Attempted Moderation

“Bah, Humbug!” Ric snarls at me as I shake my head when he reaches for a box of candy canes to throw in our cart. We are both on diets, and the Moms have clearly stated to keep the sugary treats to a minimum.

“We don’t need them!” I do sound like Scrooge, and it’s a role I seem to play at Christmas, in an attempt to cull some of Ric’s over-enthusiasm for giving this time of year.

It wasn’t always this way. As a child, our Christmas morning meant waking up to a room full of presents. Santa was overly generous in those days. As an adult, my children’s father believed that one gift and a stocking was the preferred way to celebrate the season, so I had to do a lot of convincing to let Santa be a bit more giving. Then as a divorced Mom of three, with limited resources, I came to appreciate that Christmas was much more than gift giving, a lesson I try to convey to this spendthrift husband.

So, I cut back, and he’ll no doubt add a few surprises on the day itself, and somewhere in the midst of it all we’ll find a modicum of moderation and the joy it’s all aimed at achieving.


It has been an interesting week of thought-provoking responses, and I thank you all for taking time to be here:

Reena Saxena
one letter UP
Stuff and what if…

See you tomorrow for a new challenge!

(Photo: A rare glimpse of Santa dining out.)

M.E. and the Brain

a9d3ddd404310204391660f87425d980My brain does not function properly.  I’ve written before about the difficulty in retrieving words and processing information, all symptoms of Myalgic Encephalomyelitis.  Another bi-product of inflammation on the brain, or perhaps it’s the nervous system, is that my mind locks on something and won’t let it go.

Typically, during the day, I can distract myself; it’s the nights that are brutal.  Three nights now I have been unable to sleep.  Just as I can overstimulate my muscles and cause damage the same is true for my brain.

It’s as if I have these internal electrical storms.  An idea fires, sets off an emotional spark, ignites a psychological tempest.  It doesn’t matter what the issue is – how big or small – the result is the same:  the replay button gets stuck on go.

We’ve been stationary these past three days waiting for the cold front to pass.  I’ve used that time to sort through photos, catch up on some writing, paint, and finish a book I’ve been listening to on audio.  I haven’t had any physical exercise.

I thought the physical respite would be good, but I see now that physical activity is important, even if limited.  I need to give my mind a break, if not through sleep, then through meditation.  636027162121494433-1577018822_moderation1

As with all things in life, moderation is key.  It’s a work in progress.

If you don’t hear from my for a few days – I am giving my brain a rest.


A Case for Moderation

M.E. is characterized by exhaustion after exertion and is systemic in nature. While I am able to do more than I was when this post first appeared, it continues to be an issue. The line between able and dis-abled is very thin, and now that we are on the road, I am forced to re-examine expectations and reality.

One Woman's Quest

“Before illness,”  I tell my therapist, “I had things I was working on – I was engaged with life.  Now I can’t do any of that.  I feel useless.”

She nods.  “Yes, that is what illness does.”

I’d had two days of feeling better.  Two days of being able to sit up and actually do a bit of housework.  “I felt so good that I actually started to allow myself to make plans,”  I tell her, choking up.

“That is the trouble with this disease,”  she explains.  “Patients have good days, and they do things, and it sets them back.  You need to learn to enjoy the days you are feeling better, without increasing your activity.  Your body needs rest; rest is what is going to get you well again.”

I look away.  How can I tell her about the messages that have been haunting me these past days?


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