Friday, September 23, 2016
Guardian Angel Vlog on You Tube
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X-f1jmhIWJg&list=PLNdJBE7lI0Y_pAqCxHwqLlNsWoDXDLyh1
Thursday, September 1, 2016
The Cure For Getting Old
When I went through counseling to become a Certified Christian Counselor, I learned that when you reach your mid-fifties you go through a transformation. You become something quite different than you were when you were young. A lot of people call this a "Mid-life Crisis".
For me, this really was becoming a crisis. I developed Fear in my otherwise carefree life. My love of adventure became stifled as I made room for this new, un-welcomed creature. I didn't understand how it got here. Maybe it arrived in oposition to all the freedom I was now able to taste. My kids were all gone. My husband was leaving his life-long job to spread his wings in another arena. I was finally at home and able to do anything my heart desired. Maybe a life that wasn't inhibited by structure was just too foreign for me and I was having a hard time with the whole transition. Whatever the case, I wasn't enjoying this partnership with Fear.
Yesterday, I got home from a visit to my youngest daughter's place in Southern California. She is a "Child of Adventure" in an area where all kinds of new adventures are born. One morning she suggested that we try something new... Floating (I will post a link at the bottom of this page for those of you wishing to know more). Floating? Sounds harmless, said the inner "me" still allowing room for fear. I agreed before thinking too much about what it might entail. An out-of-the-box adventure may be just the thing I need to get past this "feeling old" self I was becoming. Little did I know, I wasn't getting out-of-the-box, but was about to go into-the box and have to face Fear head on.
Floating is an experience that can be quite different for everyone. It is the process of climbing into a pitch black container of Epson salt water and floating, alone, for an hour and a half. Who does this kind of stuff?!? I love being alone. It gives me time to talk to God and think up all kinds of creative new things to try. So why was I quickly becoming apprehensive to this experience? I truly believe it was because I brought Fear in with me.
We were escorted to our private rooms. I showered off and climbed into what looked like a meat locker. The owner of the establishment had mentioned that I could leave the door cracked if I felt claustrophobic, but that I should close it when I became comfortable so that I could really experience the full effect of the process. How do you become comfortable, naked, in a black box, locked in with a creature you detest? I climbed in.
I'm sure that if I was being filmed, it would have been quite comical. The box has plenty of room and the water is only about 18" deep, but I felt like I couldn't reach the bottom because I couldn't see it. The salt water is body temperature and so is the air around you. You don't know if you're actually in or out of the water. There is so much salt that you can't sink, so you can't drown. I laid down, twitching and turning, trying to find a comfortable spot to lay for and hour and a half. The owner had said that I would probably fall asleep while in there. Yeah, right? This is going to be the longest hour and a half of my life, I thought.
Everything began to bother me. When I closed my eyes, I felt like I was slowly turning to the left. That was impossible, since the box is only a 5' x 8' tub. I opened my eyes and kept my vision focused on the crack in the door to steady myself. Next, I thought, "OK, God, let's talk"... I got nothing. This was very unusual for me. He said nothing in return, even more unusual. I felt like an hour and a half would never end unless I did something I should have done long ago. I had to evict my room mate, Fear.
Quietly, so as not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere I was supposed to be experiencing, I forced my bottom down so I could sit up. I told Fear there wasn't any room for him in this tank or in my life anymore and that he would have to leave. Then I closed the door, completely. This time I laid down, quickly found a comfortable position and relaxed. Once in a while I heard myself snort (which meant I had, in fact, been asleep), but I could never really tell if I was asleep or awake. A few minutes passed (actually... it was an hour and a half, but felt like only moments). I heard faint music playing. This indicated that our time was over and I could get out and shower off. How long had the music been playing? How did my daughter do in the tank next door? How much time did I have to get dressed? Anxiety was waiting to replace fear in my life, but I quickly recognized it and said, "No". It's time for me to enjoy my life and regain the part of my youth I lost.
So, what's the cure for getting old? For me, it was finding someone to remind me who I really was. I birthed an "Adventure Girl" because I was a girl of adventure myself. Being with Cody reminded me of who I really was and helped me to brush off anything else that was trying to make me believe otherwise. I thanked God for my daughter, my life and the rest I just got, then walked out feeling young again.
The floating process: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EQC_mJZ3MQM
The place we went: http://www.newportfloat.com/
For me, this really was becoming a crisis. I developed Fear in my otherwise carefree life. My love of adventure became stifled as I made room for this new, un-welcomed creature. I didn't understand how it got here. Maybe it arrived in oposition to all the freedom I was now able to taste. My kids were all gone. My husband was leaving his life-long job to spread his wings in another arena. I was finally at home and able to do anything my heart desired. Maybe a life that wasn't inhibited by structure was just too foreign for me and I was having a hard time with the whole transition. Whatever the case, I wasn't enjoying this partnership with Fear.
Yesterday, I got home from a visit to my youngest daughter's place in Southern California. She is a "Child of Adventure" in an area where all kinds of new adventures are born. One morning she suggested that we try something new... Floating (I will post a link at the bottom of this page for those of you wishing to know more). Floating? Sounds harmless, said the inner "me" still allowing room for fear. I agreed before thinking too much about what it might entail. An out-of-the-box adventure may be just the thing I need to get past this "feeling old" self I was becoming. Little did I know, I wasn't getting out-of-the-box, but was about to go into-the box and have to face Fear head on.
Floating is an experience that can be quite different for everyone. It is the process of climbing into a pitch black container of Epson salt water and floating, alone, for an hour and a half. Who does this kind of stuff?!? I love being alone. It gives me time to talk to God and think up all kinds of creative new things to try. So why was I quickly becoming apprehensive to this experience? I truly believe it was because I brought Fear in with me.
We were escorted to our private rooms. I showered off and climbed into what looked like a meat locker. The owner of the establishment had mentioned that I could leave the door cracked if I felt claustrophobic, but that I should close it when I became comfortable so that I could really experience the full effect of the process. How do you become comfortable, naked, in a black box, locked in with a creature you detest? I climbed in.
I'm sure that if I was being filmed, it would have been quite comical. The box has plenty of room and the water is only about 18" deep, but I felt like I couldn't reach the bottom because I couldn't see it. The salt water is body temperature and so is the air around you. You don't know if you're actually in or out of the water. There is so much salt that you can't sink, so you can't drown. I laid down, twitching and turning, trying to find a comfortable spot to lay for and hour and a half. The owner had said that I would probably fall asleep while in there. Yeah, right? This is going to be the longest hour and a half of my life, I thought.
Everything began to bother me. When I closed my eyes, I felt like I was slowly turning to the left. That was impossible, since the box is only a 5' x 8' tub. I opened my eyes and kept my vision focused on the crack in the door to steady myself. Next, I thought, "OK, God, let's talk"... I got nothing. This was very unusual for me. He said nothing in return, even more unusual. I felt like an hour and a half would never end unless I did something I should have done long ago. I had to evict my room mate, Fear.
Quietly, so as not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere I was supposed to be experiencing, I forced my bottom down so I could sit up. I told Fear there wasn't any room for him in this tank or in my life anymore and that he would have to leave. Then I closed the door, completely. This time I laid down, quickly found a comfortable position and relaxed. Once in a while I heard myself snort (which meant I had, in fact, been asleep), but I could never really tell if I was asleep or awake. A few minutes passed (actually... it was an hour and a half, but felt like only moments). I heard faint music playing. This indicated that our time was over and I could get out and shower off. How long had the music been playing? How did my daughter do in the tank next door? How much time did I have to get dressed? Anxiety was waiting to replace fear in my life, but I quickly recognized it and said, "No". It's time for me to enjoy my life and regain the part of my youth I lost.
So, what's the cure for getting old? For me, it was finding someone to remind me who I really was. I birthed an "Adventure Girl" because I was a girl of adventure myself. Being with Cody reminded me of who I really was and helped me to brush off anything else that was trying to make me believe otherwise. I thanked God for my daughter, my life and the rest I just got, then walked out feeling young again.
The floating process: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EQC_mJZ3MQM
The place we went: http://www.newportfloat.com/
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)