It's good to be back....

So....my dear, poor neglected blog. I am back to populate you with words & thoughts and show you a little love. You're a little droopy and forlorn, but we'll get you back in shape in no time.
Yeah, I've been absent. 2013 wrapped wretchedly; my father passed in the wee hours of September 9th of Myelofibrosis with myself, my sister and my mother at his side. It was difficult, as death is, but not unexpected. My own grief took a long time to grapple with, but as someone who does process work for a living, I continually do my own work as well.

The grief counseling I did prior to my father's passing, and the grief counseling I did following it--as well as regular attendance at the Kaiser Hospice Bereavement Group helped me enormously. There is real comfort in being with a group of people who know and understand loss.

Unfortunately, a week and a half after the memorial service, just as I was preparing to resume my life as a Higher Education coach at InsideTrack, my mother's heart went into A-fib and threw off a clot which lodged in her upper left thigh, resulting in a transfemoral (above-knee) amputation of her left leg.

To say I was in shock was an understatement. Perhaps at some point I will publish the personal essay I composed about that whole transitional period of my life.

Long story short, my mother has exceptional coping skills, has done a lot of work on herself, and is incredibly resilient. Today, after months in a rehabilitative skilled nursing facility, she is back at home, has a prosthetic, and recently walked up and down a 24-stair flight (required by her physical therapist, who doesn't take no for an answer). She is just as poised and elegant and put together as she was prior to losing her leg. And she laughs when she's referred to as a gimp.

We have all adjusted. Life throws you curveballs, and either you acknowledge 'em, or get pretty brutally slammed in the face. Or both. But life doesn't stop when stuff happens. It really is what we do with it all that counts.
And of course, recovery tools were my friend during all this--the slogan, "One Day at a Time" has never been more pertinent.
So I'm back, my blog is back, and just because my cats were such a comfort to me during all that loss and transition, I'm including a picture of them here, lounging on their various trees (Abby is the big girl, Audrey is staring into the camera).
Yeah. It's good to be back.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes......

My goodness, it's been a while. No two ways about it.

The last time I posted was just prior to my accepting a full-time Executive Coaching gig with Inside Track here in Portland on April 30th, 2012--nearly 10 months ago!

Many things have changed since then. Professionally, I moved from coaching students with DeVry Online to coaching students with Cal State Online (the new online initiative for Cal State University students--very exciting!) On a personal note, I moved into a new living space in December--not my preferred month to move, for obvious reasons, but I've moved enough to know that you gotta strike when the opportunity presents itself when a new place comes up that suits your personal criteria. There's a story here.

As a coach, I'm lucky to be equipped with a personal toolbox that enables me to "self-coach" as necessary. I'd wanted to move for quite some time, but the momentum simply wasn't there. So I did a values assessment and got very clear on what the most important top 3 criteria in a new space would be for me; the ability to walk to work was basically number one (cat-friendly & wood floors, as well as non-smoking, were right up there, too).

As soon as I had that personal "Aha!," I found a place that afforded me a lovely, relaxing, centering 35-minute walk to work in the morning (and, as it stays lighter longer, in the early evening, as well). It fell into place very swiftly and easily. Clarifying our values really does charge up our momentum and enable us to gain a LOT of clarity & understanding about the direction we should be heading.

Also on the personal front, I've been supporting my sister and mother as they are the primary caregivers for my father, who is managing Myelofibrosis, a rather nasty/energy-sapping chronic form of Leukemia that involves a lot of hospital trips for transfusions. This is where my (12-step) program comes in handy--in the face of a chronic cancer, all we are truly able to do is take things One Day at a Time.

I've had to be conscious of my own self-care in the midst of so much transition, which involves (yes) those morning walks, enough sleep, acupuncture, and cooking healthfully, as well as my own process work for grief issues when they come up.  And I love holiday goodies and indulged this past season with gusto, understanding intrinsically that it's a moment in time and a celebration that feels good to participate in (and no, I am not one to turn down the gift of Greek Butter Cookies when a friend gives me a homemade box of them!) BUT I do begin feeling the effects of so much toothsomeness, so returning to my vegan/vegetarian home-cooked meals (with very little sugar) has been the best resolution for returning to functional normalcy. The better diet also helps those little pings and pangs that come along with being 47 and starting to feel the (really weird) effects of (sigh!) perimenopause.

At this point, I'm mostly moved in, the cats are enjoying my new futon sofa (or should I say, "THEIR" futon sofa!), it's a sunny but chilly January Monday (MLK Day & Obama's inaugural), and a good day to catch you all up on my months-long quietness.

I hope your holidays were lovely and peaceful, and that you set some great GOALS for the New Year!

See you in February. Stay warm. Peace.

~Caitlin, Embody Life Coaching

Into the Great Unknown, One Step at a Time

The Only Constant in Life is Change. --Attributable to numerous authors

Last time I posted, I'd recently left my day job with a large company and was preparing for a life (for the immediate foreseeable future) of no schedules, no steady paycheck, and lots ofunknowns. I'm still creating my daily structure, keeping to a fairly tight budget, and taking my days one at a time, staying in the present as much as possible.

It's no secret that I'm in Recovery; the benefits of concurrently working a recovery program along with the coaching are mentioned on my website, and I'm also very forthcoming about the fact I've been in Al-Anon for nearly 6 years, and have benefitted greatly from the fellowship and the application of the tools in my own life (yes, I do my own process work/emotional self-care/psychic maintenance! It improves my outlook and makes me a better Life Coach!)

Shortly after having composed that last Blog entry, however, my life has taken an even greater--unforeseen, unexpected--turn; my father--who will turn 80 on October 1st--was diagnosed with Myelofibrosis, a type of chronic Leukemia. Not a lot is known about Myelofibrosis, since it's relatively rare (which is a good thing), but the symptoms can be brutal, and vary with each patient. One consistency among sufferers is that it can be a roller-coaster, and it's definitely already been a roller-coaster for sure--he went along for a while without too much to report until he was admitted to the hospital for a week with sores on his swollen legs, one of numerous very weird/alarming symptoms of this also weird/alarming disease.

I'm worried about my father, naturally; I am also newly wrapping my brain around the very real fact that cancer has now touched our family, and up until this time, we've all been relatively healthy and affliction-free (knock on wood!)

My parents live down in the SF/Bay Area and I am up here in Portland, Oregon, and the geographical distance makes things harder because family members tend to feel a sense of helplessness when faced with chronic illnesses such as cancer--and geographical distance often exacerbates such feelings. It has for me; hearing "news about dad" second-hand and not being able to physically offer support or see with my own two eyes how the disease has transformed him has been troubling.

So how am I coping with this latest "unknown?" I've upped my self-care exponentially. First, I researched Leukemia, came across the Leukemia/Lymphoma Society (whose local chapter is located within walking distance of where I live in Portland, in fact) and began attending their monthly support groups for general blood cancers, which was a comfort; although I was the only non-ill family member in attendance, hearing the perspectives of the other attendees was very helpful to me.

I also began working with a therapist, specifically, because I noticed I was developing ongoing symptoms of depression that needed to be addressed, such as sleeplessness, weepiness, headaches, lethargy, etc., and felt that a therapeutic approach was necessary in this case (as opposed to life coaching, which is a very different process).

And, of course, I've been mindful of my Recovery program; it's a comfort putting myself in Al-Anon meetings, hearing the shares, and "taking what I want and leaving the rest," as we like to say. And more often than not, the shares are exactly relevant to my head space in that moment, and a gentle/humbling reminder that life presents challenges to every one of us in different ways that are no less vexing than what I'm currently facing.

Other self-care rituals involve camping and hiking (the biorhythm of the outdoors is very calming to me), seeing funny & engaging movies (laughter is amazing medicine!), attending church more often, taking long walks, communing with my two cats (petting silky cat fur is instantly soothing--not to mention, they're great objective listeners!), talking to trusted friends, and calling my family much more often; hearing my father's voice--and sharing my concerns, fears and feelings with the rest of the family--is also invaluable.

Yes, life throws us curve balls--even when we may feel like we already have enough on our plates to manage; that's how it goes sometimes. The best thing we can do is center, seek appropriate support (all different kinds), let our authentic feelings surface and honor them all, up our self-care tremendously (yes, FUN is a necessary piece of that!) and stay in the present moment as much as possible.

And, as another Recovery slogan reminds us, "This, too shall pass."

What does your self-care look like?

##

Spring Ahead

"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom." ~Anais Nin

This Spring has so far been about change. Lots of change.

I am releasing a friendship that has slowly become toxic; I had plans to move from one living space to another. And the day job I'm in just moved their offices from one (more convenient) location to another (less convenient) which, in most circumstances, would not be that big of a deal, except for the fact that I live without a car. The former location was a two-bus commute; the new location is a three-bus commute.After more than three years in a temporary contract that was only supposed to last two weeks, I believe this is the Universe' unmistakable way of nudging me out of my complacency and into the next leg of my journey.

This day job has been, for the most part, good to me. The regular income helped support me as I completed my Life Coach Certification training, and the flexibility enabled me to meet with clients as I began building my Coaching business, for which I am grateful. Although I'd been offered a permanent position with the company, it did not align with my values, and while flattered, it was necessary to decline.

So we packed our things and moved, and when the dust settled, I made my intentions for departure known.

It did not come as a surprise; my goals are beyond and outside the walls of that company, and my coworkers were all aware of that.

And there are signs--like the burgeoning Spring itself, with its new blossoms and teasing sun breaks--that the economy is slowly turning itself around.

And the timing of this move, this Universal nudge, and my impending departure--during the Spring, and right before Easter and Passover, significant holidays representing freedom, renewal, resurrection--seemed also significant.

So when I made my decision to leave and discussed my intentions with my contracting agency (who asked, "When is your contract up?" to which I replied, "Three years ago...") I felt terribly happy and remarkably at peace when I hung up the phone.

And I would be lying if I said I didn't also begin to feel the stirrings of fear, which are a normal part of the mix when ditching the relative comforts of the status quo and leaping into the unknown--something we will be called on to do in our lives over and over and over. I sat with the fear; I listened to what it had to tell me. I took steps to release it out of my body (acupuncture, long walks, long, soaky baths, recovery meetings, talks with trusted friends).

And I knew that, in spite of the fear, it was time to move forward. To leap. I encourage my clients to honor their fear and leap anyway, acknowledging the forward pull to growth and renewal along their own paths. Growth isn't necessarily easy....but it's always meaningful and stuffed with lessons. And all the messages I'd been receiving pointed to moving right along, including the following Daily Meditation that landed in my email in-box at work:

"God can't hand you anything new until you let go of what you're holding."

Sometimes you know when you are, finally, truly done--with a relationship that has ceased to feed you, with a job that presents more of a hardship to hang on to, with a living space that is a bit too noisy, a bit too close to the freeway, a bit too out-of-the-way.

What will the future bring me? What is ahead for me on my path? What will the new leg of my journey look like? How will that unfold? I don't know. And I'm not supposed to. What I AM supposed to do is "turn it over," as we say in Recovery, to my Higher Power, while I focus on putting one foot in front of the other and continue moving forward on my path. While I focus on "...letting go of what I'm holding."

Just like Daylight Savings, when we set our clocks forward one hour and enjoy longer, brighter days, it's time to "Spring Ahead."

I know that I will be okay. My needs will be met. I've been in Al-Anon 5 years and I have healthier tools for keeping myself grounded, serene, centered, peaceful, and in relationship with my Higher Power. I will be fine.

Time to take the risk--as we all must from time to time in our lives--to blossom.

Year of the Rabbit

2011.

It's a new year (Year of the Rabbit in the Chinese zodiac).

Do you make New Year's resolutions?

I do. Every December, I draft a kind of "to-do" list for the upcoming year and post it where I can see it (the 2011 list is right next to a mirror on the wall in my bedroom; whenever I look in the mirror to dry my hair or apply my make-up in the morning, I see the list and I'm reminded of of my resolutions).

Some of what I've written are ongoing, such as the recovery-based (I work a 12-step Al-Anon program) resolution that states simply, "I will not accept unacceptable behavior." I like being reminded of this fact, and it leaves a lot of room to reflect on what "unacceptable behavior" looks or feels like, and how I might set boundaries around it when I'm on the receiving end of it.

Some are specific objectives, such as "get contact lenses" (I wear glasses--in fact, I wear "progressive" lenses, which are kinda like bifocals but without then line--or the "I'm getting older!" stigma--and which have taken me practically the entire two years I've had them to get used to them!) which I haven't worn since I was a freshman in college many, many years ago--soft lenses, one of which I ended up losing on the tile bathroom floor of my parent's home and never found, thus ending my relationship with something small, round and plastic that was to be worn closely against my iris. Glasses are much harder to lose, and I didn't want to deal with the washing/soaking anymore. Now, I'm a little older, and--I guess--a little more vain. And my sight keeps changing.

And I've cycled through every glasses style I can think of: chunky plastic, sleek frameless, intellectual wire-rimmed "Gandhi" glasses, giganto early-80's biggie plastic mongo frames (they really were), clip-on sunglasses, etc. Time to change it up and revisit--well, something small & plastic against my iris.

Some of my resolutions have to do with reclaiming beloved, thoroughly enjoyable leisure past times/experiences--i.e., "Go to the theater." I love live theater (I have an MFA in theater, after all), and saw a lot of it at the Guthrie in Minneapolis when I used to live there, and at Portland Center Stage when I first lived here in Portland many years ago.

A few other Life Coach friends suggested other very helpful approaches to setting resolutions; one suggested setting a theme for the year, and I really like that approach (Wellness? Relationships?); another suggested expressing our resolutions in the present tense, as if they're already happening--i.e., "I am seeing more theater," or "I am running 5 miles a day."

These are a few approaches to setting an intention--our resolutions--for the New Year. Journaling and Vision Boards (if you're visually-oriented/creative and like SEEING your objectives in front of you) may also be some very helpful approaches to manifesting the changes you want to make/life you want to live.

A final, important resolution for me is to update this blog regularly once a month--so please check back for other updates/topics of interest!

Happy New Year. And if I may ask, what are your resolutions for 2011--this new Year of the Rabbit?