Why I’m thankful for my limitations

A wave of melancholy washed over me the day of the holiday concert.   I was sad because I wouldn’t be singing with the local choral ensemble.group_5121

It’s not because the group didn’t want me.

This past fall I was honored to receive an invitation to join the choir, and began attending rehearsals.  My soul was immediately enlivened by the process of learning and making music again.

But I was simultaneously confronted with an old nemesis—my relentless battle with chronic fatigue.

The two-hour Sunday evening rehearsals were intense, with no breaks.  During each practice my body began to crash at about the half-way mark, leaving me hanging on by my fingernails for the duration.  Worse yet, I paid for it dearly for several days afterwards, struggling to function at work because of the resulting exhaustion, headaches, and dizzy spells.

Though I hated to do it, I knew I had to withdraw from the group. My health limitations had gained the upper hand once again.

Perhaps you know the feeling, even though your situation is different.  We all experience limitations of some sort—physical, mental, financial, educational, and emotional, to name a few.

It’s natural to feel frustrated or sad like I did when obstacles keep us from something we want.

But what if we could transform our view of the things that limit us (especially the things we cannot change) to a positive perspective?

th265r7k9f Continue reading

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Chronic Fatigue – Vanishing Spoons (Part 2)

thNVFN4H4ATo understand the full context, I recommend reading Vanishing Spoons (Part 1) first.

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I awoke the next morning feeling like I had been hit by a truck. My head ached and I felt an oozy sickness just asking my brain to process simple tasks. Getting ready for work took Herculean effort. I was clearly experiencing SSD (Serious Spoon Deficit).

Yet off to work I went.   It would not be the first (or the last) time I would press on despite feeling horrible.   Thankfully it was a quiet morning. Although my brain was crying out for reprieve, I urged it to keep performing. I responded to emails, worked on project details, and miraculously drafted coherent correspondence.   I was thankful I had survived the morning, but I knew I had pushed it as far as I could. The proverbial “wall” was fast approaching, and I was on a collision course with it. By noon, my gracious and accommodating supervisor understood that I needed to go home for the day.

That afternoon it all caved in. Continue reading

Chronic Fatigue – Vanishing Spoons (Part 1)

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The analogy made perfect sense to me. My dear friend, who has courageously struggled with several disabilities throughout her life, passed on a story about a young woman who was trying to describe what it’s like to have limited energy.

“Imagine you are given twelve spoons at the beginning of the day,” the story goes.   Each spoon represents energy expenditure . . . physical, mental, and emotional.   For most people, twelve spoons are more than enough to sail through the day, and they can th73STMV1Aalways go to their silverware drawer and get more, if needed. However, in the case of someone with a chronic illness or disability, seemingly small activities can cause a spoon to disappear before a “normal” person has even touched one. Continue reading