The Zen of Caregiving

The Holidays Are Often Hard on Caregivers

Why might this time of year be hard on caregivers?

    1 Whoever you were paying to help out has this time off to be with their own family.

    2 In addition to your usual duties, you are expected to bake cookies, decorate the house, prepare special meals, entertain guests, and act cheerful.

While everyone else is counting their blessings and looking forward to a bright new year, you might find yourself down in the dumps.  That's what happened to me this week, though I'm continuing to meditate and to attempt to accept whatever is going on.

Our friend who comes four days a week to spend a couple of hours with Adrian, left this morning for his home town and won't be back until the second week of January.  That means I need to spend more time with Adrian.

The wind is howling outside and it is bitter cold.  There is snow on the ground and the woods are treacherous.  I think we'll stay inside.

What will we do together?  We'll figure something out, even if it's just sharing hot cocoa and reading the holiday cards we've received. 

Caregivers: How About Loving Yourself Unconditionally?

I'd been so down on myself lately, that I felt I'd lost whatever peace of mind and equanimity I had found through meditation. In the middle of the night, I'd lie awake counting my sins, ruminating on them obsessively. 

"I feel bad that I can't help you," Adrian said as we sat across from each other in the kitchen at 3 a.m. 

"No one can," I said.  "I just have to live through it."

He went back to bed and I continued to play solitaire--another one of my obsessions.  Why, I thought, am I throwing my life away like this?

And then yesterday morning, I was reading Pema Chodron:

    " . . . our true nature is not some ideal that we have to live up to.  It's who we are right now, and that's what we can make friends with and celebrate." (p. 12, The Wisdom of No Escape)

I suddenly had the feeling that I should and could love myself unconditionally. Yes!  I will love myself with all my warts and obsessions.  I will not worry about becoming a better person.  I will make peace with the one I am.

Reading Pema Chodron: the Breathing Pause

This morning I went to meditation at the Foundation of Light, where we meditate, read, and talk about what we read.  I brought in a book by Pema Chodron, and we read about pausing before reacting:  just stopping and taking three breaths.  Aaah, like that.

We were sitting outside in the sunlight, mesmerized by this bright warm day in Ithaca in the middle of November!

Pausing before we self-destruct or react with irritation and anger--how I need to do this!  

I notice that I am programmed to react to anything new negatively.  On a walk today with Adrian, he suggested a different way to go.  "No," I said immediately.  "That doesn't lead anywhere."

Then I paused and said, "Let's try it."

What was the big deal about walking on a path that ended at a fence and having to turn around?  It was no less pleasant than going another way!  We were out for a walk. 

Pause. Breathe three breaths.

Soften, relax, and let go.

Patience: Where Did I leave It?

Yesterday in my morning meditation group, I felt so centered, calm and peaceful.  I was ready to focus on my breath, to be present and mindful the rest of the day.  Yet, when Adrian and I went downtown to see a movie, I lost it soon after we left the parking lot.  

We had a half hour to kill, I mean "enjoy," until the movie started, and I noticed a new store across the street:  Urban Outfitters.  The word "outfitters" made me think it was an outdoors sporting type of store, so I suggested we take a look. 

Aach, the minute I got inside, I realized it was a store for cool hip skinny people under 25.  What were we doing in there?!  I wanted to escape immediately, but Adrian started wandering into the men's department, studying the clothing.  

I made a quick zip through the rest of the store, growing more uncomfortable with each rack I perused, then circled back to get him out of there.

"Look at these shoes," he said, pointing to a pair of loafers.

"Don't you have enough shoes?" I asked.  "Besides, these lace up.  They would be too hard for you to manage."

"Are you uncomfortable?"

"Yes.  Can we leave?"

Finally, we exited.  And then faced the rest of our downtown "commons" area, where Adrian shuffled along so slowly I could not keep behind with him, but kept surging ahead and having to wait for him.  Every eatery we passed, he would stop to look at the menu. 

"You don't want to eat anything there," I said.  "They're very expensive."

At another place: "Are you hungry? How come you're stopping at every restaurant?"

"You are something," he said, laughing. 

Even I knew I was laughable, but I just couldn't stand it.  "It's time to head back to the movie theater," I said, herding him along. 

And we sat waiting for 10 minutes for the show to start. 

It was an afternoon that provided me with ample material to practice being patient. 

Maybe another time.

Super-Brain Yoga Exercise to Improve Memory & Brain Function

This morning at Sunday's meditation group, I learned an exercise that is supposed to help with memory and brain function.  This "super-brain yoga" video describes the benefits to everyone, from children with autism to seniors with Alzheimer's. 

The video doesn't show the exercise completely, but it gives you the general idea.  With your left hand grasp your right ear-lobe, then with your right hand grasp your left ear-lobe.  Now, bend at the knees and as you bend, breathe out.  As you rise, breathe in.  Continue to do this for three minutes.

I came home and taught the exercise to Adrian.  He said the 3 minutes felt like a long time.  We will attempt to do it every day and report here how it works.

Have you tried it?  Please comment below and let me know how it worked for you.

Caregiving Before Zen, Part 2

Adrian has been a good husband for 27 years.  Taking care of him, no matter what that entails, is my obligation, my duty, my burden, my prison sentence of indeterminate length. 

That's how I was thinking and feeling about caregiving before zen, and it almost drove me crazy.  I had crying jags and screaming fits, and even considered signing myself into the psych ward in order to get out of doing it.  "If I'm crazy, they can't make me!"

Out of desperation I started going to group meditations on Sunday mornings, reading books like The Power of Now, and taking quiet time for myself in the mornings to read and meditate.  That is, I try to meditate.  Quieting my mind for even a few seconds is a gift I cherish. 

But I know I am on the right path.  Instead of seeing caregiving as a burden, I see it as an opportunity for self growth.  I am learning patience.  I am learning to breathe.  I am learning to let go.