This is my dreamboard for August as I pray/wish/hope for shalom in my physical self.

Last month’s dream of curtains and spotlights is still alive and kicking. I’m still playing guitar, and I’m working with a life coach to figure out what that mysterious phrase might mean for me.

For more information about dreamboarding click here. Good shabbat to you!

The cover from my current journal, made with a postcard of Picasso’s “The Old Guitarist”–my personal icon of mourning.

I am coming to the realization that I have two functional weeks a month. Otherwise the pain level is too severe. I can’t write well when I’m this foggy.

For awhile there, for a beautiful hopeful season, I was in better remission and I had most of the month free and clear. But now, it’s back to just two weeks. If it gets worse, if it gets to be more than this, I’ll have to fly home and see my super special Dr. Woo-Woo and get back on top of this. You all have to hold me accountable to this okay? If I’m out of it more than two weeks a month you have to say, “Rachelle, it’s worth the money. Fly home. Spend a week or two on Dr. Lewis’ treatment table.”

Chronic pain is such a complex creature. It is a large part of your life, but it is not your life. It is a big part of you, but it is not who you are. Living within those paradoxical realities is challenging, perhaps as challenging as figuring out the physical bits and pieces of it–the medicines and the food allergies and the exercise and sleep needs and all the more attainable nuts and bolt-ness of it all.

I’ve wanted to write something about this for while. Something like Nicholas Wolterstorff’s Lament of a Son which not a self-help book, but the author’s story about the death of his son. The telling itself though, is helpful. The telling itself is the companionship for the journey.

In the beautiful children’s book Frida, the author says “she turned her pain into something beautiful.” I’d like to do that. I’d like to tell true things – stories that are also helpful.

I don’t know why I always leap to the idea of a book, when clearly articles and essays are my most natural length. (I just get so distracted by sparkly things, and without a real deadline I skip from project to project. This is not a boon to my agent.) At any rate, maybe an article would be more reasonable here….maybe something for The Sun. I have a couple little bits that might turn into something. This one for instance, or this artsy bit here, or here. Or maybe these more practical stories. And then there is what I wrote this morning, based on an image that came to me while I was doing Shavasana on the living room floor:

I offer this pain to you on a gilt platter.
No, held aloft in a silver bowl.
I give it to you coiled, or swirling and boiling.
A dark depth. An oily surface.

What will you do then,
with this pain that drains from the trinity of my eyes and the bridge of my nose?
What will you make of this dark offering?

Play us out Sister Alanis.

There’s nothing like New Year’s Eve to bring out a bunch of resolutions. Because I’ve been unwell since 2003 (migrianes), my resolutions over the past few years have centered around this idea: “Feel Better.”

Maybe one of these books will help you find a feel better place in 2008. Here’s to the hopeful!

-Rachelle

P.s. Remember, any purchase made by clicking on a title below helps support this blog. Find more great book, music, and misc. reccomendations over at Magpie Suggests. Thank you!

Intuitive Eating
Evelyn Trioble and Elyse Resch

How many diet books have you read in your life time? I think my list starts with my mother’s copy of More of Jesus, Less of Me –which I copped from my Mom when I was in 8th grade — and continues through The WeighDown Workshop, 8 Minutes in the Morning, You, on a Diet, The Maker’s Diet, and The Fat Flush Diet — some of which have only recently left the shelves of my personal library.

Last year after a failed attempt at Weight Watchers, I hit my 38th birthday and decided that I’d spent enough of my life obsessing about my weight/body/what I ate. At the ripe old age of 38, I gave up dieting for good and decided to start loving my body.(I’m a slow learner.) The catalyst? Intuitive Eating.

This is book that must be consumed slowly, so you can unlearn old habits and adopt intutivley helpful ways of thinking about food and nutrition. The assingnments take time, but are well worth the resulting mental and emotional reprogramming. For the first time I am eating when I’m hungry, stopping when I’m full, and balancing out at a size my body is comfortable with. Within weeks of begining Intuitive Eating, I stopped feeling guilty about food ,and now I can eat anything guilt free. For the first time this year, I didn’t even THINK of making a resolution that involved losing weight! It’s a small miracle.

P.s. If you are stocking your bookshelves on the topic, Women I Respect have also recommended Eating Mindfully and Slow Food Revolution: A New Culture for Eating and Living. Check ‘em out!

Heal Your Headache: The 1-2-3 Program for Taking Charge of Your Pain
Dr. David Buchholz

When my husband handed me this book in our local shop, I pretty much rolled my eyes and sighed in defeat. After years of tyring everything under the sun to get rid of my migraines, I had pretty much resolved to live with pain for the rest of my life. I thought I knew everything there was to know about migraines and migraine meds — but after just a few pages of Heal Your Headache I’d discovered things none of my dozen-odd medical practioners had ever told me. Intially I was terrified of step one, getting off pain medications and most other meds. But within six weeks I was no longer dependent on pain meds or meds like immitrex, and I had discovered hidden trigger foods that no one had mentioned to me before. My migraines dropped from everyday, to 2-7 per month. After getting them down to this more manageable level, a good atlas chiropractor (we like to call him “Dr. Woo Woo”) got rid of the rest of my headache pain and desensitized me from most of my trigger foods. Now I only have the occasional break through headache — and this after five solid years of headache pain! Believe me, this book is worth taking a chance on!

What books help you Feel Better?

Next Week: books for the Budding Feminist.

Some people are born finishers. They sew together the sweater pieces they’ve knitted, send their edited articles into magazines, and actually take their packages to the post office. Yes, some people are finishers.

But we don’t have to like them.

Thankfully this last creativity challenge got me moving and I finished some projects. I finished my second embroidered kid’s jacket, and for the first time I knitted something for myself – this pretty lacey scarf made out of Kid-Lin.

In spite of these finishes, the last few days have been slow and frustrating for me. I had four days of bad migraines, followed by one blissful pain-free day which left me in a state of mania as I tried to get a backlog of stuff done. Then the migraine came back so badly that I had to take every med in my arsenal and curl up in the fetal position so I wouldn’t start vomiting and end up in the ER. (Nothing keeps you from getting sick like the idea of spending the wee hours of the night in the ER.) Today Paul and I are both sick with head colds, and tomorrow I’ll spend most of the day freezing my scalp muscles at the neurologist. Then we leave mid-week for Texas and when we return the kids get out of school at noon for ten days. Sigh. On weeks like this I feel like I never finish anything. How’s a person supposed to work?

That’s when it’s helpful for Paul to sit me down and tell me everything I actually got done. This week’s list included cleaning most of the house, folding five baskets of laundry, making it to the post office, buying the dog his special food and shampoo, and making up some shrine kits for etsy. I also pulled apart the hat I finished knitting because it didn’t fit, and I’ve got it about half way knit again.

Because of the migraines, I didn’t get the next chapter of my manuscript written, which is my biggest disappointment. Nor did I clean out the kid’s room for the move, which is stressing me out considerably. Still, not bad for a ‘sick’ week.

What do you do when your time seems to get sucked away by “other “ stuff? What do you decide to finish..and how do you talk to yourself about your accomplishments–or lack thereof? Advice for the poor of finishing, please!

Well my pretties, no review today due to a bad bad migraine. Here’s what I’ve got on my bedside table though, if you want to snoop around:
(click on the pic to order)

(fictionalized account of the first First Lady, Mary Todd Lincoln)

(more historical fiction about a can-do Boston gal during the WWI, clevery written by the author of The Bee Season)

(sent to me by Ragamuffin Diva…I haven’t finished it yet, but I like how the main character re-writes the lives of the saints…sort of like my saints and sinners collection!)

Hope one of these tickles your fancy. In the meantime…maybe someone should make a “no headache juju” shrine for me!

Cate’s summer knees on brilliant display.

There is a part of me that misses preaching, and another slice of my persona that desprately wants to be this guy. So here’s a little bit of both captured in my very first podacst — it’s me reading my latest blog post. It mentions a couple of things you can link to like Tweet and this charming get away.

Coulon Beach EssayPodcast

It’s Thursday and one of the last lovely days of camp, wherein my children are gone from my care for a whopping six hours a day. This means that I can skitter off to my studio and try to make heads or tails out of all the ideas, business cards, and dreams that have infiltrated my being since BlogHer ‘07. Sadly, today I am waylaid by yet another day of killer untreatable migraines. (Day 3 of level 7 pain.) I worked through the pain the last two days, but I don’t think I’m going to make it today. I’m typing in bed right now with one of those old fashioned ice bags balanced on my head. Ice on your head by 9am is not a good sign. I really hope I’m not complete laid out flat by the time Paul gets home from work. It’s so sucky for him to have to be single parent man night after night.

What makes this round of migraines particularly disheartening is that it is drop dead gorgeous outside – high 70’s/low 80’s with a lovely little breeze and sun as far as the eye can see. We’ve been waiting all Summer for this kind of weather, and where am I when it hits? Behind the shades in my attic bedroom wrapped in ice and darkness. Ugh.

Well, the least I can do is jot down the absolutes that have come do me as I’ve let the post-BlogHer idea-fest percolate in my brain:

- I want to be the priestess of special events: weddings, births, coming-of-age, deaths, high holy days, etc. I’d like to make a business of this, and although I already have a master’s degree from a good seminary, I think I may do something like this as well. (Although Jen says I need to do doula and hospice training to heal my inner self from all the trauma of Simeon’s stillbirth and my other two shitty birth experiences. Jen’s attitude is “something healing this way comes.” And mine is, “Yeah….whatever.”)

-I want to get paid to write about these things – though books, articles, and as a paid blogger. (Anyone ready to hire?  )

-I want my writing-and-art-making life to be connected to my spirituality.

In order to make these things a bigger priority, I’ve learned that there are a few things I need to change or do:

-I can’t lead a weekly spirituality group any longer because my energy for spiritual practices is focused on special events, not weekly gatherings…. and because it demands too much of my writing time.

- I do not want to take any ol’ paid blogging gig – only something that has to do with spirituality/soulcare.

Okay, I think those are the big epiphanies. I’ve been all over the map lately, goal-wise, and I feel like I’m starting to regain some focus again. ‘Though I’m sure I’ll remain distracted by sparkly things for some time to come. Oh, and one more idea:

-I want to produce a “small is beautiful” art-zine/guide for small bloggers. (Oooooh! Pretty! And also very soulcare-ish!)

Oh goodie, now the Blue Angels are practicing for their weekend extravaganza by doing fly-bys over my rooftop. How can something be simultaneously so amazing (precision formations! technical skill!) and so depressing (fuel consumption! military recruitment!)?

Well dear ones, do pray for me. Let’s all hope that Jen is right, “something healing this way comes.”

Well dear friends, I’ve discovered that one of my migraine medications is giving me severe rebound headaches. So it’s cold turkey for me the next week or so. (Ouch!)

I know I write about being a pain quite a bit, which I suppose is a bit incongrous for such a cheery little site. But it’s such an amazing and complex challenge to learn how to live with chronic pain. Sometimes you really must press through it and do the work of your day or “Pain” will become your first name. Other times you have to listen to your inner ten-year-old self and just lie down with a cool cloth for awhile and remember that sometimes bed and lame television are the best cure. The hardest thing for me is to determine which of those things to do on any given today.

This morning, I was musing out loud in my kitchen about how to arrange my priorities as both my day and the pain dawned together. I know I’ll only have about 4 hours of function today and I was debating out loud how to spend it. Should I get in my daily walk, or save that hour for other things? Should I clean the house for Jen’s visit, or try to get my zine to the printers? My housemate Sharon, who often feels like Wisdom, said I should “get thee to thy studio.” The house, she says, will always need some sort of cleaning. And Jen? Well, Jen would certainly prefer me in the studio than anywhere else in the world.

So with that wise counsel, it’s off to the studio I go with these pretty red birds in my pocket. Hopefully, by noon or so at least one of these will be used to tie up the first copy of Tweet! a zine for summer. Aren’t they just so sweet? I made them by scanning in a little watercolor bird and printing it on ink jet shrinky dink film. Do you need to get in touch with your inner ten-year-old? I highly recommend watching shrinky dinks curl up in a toaster oven. Delightful!

Every have the feeling that you really ought to just stay in bed?

Today I tried to go to my writers group. I meet with these great women writers twice a month. We catch up on life and review each other’s work, sometimes in unequal proportions, but mostly with the amount of discipline required to really help each other become better writers. Today we were meeting on one of the Christine’s boat (There are three Christines!) for an end-of-the-year potluck. It has been lovely here for nearly a week straight, so the boat seemed like a great idea. Then today dawned grey and drizzly, not rainy exactly, but piddly and wet. Still, the cabin of a boat is nice too, so we gathered our potluck food and started to head out to the marina.

I’ve never been to this marina before and mapquest said it would take 17 minutes, which I totally DID NOT believe. So I gave myself 40 minutes, put my strawberry-rubarb crisp in the car and headed out. Of course, the mapquest directions were long and I got lost, then stuck in bumper to bumper traffic, then lost again. I finally called Christine and got clear directions and told her I was going to be late. At this point it was really storming and the rest of the group had decided to abandon the boat and wait for me in the parking lot before driving to Christine’s house. Okay. Right. Good Plan.

Then I got hit by car, the driver of whom waved merrily at me and then drove away!

Needless to say I did NOT make it to my last writers groups of the summer, and instead returned home to take anti-inflamatories for the whiplash and for the blindng headache that was being inhanced by the lovely group of guys who are jackhammering up my front porch.

Thankfully the meds worked, and the sun came out, and my car is not much damaged.

In light of trying to make the best out of bad days and painful things, I leave you with this beautiful illustration of and from Frida (English Language Edition)“>Frida, a children’s books for all ages. May we all learn to turn our pain into something beautiful. That would indeed be like a miracle.

Shalom,

Rachelle

Okay, so PMS and migraine hit last week and by Thursday I was cussing under my breath, throwing plates at the anger altar, and wondering WHAT ARE ALL THESE PEOPLE ARE DOING IN MY HOUSE?! It’s been a hard week and week-end with a lot of pain, meds, and foggy headedness. Saturday we spent way too much money going to see Pirates of the Caribean III, which was totally disppointed followed by a long day Sunday doing absolutely nothing — just hanging around the house all the grey day, watching bad television and putting all of our CD’s on my Zune. Today is Memorial Day and a third blessed weekend-day when the sun finally broke though! In spite of the ongoing migraine, I put my dog on his leash and walked to my studio. I was grumpy enough to intentionally avoid the sweet developmentally disabled seniors who live in the group home between my house and my studio (they love Sam, Sam doesn’t love them), but shored-up enough by Paul’s willingness to let me spend most of the day away from the kiddos that I got my butt in gear in time to spend 5 blissful hours snipping and transfering and generally making a wonderful mess at my drafting table. I added several pages to the Summertime zine, including this one which confirms that yes, inspite of PMS and patriarchy, I enjoy being a girl. Hope it brings you a smile today.

P.s. A very BIG thank you to my long suffering spouse for his unwavering belief that I should “get thee to thy studio.” Your right Paul, I always DO feel better after I’ve been in the studio!

Much Love and Whimsy,

Rachelle