Category: Moments, Thoughts, Life

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Down and to the Left

We had a kitchen faucet that leaked. It was a slow drip. The only way to stop it was to move the handle slightly to the left when turning it off. We lived with this special faucet for approximately seven years – which was 6 years, 11 months, 3 weeks and 6 days too long, but we survived.

Down and to the left became a normal response when we found a guest standing at the sink unsure how to stop the gentle flow of water. 

Down and to the left was the instruction given to the grandkids when they grew tall enough to reach the handle.

Down and to the left was our normal.

Then one glorious day, my husband and son installed a new faucet. It was a new day! A new dawning! I was certain there would no longer be the need for down and to the left. 

And I was correct. Those five little words were successfully removed from our vocabulary. However, it did not changed our behavior. When not in use, the new faucet is in it’s old familiar position – down and to the left. 

We have a new vocabulary now. Ouch! This water is too hot! You have to adjust the temperature! The problem? Down and to the left is the new hot. Really hot. Our sink is directly above the hot water heater, a direct line. It’s instantly hot.

Our old faucet forced us to learn a behavior the new faucet doesn’t require. Learned behaviors can be difficult to unlearn. It’s been 3 years since that new faucet was installed. Three years of mindlessly following the down and to the left rule. Three years of hot water blasting out of the faucet and 3 years of Ouch! This water is too hot! You have to adjust the temperature!

I am certain I have a lot of down and to the left kind of behaviors in my life. Things that I do on a regular basis that were once essential to my existence and are no long required. The problem? I still do them. Sometimes, I have to scald my hands a few times before it dawns on me that I could possibly be the cause of my own pain.

There is a couple of ways to fix this. We could switch the hoses and have the cold be hot and the hot be cold. My father and father-in-law did this once when installing a toilet. When you flushed, steam rose from the bowl. 

We could get a new faucet, the kind with two handles. That would certainly bring an end to the down and to the left. 

Or we could just learn to do it differently with gentle reminders that we don’t have to do it that way anymore.

 

 

Check out www.LivingUnstuck.us

Living Unstuck

 

 

 

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Olivia

Olivia blog post for Jeannie BruenningI’ve spent more time on elementary school grounds recently than I have in the past twenty years. It’s one of the benefits of having grandkids living close by.

My daughter held tightly to Liam’s hand as they made their way to his room. The door was decorated with Owls, not easy to miss. Emery and I followed quite a bit behind. If you ever have the privilege of walking hand in hand with Emery, you will quickly realize that she is all about stopping to watch an ant, chase the birds, get a drink, and run down the ramps. We dance to school in the morning and play hop-scotch on the broken concrete. She skips and hops and does steps on my shadow.

As the space between Mom and us grew larger, it allowed a group of children emerging from a classroom to force us to stop. Each student was clutching their math book like it was a teddy bear. We stood and watched the parade. When the teacher emerged, I assumed she would be the end of the line. I figured it would be safe for Emery and I to continue.

A few seconds later, a girl burst out of the room, spun on her heals and skipped down the sidewalk in the opposite direction. I couldn’t help but notice her expression of delight that radiated in the sunshine. Her eyes fixed on the sky. I wanted to hear the music that was most certainly playing in her head.

“Olivia,” I heard the teacher say. It was in a tone that suggested she may have been  anticipating Olivia’s choice of direction. As if she knew that Olivia would need be guided. “This way,” she instructed. Without pause, Olivia did an about-face and began to skip down the sidewalk in search of her classmates. She was still looking up taking in the beauty of the day.

I love Olivia. She makes me smile.

I pray that as Olivia grows older, she never looses the courage to be the last one out the door. That she’s not afraid to turn left when everyone else is going right. I hope she never stops looking up and that the sun will always reflect off her smile. And that she is blessed with teachers who gently guide her.

When the sidewalk was once again safe for travel, I glanced down at my little partner. She had her back to me and was pointing to the sky.

“Neenee, look at the birds.”

“They’re beautiful,” I said squeezing her hand. “Come on, Sweetie, we need to go this way.”

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Our Deepest Desires

Our Deepest Desires blog by Jeannie Bruenning

Our Deepest Desires blog by jeannie bruenningLast week I listened to a meditation. Now that sentence doesn’t even make much sense. How can you listen to a meditation? Well, for people like me who find it hard to think about nothing, we must be instructed how to meditate. Apparently organizing the day, planning the menu, and practicing conversations are not what mediation is all about.

Facebook flashed an intriguing ad about meditating and I clicked. Then I listened and for the first time in my life, 15 minutes passed without me wondering what time it was. Or thinking that surely this is longer than 15 minutes. Or if the carpet needed to be vacuumed. Or what we should have for dinner….

At the beginning of the meditation the instructor, who had a deep and gentle voice, told me to repeat the words “I am” whenever I found myself wondering. He actually said it in another language but I couldn’t understand him. I figured I could repeat sounds I didn’t know or I could just say them in English. I stuck with I am.

I heard the newspaper delivery guy and I said, I am. I thought about my day and I said, I am. I thought about Miss Piggy wanting to kiss Kermit a lot and I said, I am. I even asked myself, What am I? and then I answered, I am. I was quiet, I was peaceful, I was.

Then I heard a soft chime and I opened my eyes just a few seconds before the gentle soft voice said, “Open your eyes.”

Wait till he says, “Open your eyes” next time, I noted to myself.

“I am”, he repeated and it sounded calming, soothing. I felt that this was good!

And then he ended the meditation by saying, “I am my deepest desire.”

Pause….long pause….what the hell does that mean? My deepest desire! What’s my deepest desire?  I loved the sound of it but what did it mean – I am my deepest desire?

Any stress that had left me in the past 15 minutes came rushing back. I felt pressure. I felt the calling.

Now I have to find my deepest desire!!

I repeated the question over and over and my mind immediately went to…

all the things I want to do,

all the stuff I want to have,

all the words I want to speak.

Reading over that list left me sad and a bit depressed – because a lot of those things have been on my list for a very long time.

Maybe this is about being and not about doing. That thought rang true, but I really didn’t want that to be the answer. I wanted all the things!

I ask a few of my friends and they too went to the doings: they had their projects and adventures.

“What if this is about who we are rather than what we do?” I asked. “I wondered if this might be about being and not about doing.” They nodded in agreement, yet none of us could quantify it.

When we define ourselves with what we do, or have, or achieved, it’s a defined list. These definitions come to an end when the need for us to do is no longer needed. If they are our defining moments, we will someday become undefined.

When we can define ourselves based on character and desire, our definition continues to redefine itself to the end of our lives.

This sounded really good, but I still wasn’t sure if it was right.

I repeated those words for three days. “I am.”

 What? I don’t know, but I am.

This morning I woke-up defined. The words were so solid in my mind that I don’t think they’ll ever leave me. “I know who I am.” I said to myself. “I am my deepest desire.”

What’s that desire? To trust God with reckless abandon and live each day as a new adventure.  This is a definition I can live with. This is a life I want to live. It’s amazing what happens when we quiet our minds.

Meditation isn’t new. It’s as old as the Psalms. It’s a gift that we’ve been given and one many of us have forgotten. It’s a time of peace, a time of stillness, it’s a time of knowing. Sometimes it’s a time of self-discovery.

On rare occasions it can be a defining moment.

Namaste’. 

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Perceptions & Our Reality

jeannie bruenning

You know what it’s like when someone tells you not to think about something and all you can do is think about the thing you’re not supposed to be thinking about?

Taking my blood pressure is like that for me. For the second time in my life it’s been recommended that I take and record my BP several times during the day. So not only do I have to not think about it once a day, I have to not think about it three times a day. Not surprisingly this can have an effect on the BP reading.

For the past three weeks I’ve been pretending that this  doesn’t make me nervous. I’ve been self-talking in hopes to stay calm, to overcome my natural reaction to that little machine that squeezes my are so tightly it stops the flow of blood to my hand…

A few days ago I started asking myself why all this makes me nervous and I couldn’t come up with an answer. How silly is it to be afraid of something that you really aren’t afraid of.

This forced me to do a little research – I went to the Google and there was an article from Harvard Medical. “They should know what they are talking about,” I assured myself.

Come to find out there is a new range of numbers that qualify as normal. Go figure! Normal isn’t normal anymore! Also, the dear folks at Harvard recommend changing the way high BP is dealt with. It would have been helpful if I would have done this research a few weeks ago.

It is said that perception is reality and I can’t help but put this experience into that scenario. My perception of normal had effected my reality. Within a few short paragraphs my perception changed and so did my reality. Now that little machine that squeezes my arm no longer is there to show me what’s wrong, rather, to prove how normal and healthy I am.

What’s the lesson? It’s important to have an educated perception. One that is based on fact, knowledge and even experience. One that can be defined, explained and is reassuring. Otherwise our perception is simply an assumption…and we all know what happens when we assume.

 

P.S.
If you haven’t checked it out, please take a look at Living Unstuck. It’s filled with stories, lessons and practices that have change my life and I would love to share them with you!

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Hey Mom, I’m Just Like You!

My mom and I share a common trait. It is refer to as white coat syndrome. This is when you go to the doctor and the people in white coats, which really doesn’t exist anymore, takes your blood pressure and everyone get concerned because you are a few seconds away from a stroke or perhaps even your death.

Last week I had a follow-up appointment to make sure my pneumonia was all gone. I had put this off since there isn’t any sign it’s still around. However, I did have soreness by my rib cage and I wanted someone else to tell me that I had bruised a rib during one of the thousand coughing spells I lived through and that it wasn’t something more serious. The soreness had grown to a pain over the past few days and was poking me in the side, which prompted me to make the appointment.

After arriving 10 minutes early, filling out minimal paperwork, I sat down to wait for my name. Breathe, I kept repeating to myself. Relax. The door opened and I was invited to enter. Once through the open door I was directed to the scale which clearly said being sick the months of November and December had taken it’s toll.

“You can sit here,” she instructed.

“It’s going to be high,” I instructed. “It always is when you take it.”

She put the cuff on and the air began to fill. The machine stopped as if taking another breath and kept going. The pressure was enormous and I thought my eyes were going to pop out of my head.

“Is it going to stop?” she said quietly. I laughed, closing my eyelids to hold them in.

It finally did and I waited as the pressure slowly released. “Wow.” she said.

“How high it is?” I asked.

“200 / 100,” she replied.

“Wow! It’s never been that high.” I think 200 / 100 is close to death… glad I lived!

Five minutes later she took it again and it had dropped, not to the You’re one healthy chick! level, but it did drop.

“I’ll take it again after you see the doctor,” she said. I was a little concerned they wouldn’t let me leave until it was safe.

The doctor entered, pulled over a small cart and spread my file out. He check my heart, my lungs and all was well. Then he felt my ribs. “You’ve injured them,” he confirmed. “It will take a while to heal.” I nodded and smiled.

“Your blood pressure is high,” he said.

“It’s really high!” I said “But it does that in the office.” I explained that I have had times where I had been borderline but with diet and exercise I had brought it down to safe levels. “I’d like to try again before you put me on medication.”

“Make an appointment in 6 weeks,” he instructed in his doctorly tone. “Take your blood pressure 3 times a day and record it.”

“I will I promised.” Three times, I thought, I’ve never had to take it three times.

Just before I left, they checked one more time, it had dropped again.

I left defeated. “I’ve been here before, why am I here again. When am I going to figure out the importance of diet and exercise. I fell asleep dreading the next day and starting yet another time, a diet.

In the morning the light had made a difference, as it usually does. This is the first time in my life that I don’t have to change my lifestyle cause it’s too stressful! I thought. I’ve eliminated all of that and I think I’ve learn to keep it at bay. This is now a new lifestyle that I will have until I die. (I’m planning on 40 more fun filled years!)

Fast forward one week. Right eating, daily exercise and all readings are well within the safe zone and going down.

I’ve had a few reminders and discoveries since that doctors appointment.

Two weeks prior Jeff and I were reading about one of our favorite actresses who had lost 100+ pounds. She simply said, “There is no magic pill. You have to eat right and walk more.”

I was reminded that one week prior I had asked God to help me with diet since I couldn’t seem to find the key. He always answers pray and sometimes (most of the time) it’s in very creative and humorous ways.

The soreness in my ribs that forced me to the doctor in the first place almost vanished the next day. If we listen, our bodies find ways to get our attention when something is wrong. For me it was as if it was poking me in the side, telling me to make an appointment. Not that my rib was an issue but it brought me to a place that shined a light on a real problem.

What so amazes me is that well before I knew there was an issue, the solution was making it’s self know. I love how life works when we listen.

Eating right and daily exercising is no long something I have to remember to do, it’s what I do. It’s not because my life is stressful. It’s not because I’m not disciplined. It’s simply because my Mom, who turns 90 this year, and I share a few common traits…

 

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Feb Release