Journal - Grace in Light and Shadow

Making the Choice for Optimism (or How Keith Urban Reminded me Optimism was a Choice)

Posted on June 15, 2013 by Sarah ElizabethFebruary 20, 2023

Robin Roberts has said, “Being optimistic is like a muscle that gets stronger with use.” Lately, in spite of the fact that I am a naturally optimistic person, I have had experience with contributing to the atrophying of that muscle!

I am in the middle of coursework to obtain a Master of Arts in Clinical Mental Health Counseling. Up until five weeks ago, I have loved the coursework. I believe this degree and one day being a Licensed Professional Counselor suit my talents, gifts, and interests. So what happened five weeks ago that changed the status of “loving” the work?

Research Methods in Counseling happened.

Two weeks into the course I told the professor I haven’t had to learn so much information in a single block of time since first grade! He thanked me for the feedback. I also haven’t felt as intimidated by a course since ninth grade algebra. Let me tell you something about ninth grade algebra. I passed it but barely. The next year I did well enough with geometry. But the summer between geometry and having to take Algebra II, I signed up for the summer school course of Algebra I of my own volition. I did that to tackle the intimidation that filled my body every time I just anticipated taking Algebra II.

Summer school made a difference in 1977. Graduate school doesn’t offer summer school make up (or get-it-better-the-second-time-around) courses! I need to get this stuff down the first time around.

I have pouted and huffed and puffed about this course. It has filled me with a knot in my stomach from which I cannot distract myself. It just has seemed like too much, too fast, too over-my-head-when-will-it-end stuff!

In as much as I often study with music on in the background, I have chosen music to match my mood these past five weeks. My music choices have mostly been soundtracks of movies with big life, death, and conflicted hero themes. The one I have had on most frequently, for instance, is the soundtrack to The Last Samurai. Now I love that movie. It is my most favorite Tom Cruise film. I think the photography is beautiful and the story inspiring. But that soundtrack, man, is mood making and depressing!

Yesterday I met with a fellow student so we could work on a group project for the Research Methods in Counseling course. I refuse to bore you with details of the project. The most important point about it has been how intimidating the project has felt! Well, yesterday we effectively worked through and past our intimidation and got a handle on that thing. That felt good, very good!

I just happened to have put one of my Keith Urban CDs in the car that morning. Driving to and from my friend’s house and while running errands afterwards, I let Keith serenade me over and over because his music was lifting me up. I felt upbeat because of what my schoolmate and I had accomplished and Keith was taking me higher! At one point I said out loud to myself, “The music I’ve been listening to has got to go! I want Keith Urban, his song choices (the ones he writes and the ones he borrows), his guitar, his banjo, and his voice on in the background while I write the paper and work on the project due for this course!

Keith’s music helps me feel optimistic and it has made a difference. Until yesterday, I didn’t realize I had contributed to the stress brought on by this course by no longer attending to the muscle called “the choice for optimism.” It made me remember Robin Robert’s quote and inspired this blog entry.

Growing up I was told it’s easier to frown than to smile. Smiling takes effort. It takes physical effort because it works against gravity. It takes psychological and emotional effort because it defies the gravity of life’s slings and arrows. Turns out the same is true for optimism. (I’ve got Keith’s Defying Gravity CD on right now! 🙂

I choose optimism and with that choice comes the discipline of attending to subtle details that will either flex that muscle or cause it to atrophy. I’m glad to learn the lesson and grateful to be flexing that muscle again, building it up and lifting my thoughts and feelings to a higher place where I can better bless God, others, and myself.

When Hard gets Harder Still (the journey of dementia)

Posted on May 17, 2013 by Sarah ElizabethFebruary 20, 2023

"Butterfly & Thistle" copyright © 1998 Sarah Smith Bailey, all rights reserved.

When hard gets harder still, the journey of dementia my mother’s on circles like a spiral and all we can do is follow her and be present with her.

I wondered how it would feel when she no longer knew who I was. This is how it feels: neutral. It just doesn’t matter. All that matters is showing up for her and trying to decrease her suffering as much as possible.

I’ve been around the elderly my whole life. I’ve worked with dementia patients and loved them dearly. I thought that if anyone was prepared for what could happen to a family member suffering from dementia that would be me. Not so. Wasn’t ready for this situation that creates grief, deep sadness, and skirts one around the edges of depression. For those who are direct caregivers, losing their grip at that edge is of serious concern.

Days ago, locked in grief, the lyrics “could we start again, please?” kept running through my mind. I could not remember where they came from. Today I remembered. They’re from “Jesus Christ Superstar,” the song Mary Magdalene sings when his arrest and crucifixion are upon them. I want to start again, please. I want a do-over. I want to take a Mulligan, travel back in time and prepare her for what’s to come. Prepare her and us for what’s to come.

copyright © 2013 Sarah Elizabeth Malinak, all rights reserved.

But I don’t think it would have made a difference if we could have seen it coming. Dementia isn’t a personality thing. It is a mental illness and, no matter how well prepared, it takes what it takes from the brain and if the mental and emotional resources go missing to help a person cope with what hurts, they’ve just gone missing. And there is no getting it back and no substitute. There is no sublimation process when the memory of how to cope goes missing.

With many diseases the hard gets harder still. The heartbreak of Alzheimer’s and any other dementia is that at some point the patient can no longer process his or her experience in words; which means we can’t be certain we can make a difference for her.

So we show up, are present, and do the best we can even when our best falls so far short and we pray, pray, pray that on some level she knows she is loved. That she is love itself. And that God has God’s arms wrapped around her now and, some fine day, will catch her on the other side. It’ll be like taking a breath, opening her eyes, and there she’ll be, loved and cherished beyond comprehension – the place in which she has always existed but then will know it face-to-face and heart-to-beating heart.

For now we add our own arms and hearts of strength and compassion, offering our own suffering up as a prayer to ease her pain. Breathing in and out while trusting that the arms of God surround and support us too.

copyright © 2012 Sarah Elizabeth Malinak, all rights reserved.

When there are No More Presents to Open

Posted on December 28, 2012 by Sarah ElizabethFebruary 20, 2023

It was the night after Christmas and I knew I was too old to be sad that it was December 26 and there were no more presents to open. Our Christmas this year was soft, low key, easy – just perfect for us.

Closing the garage door against the cold December wind whipping round the mountains, I felt it – a sense of foreboding that almost disguised itself as the old, youthful forlornness of the night after Christmas.

Stilling to notice the distinction between the two feelings, I realized the foreboding had to do with how it is now time to settle in for the long haul of winter. Even though the days have already begun to lengthen, winter falls hard and heavy until the first spring buds appear. Holiday preparations, decorations, pretty lights, parties, and family gatherings have preoccupied us, taking our attention off a primal knowing that we need extra care, heightened attention, and extra reserves of just about everything this time of year.

The next day, on a morning hike with Daisy, the Scots-Irish in me loved the bracing wind. Invigorating, it put a spring in my step. The light snow on the ground was pretty and I felt up to the challenge of winter. I remembered that throughout the winter there are monthly festivities to lighten the load. New Year’s, the Super Bowl, Valentine’s Day, and even St. Patrick’s Day give us excuses to gather and celebrate the human spirit in the dead of winter.

Perspective matters any time of year. It can make a difference in perceived happiness, contentment, and satisfaction. This time of year, having extra reserves of perspective might be a good thing to add to the list of heat sources, candles, flashlights, groceries, electricity-free games, food, drink, books, and water.

This time of year, perspective might be a way to give oneself and loved ones extra care and heightened attention.

When Christmas is over and there are no more presents to open, the gifts within (compassion, love, perseverance, humor, perspective, etc) can keep us company for the days ahead till spring returns, lightening our bodies and hearts.