Zen and the Power of Why

Something big has to happen for me to leap.

A four foot snake sliding under my Adirondack chair—I am levitating in about 2.8 seconds.

A bad MRI for my brain tumor kid—I sign up for a half marathon, even though I hate running far.

But getting into a pool—I go slooooooowly. Oh so slowly. No leaping. Not enough reason to willingly freeze.

Even when everyone is yelling—I can’t leap.

In high school we went on a trip with a bunch of other families up to New Hampshire, and at some point in the trip we went to this rope swing on the side of a hill. Everyone was excited to try. You had to jump off a rock while holding this rope, and then sort of flop onto the board that served as a little seat thing.  When my turn came, I stood on the rock paralyzed. I just could not do it. The drop seemed so far, the chances of landing on the board so uncertain. The folks in charge helped me down to the little rock that served as a smaller leap spot, and I was still paralyzed. Younger kids were yelling at me, everyone was trying to get me to go…

I could not do it.

I was mortified, but finally gave up. I still remember the kids making fun of me.

I am not upset about it anymore, but I remember.

So leaping is not my thing. I have realized more and more the power of intrinsic motivation. I have to have a really, REALLY good reason for leaping.

I have to have a why. 

More accurately, a WHY. All capitals.

In some ways that is super un-zen, right? I should just zen for the sake of zen. But my zen needs a Why. Everything I do needs a Why.

Anxiety tries to outweigh the Why with worst case scenarios that will happen if I leap. Nightmares. Crabbiness. Ever-spiraling circles of thought.

But Why can be so powerful—more powerful than anxious second guessing. That snake was a Significant WHY for me to stand on top of a chair even though normally I would not recommend balancing on an Adirondack chair’s arms like stilts. . The bad scan was a huge WHY to make me run, even though I look like a cartoon character when I galumph along, and everything hurts–the Why was my daughter’s future.  As I slogged through the streets by my house in the August heat I kept repeating my why like a mantra … “bleep NF…bleep NF”…you can fill in the bleep.

As I try to work towards zen, I keep coming back to Why.

My brain needs order and reason at the same time my brain tends towards colorful chaos. I have to work to organize myself in a way that seems to come naturally for others.  And the anxiety really does work against my forward progress, stirring up all the thoughts even as I try to put them back in orderly-ish boxes.

But in this time of medical respite, I am finding I am able to grab on to the why to make myself do the “hard” things.

When my daughter was so ill, the Why—surviving the catastrophe, getting her well, keeping a brave face on for her and her siblings, getting out of bed in the morning even on the most hopeless days—that Why simply kept me going. I think in the midst of crisis that is what the Why does. When people would say, “I don’t know how you do this!” I was always a bit befuddled. What choice did I have? It was my kid. Anybody would try to keep going for their kid.

I see my friends who are navigating rough waters with their children right now,  their tenacity in putting one foot in front of the other, and the power of Why just shines through—even when that power is just barely enough to keep a family above water. The Why helps you survive, even if thrive seems inaccessible.

With space from catastrophe, I am trying to take advantage of the Why and to figure out what my Why is now, now that we aren’t at the hospital 4 times a month, or dealing with improbable yikes of other kinds. I am still not used to having the courage to commit to anything more than a few weeks out.  

So I am tackling “hard” things, trying to take little leaps (things that are admittedly not so hard for other people—but hey, I have to be ok with me being me. It is what it is). 

* I took on a new work project that ended up going really well—Why? Because  I need to figure out how I can best use my passion for education and research, and the only thing holding me back from this project was my fear of not doing it perfectly.

 * I scheduled (and went to-no wimping out!) my annual-ish physical—Why? I need to be healthy for my kids, my spouse, my own future. So far so good.

 * I then scheduled (and went to-gosh I wanted to wimp out) another annual sort of appointment that maybe I hadn’t done in 8 years. *cough. Same Why as before.  Even though I kind of broke the machine…another story for another time.

*  I am trying to be open to opportunities—WHY? Because I want to live with vision and purpose, and right now I am figuring out what those are in this new season of my life. I want to work at something that helps the world be better.

 * I am getting on a plane this week for the first time in almost 8 years—WHY? Because I know I need to be there for my R when she competes in Florida, this might not happen again, and I want to be there for her—and last year I could not go. I am remarkably zen about this, actually, which is a little weird.

(side note, if I don’t make it—because…airplanes-- know that I truly have no regrets about going. Being brave is better than hiding from life. I keep telling myself that. But really—you can pray for me on Thursday when I get on a plane (and then again on Sunday—and my husband and daughter who are on different flights), that would be awesome. )

Side side note: this is why I have not blogged. All my energy went to these things. Womp womp.

I want to do the things. I want to see the places. I want to not hide from the disasters that I still see around every corner (a Pavlovian response to 2004-20015). Why?

Because I want to be zen. For me. For my husband. For my kids. For my friends.

It’s like the old Hoobastank song, “The Reason”. This song helped me so much when I signed up for that first half marathon (I had 5 times worth of Why for 13 miles. Urp). Having a Why, a reason, can counteract the power of anxiety—especially when that reason is the people we love. I am working on having my OWN Why (ie for me) being enough—and I am starting to figure out that when I am intrinsically motivated to do things for my own improvement, that actually makes me a better wife/mom/friend for everyone else.  

Sorry, should have had everyone sit down for that Captain Obvious kind of newsflash. Hmph.

Anyway, having people cheer (or yell derisively) or push won’t do it. The motivation has to be intrinsic—helped along by the outside circumstances, perhaps (GIANT SNAKE!)—but the Why has so much power, if we can just take the time to identify what the Why is, and how it drives choices. Focusing on the Why helps me tell my anxiety to shut up already. I have more important things to focus on.

And yes, I have to repeat it a lot. My fears are super persistent and naggy and talk just as fast as I do.

So—what’s your Why? And where has it lead you to leap?

Need for Speed

This the text of what I said (um, read) at our Coffeehouse for a Cure to benefit the NF Endurance Team last night...sans weird ad libbing and the random "ding...dong" sound that came out of nowhere halfway through...



I am fast at a lot of things.
My students (and most of humanity) can attest to the fact that I talk really, really fast.

I can polish off a bag of Cadbury Mini-Eggs lightning fast.

Give me a word or situation and I will burst into an obscure show tune or commercial of the 80s or odd protest music from the 60s Super Fast!

I can spend $100 at Target alarmingly fast.

Make a mess in any part of my house? Fast.

Misplace my shoes? Crazy fast.

Lose my temper? Yeah, too fast.

I type uber-fast, and read crazy fast, and get through Costco on a milk/cheese/eggs
run scary fast.

So there’s a lot of things I do insanely fast. I like fast. Fast is how I roll.

But ironically, in light of what our Coffeehouse is about, there’s one thing I am embarrassingly slow at.

Running.

I am a pathetically slow runner.

Global warming happens faster than I complete a 5k. People on jazzy scooters pass me when I run. I go out for a mile jog and I have to make sure nobody sends out a search party for me when night falls and I have not returned.
I am really, really slow.

And honestly, I kind of hate running. I hate the way I look in running clothes –to quote a friend, “spandex is a privilege, not a right”, I hate the funky smell that follows any kind of running, I hate the feeling of having run 87 miles and then seeing a measly ½ mile marker. I am fluent in Whinese when it comes to running. I am REALLY fast at making up annoying little songs about running…running running is annoying/running is the thing I loathe…moving quickly getting stinky wearing stupid spandex clothes!

See?

So why the heck do I keep running? I mean, there are a lot of things in life I’ve made peace with stinking at. I simply don’t DO those things anymore, and the world is a better place. I will never be a great Ukrainian Dancer…or Scottish Dancer…or Hebrew Dancer…or Irish step Dancer—and that is truly ok. I will never be a champion in any sport that involves being outside in the cold (I like having feeling in my extremities, once I lose that things literally go downhill). I get full fast (add that to the fast list) so I will never be a competitive eater. One hotdog is fine for me. I am perfectly ok with NOT doing these things.

I’m probably NOT going to grow up to be Aretha Franklin either…that I’m less peaceful about. But I digress…

… why the heck do I keep running when I am slow, and awkward, and really have not earned the privilege of wearing spandex?

It’s pretty simple, really. In fact, it would make a great t-shirt…

I run for a reason.

I run for a lot of reasons, really. My reasons include, but are not limited to, Dave, Genna, Rosie, MJ, Emma & Amie, Gabbie & Ori & David, Maddie, Ann, Siobhan, Jennifer & Patrick, Jaxon, Meadow, Ryan, Jenna with a J, Preston, Jerry, Katsie and Carly and Genna’s new friend Tommy and Drew and Joey and Nora and our beloved Sandra.

Frankly, I think my reasons to run are better than my reasons NOT to.

Still, I am only able to run because of the NF Endurance Team…and not just because they gave me a snazzy neon singlet to wear with my ill advised spandex. Being with the team has shown me that the ability to do this is IN ME. I can do it, because the first rule of the NF Endurance Team is that we never run alone. There is a community of runners and supporters all over the country, all running for the same goal.

There’s crazy power in that.

It’s an odd thing, the NF Endurance Team. A few minutes with the families and friends and organizers of the team and you just WANT to get out and run. I can’t explain it. Even I felt that, and really, I am the Poster Gal for Sedentary is Super!

This team is just that amazing; the runners are just that inspiring; this cause is just that important; this reason to run, a cure for Neurofibromatosis, is just too compelling to ignore.

Standing on the sidelines at the Philly Rock n’ Roll ½ marathon in September, seeing over 100 runners with “NF” on their singlets running collectively for all our our loved ones…there is CRAZY power in that.

I will never be an ultramarathoner like my brother, who is once again running the Leadville 100 mile trail run in August for the Team. I may never actually get through a ½ marathon like my sister, Emily, is going to do in Seattle this spring. I may not even actually join Dave except as a cheering squad leader in Philly at the ½ in September. But my 4.5 miles at the Jersey Shore Relay are the way I can oh so slowly do something proactive for my family in the face of NF.

I may be slower than beach erosion in Point Pleasant where I’ll be running—in the broadest sense of the word-- on April 16, but I run for a reason.

You can too. Even if you are slow. Even if you hate moving fast. Even if spandex is not an inalienable right for you either. Come be slow with me. You won’t regret it.

There’s a famous quote by the runner Dean Karnazes that keeps me going when I’m training or when I’m discouraged in our long trek with NF. Run when you can; walk when you have to; crawl if you must, just never give up.

My girls face a marathon every day. Their battle with NF is involuntary and unending, and the fact is, we really don’t know what kind of roadblocks we are going to face in the future. This past year was a tough one. We faced the real prospect of restarting chemotherapy with Genna. Rosie started having hearing issues related to her tumor. To try to encapsulate the fear and despair and helplessness of the second half of 2010 in those 3 sentences is almost ludicrous. 2010 was a tough year. And in the last week alone, two of our dear friends in the NF community got really bad news…two children at a crossroads, again…
What more reason do I need to run?

So with NF Endurance I run against NF. I run for my children and my spouse and my friends and their kids. I run for a reason… and for that reason, I will Run when I can, walk when I have to, crawl if I must: but I will never give up. And I thank you for joining us in this race. Thank you.

Now the remnant of our old Smile Crew is going to sing…a song about being there for each other, a song, as always, dedicated to Sandra Blumberg, who showed us with endurance with a smile was all about….