Shopping at Trader Joe's today, I noticed quite a few caregiving couples, comprised of a younger relative (or perhaps nurse) assisting a quivering elder with grocery shopping. My friend E. told me that, once his dad fell ill with Alzheimer's, he started noticing these types of couples more and more -- perhaps I'm getting there.
I was reminded of shopping with my mom over Christmas, for a gift for my cousin. Once Mom gets fixed on something she wants, there's no stopping her; this time, she reached up and over another woman to grab at a pair of slipper socks. Thankfully, the woman perused Mom's stoic, glazed expression, and caught my silently mouthed, "I'm sorry." Instead of getting pissed, she pulled me aside and said quietly, "My dad was like that. I know. God bless you."
I had to turn away before I crumpled entirely, but I managed to wring out a smile. Another time, some women waiting to use the lav at a state park let Mom and I go to the front of the line after they saw my desperate expression (and perhaps her sodden pants). People are nice sometimes. Sometimes they're idiots, yes; but Mom seems to bring out the best in them.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Living yoga
Just got out of another class and, as usual, the wellspring of ideas, good vibes, and sheer life force flows so thick and fast toward the end of the class that I find it hard to relax, let alone meditate, in corpse pose at the end of things. Here's how the runaway thought train goes: "What about taking some before-and-after photos for the blog? Ouch, could be unpretty...Where can I practice headstand at home and not kill myself...must write down what I did right in that balance, otherwise I"ll never be able to do it again...I feel so blissed out!" And so forth.
The upside to being distracted is that it shows I'm obviously thrilled by my re-discovery of yoga. I want to keep the momentum going, and am fairly dedicated to trying to learn about and live a more yogic lifestyle. I've always been an all-or-nothing sort of girl, and find I can only truly accomplish anything when I am totally committed to it. I suspect it's that way for a lot of us.
Therefore, I want to learn about the history of yoga, what the various Sanskrit terms for poses mean and their origin, how to train my mind, how to cook fresh, healthy vegan (instead of relying on endless packs of Tasty Bite Indian beans) and basically do whatever I have to do in daily life to improve in what I think is quite a demanding undertaking. I'm under no illusion that I can dedicate my entire life to becoming a yogi, as was the practice in yoga's beginnings. But I don't think that combining yoga classes with gourmet food, for example, or having a competition in it, is quite the thing. To this novice, yoga seems like more of a cerebral than gustatory exercise, more a stretching of the self than a performance.
The upside to being distracted is that it shows I'm obviously thrilled by my re-discovery of yoga. I want to keep the momentum going, and am fairly dedicated to trying to learn about and live a more yogic lifestyle. I've always been an all-or-nothing sort of girl, and find I can only truly accomplish anything when I am totally committed to it. I suspect it's that way for a lot of us.
Therefore, I want to learn about the history of yoga, what the various Sanskrit terms for poses mean and their origin, how to train my mind, how to cook fresh, healthy vegan (instead of relying on endless packs of Tasty Bite Indian beans) and basically do whatever I have to do in daily life to improve in what I think is quite a demanding undertaking. I'm under no illusion that I can dedicate my entire life to becoming a yogi, as was the practice in yoga's beginnings. But I don't think that combining yoga classes with gourmet food, for example, or having a competition in it, is quite the thing. To this novice, yoga seems like more of a cerebral than gustatory exercise, more a stretching of the self than a performance.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Fear of falling, in yoga and life
One of the biggest fears I have for my upcoming solo caretaking stint is that Mom will fall again, breaking another arm, or worse. Dad can barely let her walk around, so great is his fear of this - and they don't even have a flight of stairs. I've got two, and need to figure out how I can get her safely down to her bedroom and shower, and make sure she doesn't go downstairs without me accompanying her. I fear she'll simply topple over a kids' gate. I wonder if a simple chest-high band or bar will be enough to remind her to ask me for help, if she wants to get down? Or will she simply try to go under it?
Meanwhile, I have the same kind of fears for myself, only they have to do with inversions in yoga class. I've always had a fear of being upside down, despite being able to turn a decent cartwheel. At the same time, those yogic handstands and forearm balances hold quite a bit of awe and fascination for me; they are the epitome of grace and fitness. Never mind that I am light years away from being able to do a basic headstand. (Confession: I've been subscribing to Yoga Journal for years without actually practicing yoga. I just liked looking at slim, beautiful people doing yoga. I call it 'yoga porn.')
In any case, at my most recent class, when I had managed to do this kind of upside-down egg headstand, with teacher Jennifer's help (am I supposed to call her 'yogi Jennifer?' Don't have the lingo down yet), she told the class afterward about her early upside-down fears, of cracking her wrist, or skull, or spine. Aha! I'm not the only one. Ergo, I must in theory be able to achieve a headstand, too, and conquer these fears of crashing and cracking. I learned that the headstand involves good balance on the crown of your head, plus adequate reliance on your arms, rather than on your neck muscles; you must also have enough strength in your core to get those plow-pushers -- I mean, legs -- up and over your head.
Three weeks until Mom comes. Can I conquer both fears before she gets here?
Meanwhile, I have the same kind of fears for myself, only they have to do with inversions in yoga class. I've always had a fear of being upside down, despite being able to turn a decent cartwheel. At the same time, those yogic handstands and forearm balances hold quite a bit of awe and fascination for me; they are the epitome of grace and fitness. Never mind that I am light years away from being able to do a basic headstand. (Confession: I've been subscribing to Yoga Journal for years without actually practicing yoga. I just liked looking at slim, beautiful people doing yoga. I call it 'yoga porn.')
In any case, at my most recent class, when I had managed to do this kind of upside-down egg headstand, with teacher Jennifer's help (am I supposed to call her 'yogi Jennifer?' Don't have the lingo down yet), she told the class afterward about her early upside-down fears, of cracking her wrist, or skull, or spine. Aha! I'm not the only one. Ergo, I must in theory be able to achieve a headstand, too, and conquer these fears of crashing and cracking. I learned that the headstand involves good balance on the crown of your head, plus adequate reliance on your arms, rather than on your neck muscles; you must also have enough strength in your core to get those plow-pushers -- I mean, legs -- up and over your head.
Three weeks until Mom comes. Can I conquer both fears before she gets here?
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Breakthroughs
In future posts, I promise to put the word "yoga" in the headline, so if you're not into yoga you can just skip over the post. But today I just want to trumpet to the world how great I think the practice of yoga is, physically, mentally, the whole Megillah* - so please bear with me.
Anyway, here I am in the second week of Starting Yoga, Again, and For The Last Time. The initial pain from the muscles on either side of my torso, lower abdomen and shoulder has subsided, which is slightly disappointing as it gives me great pleasure to know that I've worked these hitherto unused body parts.
I'm sure I'll find new areas in which to ache, however, particularly as I am determined to do head/handstands. Someday. I suspect that is a long way away, as even a down dog held longer than five breaths sets my upper arms a-tremble like the last leaf in a November wind.
In any case, I've been trying these "flow" classes, which link various positions and poses. Attention to breathwork is paramount, otherwise the whole passage becomes a shoddy mess. Now that I've memorized some of the sequences, though, I'm finally getting it. And I also had a breakthrough in actually physically working through something I've realized for a long time: You can use your body to trick your mind into being at peace.
As a former health editor, I knew this. Exercise improves your mood. Meditation, or even very simple, easy, repetitive breathing, can lower your blood pressure. I've used Andrew Weil's 4-7-8 breath successfully many, many times to quell road rage. Even smiling can actually make you feel happier, even if you didn't feel like smiling in the first place.
But today is the first time I realized, as I moved semi-smoothly from pose to pose, drawing breath in...out...in...and out, that I can really get, out of yoga, one of my primary goals, which is to be a calmer, saner, more clear-headed person when I'm taking care of my mom and talking my dad back from the ledge.
*Do you know where the phrase "the whole Magillah" comes from? I didn't, and found very amusing and interesting trivia upon looking it up - check it out.
Anyway, here I am in the second week of Starting Yoga, Again, and For The Last Time. The initial pain from the muscles on either side of my torso, lower abdomen and shoulder has subsided, which is slightly disappointing as it gives me great pleasure to know that I've worked these hitherto unused body parts.
I'm sure I'll find new areas in which to ache, however, particularly as I am determined to do head/handstands. Someday. I suspect that is a long way away, as even a down dog held longer than five breaths sets my upper arms a-tremble like the last leaf in a November wind.
In any case, I've been trying these "flow" classes, which link various positions and poses. Attention to breathwork is paramount, otherwise the whole passage becomes a shoddy mess. Now that I've memorized some of the sequences, though, I'm finally getting it. And I also had a breakthrough in actually physically working through something I've realized for a long time: You can use your body to trick your mind into being at peace.
As a former health editor, I knew this. Exercise improves your mood. Meditation, or even very simple, easy, repetitive breathing, can lower your blood pressure. I've used Andrew Weil's 4-7-8 breath successfully many, many times to quell road rage. Even smiling can actually make you feel happier, even if you didn't feel like smiling in the first place.
But today is the first time I realized, as I moved semi-smoothly from pose to pose, drawing breath in...out...in...and out, that I can really get, out of yoga, one of my primary goals, which is to be a calmer, saner, more clear-headed person when I'm taking care of my mom and talking my dad back from the ledge.
*Do you know where the phrase "the whole Magillah" comes from? I didn't, and found very amusing and interesting trivia upon looking it up - check it out.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Lunch with Oprah
Had a dream last night in which my mom and I were having lunch with Oprah and her friend -- what's her name, Gayle? -- and I was telling Oprah, "You really need to do a segment on early-onset dementia. There are millions of sufferers! It's being called "the baby-boomer disease!"
I'm thinking that this dream was a very real reflection of my desires to a) call attention to the disease and the devastation it brings and b) therefore get folks to rise up against all the man-made risks of getting dementia or Parkinsonian movement disorders. Not that we know much about them yet -- eating meat? polluted water? pesticides? -- but there certainly should be more attention devoted to research. A little ribbon at least.
I'm thinking that this dream was a very real reflection of my desires to a) call attention to the disease and the devastation it brings and b) therefore get folks to rise up against all the man-made risks of getting dementia or Parkinsonian movement disorders. Not that we know much about them yet -- eating meat? polluted water? pesticides? -- but there certainly should be more attention devoted to research. A little ribbon at least.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Aching to try yoga
I've started yoga (again) to try to get my body and mind under control before Mom comes to stay. I would love to have a regular practice for the rest of my life, actually; now that I'm middle-age and facing, shall we say, the end of the road rather than its beginning, it's time to get serious about making the precious time I've got healthy and sane.
So, jumping in with two feet, and trying to get at least one off the floor gracefully, and perhaps both, if I ever conquer my fear and weak upper arms to do a great headstand. The thing is, I'm surprised at how much I can do. I may be short and buxom, with what my Mom has always called our "plow-pushin' legs," inherited from our European peasant ancestors. But I'm flexible. I seem to have good balance. And when there is a small success, even remembering to breathe regularly -- I tend to hold my breath when I'm stressed -- I'm elated.
Then, I try to keep the good vibes flowing by curtaining my road rage, child nagging and political ranting for at least 24 hours. I've adopted some of the yogic lifestyle, too, by not eating meat. That has a selfish background, though; as you know, I've decided after researching that there is some link, with scope as yet undetermined, between eating a lot of meat and poultry and the risk of coming down with dementia. Also a selfish motivation: My muscles are hurting right now in places I'd forgotten existed on my body. Can toning be far behind? One hopes.
I'm also digging the spiritual aspect. I must admit, however, that upon letting out my first squeaky "oooooooommmmmm" I felt awkward; when teacher Kent last week did a wee bit of chanting, the hardened atheist inside my head let out an insolent giggle. I have no idea what he said in the chant, nor do I really want to know just yet; it was comforting, and I'll take it. And I am more than happy to bow to the light within, as teacher Jennifer suggests, at the end of class. The brighter the light, these days, the better.
So, jumping in with two feet, and trying to get at least one off the floor gracefully, and perhaps both, if I ever conquer my fear and weak upper arms to do a great headstand. The thing is, I'm surprised at how much I can do. I may be short and buxom, with what my Mom has always called our "plow-pushin' legs," inherited from our European peasant ancestors. But I'm flexible. I seem to have good balance. And when there is a small success, even remembering to breathe regularly -- I tend to hold my breath when I'm stressed -- I'm elated.
Then, I try to keep the good vibes flowing by curtaining my road rage, child nagging and political ranting for at least 24 hours. I've adopted some of the yogic lifestyle, too, by not eating meat. That has a selfish background, though; as you know, I've decided after researching that there is some link, with scope as yet undetermined, between eating a lot of meat and poultry and the risk of coming down with dementia. Also a selfish motivation: My muscles are hurting right now in places I'd forgotten existed on my body. Can toning be far behind? One hopes.
I'm also digging the spiritual aspect. I must admit, however, that upon letting out my first squeaky "oooooooommmmmm" I felt awkward; when teacher Kent last week did a wee bit of chanting, the hardened atheist inside my head let out an insolent giggle. I have no idea what he said in the chant, nor do I really want to know just yet; it was comforting, and I'll take it. And I am more than happy to bow to the light within, as teacher Jennifer suggests, at the end of class. The brighter the light, these days, the better.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Skills testing
One of the ideas I had while at my parents' was to try to test Mom on various skills, to see what she's still capable of handling. From what I've been reading, listlessness and depression can greatly worsen symptoms of, well, just about any disease, so if she can still be useful to herself and others, so much the better.
The results were mixed. Mom could help me hold a wooden doll's bed as I dissembled it, but was not able to pack it back into its box for mailing. She can put ingredients into and stir spaghetti sauce (even correcting my measurements), but can't open cans, and I caught her breaking down the fresh tomatoes with her fingers -- which may just be her technique, who knows. She can't find the words for "lemon" or "face cream" but can sing along to the oldies. She can empty a dishwasher, but not replace the dishes.
My dad is so afraid she'll fall again that he's loathe to let her do anything, but I'll definitely let her give most things a try here, under my supervision of course. My housekeeping, frankly, isn't much better.
The results were mixed. Mom could help me hold a wooden doll's bed as I dissembled it, but was not able to pack it back into its box for mailing. She can put ingredients into and stir spaghetti sauce (even correcting my measurements), but can't open cans, and I caught her breaking down the fresh tomatoes with her fingers -- which may just be her technique, who knows. She can't find the words for "lemon" or "face cream" but can sing along to the oldies. She can empty a dishwasher, but not replace the dishes.
My dad is so afraid she'll fall again that he's loathe to let her do anything, but I'll definitely let her give most things a try here, under my supervision of course. My housekeeping, frankly, isn't much better.
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