Deb Erikson
This really fits on
the helpful hints page, but it was my favorite, so it gets it's own page!
RITUALS
I find a certain amount of ritual very comforting. For example, each
night I take a bath with wondrous smelling salts. I look forward to this
moment each day. I even find myself getting excited in the evening, when
I'm about ready to sink into the bath. First I fill the bath with very
hot water and bath salts. Then I put on my favorite music, very loud. It's
kind of funky eclectic music, but sounds exactly like I feel. (Greg Brown's
In the Dark With You album - Funky Day was my bath time cut). I take
this bath every night, even on the worst days of chemo, when very little normalcy
existed in my life. This bath, this beautiful ritual, is one small part
of a regular normal day that occurs irregardless of anything else. That
is comforting when most of my regular and normal activities have been shaken
up and thrown around randomly by this creature called cancer. Also, it's
the last thing I do before I go to bed, so I always enter my bed and fall asleep
feeling spiritually grounded and relaxed. I feel powerful.
The interesting part of this whole ritual is that I never did this before now. In
my former life, I took quick showers at the end of each day, never a bath,
let alone one that used pampering salts. This is an amusing metaphor
for my life. When I look clearly, I have to admit that I did not do pleasing
things for myself. I was a very goal-oriented person and just taking
a bath for the pure pleasure of it was not a part of my life. I was more
likely to do something 'relaxing' in a focused manner, such as practicing yoga. Even
in my relaxing, I was working on a goal. I stumbled into this bath ritual
because my legs were aching and found that I just started doing it every night
without even planning it. Now I treasure each time I do something without
planning. It's a celebration of living in the present moment.

Cancer
Dance Links
Now open your journal
and list everything that you can imagine being a daily occurrence that
makes you feel good. Think about your day. Look closely for
the little things you haven't noticed. Find moments scattered throughout
your day. Some of your days might seem endless in the fog of chemo. These
small moments of celebration help define the points of the day so it
has some shape and some meaning. Observe yourself and those around
you. Watch for these practices. Learn to see them as gifts. Steal
good ones from your friends. Try them on for size and see if they
fit you. I always wanted to adopt the tea drinking ritual, but
find it just doesn't fit me. Is a friend of yours doing something
you've thought would be pleasing? While I was spending the weekend
baby-sitting for a friend she suggested I take a bath with her bath salts.
I did, and it was great. But I never thought about doing it at
my house. It took a great deal of chemo-induced leg pain to jolt
my mind into giving myself this gift of a salt bath. I am learning
to give myself these simple gifts many times every day.
I hope I am changing my life. I am learning to include spontaneous moments
that make me happy. I don't have to do anything to earn them. I
don't have to postpone them to a "more appropriate time." I
don't have to get anyone's approval. I don't have to rationalize or
explain them to anyone. I deserve and do them right now. I enjoy
them. I am writing this in my "after bath glow." It is
a time of day when I feel that anything is possible. That's because anything
IS possible. It just took me a long time to realize it.
Find some rituals
for yourself that makes you feel good. Drinking a cup of hot tea
while watching the sun come up each morning is a good ceremony
to begin your day. Don't get too involved in planning your rituals. They
lose their joy with great organization and planning. They may become
forced, or worse yet, become a goal. Just notice what you are
doing, that feels good, and continue to do it. You might find that
you already have a few habits working for you.
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