What's helping me right now

Every once in a while I like to stop and consider the things that are helping me in life, as well as the things that I think are hindering my progress. I am a natural-born purger, so it's easy to get rid of what isn't serving me. But taking note of the things that are helping seems to give me a little boost, and don't we all need that? So here's what is good for me these days:

Morning pages

I'm not sure where the name "morning pages" came from, but I learned about it in a writing group I am part of called Hope*Writers. There's a little button on the sidebar down there that links to my profile on their site, but you can find the group here. If you have any kind of writing goals in your life, this organization can be super helpful in meeting them. It is full of encouraging people who know all kinds of stuff you need to know—especially the things you don't know you don't know yet. Probably the best thing I've gotten out of the group is a sense that if they can do it, I can do it too!

Just one of the little things I love about Hope*Writers is that someone is always recommending a book, and I do love a good book list. I have one on Amazon that's a mile long. A few of the recommendations were good, a couple not so much, and one has been profoundly helpful to me, The Power of Writing It Down, by Allison Fallon.

I'm very open about the fact that I've suffered some trauma in my life, and I have spent the last few years trying to figure out the best way to deal with it. I've tried a LOT of things. EMDR therapy has been a big piece of the puzzle, as well as talk therapy. I've learned a lot about how the brain functions and what happens to the body, brain, and spirit when a trauma occurs. So Allison's book made a lot of sense to me. She details why writing—and specifically writing about your trauma PLUS your thoughts, feelings, and emotions about it—can be so helpful in healing. Since I started writing this way every morning, I feel lighter, less anxious, more able to roll with the daily punches, like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

Allison refers often in her book to James Pennebaker's Opening Up, which I also just finished reading. In it, he outlines study after study that led him to understand how verbalizing the facts of your trauma and your feelings about it is crucial to healing. When a trauma occurs, it's too much for your brain to handle in the moment. The brain doesn't know what to do with the information so it stashes it in the "current" file and then keeps thinking it is still happening right now. This writing practice helps your brain process what happened now that you are in a quiet, safe space. Since I love reading actual studies, this was a fun book. Why yes, I am a nerd.

I've never been a journaler, never kept a diary as a kid, but I'm finding that this practice has been super helpful. Want to give it a try? Here's what to do:

Every morning, write for 15 minutes. Write with an actual pen on actual paper. No one will see it so don't spend time editing what you write; just get it out of your brain and on the paper. If something is bothering you, write just the facts about it first. Then write your thoughts about it, and then how you feel about it.

Do that for four days in a row and see what happens. You can write about the same topic or different ones—whatever seems to be at the forefront of your mind.

If you do this, I would love to hear what you think about it and whether you think it has helped you in any way!

Deep-tissue massage

Can I get an amen? One of the things I've dealt with since my last accident is muscle spasms in my neck and back. I always get them in the same place—underneath my right shoulder blade so they're hard to get at—something about turning your head right before you get hit head-on. Who knew? From there they extend up to my trapezius and over to my neck. It's a trifecta of muscular fun. In the two years we've lived in Virginia, I've tried five different massage therapists. I always explain where my problem is and that I need deep-tissue and I don't even care if it hurts, just please get rid of these knots. And while I've had some lovely massages, no one has ever been able to give me long-term (or even really short-term) relief. Until Steve.

Steve is a jolly, big-ole country boy who doesn't know his own strength. He has hands of steel that feel like vice grips on my muscles and he's been the only person who could get the spasms to let loose and stay that way. Sometimes we'll be having a great conversation while he is working on my tight muscles and he will realize I've stopped talking. He told me he's learned this is a silent scream for mercy and to maybe not push quite so hard on that spot. Then I start talking again and he knows it's okay. He is great at what he does.

And then came the month of road trips where I drove over 5,700 miles and I'm almost back to square one with pain in my back and shoulder and neck.

But I have a date with Steve on Friday so I see relief in my future. I'm looking forward to the pain. Yay for deep-tissue massage!

Cows behaving

We are slowly phasing out twice-a-year calving and mooving (ha) toward only calving in the spring. This was the last fall we would have cows due, and we are finally through it. We were waiting for the final one—34—to have her baby and it has taken a sweet forever. I'm sure she feels the same. Almost a month ago, Jenna Kate started saying how she looked so ready and it would be any day. I've heard this before, so I don't get excited until we have hooves on the ground. I always remember what my daughter Deb says: "Babies come when they do, not when they're due." Anyway, 34 finally had her calf and it's a cute little heifer. 34 is being a good mama and the calf is doing what calves do: eat and sleep. There's not much difference between cow babies and human babies, except that human babies stay inside the fence where they belong.

Then there's the saga of 96 (who used to be 37 but rubbed her ear tag out so she got a new one) and her little bull calf. He was born on August 6th and for who-knows-what reason, she walked away. This being her third calf, it was unexpected since she did so well as a mom last year, but there they were in the pasture: 96 grazing happily and her calf stumbling around bawling himself hoarse.

No problem, we thought. We'll just put her in the head gate (which is at the opposite end of the farm) and let him latch on and they'll be fine. So we moved the entire herd up to the working pen, got 96 caught up, and let the others out on new pasture.

Then we went back to where the calf was still sleeping (at the other end of the farm) and made a plan. Calves don't usually let you just walk up and grab them. They fight like they're about to be a foreign POW and they are strong! We had rope to tie his hooves so we could carry him, and the plan was for Ben to tackle him and tie him up.

About five seconds after the tackle it became apparent that Little Man wasn't going to cooperate in the least and we were trying to reevaluate the situation while dodging flying hooves when our buddy Jamante drove up. That man has great timing (for us, not for him). He was tasked with holding Little Man down while Ben did the tying. There was some serious struggle, but eventually they both came up gasping for air.

After a short break they picked up Little Man, who we estimated to weigh maybe 65 pounds, and started carrying him to the truck. LM wasn't having it and put up his best fight, and Ben and Jamante learned that 65 pounds of dead weight would have been easier than 65 pounds of fighting weight. There was much thrashing during this operation.

Ben and Jamante finally got the calf in the bed of the truck and held on while I drove to the other end of the farm where Mama was mad that she wasn't with the rest of the herd. We got her in the head gate and shoved LM up behind her where he latched on and drank like a starving refugee.

Sometimes you have to do this a few times to help a cow and calf bond, so we figured we'd do it a few days and then all would be well.

No. Stupidity ruled the barnyard. They both continued to act like they didn't know they belonged to each other and nothing we did helped at all. (This is such a long story that includes molasses all over the calf and more grain than we've ever fed one cow. Trust me when I say it is way longer when you're living it.) So for the last two months we've gone to the farm twice a day to put Mama in the head gate and let Little Man nurse. It's been the only way he could be fed and after last year's bottle-calf experience, we were determined to win, whatever that looked like.

Finally the other day Ben went over there and it was apparent the calf had been nursing. That happened a few days in a row, so 96 and her guy are now back with the herd where they want to be. Mama is still not terribly cooperative, but the calf has figured out he has to be persistent and she will eventually stand still and let him eat. We hope this is the end of that nonsense.

Whether it is or isn't, 96 is going to freezer camp in February. Wanna buy some beef?

Grandbabies

Because 4300 miles didn't seem like enough, I added a road trip to the other side of Tennessee where five of my grandchildren and all three daughters live. It was a fantastic few days that included the best fish tacos, tanned mouse hides, meeting a flock of chickens each one by name, and reading stories until my throat was raw.

Leah came home with me so we could then drive up to Northern Virginia to see my parents because just 300 more miles and I can be due for my second oil change in a month. I am a goal setter.

Then one last trip to the airport and I am hanging up my keys for at least a week.

How about you? What's good in your life these days?