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What Doesn’t Kill You…

Jeanna G1 Comment

When I was little, I loved having the attention of my older brothers. They’re 11 and 12 years older, so they had many other interests aside from playtime with their baby sister. Needless to say, whenever I got their attention, I was up for anything…and I mean anything. 

A common activity was being timed on how fast I could do things for them. “Go get me a soda! I’ll time you!”

Or when we’d play hide and seek and they’d stuff me under the couch cushions and sit on me and act like they didn’t know where I was. 

Then there was that time Jon tore up the neighbor’s yard on his dirt bike while I was riding piggyback. 

Or that time they both got tired of babysitting, so they threw me in the backseat of the car for a joyride. They pulled so many donuts in a cul-de-sac that I’m still unable to get on carnival rides. 

But my favorite activity was playing Monster with Joe. The story line was always that he was the Monster, like as in Frankenstein’s, and someone was always trying to take away his Dolly (yours truly), so he had to keep me away from the bad guys. He’d whip me around in circles by one arm and then let go. I’d fly and roll across the yard and then run back for more. 

Now I know what you must be thinking… You wish you had brothers like mine, don’t you? 

Give Yourself a Timeout

Jeanna GLeave a comment

When we were kids and did something wrong, we’d get a timeout. “Go sit over there and think about what you did wrong. You can come back when you know how to act right.” Oftentimes I am so busy taking care of other things and people that I forget to take care of myself. Sure I eat and shower and whatnot, but am I also nurturing my social, spiritual, and emotional wellness? Am I taking the time to remember who I am and to honor myself by doing what I truly enjoy?

As a kid, I loved being outside. There was so much to take in, so much to feel and wonder about. My daughter and I went on vacation to a lake house with our friends this past weekend. Together we floated in the lake, warmed by the sun and cooled by the water, talking and laughing, rolling over the wake sent our way by the passing boats. The sky stirred our imaginations as we watched the clouds morph into different shapes, wondered about the low-flying helicopters, pretended to be birdwatchers who knew the difference between an egret and a heron, oohed over the distant fireworks, and were mesmerized by the full moon rising and the way its reflection reached across the water to touch us. We breathed the fresh air and felt a close affinity for the world around us. I played, it made me happy, and now I feel recharged and ready for whatever’s next.

Do you forget who you are sometimes, too? It’s time to be your own wellness coach, so blow the whistle and give yourself a timeout! What do you miss doing? Think about it and then go act right!

Growing Pains

Jeanna G4 Comments

I write about childhood for lots of reasons. I find happiness in wandering back to my youth, and I like to think that my stories can help others do the same. And for those who do not find their childhood worth rediscovering, I hope they find that it’s not too late to experience youthfulness as adults. I also write about childhood because I value play, and agree wholeheartedly with George Bernard Shaw’s thought that “we don’t stop playing because we grow old, we grow old because we stop playing.”

A more personal reason to write about childhood is because I miss it. Growing up hurts. A lot of that hurt has to do with loss. Loss of relationships. Loss of innocence. Loss of imagination. Loss of first loves. Loss of residencies. Loss of memberships. Loss of identity. Loss of freedom. And all of these losses are hard because they’re irreplaceable.

In a previous post, I wrote about my best friend moving away when I was 7. We lost touch and never spoke again. That’s a lot for a young person to handle. That’s a lot for an old person to handle. It was probably my first real exposure to the concept of loss. I’ve lost touch with other friends along the way as our paths veered off in different directions, but the first loss will always be the most painful.

My high school sweetheart. Gosh I loved him. He went off to college while I still had two years of high school to go. We made it work long-distance for a year, but then it came to an end. Although it was perfect while it lasted, it just wasn’t meant to be. Even still, I count it as a loss.

I used to play sports year-round. I was part of a team, every day, year-round, from 5th through 12th grade. Once I left for college, that whole lifestyle was lost.

I used to attend youth group on a regular basis. Some of my favorite memories are from the Winter Retreats at Pilgrim Pines in Swanzey, NH, and playing Ultimate Frisbee at our regular church meetings. I sound like a broken record, but again, when I left for college, that was lost.

I used to play in the band and sing in the choir. I marched in parades with the Fife & Drum Corps and the high school marching band. I played in the jazz and concert bands. I sang in the chamber choir. I traveled to competitions for both band and chorus. Performing music was a huge part of my life, but again, lost.

I worked odd jobs for beer money: lifeguard at one of the town clubs, counter girl at the local pizza place and the Video Galaxy, lawn mower, babysitter. Now I have a career that provides beer money, but I drink it on my couch in front of the t.v., instead of around a fire in the woods with a ton of friends, hoping the cops don’t find us.

In middle and high school I was a member of the Student Council. We planned proms and fundraising events. Now I plan what I’m going to make for dinner.

When I left home for college, my parents sold the house I grew up in and moved out of town. By then, all of my siblings were spread out, and I felt like there was no longer a home base on our playground.

For all of these reasons, becoming an adult and going off to college caused another loss, a loss of identity, because I really was starting from scratch. My foundation was still intact, but I had to build a whole new life on top of it. Becoming an adult and leaving home also caused a loss of freedom. Young kids think they’re trapped, but it’s the adults who don’t have freedom — freedom from responsibility, that is. As an adult you have to take care of yourself, and everything that entails: pay bills, feed yourself, motivate yourself… Adulting is way harder than Kidding.

So how do the pains become gains?

I guess it’s what we do with our losses that determines what we get out of them. I tend to lean toward the sunny side, so I think loss can serve as an opportunity to start anew, and it can be a motivation to re-create what’s memorable. Now I know that nothing can be exactly the same as it was in our childhood. Let’s face it, we’re just not as amazed by things the second time around. We’re also not as innocent, imaginative, or limber. Some things may have to be experienced vicariously, and some things will just be a version of another. Either way, I find it’s worth the attempt. I strive to strike a balance between reliving what I love and trying new things. I also try to learn from my losses to know what to hold onto or let go of.

All in all, yes, life is filled with growing pains, but we can find some comfort in knowing that joy and love were there first. If we dig up the past, they will resurface, too.