Learned the Hard Way, or Just in Recovery? HAWMC, and Eagle Pictures

Good Morning, friends! Not quite so cranky this morning! I enjoyed a wonderful writers' group meeting last night--took my fluffy duster with me and clutched it all the way through, and went home feeling much better with the world.


Today's HAWMC prompt invites us to visit some past mistakes and look at lessons we've learned the hard way. This may be the only way I ever learn anything, aside from some academic, linguistic and culinary stuff! An additional difficulty for me in writing this is that there are so many things I'm still in the process of learning, still slamming into the wall over--I'm not in a position to say I've learned them yet. 


On the other hand, there's an obvious "hard lesson" theme that's been in resonance from the very first paragraph of my very first post on this blog. I confessed to being "in recovery from black and white thinking," which is part of why my blog has the name it does.


I'll say a bit more about that in the current "health activism" context, but first I want to talk about it in the context of the eagle.

Phil and I were talking in the cabin at lunchtime yesterday, when I looked out and noticed we had a visitor. 

Eagles don't usually like to land so close when we're around, but juveniles like this one are sometimes a bit more forward. Goofy guy... But then we noticed something wasn't quite right.

He couldn't put weight on his right foot. He ended up lying down like a pheasant, right on the edge of our bluff, in a patch of sun...

...and stayed there for a couple hours. I've never seen an eagle lie down like that before! 
Legally, you're not supposed to feed eagles, and it's a federal offense to kill one. But at this point, with the eagle in our yard, clearly suffering, Phil was wondering whether he should put it out of its misery. And we definitely thought it right to put out some food nearby, to give the poor bird a chance. 
As it turned out, he did take off eventually, and flapped raggedly away. I wonder if he'll make it--probably not. Been a long, rough winter, there are a lot of eagles here, and they are merciless toward weakness. But this is definitely an example of where black and white did not apply!


In terms of health issues, here are some lessons I've learned or am learning about black-and-white thinking:
(1) "The mainstream" isn't all toxic. Many people who are drawn to alternative health believe everything about the mainstream is toxic and evil, from the government to the water supply to all and every pharmaceutical medication in every and all contexts to conventional diagnoses. Cancer is a disturbance in the energy flow, mental health issues are invasions by unwanted guests that need to be released or exorcised. For a person holding these beliefs who suffers any kind of health issue, it quickly becomes impossible to participate in any kind of regular society. You can't work for "the machine," you can't wear regular clothes, or keep up with world news. 
I lived like that for many years, and kept company with some amazing people. However, it wasn't an overall positive for my health or my forward momentum in life. Recognizing that there are good people in 'the mainstream' and good work I can do there has been an emotional and beautiful process, and I have Phil to thank for tutoring my transition.


(2) Diagnoses can be useful--especially if you have (a) health condition(s) and are wanting to function in the mainstream. Diagnoses offer self knowledge, and also offer the opportunity to connect and support/be supported by other people with the same condition, who are able to relate to one another in ways never before experienced. If you don't have a framework for identifying the problem, how can you find a solution?


If I hadn't been willing to re-enter the mainstream, I wouldn't now be in my MFA Program that I love so much. I wouldn't be teaching, or participating in and facilitating writers groups. I wouldn't be getting invited to share my poems at local events. And if I didn't see my naturopath and therapist regularly, take my meds, acknowledge the triggers and freakout tendencies and strive to find ways to smooth those over, I wouldn't be able to do any of the above.


My life is richer and more functional (yes, even now when I'm at the end of my rope!) as a result.

What's something YOU learned the hard way? 

"50 First Weeks:" Seeking Algorithms, Finding Change (And Eagle Pics)

It's Monday again, so once again, I invoke "50 First Weeks." A mindfulness practice, always the opportunity to rekindle intentions. My ergonomics and housekeeping intentions continue to need rekindling, or something's going to catch fire from all the dust and spread-out notebooks! A busy week is in store--lectures to write and record, packet due, performance and rehearsals (on which more soon), excited brainstorm over an essay I'm writing, embarrassment of rough diamonds with my poetry offerings.

I'm feeling the lack of direct contact with my students, teaching through the web/veil like this. Only yesterday, when grading, did I discover how difficult everyone found last week's work! Pondering why that is and how to make it better is a good exercise in itself, but I also permit myself some pride that before lunchtime today I wrote, made slides for, edited, produced and published an entire extra lecture "to remedy the confusion."

I have a few more thoughts about the "50 First Weeks" frame of reference, but I have to interrupt it with this impromptu photoshoot (thanks to Phil) of an eagle in our yard, so close I practically fell over it when I inadvertently stepped outside!

The magpies are back--it's not clear to me that they ever left, but they were very quiet for a couple months, and now they're raucous and bold again. Would you believe me if I said that magpie was 2ft tall, in the picture for scale? That was Phil's joke...

Even at regular scale, the eagle is one huge bird...

They look so funny full frontal--the scary part is that that beak you can barely see is now pointed straight at you.

Of course, if one eagle was on the ground, he had probably found something good, so there was a mobile of eagles in the air, circling. He made sure to give them a good twittering, "Keep out!"

That eagle was in the yard for probably an hour. I was sitting here grading, constantly turning to see if it was still there, marveling.

As I renew focus with these "50 first weeks," I find myself torn between wanting an exact template--to know exactly what to do when, how much to eat and what, when to get up, when to exercise, to run with robotic perfection--and knowing with lively certainty that that kind of template would drive me crazy and that I wouldn't be able to help but tear it apart! It seems like food and diet are the most changeable areas for me, albeit revolving around such a small set of possibilities. It also seems like those are the areas in which I most desire micro-level control.

The part of me that wants to live on carrots at the moment has been embracing carrots, while simultaneously acknowledging that the day is probably drawing close that I won't be able to look at a carrot for a while (and organic carrots are one of the few reliably good cheap foods here, so I hate the idea of them not being a staple).

Slightly more worrisome: the part of me that loves to write about food is currently jaded and disillusioned. This is partly because almost nothing tastes good in the sense of "good" that I appreciate right now, and what does taste good doesn't feel good. Apart from hot no-caffeine home-brewed chai maybe. There have been other periods in my life where I basically didn't fix any food for myself beyond the occasional smoothie, and still derived much pleasure from creating foods for others and writing about it. I seem to be in one of those times right now, although, busy as I am, I'm not even enjoying the creating for others as much as usual.

I have some more thoughts on that "good in the sense of "good" that I appreciate" line that I want to share here. If I do manage to concoct something shareable in a Wednesday post for Valentine's tomorrow, I'll talk about what makes food "good" on Friday.

Love and happy Valentine's--a new week again!