My hero story
Saturday
June 21, 2014
The dark force, “Anxiety” enjoyed lurking in the back neurons
inside Karen’s mind. This creature
reveled in lingering around Cowden’s mind even as a young child. Today was no different. As the monster moved into the forefront of
her mind it came disguised as swirling waves of class four rapids – well, at
least that is what it felt like to her.
One day her Aunt passed away. This lovely mentor and family member had
given love to Karen but now it was time for her to be at peace, and rest her
weary body. Aunt had been fighting over
multiple strokes for the past 12 years.
Now, by the age of 81 it was her time for passing. “Anxiety” was raring
to make a return visit from inside the back-burner of Karen’s brain.
“How are you going to cook anymore?” it shouted.
“Who is your family, now?” it bellowed.
“Where will you go
for holidays and family events?"
The increasing volume of “Anxiety’s” tone pounded away at
Karen’s heart and head until she just wanted to run away – but how do you run
away from something inside of you? Her
sweet mother and kind sister wrapped their arms of love around her while in
Sarasota for the funeral.
Mom said, “There is something that just has a hold on
you. You are going to get you to shake
it!”
Her sister said, “You know this is a good thing for Aunt
Arlene. She is at peace, now.”
So, the day of the funeral came, and Karen had a good ol’
cry. It was rough handling the waves
“Anxiety” rolled her way. Ups and downs of this vile creature were internally
torturous. After a few days the calming
words from friends and family, along with hugs had an effect on Karen. She felt love pouring and her community
growing – others had shared their experiences with such loss, and it comforted
her weary heart and head. Also, she felt
her years of athletic training bubbling up inside of her. You know, the nature of a trained individual,
used to coaching and focuses on practice, determination, dedication, “grit” and
good-ol’-fashioned strength.
ath·lete [ath-leet] Show IPA
noun
a person trained or gifted in exercises or contests involving
physical agility, stamina, or strength; a participant in a sport, exercise, or
game requiring physical skill.
“Anxiety” kept trying to be one of the champions on the podium
of winners, but it always was shy of destroying Karen’s place in the race. For a little while it seemed that “Anxiety”
had completely moved out of competing for a spot, but this was only a temporary
and manipulative move. In the next few weeks Karen’s mind and spirit were
calmer, and her focus at work and with life were better. Daily chores came and went. The ebbs and
flows of life just moved along, and she got back in a routine and learned to
smile, again. Oh, there were hiccups of
drama along the way – like students asking unintelligent questions, friends
fading away due to impossible expectations, and hips growing from too many
cupcakes (or too little time running), but in general life was even keel.
“Anxiety” was unexpectedly quiet. It was
gearing up for a disastrous attack of her identity.
On December 19th (date is still fuzzy) Karen was
at her mother’s home when, for the fourth time, she probed her mother for a health
status update of her uncle. He was not
well. A gentle, wise man, Uncle was one
of her favorites. Karen used to live for
chances to chat with him, hand him tools in the garage, pick oranges from his
orchards, or listen to his stories. He
was simply the mold that other men needed to be crafted from. It appears his heart simply broke after losing
his lovely wife, (my Aunt). Now, he was
close to his time of passing, too.
“What is happening to my life?” muttered Karen, but it wasn’t really her voice.
Again, it repeated, “Who are you if not part of this family?”
Louder and louder the ghoulish voice of “Anxiety” took on
the form and tone of multiple voices. The
greatest trick was how it disguised as Karen’ voice. On and on it berated her until she was
fearful of sleep. Her mind simply would
not rest and the voices raged on to not let restful sleep join the day’s
events. More pressure with work changes
swelled in “Anxiety’s” waves. Crashing
around were those class four rapids taking on the form of harsh criticism, “You
are too late for your own family!”, “You are all alone in this world.”, “You’ve
done it wrong, again, what a disappointment you are to us.”
On and on the torturous taunts roared through her mind, but
Karen was a champion swimmer. She had
been at it since the age of four.
Coaches, many coaches, had pounded patience, persistence, and positioning
in her mind in order to be the most skilled swimmer. New voices started popping
up, like popcorn in a pot: “Hope” and
“Compassion” eked out of her heart, but were not strong enough to overcome
“Anxiety’s” booming sounds, just yet. It
helped, immensely, that friends and family rallied, again. They enveloped her and cheered on her restless
heart.
“You know maybe you are awake so much because this is your time of awakening,” said one friend.
“It is time for you to get out all of that clutter from your past, focus on what you really want, and write those letters to those that hurt you – it will get you healed, now!” said another.
“We totally need to create your vision board – you need to see and experience your new future. Oh, and you completely have to let that one (guy) go – he’s a joke!” said others.
Well, “Anxiety” had some cutting responses to those
supporters:
“You aren’t a champion of compassion,” it bellowed. “You better stay up all night and have a vigil to your uncle. It’s the only appropriate thing to do!”
Words were just the start of this strategy from “Anxiety”. It knew more than just words were going to have be to part of the battle plan. It would take physical pain, too. So, it threw insomnia at Karen. When that wasn’t enough to kill her it tossed in mild anorexia. Next, it went after her professional practice and challenged her mind. With body and brain bruised, Karen lumbered on, reluctantly, to find a cure for this behemoth. Allied with her mother, who was born with more stamina than a Clydesdale (you know, we are originally from St. Louis, MO) there would be a solution and healing.
stam·i·na1 [stam-uh-nuh] Show IPA
noun
strength of physical constitution; power to endure disease, fatigue,
privation, etc.
“Never, ever, will I give up on you!” mother roared.
She had learned the deceitful ways of “Anxiety” many years, ago. So, mother was not letting any of her children get taken under the waves of this monster.
“We will figure this out, Karen! It doesn’t matter what it costs, we will get you healthy and we will NOT stop until we find the solution!”
Little, by little, Karen’s heart started collecting these tools of wisdom. An image of a Clydesdale came to her mind. Karen named her Clydesdale, “Meditation” and was sitting atop a saddle she titled, “Hope”. Strapped to her right calf was a pouch of arrows she nicknamed, “Truth”, and slung on her back was a bow called, “Coping”.
Clydes·dale [klahydz-deyl] Show IPA
noun
one of a Scottish breed of strong, hardy draft horses, having a
feathering of long hairs along the backs of the legs.
Karen’s mighty horse, “Meditation” did not seem bothered by
this pesky, “Anxiety”. It was a solid,
and strong horse. It did not need to
prove its strength to anyone, least of all to “Anxiety”. “Meditation” simply could step right over it
or crush it by placing one of its mammoth hooves on it.
“Anxiety” was screaming, “Hey, I am down here! I am talking to you. Are you deaf, Karen? Seriously? I have some things you need to deal with – and now!”
“Meditation” just snorted.
It was getting tired of this annoyer.
Karen answered, “You know, I riding on this a gentle giant, and like it, I am graceful, sweet creature, but do not miss my arrows of “Truth” sitting atop my saddle of “Hope”. You, “Anxiety” have been a valuable teacher by showing me the need to make changes in my life, and to stop procrastinating on starting my own family. However, you have more than overstayed your welcome. I am off to celebrate and thank all those that stood by me during my lesson(s). Oh, and to laugh, love, and shine. If I see you again, “Anxiety,” we will meet on different terms. You will not rule me or try to toss me in the rapids. It did not work. After all, you do know I am an athlete and am agile. I have swam through raging waters of life, before, and have learned sometimes the best way to not drown is to go deeper under the swirling currents until you swim like a motor boat to the side of safety. Right now, it’s time for my horse and me to ride off into the sunset and get ready for a relaxing romp in the river.”
