My Handsome Man

I met Johnson on June 14^th, 2005. He was a funny looking dog. Half basset hound, half lab, and beautiful golden brown eyes. I was newly married and we had been talking and dreaming about a dog. We saw him. We fell in love when he flopped over in the grass with his long ears, short legs, and rub-my-belly grin. We put in our adoption application, nervous about being adequate doggy parents. I was so excited. But I never knew what I was getting myself into.

I never knew that learning to train him would lead me to teaching dog training classes. Those were hours and hours filled with joy. (And a little frustration.)

I never knew that my interest in canine behavior and nutrition would lead me to become a veterinary technician where I met a couple of my very best friends, and my little terrier.

I never knew that when he wouldn’t walk, and I sat next to him on the sidewalk in tears, that chiropractic would be the answer.

I never knew that chiropractic would be my future. That I would have this focus and drive. A purpose that I was unaware of until he showed me one little aspect of what chiropractic is.

I never knew that when my husband and I broke up that Johnson would stay in Madison with him while I came to Davenport. I never knew that I would be without them. I never knew that broken hearts heal or that broken dreams are replaced by larger aspirations.

I never knew that when I received a text from my ex at 9:28 am informing me Johnson was taken to the emergency vet that he wouldn’t come home again. That we wouldn’t have answers as to why he had almost no platelets in order to stop the internal bleeding. That I would receive a phone call from the vet while I was in the school cafeteria and that the tears streaming down my cheeks would be so hot. 

I know that I will never throw balls for him again. I know that I will never bury my face in his neck and smell his stink again. I know that I won’t ever fight him for space on the couch again. It hurts so much to know those things.

And now I know, as I type in tears, that some of the most wonderful and beautiful things in life are those that I never knew.

Called.

Atlas is my favorite :)

I know that I am meant to be a chiropractor, and I know that through chiropractic I will serve humanity.

It sounds so lofty, righteous even, that sometimes I laugh over it. But it’s a fact. I own that truth deep in my heart, in my bones, in each cell, in each molecule, in each atom. And in the stuff that those atoms are made of. And the stuff that stuff is made of. See? I’m a little melodramatic about it all.

But the more I learn, the more I realize how powerful chiropractic is. It’s as simple as getting someone out of pain. That’s powerful. It’s as huge as a person’s vibrational tone within the universe. That’s powerful.

And the more I learn, the more I realize how powerful I am.

But I doubt so much.

Sometimes, I listen to outside voices. I should do a high volume practice. I should be doing screenings. This technique is better. Philosophy is the most important, no wait!, evidence is the most important! Do anything that helps your patient. Don’t mix. A kind heart will get taken advantage of.

Sometimes, I listen to inside voices. I’m not smart enough. I don’t read enough. I don’t know my anatomy well enough. I’m fat. I'm ugly.  I’m not intuitive enough. Why can’t I feel that? I'm wrong. I’ll never get this!  I should relax. Don't ever let up.

Sometimes, I listen to the universe. That’s when I hear the truth. The truth is, it’s okay to be quiet about my philosophy. It’s there and it’s strong. It’s okay to not know just how I will do a not-for-profit practice. It will happen.  It’s okay to feel alone and doubtful. My heart and my determination are right where they need to be- the details will fall into place.

So many things in life I roll my eyes at, shrug my shoulders to, or laugh off. But I take this journey so seriously. I keep walls up and people out for fear that I’ll get off track. Then I’m upset because I feel alone. I don’t tell the whole truth for fear that I’ll get talked out of my dreams. Then I’m upset because I’m misunderstood.  And I wonder why I struggle and fight to be big when others seem to be so content in mediocrity.  

(It’s scary and it’s lonely and it’s hard.)

But, even in the mist of my doubts, I trust my place within the universe. This is what I am meant to do and to be. I am certain in my calling and in my aspiration.

I’m really lucky that way.

Sacrifice

My church is doing a series on Gandhi’s Seven Social Sins. This week covered “Religion Without Sacrifice”.  Sacrifice is giving up something of value. Its opposite is holding onto something. The result of religion without sacrifice? Life without integrity.

That struck a chord. I don’t have a problem giving of myself. I’m not overly attached to money or material objects. Sacrifice isn’t something I thought I struggled with. But I do like to hold onto certain things. Mistakes I’ve made. Unreasonable expectations of myself. I keep old wounds close at hand so they can be easily revisited. Then, I build up walls to protect myself and safeguard my things. I’ve gotten in the habit of living this way.

It’s comfortable.

But I’ve started noticing that hoarding such things is preventing me from living the life I claim I want. It’s preventing me from living with integrity. It’s preventing me from being the person I know I am meant to be.

I no longer question if I can be big. I will be. I will make a difference in the lives of my patients. I will serve my community. I will contribute to the art, science, and philosophy of chiropractic. But to continue working towards this bigness, I need to live with integrity and honesty within my own self. That’s going to get uncomfortable.

But it’s not about me and my comfort. It’s about service. It’s about fulfilling my potential. Anything less would be a lie.

 Dictionary.com defines sacrifice as “the surrender or destruction of something prized or desirable for the sake of something considered as having a higher or more pressing claim.”

This is pressing. There is a higher claim. To be big… to follow my path… to have faith in my journey… Sacrifices will have to be made.

I Heart Wisconsin

I <3 Wisconsin.

I believe that happiness is a choice. I believe that gratitude and love are the keys to putting that choice into action. But I might be way too hard on myself.

Walker won Wisconsin.

My mom cried.

What did I do? I tried to talk her out of it. I tried to tell her that we can’t know the bigger picture and that things will work out. The universe will provide. She will be okay. My sister’s health insurance will be okay. Gay rights will be okay. Reproductive rights will be okay. And the fact that outside interests can buy an election in the state that I love will be okay. Then I went outside to cry where no one would see what a big hypocrite I am.

And today I’m punishing myself for being upset when what I should be is grateful that we have the right to vote. I should love thy neighbor, even thy Walker voting neighbor. I should trust that the universe will provide. I should remember the world is bigger and more complex than I can possibly understand.

I read Tolle, Strand, and Dyer and want to live by their messages. I am awed by humans like Jesus, Gandhi, and the Buddha. So I set goals for myself that focus on love, forgiveness, honesty, gratitude, and trust.

I aim for graciousness to the point I am disgusted with myself for ever wanting. I can’t forgive myself when I can’t let something go.  I hate myself when I struggle to love others. I am honest in so many arenas, but lie about some of the most basic aspects of myself.

I am human. I was created perfectly and am loved completely. So maybe it’s okay to cry sometimes? Maybe I need to love myself as well? Forgive myself? And if I could trust myself as well as the universe…

These are all great aspirations. Now the hard part is to not to be so hard on myself.

Liar Liar

The people that are closest to us have the ability to hurt us the most. They know what to say, they know where to poke, they know how to best salt a wound. That sucks.

But, so much worse than that, is when we are our own worst enemy. The things the outside world says and does can hurt, but the things we tell ourselves can be so much worse. When it comes to talking to me, I’m a big liar.

Lie #1: I am fat and ugly.

Lie #2: That mean note I wrote to Jennifer in middle school makes me a bad person for the rest of my life.

Lie #3: A box on the wall chiropractic practice will never work.

Lie #4: If it’s hard and scary I should just give up.

Lie #5:  I’m a huge failure because I couldn’t keep my marriage together.

Lie #6: I will just make the same mistakes over and over again.

Lie #7: What other people think matters.

Lie #8: I’m not smart enough.

Lie #9: I’m too little to be big.

Lie #10: I am anything less than love.

I’m not sure how to work with this. I know that identifying these as lies is a step in the right direction… And I know everyone speaks to themselves in damaging ways.  So how to stop? I’m not sure.

I am sure of many truths about myself. Is it a matter of the truths out weighing the lies? Or is there a way to really stop lying to ourselves?

I do know that I’m learning from my mistakes. I’m working every day at being big. And I know in my heart that I am love. Those are important truths.

Box on the Wall

Almost a year ago I was talking with a friend in the library about accepting insurance as a chiropractor. I’m not a fan of insurance and I’d rather not have it be part of my practice. But that leaves me with the issue of affordability. Her answer to my concerns? A box on the wall.

The seed was planted… and left alone as I listened to what other chiropractors were doing and why. Chiropractors have their reasons for accepting insurance; they have their reasons for a cash only practice. They have their reasons for signing up a patient for a yearlong care plan; they have their reasons for not. And all the while I feel a terrible unease about the disparity in health care access along socioeconomic lines.

Then last week in philosophy club “box on the wall” was brought up as a measure of the value patients place on chiropractic and the care they are receiving. It was argued that if patients are educated in what chiropractic is and are seeing results in their life then they will be willing to compensate the doctor appropriately. And the seed sprouted.

In that moment I decided to go for it. Will I be able to pay my rent? My student loans? Dr. Wayne Dyer says, “Don’t ever let money be a reason you don’t fulfill your destiny.” And when I told a professor of my decision he told me to be prepared to get paid in pies sometimes. As if I needed any more convincing.

Bartering would only make me more connected to the larger community. And a box on the wall would allow people to pay it forward (or backwards). It would allow others to pay as they are able. And yes, there will be people that take advantage of it. But it’s not about that.

If I have a problem with the disparity in health care along socioeconomic lines, if I want to be more fully incorporated into the community, if I believe that the universe will provide, if I live congruently… Then I will put a box up on the wall and allow each person I serve to value chiropractic.

As Dr. Joe Strauss put it, "Basically the use of this system has nothing to do with the character, the honesty, or the commitment of the patient. It depends upon the character and the love for humanity of the chiropractor."

Wrong

It’s almost Valentine’s Day and it’s the second anniversary of the big bad sad breakup. There was a person I thought I would spend the rest of my life with, have dogs and children with, cry and laugh with. But I’m not.

That’s an odd thing. To be so very wrong about something that I felt so good about. And it makes me question myself.   Did I do the right thing leaving? Can I be a big girl and move out west all by myself?  Will I ever fall in love again? And if I do… how will I know I’m not wrong again?

I can’t help but look back on what we had. We had three dogs and a lot of fun together. We spent one winter cutting out pictures of our family, friends, and pets, gluing them to popsicle sticks, and putting on little plays with them. We spent our nights fighting the dogs for space in the bed. We were happy. We were in love. So where did we go wrong?

 We had a lot, but we also had different goals. And we wanted different things. Different lives. And at some point you have to compromise, or you have to part ways.

I’m really happy with the life I’m building and the person I’m becoming. I’m doing big, good things.  I’m working at living consciously and with purpose. I choose this life and I’m proud of myself for taking steps towards my goals and not taking anything for granted. How can that be wrong?

But how could it be right to leave someone who played Popsicle Pals with me? Just because you love someone, and even when they’re your best friend, it doesn’t mean that you can be successful building a life together. And that’s sad. And there are pieces of that life that I miss. But it just wasn't right.

So I make plans about what I want for my life. Where I want to go and who I want to be. I try focus on being a great chiropractor and a good person. I know I’ll do big things and the crooked path I'm taking is the right one.

But, then again, I could be wrong.

Grateful

Ok, I probably don’t need to be spending time blogging this week because I have 1000 things to do for school… But I feel the need to stop and be grateful. When I came home tonight, after a long day which was made longer by getting anxious about the rest of the week, I looked around my mess and it struck me how grateful I am to have this life.

I am grateful for:

·         My dog. Best roommate ever.

·         My bike- hours and miles and friends.

·         Blair chiropractic and the light it’s turned on in me.

·         NPR. I love the news, and the political coverage, and Ira Glass, and the stories about things that I didn’t even know that I didn’t know.

·         Ella Fitzgerald.

·         Old running shirts from my grandpa. As far as I’m concerned, they’re the very essence of him.

·         The 100 crushes I have on 100 different people for 100 different reasons and my single, free, anything’s possible reality.

·         Finding new ways to connect (like yoga).

·         The people that love me.

·         Being proved wrong when I doubt that things will work out or that the universe will provide.

I can’t even come up with negatives or sarcastic remarks. They’re there. They’ll pop up tomorrow when I realize I spent last night blogging instead of studying heart murmurs and gallops. But tonight I’ll pause and know that I am so lucky that an exam on the lungs and heart is one of my most immediate concerns.

Although tomorrow I will be freaking out! 

Finding this picture online counts as studying, right?

Me in Italics

Recently, my mom was in an accident. It wasn't life threatening, but still pretty serious. I dropped everything to go be with her in the hospital. I know how I would have treated a friend in my situation, and I was surprised to be disappointed by some of my friends. It would have been nice if people would have let me know that they were thinking of me, that they supported me in this stressful time, blah, blah, blah.

  

Honestly, I’m a little bitter about the whole thing. I’m struggling to not make passive aggressive comments to people. Don’t they realize my mom has this habit of almost dying on me and how I got no sleep and now I have all this make up work to do?

My reaction comes from a me centered view. The world doesn’t owe me anything and it’s not about keeping score. And relationships aren’t always 100% reciprocal. That’s okay. But it’s not productive to carry around bitterness.  

I try to be a giving and loving person. I think it’s important to be grateful. One of my goals is to love the people I come in contact with. I want to live a life of serving others and treating people well.

So, my actions should remain the same. I should still strive to be loving and giving. I am still grateful. I am here to serve others. Happiness won’t come from being bitter (although there is a certain satisfaction in it). Because, really, it’s not about me.            

  "In a nutshell, when life is pleasant, think of others. When life is a burden, think of others. If this is the only training we remember to do, it will benefit us tremendously and everyone else as well."

  -Pema Chodron

Except this blog. This blog is totally about me.

My Mom

My mom drives me nuts. She’s totally annoying and totally awkward. I turn into a 13 year old girl around her and am completely embarrassed by everything she does. I see things in me that remind me of her and it scares the crap out of me. Turning into her is one of my few legitimate fears.

My brother understands. He is the only person on this earth who is allowed to agree with me. It’s one of the reasons he and I are so close. No one else was raised by her. If I’m frustrated and on the verge of tears, no one else can give me a sideways look and raise his eyebrows and make me laugh about her. No one else gets my impressions of her.

I know I am really lucky to have the friends in my life that I do. I am really lucky to have the mentors that I do. I am really lucky to be growing into a person that I am proud of. But I would have nothing if I didn’t have the mom that I do.

She says the wrong things when I’m upset. Her hair is always a mess. She makes little comments about my weight. She forgives me when I say the wrong things. She tells me how beautiful I am (and the hair I inherited from her). She radiates with smiles when I walk into the room.

My mom is amazing and believes in me like no one else. There have been decisions I’ve made that only she has understood and supported. I can talk to her about anything and know I will always receive love in return. I see a lot of her in me (and my brother loves pointing this out). But she’s my mom, and I love her, and if I’m going to turn out like anyone… well, I guess I'm glad it's her.

Oh, and she laughs at my impressions of her.

Messy

My messy apartment.

I am messy. My ex was not messy. Not messy is the nice way of putting it. And when I would make a mess (which was often), I would get scolded. It made me feel like a bad person, like the very core of me was flawed and wrong.

In retrospect, it astonishes me how many tears were shed over something as trivial as not immediately picking up after myself. I mean, really, who cares? How could I place my own self-worth in the hands of someone who judged me on my ability to keep the house straightened up?

Don’t get me wrong. It was a good relationship in a lot of ways. And the cleanliness of the house was one of the few things we fought about. But, unfortunately, even the good things I believed about myself I believed because he said so. I didn’t recognize how smart, or funny, or giving, or loving I was on my own; I recognized and appreciated those qualities about myself because he appreciated those qualities in me.

I let someone else’s values and beliefs dictate how I felt about myself.  Allowing him to influence not only my actions, but my feelings about myself really came down to not trusting myself. What he had to say about me was more important than what I had to say about me.

Trusting yourself comes down to believing that your thoughts and goals are valid and worth realizing. And I still struggle to believe myself. I know that I am meant to be a chiropractor…right? I know that my playfulness and humor are a couple of my strongest qualities… aren’t they? I know that I am worthy of love and respect… don’t you agree?

So 2012 will be about me trusting me.  I know that I know what is right for me. I like my ears gauged, even if some friends find it unattractive. I know chiropractic works, even if my dad doubts it. My goofiness is one of my strengths, although I’ve been labeled immature.  I’m going to make mistakes and stumble. I‘m going to collect a few more scars. My life is messy, but I’m going to trust myself to live it.

I'm a little bit in love with Ron Paul.

I’m a bit little obsessed with the Iowa Caucus.  I can’t get enough of hearing about the candidates on NPR and CNN (now there’s two different approaches to reporting the news). And…  I’m a little bit in love with Ron Paul.

I’m no Republican. I disagree with him on most of the issues. But I appreciate his stand on personal freedom. He’s interested in preserving the constitution.  He also has this charisma I’m completely attracted to. But what I love most about him is his congruity, his consistency, and his integrity. I am so impressed with the way he takes a stand based on his values. He isn’t influenced by lobbyists and he doesn’t flip flop.

That’s so rare to see in real life, much less in a politician. Those qualities- congruity, consistency, integrity- are qualities I look to emulate. A little charisma wouldn’t hurt me either.

I can’t vote for him. But I can admire him and practice those qualities in my life. And I’m definitely going to be a little bit in love with him.

Resolutions

I love that the New Year is a chance to decide how you want the upcoming year to go. Kind of like how at the beginning of every new semester you have big plans of not procrastinating this semester. I’m generally more successful with my New Year’s resolutions.

 2011 was the best year of my life. I gained my footing in school and don’t let it stress me out as much now as it used to. I changed my last name back to my maiden name and am feeling more like myself again. I moved into a great apartment where I’m settled and am in love my own little space in this world. And I inherited some fish from my old neighbor- those guys are just fun to watch while lying in bed.

I’m not even going to go into how 2011 was hard and stressful except to say that I’ve been forced to be honest with myself and grow. So it all comes back to being a great year.

I’m resolving now- in this public forum (eek!)- to make 2012 even better. How could it possibly be better, you ask? Well, here’s what I have in mind:

• Love and respect my body.
• Enjoy what I’m learning in school.
• Read more.
• Write.
• Make new friends.
• Vacuum more.
• Get involved with the Unitarian church in town.
• Smile at strangers.
• Teach my dog some fun new tricks.
• Host dance parties.
• Floss. 
• Be grateful.

I’m looking forward to reporting back about how successful I am and about how to make 2013 even better.

Happy New Year.