u s e y o u r h a n d s

While there are many fun things about my alternative, hypnosis-based childbirth class, the most productive has been the assignment to craft a theme for birth and contrast it with one’s perceived life theme. If they match up, yay! If they don’t, you need to alter, tweak or flip your life theme.

Let’s take the life theme, “Nothing ever works out for me.” Lots of people have this theme, and lots of people have challenging experiences. But this theme almost ensures that you’ll never have anything work out — including your labor. A subtle change to that theme, for instance, “I rise to my life’s challenges,” is way more empowering. It’s easy to have a negative life theme. But in looking for small, positive things, I’m finding it’s easier to bounce back from negative ones.

A nice example came courtesy of the University of Illinois Extension. I need to expand my garden and would like to remediate or enrich the existing soil, but since we live in the city on an older plot, I’m worried about lead. It’s been a pain to figure out where to test, so I turned to the Extension. I found the Chicago Urban Gardening blog managed by Ron Wolford. An email to Mr. Wolford was soon answered. He told me where to get my soil tested and to call his assistant for a kit. His assistant was totally helpful and now I’m waiting for the kit to show up.

Now, that’s a positive experience that I can use to shape my life theme! And I don’t care what goofball, hippie-sounding thing I have to do in order to gain a more positive outlook and have a pleasant birth.

Wouldn’t you?

About two months ago, I decided to leave my job, where I’ve been for nearly four years. It was more than time. I’m planning on volunteering, gardening, and freelancing (hire me!).

But today was my first day off, my first day of freedom. And on May Day!

I started the day in therapy, which was great. Then Chipotle, which rocked. Then the Homer-Hopper exhibit at the Art Institute, which I really liked, particularly the Hopper bit. Then a Cubs game, where I sat in front of a father and son playing hooky from school and work. Then my first 5k, which I ran all of and finished in 34 minutes.

It was a good, good day. Sigh.

She felt the nail break as she swept her hand over the ground to collect the creeping charlie growing on top of the mulch. The nail, on her ring finger, held on, caked in dirt, broken half-way down. So many of her nails had broken this afternoon. Just that morning, she had held up her hands, fingers splayed, and thought about how pretty and even her nails were.

She pulled the creeping charlie out by its tough root. The weed was a tough customer, but she was tougher indeed. And with each more break, each more wince, she grew stronger and her garden grew lovelier.