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Posts Tagged ‘tired’

My body is angry. I ache everywhere. I feel like I physically, from the neck down, have the ‘flu. My ankles are “clicking” more than usual. Same with my wrists. I was walking the other day and my ankle seized up. It simply stopped working and hurt a lot.

I stopped walking, rotated my ankle and was eventually able to weight bear. It scared me. I carefully walked back to my car, got home, elevated, medicated, applied heat and cold alternately and eventually dozed off.

I realised for the past two months I’ve been clenching everything. My jaw, my hands, my body and it’s unsustainable. We are living in a world most of us have never seen before. It’s scary. It’s frustrating. It’s unbelievable. And yet, it is our reality.

When I am at my best I eat three healthy meals a day. I cook at home, I drink lots of water, some decaffeinated tea, a little diet pop, and eat treats sparingly. I can get 8 hours of sleep and awaken feeling refreshed. I have few food cravings. My eyes are clear, my skin is dewy and I feel good.

Not these days, though.

My skin is sallow. I look haggard. I can’t sleep more than a couple of hours at a time. I wake before my alarm and when I decide to try and sleep more, I fall into a deep sleep and have difficulty rousing to my alarm.

I am craving foods I’ve not craved in months, if not years. I’m drinking mostly tea, lots of diet pop and a moderate amount of water. My skin is alternately dry and oily. Everything hurts. Well, except my hair. It’s just growing…fast…and a lot.

My food addiction is bad. I have so much shame about food that I feel humiliated. I am eating 1 – 2 meals a day. I start off with the best of intentions, then end up feeling ravenous, even though I KNOW I’m not hungry. I buy healthy food. Fruit, vegetables, lean meat, multi-grain bread. I don’t bring home a lot of processed food. And yet I crave chips and cookies. And I can’t eat one serving. I eat the whole bag.

I’m aware I’m doing it and I get angry and ashamed. Yet I can’t stop.

I’m currently using two online apps. One is through a wearable device which I really like because it gives advice on what to do as far as exercise in isolation. It’s adapted to the current reality of the world. The other is an online subscription app. I used it a few years ago and it was working well for me, then I stopped. I can’t remember why, but I know it was because I got frustrated with being moved from peer group to peer group.

The program has changed a little in a few years. And not at all since the pandemic. All the “helpful hints” involve getting together with family and friends, of going shopping with your girlfriends. Of going out to dinner, etc. NONE of which we can do right now. So, being the quiet and demure female I am… (you know, there REALLY needs to be a sarcasm font) I sent a message to my personal coach and the Concierge and didn’t receive a satisfactory answer.

I’ve asked questions about dealing with food addiction and been told “in their opinion” that such things don’t exist. Um, what?

I’m debating quitting the online program when my “course” is finished (August). I’m not losing weight, although I am following the course given the restrictions of COVID-19. Ugh.

I was listening to a podcast earlier today and there was woman who was raised by a crack-addicted mother. She was quite judmental with her mother for not having enough self-control. Until she found herself in her mid-twenties eating her feelings…until she weighed over 400 lbs and knew her life was in jeopardy. She joined Overeaters Anonymous and it helped her.

Food addiction is real. It is as valid an addiction as any other. Because I’m in a heightened place of stress, my coping mechanisms are weak…in some cases non-existent. My impulse control seems to be broken.

So, I’ve decided to check out Overeaters Anonymous. There are virtual meetings that I can drop into and drop out of. I think it would help me to talk to people who understand how I feel. Who understand the minefield that food addiction and grocery shopping can be.

Hopefully I can learn, again, to lessen my stress and eat properly so my body will stop being angry with me.

Oh! And then there’s the physical changes with menopause and HRT (Hormone Replacement Therapy). I’ll get there. I know I will.

It will take time. It will take effort. And it will take help. Help which I am determined to get.

Watch this space…

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Both are very important to me. I feel my best when I know what my schedule is. I function best when I know what is expected of me. Rituals help calm my mind and help me to focus. So, as you can imagine, the last month has been a great challenge as my schedule is in constant flux, there is an influx of emails demanding attention as well as phone calls, Zoom meetings, text messages and many more distractions.

I’ve never been good at managing boundaries, yet I am determined to come through the other end of COVID-19 with my marbles intact. Wish me luck.

I was lamenting with a friend that I’m feeling overwhelmed with the amount of contact that is demanded these days. I’m quite certain that I’m receiving at least twice as much email as I did before. And I’m attending 1000% more meetings by Zoom then I did before (that may be a slight exaggeration).

When I came back from medical leave I created a workspace in my flat so I could separate my home life and my work life. With the increase in Zoom, I’m finding there is a very blurry line between the two.

So what I (attempt to) do every day is turn off technology for part of the day or at least not respond to everything immediately. Constantly re-prioritizing is tiring, but necessary so I don’t feel too overwhelmed. I have discovered a feature on my mobile phone that when I place it face down it goes into Do Not Disturb mode. So texts, phone calls (unless from a specific list) and emails do not make any sound until the phone is turned back over.

I will be taking Friday and Saturday as my Sabbath Days as of next week. This week is Holy Week and I have Worship every day. My Sabbath Days will be marked with no electronics. No email, Slack, Facebook, Instagram, Zoom or Skype. Disconnection. An opportunity to be intentionally outside for more than half an hour.

If I need to sleep the day away, I will do so. If I want to clean my flat from top to bottom, I will do so. If I want to pack a lunch and take a drive, I will do so. With no guilt.

A couple of weeks ago I went to a waterfall about an hour’s drive from here. When I arrived there was not a soul in sight. I walked around to the other side of the falls and on the way back I noticed a dozen cars arriving. Everyone kept physical distance, we waved and smiled and got out of the way of each other. It was a lovely sunny day and I put the windows down in the car.

On the way home I stopped at one of my favourite hikes. There were three cars in the parking lot. I started the hike, realised after about 20 minutes that the trail was icy and not safe for me. So I turned around. I met a couple who stepped off the trail and asked how it was further along. I told them it was icy and with safe distance, they turned around as well.

I’m doing my best to take one day at a time. I’m doing my best to eat well and drink lots of water. I’m doing my best to go to bed early so if I have a rough night it’s not as bad come morning.

And of course, there’s the menopause, which will be a reflection for another day.

I hope you are all doing your best to take care of you.

We will get through this. And I do, truly believe, we will be stronger for it.

Take one day at a time, unless that feels too hard.

Then try one hour at a time, unless that feels too hard.

Then take one minute at a time. We’ll get there.

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begins a sonnet by William Wordsworth.

There has been so much hatred in the world…so much violence…so much intolerance and I’m struggling under the weight of it all.

Speaking of weight…today I was out and about running errands in the community where I live.  I was at the check-out in a store and two ladies were complaining about the weather.  I said I was glad for the cooler temperatures and one looked at me and said “I can see why”.  Curious, I asked what she meant.  She replied “you have your own built in coverage for warmth, you likely don’t like the heat”.

I opened and closed my mouth trying to find something humorous to say in return, but instead found myself on the verge of tears.  What she said was hurtful and dare I say, cruel.  Yes, I am overweight.  Yes, I don’t like extreme heat.  But I don’t think what I said warranted that kind of response.  I took my purchases and left.  I continued on my errands and came home feeling deflated and defeated.

The Church I love so much, that I have loved all my life, is voting on something incredibly close to my heart.  As a member of the rainbow community, the issue of same-gender marriage is important to me.  As a priest with many friends in the rainbow community, as it stands right now, I am not allowed to marry them in the Church.  The same Church that I love is pushing me, and people like me, aside.

My parish is holding a prayer vigil for the duration of General Synod.  Each day an email goes out and is posted on our Facebook page with prayers for the daily activities.  We are offering prayers for the marriage canon, but also for Indigenous rights, for visiting dignitaries and for audited financial statements.  We are praying for ears to hear, hearts to be open, for mouths to speak the truth in love and in faith.

Tomorrow’s gospel is one of my favourites, the Good Samaritan.  The epistle speaks of praying without ceasing, and that is what I have been doing.

For me, the gospel is about love.  The promises of our Creator, Saviour and Redeemer are all about love.  God never told us who to love.  God gave us the gift of love.  We are commanded to love our neighbour as ourselves and to love God above all else.  There’s no division of who gets more love, we all get the same because, in the eyes of God, we are all the same.

Tomorrow’s homily will be about praying without ceasing and loving your neighbour.  Tomorrow afternoon I am meeting with a couple who are to be married in August.  The day after they are married I have the honour of baptising their infant son, the mother and the Godfather.  It will be my first baptism in BC and, as always, a very emotional moment in the life of the Church.

My fondest hope and prayer for the family is that their child is raised knowing only what love is about.  That he never experience hatred and if he is exposed to it, he will know how to rise above it to show what love is all about.

If only we could focus on that which unites us; as children of God.  If we could focus on that which aligns us, rather than that which divides us, what a wonderful world this would be.  We would know the kingdom of God as we would be living it.

So now I will rest my weary body.  I will tend to my fractured heart.  I will rest in the knowledge that there are those who love me, as I am.  And for the rest, all I can do is love them as Christ loves me.

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When I was Chaplain at Diocesan Church Camp nearly 10 years ago, there was a favourite hymn we sang during communion…very simple tune, very simple words…

Let it rain, let it rain, open the floodgates of heaven and let it rain…

I had the honour, for several years, of being invited back during Staff Training Week to celebrate Eucharist and inevitably the song “Let it Rain” would be shared.  It was awesome.  Occasionally, one of the staff would rap the words to Jesus Loves Me over the melody and while it may sound strange, it was actually very powerful…

Jesus loves me, when I’m good, when I do the things I should

Jesus loves me, when I’m bad, even though it makes Him sad.

Let it rain, let it rain, open the floodgates of heaven and let it rain…

It’s been raining here for more than a day.  It started raining last night and has continued.  Usually I walk to the nursing home for the service on the 4th Sunday, but today I decided to drive because it was raining hard, was cold and I was simply feeling lazy…

I’m not sure what’s up, but my get up and go has got up and gone…I’m feeling lethargic, tired and somewhat cranky.

Let it rain…let it rain…open the floodgates of heaven and let it rain…

Today is also Trinity Sunday, one of, if not THE most difficult homily to preach.

How do you describe something that is indescribable?  One person who is three persons?  One being who his three beings?  Huh, what?  Father, Son and Holy Spirit?  Creator, Redeemer, Sanctifier?

I pulled out an ancient source the Creed attributed to St. Athanasius.  It has 42 petitions that attempts to describe and define the Trinity.  It’s wordy, and awkward, and frustrating. I started reading it in Church today and at the half-way point, dropped the service book on the floor, threw my hands up and said “I give up”.

Let it rain…let it rain…open the floodgates of heaven and let it rain…

Then I started talking about relationships.  For Lent I challenged the congregation to deepen their relationship with God…yes, the Triune God.  I suggested that when we strive to identify or label something, sometimes it diminishes the significance of that relationship.  So perhaps we are better to not label it, but simply to explore and enjoy it.

Was it a cop out?  Possibly.  Did I cheat the congregation?  I don’t think so.

Will I preach the Trinity next year?  Um, not likely.  But then again, I do love a good challenge.

I am supposed to go out of town tomorrow to do some exploring.  The weather forecast is the same for tomorrow as it is for today…generally I like doing things in the rain…I love to dance in the summer rain…but this rain is definitely not dancing rain…it’s ch-ch-ch-chilly.

So I may instead spend the day relaxing.  Maybe a few chores around the house, yoga, writing, meditation, soak in the tub, movie watching, perhaps a short walk…I have provisions in the house so I don’t have to go out.

Regardless, tomorrow is a day off.  A day relaxation.  A day to unplug and simply be.  Perhaps part of my day will be spent staring out the window, watching the rains fall…

Let it rain…let it rain…open the floodgates of heaven, and let it rain…

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I’m exhausted. I’m not really sure why…but I suspect it has more to do with emotional than physical exhaustion. Usually I’m up to date with emails and phone calls. I’m terrific at keeping up to date with filing, correspondence and all that kind of stuff. And yet lately, I’m finding myself getting behind, and while aggravated, I’m not worried about getting it done…as I guess I know it will get done.

I decided a week or so ago that it was time to put the paperwork together to file for divorce. As an educated woman I thought the process would be relatively simple…and after spending far too much time on the provincial website, only to discover that the jpg reader was out of date on my laptop, I debated about spending the $1,000 to get someone else to file the paperwork.

I had a cup of tea, a frustrated cry and started again the next day. And much to my amazement, I was able to navigate the forms with relative ease. This afternoon I took the carefully prepared forms to the court hours in the next largest city to the one where I live. The Registrar was very helpful and found a couple of mistakes. She also told me I needed to present her with 4 copies of all the documents. So I went to a friend’s home and made the corrections, then made copies of the forms and took them back to the Court House.

I now have a court file number that needs to go on all the other forms. As soon as I can arrange it, my soon-to-be ex-husband will be served with the primary document. The challenge of that is he lives in a different province…but it is doable.

Tonight when I got home I realised just how weary I was. I had an hours sleep and was supposed to meet with a couple for pre-marriage planning but I was simply too tired, so we’ve rescheduled for next week. Easy enough.

I’ve been looking at short hairstyles on Pinterest. I’ve decided I need a change in my appearance…and hair is the ultimate fashion accessory. I’m going to see my hairdresser tomorrow and hopefully either get it cut or make an appointment to get it cut. It’s time for a change.

My summer wardrobe is flowy dresses, capri’s and sandals. When its necessary to wear a clergy shirt, I wear one with one of the dresses. Definitely built for comfort this time of year.

As I reflect back on who I was before I came West I can see a significant shift in me. I’m more confident that I was before. I am far less afraid. I am as good a preacher as I ever was and as skilled a liturgist as I’ve ever been, but I feel, in some ways, as though I’m seeing the world differently.

I’m excited to be who I am. I’m excited at who I’ve become. I’m claiming back my identity and I will not surrender it again. Nobody will prevent me from being me. Not even myself.

With a shiny new haircut and a “go get ’em” attitude, I will have a new lease on life.

But right now it’s time for a cup of sleepytime tea and an early night. The only thing I’m after right now is my pillow…

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Lent is my favourite season in the Church.  Holy Week is a marathon of services, in my case 10 services in 8 days.  By the end of the week I’m astonished, exhausted, relieved, overwhelmed and just about any other emotion you can imagine.  In short, I am absolutely spent.

Usually I don’t take too much time off after Easter because there’s always the next thing to do; Bible Study, homiletic preparation, study, liturgical preparation.  This year I decided to take 4 days off after Easter, but not all together.  And that was intentional.

Yesterday I took my first day trip south of the border since I moved to the small town in BC where I now reside.  It was wonderful.  Thankfully I had a tour guide who drove so I could oohh and aahh as we drove along.  Every now and then one of us would see something, and exclaim “LOOK”.  Then we’d stop the car, get out and look.

If I had to recreate the trip I likely could, with some consultation from the driver.  It was, all in all, a perfect day off.  I didn’t talk about work.  I didn’t think about work.  I simply was.  We gazed at vistas, mountains, trees, lakes, rocks, plains.  And marveled in the glory of God.

We talked as we traveled…okay I did most of the talking…and also enjoyed listening to music and traveling in silence.

Today I had great plans of things I was going to get done around the house…dusting, laundry, washing the floor…and I’ve decided instead to relax.  The housework will wait.  My dining room table needs cleaning off and the table cloth needs laundering, but it doesn’t need to happen today.

Today is about self-care.  It’s about resting.  Refreshing.  Relaxing.  Tomorrow I’m back at it, happily and Thursday I have Easter home communions, which I enjoy.  Then Friday and Saturday I’m off.  This time brings out my itchy feet…my wanderlust.  And while part of me would love to get in the car and go, my body is telling me to slow down and rest.

And *gasp*, I’m listening.

So I’ve made myself a cup of tea and will head over to the post office later and maybe pick up some bagels, but otherwise, I’m a home body today.

And that’s just grand!

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I have walked around the neighbourhood…have discovered where many things are located and how to get there by car or by walking.  I’m getting there…

I took my traveling companion to Calgary Airport yesterday so she could fly to London (Ontario) and then begin her long drive home to the Bruce Peninsula.

Last night I ate supper alone and it was grand.  I had soup she had made before she left.  I rearranged furniture, moved curtains around and started to make my mark on this place.  Last night I sat and watched the snow fall, Christmas Eve snow, called Fernie Powder.  It was grand!

Woke this morning to more snow, a couple of inches of accumulation, and the need to get boxes unpacked in the office.  The boxes are all unpacked.  My desk drawers have things in them and there is the residual “stuff” on the top of the desk that will be relocated soon.  The box of files and CD’s has been found.  My service books are located and easily accessible.  There’s still 8 boxes coming that wouldn’t fit in the car the day of the move…they should be here this week (or so).

I’m scheduling meetings, meeting my Regional Dean next week and preparing for my first Sunday in the pulpit (figuratively speaking…I’m more of a “in the midst” kind of preacher) and behind the table.  I’m nervous.  And I’m tired.

I think the reality of where I am and what I’m doing is hitting home.  I’m going to finish up a few things in the office, then call it a day here…make some lunch and venture out to the post office and for some groceries.

Tonight I have a music planning meeting, that’s exciting! I’ve not been involved in Music Selection in many years…so this will be a treat!

And tomorrow is my first official day off since arrival.  And yes, I’m going to take it.

Life, as they say, is grand!

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This morning we left Winnipeg, Manitoba and tonight we stopped in Swift Current, Saskatchewan.  It was about 9 hours of driving and 800 kilometers.  We made stops for food, gas, stretches and giggles.

This has been a remarkable journey thus far.  The landscape changed from cityscape to rural, from hills to plains and prairie.  We saw Ice Roads, rivers, wheat, trees and rock.  What a remarkable country we get to call home.

I’ve seen all manner of vehicles on the road.  Traveled at the speed limit, below it and occasionally above it.  Cruise control is wonderful.

So tonight as I reflect back on the time my friend and I have traveled I have literally shaken the dust off my shoes from Ontario and begin to embrace my new life in the West.  We are not yet in the mountains, but I find myself yearning for my new home.

I’ve never lived outside of Ontario, so this will be a new chapter and adventure.  I’m excited to see what the future holds.

And for right now I’m going to have a long soak in the tub, check out tomorrow’s route and pray for restful sleep.

Tomorrow is B.C. or bust!

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Happy Easter!  What an incredible rush to celebrate the risen Lord.  This Holy Week was as busy as other years, but I think having two parishioners die within hours of each other on the Saturday before Palm Sunday added a bit to the tension of the week.  Having remembered to breathe deeply, put one foot in front of the other, and remember just who is in charge (not me) made things seem a little bit easier…having perspective really makes things manageable.

Palm Sunday was the usual outdoor start, in the cold temperatures of late March.  But we braved the chill and the wind and waved our palms and chanted “Hosanna!  Hosanna in the highest!” waking the neighbours and startling the drivers that passed the Church.  Some waved back, which was a lovely added bonus.

Holy Monday we gathered to walk the fourteen Stations of the Cross, as we travelled the journey which Jesus took, pausing to give thanks for the choices he made.  Discussion afterwards with the small, yet dedicated crowd made me feel how incredibly powerful this service is for many.

Holy Tuesday we gathered for a special service originally written for the Youth Group.  It was tweaked somewhat but included the main question, “What if Jesus had said no?”  It focussed on the readings from the gospel which tell the story of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, where He asks God to take away this cup.  The response is silence.  Why doesn’t God speak?  What if Jesus had refused to go any further?  These questions elicited some incredible discussion.  We joined together in prayer, sang a couple of songs and departed.  Tuesday afternoon was spent at a visitation for one parishioner and a prayer service/private family viewing for another.

Holy Wednesday’s service was cancelled in order to accommodate the Celebration of Life for one of the parishioners, and it was an opportunity to see how a small town supports those who are struggling.  The congregation was not huge, but the man we gathered to celebrate would have been very proud at who came out.  The weather was perfect for the day, sunny and warm, a perfect spring day.

Holy Thursday saw us at the Cathedral Church to celebrate the Blessing of the Oils and then back home to celebrate Maundy Thursday, the first of the Three Sacred Days or Paschal Triduum.  We sang, we washed feet, we cried, we hugged.  We celebrated communion for the last time before the crucifixion and then stripped the altar and left the worship space in silence and darkness.  The tomb was readied.

Friday morning we gathered for the middle service of the Triduum, Good Friday.  We sang, was prayed, we cried.  The cross was decorated with towel, sign, stalk, nails, crown and royal purple.  I preached on what is “good” about Good Friday; that a symbol of hatred and control was changed to a symbol of love and new life.  A reminder that we worship the empty cross, and the empty tomb.  Again we left in stunned silence…and in hopeful anticipation.

Saturday morning a small but dedicated crew gathered at the Church to clean up the palms from Palm Sunday, to polish the brass and silver, and ready the worship space for Easter Day.  I dragged the font into the Gathering Space and set up chairs in the Parish Hall for the last of the Triduum, The Easter Vigil.  That night we lit the new fire, illumined the darkness, sang the Exultet, shared the stories, psalms and prayers, sang, laughed, cried, shared the peace and renewed our baptism vows.  We got to the entrance of the tomb, but were not allowed in…it was not yet time.

This morning the font was returned to it’s rightful place.  The papier mache stone was rolled away and adorned with lilies to show new life.  The tomb has burst open and we see signs of new life.  A larger than usual crowd came to the early service and we celebrated the resurrection and our first Alleluia’s of the season.  At 10:30 we were comfortably full, welcoming 6 strangers to our midst as well as a half dozen baby bunnies…two weeks old.  We sang, we laughed, we learned of the vessels we are and how we receive strength through the fires of trial and temptation.  We shared communion for the first time since Christ was risen and sang Hallelujah until our voices were hoarse.

Tomorrow will be tidying up a few things at the office, putting robes away, sorting service books…working on bulletins.  Then my own three sacred days…of rest.

Alleluia!  Christ is Risen!  The Lord is risen indeed.  ALLELUIA!

I’ll be over here napping, if you need me…

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One of the most overused terms these days is “outside the box”. We strive to be distinct, individual, different than everybody else. Quite often people ask me to describe myself and it ends up as a series of labels…

My list would look something like this…in alphabetical order

adrenal fatigue
afraid
Ally
anger
Anglican
broken wrist
bullied
Child of God
Christian
chronic fatigue syndrome
colleague
cousin
deacon
depression
dignity
educated
elation
employed
environmentalist
exhaustion
female
food addict
Free-spirit
friend
frustration
heterosexual
homo sapien
hopeful
human being
in-law
lay reader
Liberal
married
mother by marriage
naive
Nana
obsessive-compulsive
optimistic
outlaw
overweight
philosopher
priest
short hair
sister
spectacled
sprained ankle
survivor
theologian
tree hugger
university graduate
wife
yoga attempter

and of all these labels, the one of which I am most proud is Child of God. It defines me better than any other. How about you?

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