Build me up, Buttercup.

Every year I imagine I can be prepared enough to slow down the Term 4 Tornado.
But I never can.  The calendar and the inbox cram themselves with things I can’t do justice to; my daughter’s graduation banquet, my son’s camp, athletics day, events. I start to get that panicky accelaration feeling you get when the roller coaster takes off.
I’m rattling down the track and the wheels start to wobble. I grasp around for an emergency brake, but this roller coaster doesn’t have one. I look ahead to 2016 and brace myself. I just need to make it to that shiny horizon. That beautiful, new, unsullied year. Then I can wrestle some peace out of the pace. I just need to make it there…

Things have been a bit crazy.

I was supposed to be graduating from my programme on Friday, but I am not. Some people can get over things quickly and move on.  I’m not one of those people. It takes time for me to feel alright again after I’ve been kicked. So I am staying away and I am sad that I won’t be with my cohort for their very special night. I’m sad all of the year’s work and thinking won’t be recognised for me. I am told this is my choice, but circumstances made it very difficult for me to make a different one.

And there has been the situation with the grandies, all the to and fro’ing. And an awful phone conversation this week where I was told all the meals I made and the efforts I made to help were not wanted. It felt like a sucker punch to the guts.  I guess I have been feeling sensitive anyway after the flak I copped for my blog. To cop flak for trying to be a good daughter in law was just too much, I held it in until he had hung up the phone.  Then the floodgates opened.

I went for a walk to the park at the end of our little street. I couldn’t stop crying; even big girls cry sometimes.  I stared up into the branches of a massive oak tree and tried to rationalise all of it, I looked around the park. Tried to find a clear headspace where I could step away from the noise and mess in my mind. And then I saw this. A small patch of weed infested grass. The sun, dappling across the tops of the grass. Tiny yellow buttercups holding up their little faces to the warmth.  Uncomplicated. Just, there. Just being them.

12143352_10153830827270815_1516630041189890357_n

I decided I need to do a bit more of that. Just letting the sun soak into my face. Just sitting in a field. Just looking at the flowers. Just being me.

I’m taking myself away with Flo this weekend. Away from the sad feelings I have about missing graduation. We’re going to have long breakfasty-lunches and stroll slowly along Oriental Parade. We’re going to chat and laugh and enjoy the easy company of each other and the joy of no responsiblities. It’s going to be a tonic.

What does your weekend hold?  I hope you get the chance to be like the buttercup. Even for a little bit. The new year is just around the corner …I am fairly confident in my prediction that there will be sunshine. 🙂

 

 

 

To Be.

tobeornottobe

Toward the end of last year, just as my sorry self was beginning to think I was running out of anything important enough to offer the world, I received an email that heralded a big change.  It was from Kylie at the Be.Accessible organisation.  I’ve written about them before, here.  They do excellent work in New Zealand: working onsite to improve accessibility across the country, increasing employment prospects for graduates with accessibility issues, championing the thinking about accessibility and community with the big thinkers of the private sector and developing leaders for social change.

I had written a piece about my birthday shopping expedition.  It was an accessibility nightmare.  You might have seen that piece, it was called Gone Girl.  Well, Kylie read it and emailed me, inviting me to a meeting to discuss ‘synergies’.  I thought that maybe she wanted to talk to me about my writing, so I went prepared.  I took a copy of my stats from the blog and had prepared to answer questions of the commercial kind.  But Kylie and her colleague Iris, wanted to know about my philosophy.  My core beliefs.  My illness journey and why I write; they asked if I knew what my audience was and for the first time I had an objective measure of what those stats meant.  It was a turning point for me. Kylie asked if I had thought much about the future of my blog and the directions my writing might take. And she outlined the Be.Leadership program.  They invited me to apply.

I came home fizzing. My whole body was shaking with the effort of the meeting, the nervousness I had felt and then the excitement as a whole new possibility opened up for me.  It’s one of the things I have learned to love about having a life that has swerved so far from my original plans. It keeps surprising me!  I applied, and then, on Christmas Eve I received the message I had been hoping for.  I had been accepted into the program.  Every year, 20 people from the disability community are selected to undertake a year of inquiry, reflection and growth in the field of social leadership. We’ll be engaging with leaders from a range of industries and sectors.  We’ll be workshopping, discussing, thinking and growing as leaders ourselves.

One of the things I thought had passed me by when I got ill, was the opportunity to do further study.  I just didn’t know how I would manage to physically do all the things required to even begin.  How I would be able to manage a fixed schedule with an unpredictable illness?   But life seems to be smiling my way.  I will be studying, after all.  I’ll be studying with an organisation who are committed to accessibility, they are perfectly positioned to understand diversity. So it will be possible for me to make the accommodations I need, to do what I need to do. And I will be studying something I am passionate about:  how to help make our society one “where everyone can just BE.” (Minnie Baragwanath).  I’ll be representing the unique perspective of people suffering with invisible illness and disabilities.  I’ll be writing.  And if I continue to feel as I do now on pulse steroid therapy, I’ll be able to do it with so much more energy.

After years of pushing against a tide of impossibility, my own sea of troubles, there’s a ship on my horizon. Once upon a time Shakespeare penned the timeless question; “To be or not to be?”.   I smile, as I write the following words: ‘to Be.’ is my answer.  To be all that I can be.  The programme starts in March, I am gathering together my reading list and filling my head with all manner of anticipations! But before I get all carried away with it, I want to say thank you; because in all truth, this pathway has opened up for me because of this blog… and that wouldn’t exist without my readers. That’s YOU!  I have found that writing about the things that matter gives me purpose, knowing you care about these things too gives me hope.  Thank you for giving my words the chance to enter your space. Thank you for reading and encouraging and helping me through all of the difficulties.  Thank you for sharing with me a passion for growing a compassionate, understanding community for people with invisible illness and disability. Now, it’s time for us to celebrate something great.  The start of an exciting new learning journey.  I can’t wait to share it with you!

I’m off to Be.Leadership!

teddyrooseveltP.S The above quote was mentioned by Bear Grylls in his show, The Island, on the telly last night.  He was talking about great leadership.  It stuck with me because I think it is a vital part of leadership. How important it is to show people you care before you can hope to lead them.  It is my desire to be that kind of leader. I’ll be thinking about that while I prepare for my first ‘Be.Leadership’ task.  Watch this space!

To be or not to be?

Calling out My Name

So many exciting things have been happening in my life lately.  Thanks to my friend Sheryn, I made a connection with an organisation called Be.Accessible who are passionate about creating social change in New Zealand. Their vision is for our country to be wholly accessible, so that anyone of us can just, be.  It’s a vision that has a great deal of synergy with my own. My own efforts towards building awareness and understanding in our community here in New Zealand (and with people online everywhere) are all about that.  About promoting understanding and acceptance.

Sharon Davies   Be.Leadership Alumni

I feel very strongly about helping people with ‘invisible’ illness and or disabilities, chronic illness and rare conditions that people find hard to comprehend. I write not just for me, not just for people with Dysautonomia, but for anyone who suffers the torment of not being understood, of finding judgement where they should find kindness.  I use my words so that others might find something they can share with their loved ones. A way to explain what they haven’t been able to explain.  Sometimes it is hard to find the words.

Doing that.  Using my words, has brought me to a surprising place in my life.  My health continues to deteriorate, but my heart and mind are filled with bigger and better thoughts than ever before. I saw my Granny today and she asked “Are you well?” and I could honestly reply to her “All is well with my soul!” I have a purpose and a direction that I never even knew was in my future.  I thought everything was so lost to me. I thought all of those things were out the window. Gone. But here I am, about to embark on something new.  The joy bubbles up from inside, how surprising and wonderful life can be!

Last night I attended an event here in Auckland, down on the waterfront.  It was the graduation for this years participants in the Be.Leadership programme.  The programme aims to mentor people into positions of greater social leadership by providing a year long programme of discussions and learning with some of New Zealand’s great leaders.  Among other great initiatives!  The program cost is $17,000 and this is fully funded for selected participants.  I have applied (squee!) and I am waiting to hear what happens next… so watch this space!

Sharon Davies   Be.Leadership Alumni(1)

_________________________________________________________

Last month I began writing for the parenting column of a popular Dysautonomia Newsletter in the States. And I met my editor, Ellen, online.  Sometimes when you meet someone, just as it is in person, you just click right away. It was like that with Ellen. She understands me and we have had lots of wonderful email conversations, back and forth from one part of the world to another. She is a wonderful encouragement to me. Recently she sent me this song. It stopped me in my tracks. What a voice. What lyrics!  Thanks Ellen, this song is my new anthem, it so perfectly expresses why I continue to find things that I CAN do.  Life is calling out my name.
Here is Beth Hart singing “Life is Calling”

 

…and, the lyrics…
Sunday morning, the world’s still sleeping
And the rain keeps falling like angels weeping
And I, I feel the tears on my skin
They’re trying to tell me something
I listen

Blues and yellows tap on my window
And I let the night go with all my shadows
And I, I feel the sun on my skin
It’s trying to tell me something
I listen

Life is calling, life is calling
Life is calling out my name
Make it matter, say it louder
Stay alive another day
Life is calling out my name

Perfect houses with good intentions
Where the happy families hide their broken dishes
And I, I hear the scars on my skin
They’re trying to tell me something so
I listen

Life is calling, life is calling
Life is calling out my name
Make it matter say it louder
Stay alive another day
Life is calling out my name

It’s the wind over the ocean
It’s the secrets in the sand
It’s all trying to tell me something
So I’m listening

Life is calling, life is calling
Life is calling out my name
Make it matter just say it louder
Stay alive another day
Life is calling, life is calling
Life is calling out my name