Tuesday, November 25, 2008

the value of my values


So here I am sitting in class, and we are discussing the dynamic of personal values, and how we want to communicate them in our every day life. I am seeing that throughout my life, so many of the values that I have gathered over the years have been a combination of personal intuition and of societal and familial influence. There are a lot of "shoulds" that we receive from our parents.
I feel as though in order to life the richest and fullest life, we must be able to tap into what matters to us at the core. We should (ha, pun intended) take into consideration what things mean to us and not what they mean to us through the eyes of another.
I feel as though we are so good at convincing ourselves that our morals and values come from within, when really if we stand alone from our upbringing and our environment, we will see that our truest importances in this life are different. Through time, I feel like genuine versus not-so-genuine values will really begin to separate...because with each individual, he/she is going to know the feeling when they aren't acting for themselves and will feel that void when they have to question their own behaviors. I have been there for sure. And I know exactly what it is like to have values that aren't mine.
Right now I have a very strong set of values: importance of family, honesty, loyalty, genuineness. But that list has been edited. There were many other values that were tacked on which represented a big part of my life before I became in connection with my own inner persona. And they were: the importance of status, perfection, popularity, success, and money.
I want to share how experiences have allowed me to leave these behind...I do feel like these came from a myriad of influences, but through time and suffering, these somehow got left behind. With my past relationship with cheating through school, that final awareness of how my actions and behaviors were not only shattering me but the people around me, I realized that status just wasn't worth it. All of a sudden I didn't need to be the best, because the road I was taking to get there was painful enough. With perfectionism, through time and maturity, I began to marvel at the human flaw. In high school, I learned that my favorite people weren't the most popular ones, they were the ones who were authentic. They were exactly who they were, and nothing more. And for that, popularity and the need for attention faded. Money isn't a priority, I do want to be successful in my life, but only because it will allow me to do the things that I love and have the richest of experiences.
So here I am, now that I have shed off those values that aren't mine and have finally begun to acquire my own "treasure chest" of what will make me the truest Greer. Discover what your own values are, and not the values for someone else...only the ones for yourself.

Sunday, November 23, 2008

my west side story


So here I am…sitting on the plane coming from Atlanta, GA where I spent the weekend absorbed with wedding fun. My dear friend from high school whom I hadn’t seen in 5 or so years was getting married in my home town and it was a great opportunity for me to see friends who normally don’t fall in my path. Therefore, I was excited. So excited. So through it all, I came to see that many people were doing such interesting things with their lives. And in return, I was asked what I was up to. Now this is a question that I hear on the general about once a week, so I have my little elevator version of “what I’m up to.” And I was talking with one woman in particular who was curious as to how I ended up in Boulder, and ended up in Counseling Psychology.
She initiated the conversation with, “so how is being a nurse?” And I found myself giving a sigh only to communicate to her that nursing was absolutely not what I was up to. So I began with where the two of us had left off. She was aware that I had graduated from nursing school about a year and a half ago, but after that point, things got cloudy. So I told her my truest feelings on my exposure to western medicine, and my pursuit down discovery of new horizons.
So here I am…what happened to get me to where I am today? I spent my undergraduate experience traveling down a road that I was ambivalent about. But seeing as though I wasn’t aware of what it meant to be passionate about a profession, I pressed forward keeping in mind that “school isn’t the job.” And so I graduated with a western impression of health care, which encompassed a myriad of prescription medication, technological advancements, and surgical intervention. Now through my personal experience, I went through significant internal turmoil (like those of you who read this blog didn’t know that) and didn’t feel like I had any substantial outlet to allay my fears and anxieties. Until I graduated and went home. So in a two month intensive with a marriage counselor (that was the only way I was going to agree to go to therapy if I was seeing someone who wasn’t “a professional in my area of need”), my struggles were really brought to the service, and in my mind significant progress was made. And this progress was made only through conversation. No pills. I had been instructed to take the prescription medication route, and yes while it did alleviate the symptoms of my unrest, the root of the problems were not being addressed.
So I moved to Boulder, and in that time, I discovered a program called Naropa. I was a little apprehensive about re-entering into the world of health care in any way because I was dissatisfied on the whole with western practice. And I really only mean this from a mental health standpoint, because frankly our advancement makes life possible. But from a counseling perspective, we have much work to do. Well I did a little bit of research on my program of interest and discovered that this area incorporates both eastern and western medicine in an attempt to communicate that there is a time and a place for both. It is so individual to each client. There is sometimes dire need for medication, so that a person can be given the relief to acknowledge and work through unrest.
But in my mind, we are a band-aid oriented culture. We are so eager to mask a symptom and so craving of being “pain free,” that we are willing to prescribe medicine like its candy.
So here I stand, about to finish my first semester of this Masters in Counseling Psychology, to say that there is no need to have an east versus west where one is better than the other. Lets as humans allow both of them to share the space and show their strengths on their own.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

birthday cheer


Dear Eve,

I know that my birthday card to you is a day late. We both know how much I hate being late, and we both know that you weren't always the greatest about being on time :-) But that all doesn't matter now, because on this day...it is yours. I have been reflecting on our childhood together, our camping trips in the snow, our hikes through the north Georgia mountains with our parents, our partnership on the chess team...the list goes on and on. But there is something else that I want to remember today. Today you are 23. Your spirit is 23.
When we were younger, we did lead lives of innocence and glory. We were infatuated with learning good things and getting our feet dirty. You always taught me the beauty of being interested in the world around us, and you through your own bright eyed wonder allowed me to see that this world is full of so much life and beauty.
But this birthday cheer seems different. This time around I can't give you my card personally and see you respond with that luminous smile and yell, "awwwww Greerie," and you know what...it is okay. For the first time in a long time, that is okay. I can't sit with you now over coffee and discuss the complexity of our thought processes, I won't be able to sit across from you and listen to your detailed analysis of a pretty simple experience. I will miss that, but I'm okay.
And this is the other thing, I know that you are okay. I don't know where you are, but something inside tells me that you are fine. And I feel that every day when I think of you and remember your life. I watched YouTube videos of you for a while yesterday just because I needed to see you alive. You were so precious in your description of the student government offices, and you were so excited to share with everyone what you were going to provide the school.
And that was good for me to see you happy. So that is how I am going to remember you. And on your 23rd birthday, I will light a candle and celebrate. You are my heart darling bird. I love you and miss you.

Happy Birthday

Thursday, November 13, 2008

my cocoon


There are those moments in everyone's life where there is a moment of threat to a person's emotional or physical being. That is not unique. What is unique though is how people handle that feeling of being threatened, and how it manifests. Each person has his or her own cocoon.

A cocoon is a retreat, it is a place of safety and seclusion, and it can take many forms. In class very recently, a teacher asked about animals defense mechanisms when there is a perception of imminent danger. For example there is the turtle who pulls all external limbs and the head inward. There is the porcupine who fans out an array of sharp quills so that nobody will come near. There is the chameleon who blends in with its environment so that i cannot be detected. And the list goes on and on. And even though the manifestation of coping is unique, each one of these animals behaves in a way to avoid further feeling of danger.

And that makes me think about my own personal cocoon and makes me realize that sometimes humans and animals are so interconnected. There is so much commonality in behavior that I find truly spiritual.

For me, when I perceive danger...I find there to be a distinction from what I want to do and what I actually do. So for me in this year of 2008, I have absolutely suffered. Suffered in ways that I didn't think I could handle. And throughout it all, I have had the overwhelming urge to retreat to my room, turn off the light, get under my covers, and forget the day. I would feel so incredibly empty inside, that it didn't feel like there was anyone on the planet who could help me fill my void. I would dream of going to sleep and waking up years later, so that the memories of my hurt would be distant.

But I found myself fighting that. Which now on reflection I am wondering if it was good or bad. At the time, I felt like fighting it was the right thing to do, I was so scared to retreat into the darkness and hermit into my own shell, because I thought I would never be able to escape it. So I pressed through it. But now I believe that I would have come out of the darkness and into the light eventually so maybe I should have allowed my body to live what it wanted.

But irrelevant, I didn't. And I filled my time with the people and things that I love . So I broke through my cocoon and wanted to appreciate the lessons I had been taught about the sanctity and delicacy of life. We all have our cocoons. And we all have our ways of dealing with actual or perceived danger. But it is our relationship with our cocoon that makes the difference.

how do i feel?


Today in my favorite class, Human Growth and Development, we had a guest speaker. Think that our teacher decided to bail on the same day as class registration coincidentally? I think not. People get so stressed out here when getting class schedules that half the class was 20 minutes late. Our teacher wouldn't have had that. But for me, I was so excited to meet this new speaker. Her name is Victoria and she spoke on Death and Dying.

Now this is a topic for me that as of late has many emotions circling around it. There are two main parts that I want to talk about though: my own feelings towards it, and my own process when confronted by it.

My own feelings toward it: for so much of my life, I have given the impression that I wasn't afraid of it. "I see it as inevitable, therefore what is there to be scared of?" That is what I used to say to people when asked my personal opinion. When really that is a lie. I am terrified of it. I am terrified that my days will end. I am terrified that I will miss out on experiences. I am scared that my loved ones will have to suffer my loss. There is so much unknown wrapped up in death that gives me anxiety. Not necessarily anxiety of where I will go, but more anxiety that my life as it is now will be no more. And today I admitted it. I told my class that until this point, I misrepresented myself and that I was ready to set the record straight. I don't find sanctity in the unknown.

This year, I have suffered a great deal of death around me. And it hasn't been the kind of passing on that is expected and acknowledged. It was harsh, violent, unexpected, devastating, piercing, saddening, and lonely. It forced so many emotions into my personal space that I didn't anticipate. I wasn't given the opportunity to say good bye to the people I love and therefore when I think of death, unfortunately right now for me, I only see darkness. Which leads me to my next topic...

My own process when confronted with death: I think I have rushed my grieving process this year. With all that has happened and all that has been laid in my path, I haven't given each individual circumstance its due. I have felt so much sadness surrounding the entirety of it. So much exhaustion from the relentlessness that I just wanted to bundle all of the deaths together and grieve them all at once. And after I had grieved them, then I just forced myself to see the beauty in them. Which isn't necessarily wrong or bad, I just feel it isn't complete to who I am. I shouldn't be so quick to "take gifts" from my unfortunate circumstance. I should in my opinion give the mourning just as much ability of expression. Because it is the completion of mourning which transforms into the receiving of gifts.

The two work hand in hand. And death yes is an unknown, but I feel like I have the most LIFE in me when I am able to truly and genuinely understand my relationship with DEATH.

Monday, November 10, 2008

every single process


It seems as though these days every day has been a transformation for me in some regard. I haven't really realized it until a few months ago, but the change that is occurring within me on a daily basis is pretty interesting to me. Has it always been that way, and I just didn't have as much self awareness to realize it? Or have certain events and circumstances in my life just provided a catalyst for more change?

Who is to know. But it is interesting to know right now how much is brewing side at any given moment. I feel like each interaction with someone, each work opportunity and each class period is leaving me with new layers of myself to uncover and new thoughts to marinate in.

But it is interesting in the sense that each time I feel like I have gone through an individual digging process, for a brief moment in time I feel clarity and feel like I have really gotten to the depth of me. And then a new opportunity for self growth emerges and there are yet other layers to uncover. It is remarkable, each human literally has millions of layers of complexity. And everybody does. Now whether we have the chance or even desire to do the digging is individual. Not everybody has one or either.

But it does arise questions in me. With regard to each of these processes, are any of them more true than the other? It seems as though right now I can generally categorize these years of my life as "processing years," and mainly I feel it is due to where I am in school and what I am studying. But never the less, I truly felt as though when I finished nursing school and for the few months after, I was done for the moment with heavy processing. And then I started at Naropa University, and it started all over again. So should there be any reason for me to discount what happened to me then? I did for a little while for some reason, I was just feeling as though the current "digging" was the most true. And for a second forgot to appreciate the past "digging."

The digging isn't painless though. And for that reason, sometimes we forget to appreciate the process because we as a society are so inclined and eager to avoid the pain and release it from our conscious and memory. And therefore, we may then forget the journey. But here, marinate in the pain. Know that this kind of pain, is good pain. This is the pain that stimulates change, and encourages transformation.

All of these self transformations contains such a plethora of truth and foundation. Each one allows for the next to happen. It is the staircase of life. I read a quote a few days ago that I really loved: don't just stare at the steps, step up the stairs." So step up through each of these processes and appreciate every single moment. They make you who you are today. No single step should be left unattended and unacknowledged. They hold so much significance and importance. Remember the journey, don't just appreciate the finish line.

Friday, November 7, 2008

making space


At the moment, I am struggling with a dilemma. When I lived in Athens, my life was much different than it is now. When I moved to Augusta, my life changed yet again. A huge change occurred when I moved to Boulder. And now that I am a grad student in Boulder, shocker it is transforming another time.

And I have noticed throughout each transition that there is one commonality: there are facets of my personality which get the opportunity to be expressed more greatly than others during each of these periods of time. When I lived in Athens, my life as an undergraduate student was relatively carefree. I was in school, on my nursing path, working at Five and Ten on the weekends, meeting a ton of new people, and having tons of time to explore what I loved and do what I enjoyed. When I moved to Augusta, my priorities changed. It wasn't necessarily about having a ton of time for me anymore, my life was school. It was IV's, and bed baths, conversations with patients, SOAP notes (look that up), all white shoes, and clinicals. During my two years there, I did yes have the opportunity to play my sports, but honestly I was so unhappy in Augusta, that I spent my weekends back and forth between there and Athens, to find some shred of a life that I loved. (The only joys Augusta really brought me were a small handful of people and intramural soccer and flag football).

Eager for change, I moved to Boulder. Then my life became about outdoors and filler jobs. It was different for me, because I wasn't consumed by school all of a sudden and I did have more free time, but some daily pleasures that I loved from home (relaxation in the sun with sweet tea, humidity, knitting with my mom and her friends, etc) I didn't have. And I found that the face of Greer was changing. Personality traits of mine were emerging and I realized that I had such a passion for outdoors. That I feel was under the surface for so long just didn't have the chance to be expressed. But in a sense, I left behind so much of the Southern Greer. There are so many small blips of who I was that slowly were hidden.

And then I entered into school, and that is when this whole awareness really came to my mind. My life right now is a ping pong game. I am bouncing constantly between school and its obligations, work and its responsibilities, and social engagements. I am not complaining, but yet again...change. But for the first time, I was sitting with a friend realizing that I don't knit anymore. I don't make sweet tea or granola like I used to. I don't wear crazy socks when the mood strikes me (that is a weird example I know), but it is just a way to explain that many of the small facets that make up Madeline Greer Van Dyck have in some way or another fallen through the cracks.

So as I write this blog, I am listening to Frank Sinatra. REALLY LOUD. And that is something that I used to always do. I am going to take my basket of really weird hats and put them back in my car where they used to be (and depending on what mood I'm in, I'll wear the appropriate hat while I'm driving), I am going to go to the yarn store and make mittens. I am going to go buy oats and make my granola. I am going to hook another rug. I am going to do paint by numbers. I am going to journal by the river. I am going to write to my grandmother. I am going to bring the South back to me.

And this blog is an opportunity for me to tell you that no matter where we are in our lives, we are changing. We are evolving daily. But that evolution doesn't mean that elements of your personality should fall by the way side. It is a chance for incorporation of the old and new. Bring back to yourself what you feel has gotten swept under the rug. Change is great, and change is where I am in my life, but remember the old. I want to make space for all of me.