Wednesday, December 19, 2012

All I want for Christmas ...

The world is a ridiculous place right now. In the wake of national tragedy, people are - as people often do - acting like morons. So what's a girl to do?

Think about cool stuff, that's what. It's time for the inaugural "Things Maggie Wants for Christmas" wish list. This year, on Planet Maggie, I will dream of these things under the tree.

Either one; I'm not particular.
Frankly, I can't believe I've made it this far without getting one for myself. I came close this year, and then I fell off my own fiscal cliff. So, Santa ... please?

A new race? Why, yes, thank you.
The Soldier Field 10 Miler is on my race bucket list, and this year is the year for me. I know what you're thinking. "But, Mags, you're not even a football fan!" And you're right, I'm not. But this race is a unique opportunity to finish 10 miles on the 50 yard line at Soldier Field. I've never been to Soldier Field, and I think this would be a completely groovy way to see it for the first time. Besides, a 10-mile race in May will keep me training strong through the spring. So ... yeah. Registration for this sucker under the tree would be fab, thanks.
These; size 9.
I am in love with Frye boots. I have wanted these since about eighth grade. Santa just doesn't take me seriously.

It's an ugly watch, yeah. But it's also a run computer and heartrate monitor. 
It's a watch. It keeps track of my heartrate. And it knows where I am. This is important to a runner, because it also knows how far I've gone, how fast I'm running, and when I'm sleeping or awake. (Scratch that last part; just making sure you're paying attention.) It's actually a somewhat important piece of information for a runner, and much as I'd love one, I haven't gotten around to getting one for myself yet.

For leftovers. Glass, because plastic is evil.
I can't tell you how often I reach for something to put leftovers in, and it's plastic. Which is okay, unless the leftovers are warm. Or if, God forbid, I want to heat up the leftovers in the container. Enter, glass containers.

That's it; the all-encompassing wish list for 2012. Five things I will buy myself just as soon as I win the lottery. As for world peace - which I desperately want, and I think it's on everyone's list - I will just have to work on it in my own little way. I'll smile at people who cut me off in traffic and I'll try to remember that everyone has a story, and the only one I really know is my own.

A week from today, the present-opening will be over and we'll be back to our "normal" lives. And yes, there will be more sadness, fear will grip us once again and we will wonder how to go on. But we don't need to know how; we just need to do it.

Ever forward! Happiest of holidays to you all.

Friday, December 14, 2012

The holiday blues

I hesitate to write this. It's difficult, sometimes, to be raw and honest with yourself. It's even more difficult to be raw and honest with anyone who might happen upon this post. But it's also something that I think needs to be said, and needs to be shared. So here goes.

I spent the better part of this week wallowing in what I consider to be a state of  low-grade state depression. I called it "the blues", I called it "a funk", but we know what that translates to: depression. I've been prone to that horrid beast from time to time over the years, and I recognize it when it knocks on my door.

Back when I was in the early stages of divorce, my doc put me on an antidepressant to help me get through. It was a godsend; with good friends and a little chemical help, I survived that tough time. When I started exercising, my body began to offer up its own, natural assistance, so I was able to slowly wean myself off the meds. Thankfully, I've been able to regulate my moods naturally since then; I have only rare periods of feeling depressed. But this week, it hit me, head on.

I was ill-prepared for it, because hell, it's Christmas, the Most Wonderful Time of the Year! But there it was, anyway - the beast that caused me to look with disfavor upon everything. It didn't help that a trusted friend offered me unsolicited advice without bothering to ask any questions - like whether I wanted advice, or if I'd thought about things from another perspective (I had, and that knowledge would have changed the tone of the convo entirely). Anyhoo, here I was, swamped in sadness and wanting nothing more than a way to let it go.

In those moments when I felt like I'd never stop crying, I had the presence of mind to remember that those feelings would pass. I did not allow myself to go home and eat raw cookie dough, which is totally what I wanted to do. Instead, I went home and headed out for a run, in the fresh air. It helped, though I still felt weepy. It must be noted that my friends and family did (for the most part) exactly what I needed from them. They listened, made me laugh, opened up the safe airspace for the "airing of grievances", and checked in with me, offering a touchpoint of reality to ground me and surround me with love, which I desperately needed.

The truth of it is, sometimes it happens. Sometimes, sadness just is, and you need to give yourself the grace to get to the other side of it.

Today I woke up in a different frame of mind. Incredibly, I managed to not let the sadness get to me, and I found a way out of the sadness. I let myself feel it; I let myself cry and sleep and wallow, and then - in the form of my own little holiday miracle - the fog lifted. It took a few days, and during that time I remained focused on my many blessings, my goals and my big awesome ideas.

I don't feel like a new person. I feel like authentic Maggie, with an easy smile and a joyful heart.

Thursday, December 6, 2012

Of happiness. And monkeys.

A few months back, my sister Jennifer related a story to me from Dr. Henry Cloud. Cloud is a leadership consultant, clinical psychologist and by all accounts a pretty smart guy. Anyway, Jenn had listened to a message Dr. Cloud had given to the congregation at Willow Creek, and it resonated with her. As she spoke, I understood why.

The story goes that years ago - back when we did a lot more testing on animals than we do today - a study was done with monkeys. The animals were caged, alone, and exposed to extreme stress. Scientists measured the changes in the monkey brains (which, incidentally, are not the same ones Harrison Ford and Kate Capshaw were served in "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom") when they were stressed. Simply put, it wasn't pretty. However, when the stressors remained the same but the monkeys were put together, the stress indicators within their brains dropped by 50 percent. Cut in half.

The message, and this particular illustration, was all part of a talk on happiness. I may not be a clinical psychologist, but happiness is something I know a whole lot about. I am one of the happiest people I know.

It wasn't always like that. I can think of a number of times when I was anything but happy. The biggest difference between then and now? Monkeys.

I'm proud to say that I am one of Jenn's monkeys, and she is one of mine. But it goes beyond that. I have a network of monkeys! I have people in every area of my life who help make the bad times better, and who always make the good times awesome. I have monkeys who are local and monkeys overseas; long-term monkeys who have been around as long as I have, and monkeys who are new but no less monkey-like. It took monkeys to bring me through some extraordinarily tough times, and I hope to be a monkey to help others in a similar way.

If you aren't living a joyful life, please look around and ask yourself: where are my monkeys? Put in the effort to spend time with people who make life better. Put yourself on the road to true happiness. It's not like once you get there it's smooth sailin' - bad times assault us all from time to time - but the truth is, having people around you to help you through them is enough of a reason to ... well ... get through them. I could illustrate by sharing about the time I was served legal documents while a good friend was visiting, but I won't go there. Today.

Suffice it to say that, had she not been there, the way I reacted might have been vastly different. Having her there changed how I handled every challenge from there forward, because it taught me to seek out support when things suck.

There will always be things that suck. How you get through them depends on your monkeys.