I am a recovering workaholic who has been known to work 12-14 hour days and sleep five or six hours a night for years at a time. I used to say that sleep was highly overrated. That was until 6/12/2014 when at the age of 55 on my way home from the gym where I sweated it out five or six times a week, I had a heart attack. Life as I knew it, had changed dramatically. A stent inserted in a fully occluded LAD unblocked it and when the surgeon showed me the pre and post-image, before, it looked like a broken tree branch. The after image had it propped back up, seemingly good as new. I knew that there would be major alterations to my lifestyle in order to keep my heart in good working order. It would mean a new fitness routine that was supervised initially for cardiac rehab, dietary adaptation, work scheduled shifts, (actually a job change), medications, and sleep…lots and lots of sleep.
Now, on occasion, when pushing my grandson’s stroller, I get winded, and my lungs feel like a compressed accordion. Some of that is attributed to a newer diagnosis of COPD. I continue to work out daily in my living room which became my gym during the pandemic. I take my prescribed meds and added supplements that are cardiac boosting. When walking distances, I rely on a hiking pole; my buddy. The pre-heart attack me would have balked at the realization that I was not invulnerable and invincible. I cringed at the truth that I was a cardiac patient who could no longer afford to be cavalier about my health.
I engage in more heart-friendly activities, such as time with nurturing people, either via technology or, if they are vaccinated, in a hug-to-hug connection. I relish naps when I would have shunned them before since I had FOMO (Fear of Missing Out), and now I have JOMO (Joy of Missing Out). I have come to appreciate solitude at times when I was addicted to the adrenalin jolt I would get from being with bunches of people, doing what I loved.
I didn’t know how to slow down, so insistent that I had to be at the center of the action. Now, I find myself enamored with my scaled-down schedule. I spend most mornings with my grandchildren to provide extra hands for my son and daughter-in-law. A new leaf was added to the family tree on May 6th when Lucy Angelina was born. She is an itsy bitsy beam of light, who eats, sleeps, pees, poops, cries, and smiles (sometimes moments apart). Time with her and her adoring big brother Dean does my heart good. I love watching them figure out life. He has a growing vocabulary and now enthusiastically tells us his name is “Deeeeean”. I get a solid workout, running after him and carrying her, dancing and rocking to soothe her tears.
As I am typing these words, I am engaging in my Sunday morning ritual of listening to Sleepy Hollow on Philadelphia-based radio station WXPN. I am sipping ice tea and gazing out the back door at the Buddha who rises from the black mulch in my yard. I call him bearded Buddha because of the remnants of rain and wind that have coated his neck and chin with residue. He reminds me that in the midst of the messiness of life, there can be serenity.
And life has been exceedingly messy. Wars, social and political upheaval, reproductive rights and body sovereignty under siege, rising prices, a virus that still threatens wellbeing, and gun violence…so much gun violence. Buffalo, Uvalde, Tulsa, Philadelphia, the list is endless and the possibility of anyone being in the line of fire is growing. The problem is multi-layered and the solution is evasive since those who cling to the right to own whatever weaponry suits their fancy are at odds with those who value the right to be safe anywhere.
I also feel like I am in danger of unraveling. I wear many professional hats. I am a psychotherapist, journalist, interfaith minister, and speaker. Each of them requires being ON, fully conscious and responsible. Each of them calls me to see the world through the lens of love and healing. Sometimes I wonder how to do that in the midst of the chaos swirling about. I have been noticing fatigue, brain fog, memory blips that I had related to aging. I now know that these symptoms are also connected to resistance fatigue; needing to stand solid in the face of whatever is coming at us. Needing to keep my heart open.
I asked friends this question, “What do you do to unwind so you don’t unravel?” Here were some of their helpful answers. Some I already engage in, others I will sample.
“Sit by my fire pit. Fire cleans aura within 20 minutes.”
“Work outside on my land.”
“I take a walk around town or in the park. I hate to admit it but Hulu and YouTube are also on the list of methods for me to unwind. If I am more mindful a short session of meditation is very effective.”
“Deep breathing, journaling, reading, singing, working out, dancing, meditating, and more.”
“Till soil, plant, water, weed what isn’t welcome, and watch grow what I’ve been fortunate to cultivate. Gardening! ”
“Walk, read, find something inspiring on T.V., garden, commune with trees, listen to music, especially Sleepy Hollow WXPN archives. Look forward to celebrating upcoming events.”
“Listen to yacht rock.”
“Spend time at the barns with my animals.”
“Listen to the music that thrilled me as a teenager. Do you want to feel like a teenager again? Listen to your soundtrack from those years. Connect with nature. Do a breathing exercise from a YouTube video. Love on yourself.”
“Sit on my porch, listen to the birds, breathe deep!”
“I actually play with yarn and unraveling knots in yarn is really cathartic for me. It takes patience and a gentle hand to work the knots out rather than just cut the yarn or throw it out.”
“Walk 2 1/2 miles almost every morning and shoot photos along the way.”
“I order Tacos…”
What keeps you sane and vertical?
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Image courtesy fo the author.