The Danger of Distraction: Turning Toward Pain to Eliminate Suffering

As we are all hunkered down at home, figuring out what to do with all our extra, unstructured time has been a hot topic.  Posts share activities to do alone, with our children, with others outside of our walls via technology tools such as Zoom (live meditation, book club, or family talk sessions), YouTube (online Tai Chi, house concerts, book readings), and Board Game Arena (where you can play board games online with people all over the world). 

I have friends posting the latest puzzle they've completed, new drinks they concocted with special COVID-19 satirical names, socks they've knitted, and latest movie marathon or binge-worthy show they have found.

While all of these things are wonderful, and I am so thankful to have so many options for how to spend my days while at home, I have come also to understand that it can be detrimental as well. I'm sure I'm not alone when I share that I've been feeling emotional pain (anxiety and sadness) along with physical pain-Fibromyalgia muscle and joint pain all over my body that flares up in roving areas throughout the day. When I experience pain, my goal is to always get rid of it.  I see it as bad and not a feeling I want around.  If I can be distracted from it, I chose that.

Distraction from Pain Doesn't Heal Pain

If you've been following my blog, you know that I've been taking an online Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction (MBSR) meditation course through palousemindfulness.com. (To get a background for what I'm doing, check out this post Mind Over Matter: 21 Days of Meditation.) During week 5, I was introduced to a woman who has had a lifetime of severe pain (physical and mental), Vidyamala Burch, who has created a mindfulness program to live well with pain. She explains in her book Living Well With Pain and Illness, "When you bring awareness and curiosity to the actual experience of pain, often you find that it's not as bad as you feared."

The focus of my last two weeks has been to use meditation when I'm not feeling well (physical pain or emotional pain) to then TURN TOWARDS pain. I also just finished reading The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F@#!$ by Mark Mason which hammered in the same premise. "In every case, we can choose to avoid our pain or choose to engage our pain. When we avoid our pain, we suffer. When we engage our pain, we grow," states Mason in his blog post My Life Philosophy.

"We suffer for the simple reason that suffering 
is biologically useful. It is nature’s preferred agent 
for inspiring change." -Mark Manson 

During my studies this past week, I was introduced to the idea of the Felt Sense which is a concept that describes internal bodily awareness that arises from increased awareness.  Basically, it is a turning towards the sensations in our body (often difficult to describe) to bring them to consciousness.  Manson suggests, "We suffer for the simple reason that suffering is biologically useful. It is nature’s preferred agent for inspiring change."

  

Much like the Disney movie Wall-e shows, if we were always content with no problems or pain, we'd also become complacent. With pain and need, comes innovation and solution. I'm sure if I had not developed Fibromyalgia, for example, I would not be here writing, researching, digging into knowing more about what makes me tick. I was pretty content to ignore myself.  But my 'self' wasn't having any of that. The poem, The Felt Sense Prayer, concretely illustrates how the human mind and body work together not only to protect us but to grow us.

It's a longer read, but so worth it.

Tara Brach, Psychologist, Author, Teacher, 
reads this poem and shares how she 
came to turn towards her own pain. 

Manson contends, "Like physical pain, our psychological pain is an indication of something out of equilibrium, some limitation that has been exceeded." If we then focus into that pain, becoming aware it's there, we are then able to come back to balance.  

Burch has created a 5-Step process to turn towards our pain so that we can live FULLY. "... the only authentic and sustainable way to be fully alive is to be open to all life's moments, not just the ones I prefer," she explains.  This life is short; I want to live as fully and as authentically as possible.  My years of ignoring, blocking, and last year this time, drowning in pain, has brought about a sense of discord between my body and mind.  These past three weeks of consciously turning toward pain (emotional and physical), I am noticing a sense of ease and balance blossoming within. 

Step One: Awareness

Meditation is just taking time to focus inward. For me, I focus on the feel of my breath coming in through my nostrils, down my windpipe, and into my diaphragm like a cool, silky ribbon.  Then, at the turning point of exhaling, I follow it's warmth in reverse; inevitably, my body releases a bit more into the bed, mat, chair as I do this. Getting distracted is natural. Burch explains, "You'll probably find yourself caught up in distractions hundreds of times a day, but choosing awareness even once is a victory, no matter how fleeting that moment may be." So, I've learned not to criticize myself for having a monkey-brain, but to notice and celebrate when I realize I'm off my focus point and come back to it. 

Step Two: Turn Toward the Pain

This is the time when I pick out one thing to focus on. Maybe the aching, burning pain deep in my left thigh or the tight, weighted feeling in my chest that shows up when I'm anxious. As I continue breathing, I focus on the feeling, imagining the breath to reach right there.  I may even put my hand on the main area. And then, I work to notice the sensation, being as descriptive as possible: burning, aching, sharp, sadness, loneliness, etc.  My meditation teacher, Dave Potter, says to say "I notice that there's something in me that has the feeling......" This wording allows me not to identify myself as this difficult feeling but to acknowledge that it is there.  I notice the area, size, shape, and texture of the sensation.  Sometimes it is thin and blanket-like, resting almost overtop of me. Other times, it seems to be rounded and blobby, thick as a donut. It can be sharp and hard or dull and wooden or elastic and ropey. I notice my feelings about this sensation. At this point, I work to soften my approach to it; allowing it to be.  Treating it and myself as I would a child who was hurt, being gentle and loving.

Step Three: Seeking the Pleasant

Breathing into the difficult sensations, accepting them as they are, I begin to notice minute changes in the feelings. Then, I begin to scan my body.  Starting at my toes and slowly scanning to the top of my head, I search for a pleasant sensation. At first, I really didn't get this. I have pain all the time in nearly every part of my body. However, with practice, I've gotten better at noticing the little pleasant tingle in my earlobe, or the buttery softness of the blanket that's covering me. This is not a distraction of positivity as Burch explains, "This attitude of sensitivity, openness, and honesty to the whole of your experience, including your pain, now allows you to gently turn to the pleasant aspects of the moment that have been there all along, just outside your field of awareness. You can feel stable and whole, rather than grasping for pleasure to avoid your pain."

Step Four: Broadening Focus to Develop Equanimity

At this point, after about twenty or more minutes in the above three stages, I spread my focus to encompass my whole body (noticing the pleasant and difficult sensation is still there).  Widening out, much like you do when you zoom out in Google Maps.  Focusing then on the room I'm in, still noticing my body's sensations, then widening out to the neighborhood, town, and world.  This seemed like a hoaky part of the turn towards meditation; however, I'm beginning to understand and assimilate that this is the time I realize I'm not alone in this.  I am reminded that pain is a part of the human experience. This leads to acceptance and non-judgment of my situation (equanimity).

Step Five: Learning to Respond Rather Than Reacting

I can choose my response to whatever difficult feelings I'm experiencing.  I can choose to accept and soften into it, being loving and gentle with myself. "Rather than feeling your pain is right on top of you and you're trapped in a battle that leaves no space to choose your response, you can find ways to respond creatively to any circumstances with a soft and pliant heart," teaches Brach.
This is not magic.  It takes practice, over and over.  I'll notice, hey my throat feels tight and achy.  When that happens, taking time to Turn Towards right then, makes this a choice that gets easier and easier. And as I am finding, more effective each time. 

Vidyamala Burch explains how she's learned to manage her own pain through meditation and breathwork. (21 minutes) 

Helpful Resources:

• MBSR Week 5 with Dave Potter
• Here are two (audio) guided meditations by Dave Potter that I have used again and again: Difficult Physical Pain & Difficult Emotional Pain 
• Vidyamal Burch's 5 Step Model of Mindfulness
• The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F#@$%- Yes, he liberally uses the F-bomb, but it makes sense for the point he's making.

How do you handle difficult feelings/sensations? What do you think of Vidyamal's method of turning towards pain to live more fully?

Thank you for visiting my blog today. 

I am committing to posting once a week on Fridays.  

However, as you know, my new normal means that sometimes 

I have to listen to my body and am not able to follow through as planned. 

Thank you for your understanding.

Click link Subscribe to Pain FULLY Living Weekly Posts by Email

What's Good Enough?-Acceptance to Eliminate Shame

My counselor gave me this question to think on 
after we discussed my recent two-week fibro flare.

So, I have a confession, it's one I'm making to myself and to you if you're reading this.  I am a fair-weather accepter.  I have been working on acceptance of my life with fibromyalgia.  To get there, I have been meditating every day and have gone back to counseling.


I accept that I need to be mindful of my body's needs.  I accept that my days-in and days-out look different from what they had been. I accept that if I'm going to do something, I need to plan ahead by getting rest or packing extra things to bring with me. I accept that I need to bow out sometimes.  I accept that I have to let go of doing everything I'd like in one day. I accept that I need to ask for help.  I accept that I spend much of my day developing my health.

However, after a couple of weeks in a fibro flare, feeling like the power to my brain and body has been cut off and the joint pain of elbows, hips, and knees turned on high, I really, really got discouraged.  Eight days in, I used the word depressed for the first time ever when telling my husband over the phone how I was doing.  

The next day, I went to my counseling appointment.  One thing that stuck with me, as far as acceptance is concerned, is that I've been accepting when things are going fairly well, and during this time, I was frustrated, angry, sad, and depressed due to not being in control at all.  I mean, I've been doing all the good things: yoga, meditation, belly breathing, gratitude, etc., so why this flare for this length of time?

I am coming to understand that I have great anxiety around not being in control.  As I've explained, my childhood was wildly unpredictable and fully out of my control.  Even then, I would play the "mother" to my mom and sister, trying to control the environment and make it all better.  Then, in my adult life, I worked in a field where my classroom was fully under my control. As teachers were taught to think that we could create an environment and expectations that would keep things predictable and moving in a good direction.  And at home, with my own family, I practiced the same mentality.

As I'm beginning to feel better the past couple of days, I began to think about what my counselor asked me to figure out. "What is good enough?" Meaning, these down days, I tend to beat myself up because of everything I want to be doing and be a part of that I'm not. So, instead of that, I would set up my own standard for what is good enough for me. Because it is me alone that is judging me. My norm has always to know what is good and then shoot for higher than that, so not reaching that highest level means complete failure. For the first time, I grasped that there is a good enough level and that it's okay for me if I chose to finally accept it.

Initially, I was thinking it meant I had to determine what was the minimum of things I did that would be acceptable on a down day? Thinking that if I had to lay around, I should have certain things that would make it more enjoyable and use that as my guide of "good enough". 

Down Day List of Special Things only for this time: 

• Comfy but stylish PJs or outfit, rather than the leggings and beat up sweatshirt I tend to wear because I then feel ugly on the outside and inside.
• Special books to read or listen to that make me feel like it's a vacation choice
• A yummy tea in a special cup so I can pretend I'm at a fancy bed and breakfast 
• A planned menu or special treats that will help me curb from eating the junk I tend to get into when I'm feeling down.
• Movies, TV shows, comedy shows, and podcasts I could watch or listen to. 

Quickly, though, I realized that while having these things ready would be helpful, I couldn't quantitate "good enough" by what I did. Literally, by Googling "what is good enough", I came to find a talk by Brene Brown whose book I saw sitting on my counselor's shelf but didn't know of her myself. I watched her famous YouTube Ted Talk on Vulnerability, her interview with Russel Brand, her talk about shame, and then her show The Call to Courage on Netflix, all in the same evening. 

Photo by geralt
Shame for not being healthy fuels my struggle with acceptance.

Something she explained about shame really resonated with me. "I define shame as the intensely painful feeling or experience of believing that we are flawed and therefore unworthy of love and belonging – something we’ve experienced, done, or failed to do makes us unworthy of connection." I realize that I am ashamed of myself when I'm not healthy. I feel like I'm not doing all that I should to be well. I'm not good enough to figure this out.

I'm currently reading a book, GET BACK INTO WHACK by Sue Ingebretson, who describes her journey with fibromyalgia. She talks about how she came to manage the symptoms and healing. For me, this is what I expect of myself.  I have been diligent in being proactive. And so, I now understand that I feel shame for this flare because it means I didn't do enough or did something wrong. I feel shame for letting my people down.

And so, I realize that I have not accepted that I am vulnerable. I've been determined to outsmart this syndrome. And so, I'm understanding that I am vulnerable, but in the words of Brene Brown, “Vulnerability is not winning or losing; it's having the courage to show up and be seen when we have no control over the outcome. Vulnerability is not weakness; it's our greatest measure of courage.”  And by choosing how I respond to these times with self-acceptance and self-love, I do have control over these down days.

My Down Day "Good Enough" barometer:

• Did I do what I was able to do? 

• Did I listen to myself and my needs?  

• Did I appreciate this day that I was given?

• Was I present in my day?  

• Did I relish in what I was able to do? 

• Do I notice what I did (and not what I didn't) do? 

I understand that if I can use this through acceptance, I then release the shame (and all the bad feelings that go along with this) that just heighten the flare into something unbearable.

I'm not giving in.  Just allowing myself to have honor in these down moments. I am enough. I am grateful right now because I am alive.

How do you handle down days?  Do you beat yourself up?  Can you relax into it with acceptance?  Do you have any special protocols you do that help you feel more positive during down days?

Thank you for visiting my blog today. 

I am committing to posting once a week on Fridays.  However,

as you know, my new normal means that sometimes

I have to listen to my body and am not able to follow through as planned.

Thank you for your understanding.

Click link Subscribe to Pain FULLY Living Weekly Posts by Email

A Love Story: Stronger Together

Waking up this morning with pain, I cried. Pure frustration. My poor husband asks, "What do you want for me to do?" At first, I asked for a massage.  When he asked where,  I just whimpered, "Nevermind."  Reality is, he can't possibly help.  The pain seems to have no spot to massage. It's just everywhere.

So, I ask for my Yoga Tune Up Therapy ball, hot pad, and water, and meds.  That helped me to calm down.  Then, he drew me a hot bath with Epsom salts. And, as I soaked, he brought me some tea. 

This is love. 

 Our Love Story

Our first summer together 1983
in Chelsea, MI at Camp MUCC.

I met Kelley when I was 19. He was 22. I was the waterfront director at a fairly unusual summer camp for kids. Camp MUCC, Michigan United Conservation Club, which for those of you who might not know, is a hunting club. Being I had never even thought about hunting before, this was an odd place for me to land a job. But I was there for the water.  Kelley, on-the-other-hand, having studied Wildlife Management at MSU, was hired as a riflery and hunting instructor.


This was to be my home for the summer before going off to college. I had just left my foster family's home never to be a dependent again. I knew I was now on my own. Kelley was on his own, too.  Everything he owned was in two luggage boxes.  This was to be his home before he ventured out to find his "real" job.

The week of training, before campers arrived, we hit it off right away. And from there, on the weekends, once the campers had left after breakfast on Saturday, we often were the only ones left at camp.  Being we were poor as college-students, but we had food and shelter on a small lake in the quaint town of Chelsea, MI. Life was good. 

Kelley was from Manton, MI,
  so he brought me to meet his family before our week's journey.
 His older sister was shocked
when he showed up at her door with a girl!

At the end of the summer, before I headed to college and Kelley off to Arizona to try to get a ranger job at any national park, we went on a week-long canoe trip, just us two, down the beautiful Manistee River.  It was probably the most wonderful week of my life.  At the beginning of the trip, Kelley asked, "What if I asked you to marry me?"  I snorted, "I'm too young for marriage. I'd say no." Nothing more was said about that all week.  However, at the end of the week, as Kelley was taking me back home to Grand Rapids, his car broke down near the Cedar Springs exit.  

We stayed the night at the campground just off from 131, Kelley covered in grease as he worked on the car to get it going. I remember him looking up from the engine as I stood there talking to him and handing him tools as he requested.  And that was when he decided it was the perfect time to ask, "Will you marry me?"  I didn't hesitate, didn't even recall what I had said one week earlier, "Yes, I will."  


We were engaged, no ring or anything at that point.  We didn't tell anyone we were for at least half a year.  Kelley was leaving for AZ in the coming week, and I would be at UofM forging a new life.  Not sure we knew how things would work out, but I know for sure we both knew we were going to be together through it.

This was before the Internet and email was a thing in your average person's life. Kelley and I were poor.  I was living off my savings from the $1000 I had made over the summer, Pell Grants, and student loans.  Kel was living with his mom and step-dad (both very supportive of him finding a National Park job) and odd jobs he found in Phoenix. We could not afford long-distance calls and so we wrote. 

I've kept these in a binder from that time.
There are over 100 letters, notes, and cards.

Kelley was and is a guy who shows his love through what he does and generally doesn't say lovey-dovey stuff.  Surprisingly, when given a pen and paper and no way else for us to connect, and he poured everything out.  I, too, found that writing allowed me to fully express my thoughts and emotions, much more so than when we were goose-bumped, love-struck-dumb in the presence of each other. (Ah, new love!) And so the letters (long, long letters) flowed.  

After six-months apart, Kel not finding a park job and me really struggling at school, he decided to drive back to Michigan.  The red Pacer he was driving was glued and tied together for the most part.  But he was determined to get back to me.  He drove straight through on what would be the equivalent of several Monster caffeinated drinks (but his was black caffeinated capsules).  By the time he got to Ann Arbor, his eyes were buggy and bloodshot and his hair a greasy mess.  He called me at the dorm room letting me know that his car had conked-out on the highway.  

Being I didn't have a car, my good friend, Mindy drove me to get him.  She was ever so kind to let this wild-eyed, unsavory looking man into her car.  She had really only heard my stories, saw me writing him letters, and making him mixed-tapes of love songs, but she really had no idea who he was at this time. 

We laugh now (she and her husband have been good friends all these years later) at how she out of pure love and concern said, "Katie, are you sure you want to marry this guy?"  I was sure.  I loved that scruffy, red-bearded man, and I knew he loved me. 

Now, that's some car!

It was that February (Groundhog's day) that we bought my engagement ring and our wedding rings. That next summer, we did one more stint as camp counselors at Camp MUCC and then the next spring, 5/25/1985, we were married, surrounded by our family and friends. 

We've been married 34 years. Down days like the past few, make me appreciate the love we share.  We've had so many twists, turns, ups, and downs on this journey together.  We've grown so much from those homeless babies back when we first met.  The life that we've built together gives me strength, courage, and purpose.  

Being parents to two amazing children,
and then being blessed to bring in
our daughter-in-law and now our grand-daughter,
makes everything make sense, you know?

Kel this morning at his desk of our shared office.

We continue to journey together. This year finds us with more twists and turns.  Ever stronger together, we will find our way.

I almost didn't write a post this week.
The first two paragraphs were written on Monday.
I was too out-of-it and down to write after that.
Until today.  The direction of the post took
a totally different turn as I thought about
how much my guy means to me
and just how much he supports me and has
from the very beginning.

Thank you for visiting my blog today. 

I am committing to posting once a week on Fridays. 
However, as you know, my new normal means that some times,
I have to listen to my body and am not able to follow through as planned.
Thank you for your understanding.

Click link Subscribe to Pain FULLY Living Weekly Posts by Email

Up in the Air: Struggles with Flying, Fibro Flare, and Acceptance

Photo by Skitterphoto
While I have appreciated flying with Delta
Airlines, the long walk to the back of the plane,
being stuffed between to bigger men,
 three tight transfers, and my sensitivity
 to all things in motion,
made for a very challenging trip. 

This week, my husband and I splurged on a ticket for me to join him in Pasco, Washington.  Kelley does contract work that causes him to travel about one week each month.  Being I had never been to the state of Washington and he was going to be gone from Monday to Saturday, we decided that I would come along.

Not Prepared

I blame myself (and my brain fog) for how the trip has gone.  After a pretty active and clear-headed week, I found myself very tired and foggy last Saturday.  Being we've always packed a day or night ahead of any trip, I didn't even consider planning ahead.  BIG MISTAKE!  I really haven't been on any long travel trips since before my diagnosis.  The last big trip (driving from Michigan to California and back) was two years ago and the beginning of the unusual, constant, deep pain roving all over my body.  

And so, Sunday, while not horrible, found me not at all motivated or clear-headed when I packed just before bedtime.  My belligerent body, seemingly because it knew we'd have to get up at 4 am, decided then that I didn't need to sleep at all.  And so, I was awake and ready to go by 4:30; however, my zombified brain didn't consider that I didn't have my purse with me until we were nearly at the airport, one hour away from home.  Of course, no identification meant no boarding.

Our text convo😖

Good News, Bad News

Being we didn't have flight insurance (something we may have to bite the bullet and pay the extra fee next time), we didn't expect that I would be able to go.  However, Delta, being overbooked for that morning's flight was asking for volunteers to take the later flight.  My husband was able to get them to add me to that ticket at no extra charge to us.  So, off he went, with me driving home to better prepare for my travel. 

It was a bit of a knuckled drive home due to icy conditions on the roads, and I was struggling to keep awake.  I felt like I was in some out-of-body state. However, I made it home safely and was really looking forward to cuddling back into bed for a few hours of sleep.  Determined to get my purse into my backpack so that I had everything ready for later, I looked for it hanging on the hooks in the mudroom.  Not there... So, did I leave it in my car (a bad habit I've gotten into lately)?  Nope.  Where could it be? Then, it dawned on me.  I rode in the backseat of my husband's car (the one we took to the airport that morning) with my granddaughter three days ago when we took her to a waterpark for the day. I walked meekly to the garage where I had just parked it and looked into the backseat; sure enough, there it was.😖

Even so, I really didn't let it get to me.  I was actually thankful for the extra time to myself to get some sleep, do some yoga, and just rest, knowing that I'd be stronger for the flight the next morning.

Feeling confident and prepared,
I started my Tuesday morning
pretty alert and energetic.

Let the Games Begin

I felt ready.  Starbucks' non-dairy splurge coffee made me feel like a pro. It wasn't until my short flight to Detroit that I really looked at my tickets.  I was arriving at A5 four-minutes before boarding started for my flight to Salt Lake which was leaving from gate A65.  Hmm... I realized that I was going to have to sprint.  I made it and had time to pee before getting on because I was in one of the last seats on the plane (beggars can't choose better seats).  As I carefully walked down the narrow aisle, guarding my backpack so as not to hit anyone, I saw my seat, middle-stuffing between two bigger guys.  Luckily, I don't mind smaller spaces, or so I thought.  

Boy, I now realize that being confined without ways to stretch really isn't good for my tightly-wound body. It was a long four and a half hours.  I had chosen not to travel by myself while on Bonine for my motion-sickness and forgot my ginger chews, so as the flight progressed, I began to get a strange dizzy-headache that then lead to a hardball forming in the pit of my stomach. During the last 45-minutes of travel,  I did nothing but work on closing my eyes and slow breathing.  I was glad to get off without having to use the little paper bag provided in the seat pocket in front of me. 

The last connection, again a very tight-transition time, caused me to have to get directly on the flight to WA.  I was in the very last row of this puddle-jumper airplane and knew from the get-go that it was going to be a rough trip for me.  I didn't open my eyes until the wheels touched down an hour and a half later.  Meditating got me through the time without throwing up, but my body was one big knot, and it took everything I had to get my suitcase and find Kelley waiting for me just outside the airport's doors. 

A wonderful room to hang out, write, read, and do yoga.
Unfortunately, I'm still feeling like I have
motion sickness.

Not Feeling the Acceptance

I'm struggling with acceptance.  Today is the third day of feeling like I'm still motion-sick with added muscle pain literally everywhere.  I'm feeling so weak, dizzy, light-headed, and nauseous in addition to aggravating, whimper inducing pain at every point of my body. I really had wanted to use this get-a-way to write, read, and practice meditation and yoga while Kelley went off to his job. While I am doing some of that, it's coming hard.  I've been feeling a bit defeated in the whole practicing of acceptance. I have this gnawing doubt that my life with fibro will never get better and that going on Cymbalta just maybe my only option.

But still, I plugged on the past couple of days searching for anything that proves I'm on the right path of rewiring my brain through meditation and mindfulness.  I went down a neuroplasticity and meditation Google research path that took me to an open door of hope.

Photo by milivanily
Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction by
Jon Kabat-Zinn is a scientifically
researched 8-week meditation class
that has shown great results for
people with issues like chronic pain.

Have You Heard of MBSR?

I hadn't heard of Mindfulness-based Stress Reduction Therapy until I stumbled on the research paper titled "Mindfulness- and acceptance-based interventions for patients with fibromyalgia – A systematic review and meta-analyses". The report talks about how participants in 8-weeks of meditation classes of 30-40 minutes a day caused noticeable, positive changes in their brains. This led me to find the developer of MSBR, Jon Kabat-Zinn (who I actually have read his book Wherever You Go, There You Are).  I ended up watching a talk he gave to Google employees on their lunch hour: Mindfulness with Jon Kabat-Zinn.  From there, I found various ways to participate in the 8-week course, but all of them would cost a decent amount.  Then, I stumbled on something amazing!  The course is offered online for free from Dave Potter, a fully-certified MBSF instructor.

I started my preparation for the 8-week class today.  Instead of a printed notebook of the materials as is suggested, I'm creating a digital version.  So far, I have it ready through week 1.  Feel free to make a copy of what I have or follow along with me as I add the upcoming weeks in as I go.  

Click arrows to go through the pages.  

Some pages have links to videos and PDFs.  

I've enjoyed the meditation that I've done through Calm and Jeff Warren, but they tend to be short sessions.  They've given me the thirst for more, and I think this is a good next step.  

Trip Home

In my research, I have also learned that my impromptu travel planning and packing is not the best when you have fibromyalgia.  I've found a few helpful articles by fellow spoonies that I will use for this home trip and those to come.  Also, I'm going to take Bonine which will make me really sleepy, but with Kelley leading me around, I should be okay.

Do you have any travel tricks that make long journeys more bearable and less flare causing?  Have you tried MBSR or meditation to help with your symptoms?  I'd love to learn from you.

Thank you for visiting my blog today. 

I am committing to posting once a week on Fridays.  However, as you know,

my new normal means that some times I have to listen to my body and am

not able to follow through as planned. Thank you for your understanding.

Click link Subscribe to Pain FULLY Living Weekly Posts by Email