strokes in when I should have actually just slowed it down a little. So the next time I went into the pool, I was a little bit better about listening to when I need to ease off a little. My body is good about telling me.

    Another day, I gave someone just a little more time than I actually had. It threw off my whole day. And it probably disrupted my sleep that night. Next time, I’ll back off a little bit more in that arena too. When I was younger, it always felt like I had endless amounts of time to give to other people. Like a cup of coffee or a beer could easily turn into two or three and then a whole afternoon or evening. When I write about it now, it sounds kind of romantic. Youthful. This kind of feeling that I had all this time.

    Maybe it’s the cliche of the mis-spent youth but that feeling of just having hours and hours, endless days? Too often I spent it on the wrong people. Not that these people who I was spending time on were bad (although some of them were) but that I wasn’t spending that time on the one person I should have been: myself.

    I’ve only learned very recently that I actually really enjoy my own company. I enjoy being by myself. Yes, of course I also enjoy being with some people, some of the time. But I enjoy being with myself all of the time.

    ******************

    *************************

    *****************

    If you enjoyed what you’ve read here, please check out other posts. Likes, shares, and reposts help get my writing out to where it needs to be. I’m also grateful for financial support. Even though I post daily, I only send out a once a week summary email to subscribers. Thank you!

  • The stranger within.

    Daily writing prompt
    Describe a random encounter with a stranger that stuck out positively to you.
    View all responses

    When I was first diagnosed with breast cancer, I had to be transported from the hospital to the radiation center for treatment. The people who transported me usually sat with me while I waited to see the doctor or to receive the treatment. Needless to say, the people who were driving me places were strangers to me. But I had a few encounters with them that stuck out to me.

    The first was a younger woman who had driven the ambulance-like vehicle. She asked me what kind of cancer I had as we were waiting outside of the radiation room. After I answered her, she started telling me about how her mother had breast cancer too. I had just received the diagnosis and still had no idea what my treatment plan would be. She talked about the chemotherapy her mother went through and she said that the one thing was to try to eat whatever I can to keep my strength up through the treatments. The fact that she took the time to share with me her advice and to share with me a story of someone on the other side of their experience with breast cancer gave me hope. And through my treatment, I kept her words in mind about keeping my strength up. Because the advice came from a patient (through her daughter) it was probably more powerful than even what the doctors and nurses said. And I remembered them when the chemotherapy made everything tasteless.

    Another transportation person made me laugh out loud, great belly laughs that left me breathless right when I needed that. He also shared this wild story about when he was in the marines. It involved a very specific type of beer that is only made and sold in Wisconsin. It happened to be one of my favorite beers when I lived there. Our encounter was very, very brief, but we connected on such a niche subject that it made it feel somehow preordained. It made the world seem small, the specifics of my life not all that unique after all. And that’s exactly what I needed to feel in that moment.

    One other young man who helped my transport also had a very short interaction with him. He asked me almost right away, “Are you a teacher?” It was such a pointed question, that I started racking my brain, “Was this a former student?” No, he wasn’t. By way of explanation he said I just seemed like a teacher. I took it as a compliment and I think he meant it as such. Later on, one of the women who cleaned the hospital rooms and I got to chatting. She talked about some of her recent difficulties. “I’m usually shy, but you have a good energy.” Both of these comments were also what I needed to hear in those moments. Mostly because everyone I’d been seeing saw me primarily as a patient and I was beginning to see myself just as a patient. I had months (years?) of interactions ahead of me where I would be reduced to “patient”. Both of these interactions with strangers reminded me that I’m human first. They told me that even in this role as a patient and in these medical settings, I was more than just someone to be helped, that my presence or energy could also help someone else. I guess you could say that in a way, these interactions empowered me to see myself as more than a patient.

    Lastly, dear reader, you too are a stranger to me. And yet, here you are, reading my words. And maybe I am becoming something less of a stranger to you. Just as I am becoming less of a stranger to myself.

    ***********

    Likes, shares, reblogs are welcome and help us all become less strange to one another! (As do tips … Thanks!)