Tag: cold

Are you a ZOMBIE? 3 Ways to Know if you’re truly stuck and NUMBING-OUT

texting

As a kid I would see adults numb out. (I didn’t know it was that at the time.) They’d get obsessed with hobbies, drink too much, channel surf late into the night, veg-out with a bag of potato chips, flitter about with shopping, or keep their nose in a book. Smart phones hadn’t been invented but going numb abounded!

I sensed I wasn’t like them because I was always moving on to the next adventure. I was sort of powerless as a kid, but I wasn’t stuck. It wasn’t just their actions, it was their faces gave away that something had shut off.

I get it now.

I get that we grow to numb out because it’s a way to reduce anxiety. Anxiety doesn’t lessen with age. In fact, more disappointments have piled up and more is at stake after a few decades of life. Disappointment, pain, fear, and frustration all drive us to numb out. I can’t think of anyone who doesn’t do it in some variety.

The difference is that some people can block and judo chop numbness and start moving again, and others get stuck in a pattern they go back to it–like food, or stay stuck in it–like a bed. That makes you fat and sleepy. Undead. A Zombie.

 

I have to fight off a tendency to go numb and zombie out, too. Life is painful, I get it. But, I’ve realized it’s worth the fight. (It’s an actual life or death struggle.)

Blasting numbness takes skills.

But how can you tell if you’re numb or just in a slump?
Here are 3 Ways:

 

1. You just can’t “get to it” 

Whether it’s that you’re -super busy-, or that you feel the conditions are never quite right to get started, there is a special sort of “stuckness” that signals Numb territory. You meant to. You want to. You should. But, there’s lag and drag.

2. You’re distracted by design

You try to stay busy or occupied (whether you realize it or not). Maybe you check your emails a lot, or play apps or video games, surf the net for reading material or naked people, or scrapbook like mad. Maybe you text a lot, or you have to “get your run on” (frantic exercise), maybe you troll blogs, or do Facebook on your Smart Phone when you find a gap in your day. You want a break! It makes sense.

Or maybe, it’s more subtle. Maybe the kids have crazy schedules of activities you must attend to. Whatever it is, you have to admit that you’re trying to appease to your restlessness. You’re trying to stay moving but really you’re going nowhere. In the end, you only want more “soothing” or movement because you’re still in the same place.

3. You’re less connected

Have you really opened up to a friend lately, face-to-face? Can people get close to you or really know you? Have you avoided getting close to other people because they seem like a pain in the butt? This is because there is something painful about it. You want to avoid that stuff and you want to stay numbed out. People are a great source of anxiety for all kinds of reasons, but disconnection means you’ll stay numb. It’s time to be fearless.

What’s really so bad about going numb or staying numb?

Tons, but I’ll limit it to 3.

• You. Stay. Stuck. (Hardly anything is more frustrating. It’s like a jail. But, you made this jail. It’s time to get out.)

• You stop growing as a person. (Remember the cranky neighbor or the jerk boss? That is or will be you! Don’t be that guy. Remember, the mean librarian or pissed off gym teacher. Don’t let it come to that.)

• Deadness. Zombies look cool in the movies, but…hello…they. are. dead. (and they eat the brains of living people. gross. Wow. How true is that, anyway?)

If you are numb, you are deadened. You can’t feel the good stuff either, like love, acceptance, belonging, and joy. (This stinks because it’s hardly living when you’re numb to the good stuff!) You can’t fine tune numbness. It’s a categorical deadening.

I can’t stress this enough: Don’t be a Zombie.

In the next post, I’ll share best practices for judo chopping numbness in the neck…and getting on with your best life. (Click the content link in the right sidebar to get that post zipped right to you.) 

Now you’ll like this! Check out what a good judo chop can do.

(photo source)

9/11; and the Interview & Confessions of a Funeral Director…

 

View my 3 Part video interview with Caleb here.

 

The 10th Anniversary of the 9/11 tragedy a week from this Sunday. We will once again see images and recount the horrors of that day, and try in memorial to accept the reality of this world. Most of us don’t encounter death and our own mortality too often. Most of us don’t constantly see suffering, and witness grief and loss.

Please take some time today, or this weekend to remember that the events of 9/11 still bring pain to many. Loved ones are missed, and we can’t gloss over the national tragedy that left a collective hole in our hearts, even ten years later.

This seems a fitting time to discuss an author who is very acquainted with death. It’s his job to be, and his perspective can be very helpful to us. As promised a couple of weeks earlier, the following is my personal interview with blogger and upcoming author Caleb Wilde, a 6th generation Funeral Director, seminary student, husband, and expectant adoptive dad.

My Questions for Caleb:

 

1. Being a 6th generation funeral director, you have quite a unique vantage point on life, loss, and mortality. How do you think you live life differently than other Christians because of where God has placed you?

 

Caleb: In traditional religious calendars, the day in-between “Good Friday” and “Easter” is called “Holy Saturday”.  “Holy Saturday” is the day the disciples’ hopes and beliefs were engulfed in death and silence, as they viewed their Messiah’s death without the knowledge of the resurrection.

In some sense, I live the life of Holy Saturday.

As funeral directors, we’re paid by families to be a human shield to death, whereby we make death somewhat easier, less real and more proper.  As this human shield, I’m affected.  I’m affected by the brokenness, by the grief, by the hopelessness I see in faces, by the newly fatherless/motherless children, the tragic deaths and the accidents.

All this has made my personal faith more sensitive to questions of God’s goodness and justice.  It’s not easy for me to understand ideas of “eternal hell”, or ideas of “meticulous divine providence” or even “absolute foreknowledge” or “omnipotence”.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m still a Christian.

 

2. What do people misunderstand most about your work?

Caleb: We’re a lot like pastors.  Our jobs are really quite similar, except that one is recognized as “ministry” while the other is “business.”  That’s probably the largest misconception … there’s no way funeral directors can meet with grieving families through the most difficult time of their lives and come out on the other side as “business people.”

Everything else is true, though … we are dark and we are odd people.

In ancient times, death practitioners were ostracized from normal society by rule.  Today, we’re partly ostracized from the norm of society by practice.

 

3. The constant stream of customers (people dying, and their families burying them) can make one grow numb or cold toward the concept and process of death and burial. Do things still surprise you or impact you? What kind of things?

Caleb: There’s something so unnatural about death that (save the very old) it’s difficult to become numb.

 

4. You’ve probably thought about what you’d want your own funeral to look and sound like. Can you tell us about that?

 

Caleb: About two years ago, I started taking one minute video clips of myself, so that by the time I’m 70, I should have a montage of age progression videos that can be used for my funeral.

I’ve also talked about recording a message from myself to my family and friends that could be shown at my funeral as the eulogy.  But, by the time I’m ready to die, I figure they’ll have holographic projections, so I’ll wait for that tech until I record my final goodbye.

 

5. The saddest funeral I ever went to was for a 13 year old boy who took his own life. What have you learned about people during the time of more tragic circumstances that you’ve been a part of?

 

Caleb: Funerals/death are a perfect storm: you have death, the inheritance money, high emotions and family you might not like too much who are around you all the time.

Funerals intensify people’s real character.  You see the best in people and you see the worst.  The bad people will do horrendous things at funerals, like start fights, curse out their family members over money.  And you can see Jesus in the good ones.

 

6. Do you find your work mostly depressing, hopeful, profound, mundane, etc.? Would you recommend this vantage point to others?

 

Caleb: It’s a tough ministry that has little boundaries.  Many funeral homes are also generational, so many of us work with our dads, grandfathers, uncles and cousins, which can make this at-need work that much more difficult to set up healthy boundaries.

Similar to any ministry, I think there should be a passion for death work … a calling of sorts, whereby you know this is what you’re supposed to do.  And being a “calling”, few have witnessed this vantage point.

It’s unique.

 

7. Do you want to stay in the family business? Why or why not?

Caleb: Next question : )

 

8. Tell us a bit about how you view suffering, pain, and death from your unique perspective…which probably has a lot to do with the message in your book.

 

Caleb: I’ve built my understanding of God around suffering, pain and death.  It’s a local theology.  And my understanding of God, suffering, pain and death in light of my faith is the content of my upcoming book, “Confessions of a Funeral Director.”  Hopefully, it will be out in less than a year.  You can get an idea of how death has affected my view of God at my blog, www.calebwilde.com.  My book, though, will contain much more narrative than my blog.

 

9. What’s your best idea for a Smart Phone app.?

 

Caleb: I live near Lancaster County (PA), home of the Amish and Mennonites, so there’s a lot of intermarrying in these parts.  Not to mention, most of the towns in the rural areas of Pennsylvania have families that have lived there for centuries, so many of them are related.

I have an idea to partner with Ancestry.com and create an app the lets you bump smart phones with another person and it will tell you how you’re related to them.  My theory is that this will greatly help the evolution of humans by creating a purer gene pool.   The apps name is “Bump it before you Hump it”.

 THANK YOU, Caleb, and best wishes on your book. I’m really excited to get a copy. 

The working title for Caleb’s book is Confessions of  Funeral Director. A bit more on that here.

So, my reader friends, what are you curious about? Ask Caleb your deep, dark, or even silly questions!

Emerging from Violent Illness

I have been so violently ill lately. A head cold, and little or no voice for about 8 days was followed with some wicked flu as a chaser. I think the worst is over, but I feel so wrung out.

I’ve composed a prayer for this time, and maybe it can be your prayer too, if you feel weak, depleted, or run down. Blessings to you. -Lisa

A Prayer for Help in Time of Weakness

Merciful God,

I lay weak in your hands, subdued by suffering.

My body aches, and I feel the remains of affliction.

Take up your child, dear God, and preserve me.

Renew my strength.

Pour into me your hope, and your power that I may return to health and wellness, in mind and body.

Your gifts are great, oh God.

And your righteousness endures forever.

Your compassion fails not, and we are cared for by your hand.

I love you.

Amen.

Shame and wanting to poking out your own eye

There’s a feeling you can get, after you’ve done something horrible. It’s so bad, that you might consider poking your own eye out (if for nothing else than a viable distraction.)

My first job (besides babysitting) was as a hostess at Eat’n Park Family Restaurant. A woman about 10  years older transferred there. She had been a waitress for a long time (even a decorated one. Yes, Eat’n Park is special like that.) She also had the name “Lisa,” just like me. That’s about all the ingredients needed for good communication and lasting friendship, right? um. No.
Background:
Sometimes I’d goof off and crack jokes in passing with Lisa. No big deal. (If you know me, this is all highly typical behavior.)
WELL-
One day, like a stoke of non genius, it came into my head to wisecrack when I noticed Lisa had a blue pen scribble on her forearm. I noticed it was actually a very sloppily rendered mark of her own name. The “L” was super long on the bottom, and not in a cursive way. It was just odd. It struck me as humorous. I already knew she had a 4 year old daughter. Her little girl had probably been playing with her waitressing pen and wrote out her mom’s name all by herself. Or maybe Lisa had done it–for a joke, or because she was bored. So, feeling my comic Einstein vibe coming on me (which is inversely proportionate to my rational thought and good judgment), I said–rather flippantly, I might ad–“Hey, what’s that on your arm? Is that so you don’t forget your name?”

Sudden. Dead. Powerful stare.
Awkward pause. I could hear a spider near the salad bar blink.
Then I noticed she had a sort of sad “How could you, you freaking jerk?” look on her tired face. (I picked up on that because I’m really good at feeling people out!)
It was a tattoo.
A horrible one.
A mistake.
Perhaps a drunk boyfriend or trashed stepdad scrawled it there. Who knows. But whatever the story was, it was part of a painful past. A past she did not want thrown in her face by some stupid and insensitive quip from a dumb teenager.
My heart froze with panic. It’s the kind of panic where you start to smell yourself. A cold sweat mustache erupts on your lip usually, too
.
Would she stab me with a steak knife?
Plan to burn me “accidentally” with a scrod entrée platter? (Wicked hot, they are!)
I fumbled around, and got out, “um… hahah… I’m just kidding.” I was trying desperately to appear nonchalant. I considered whistling a tune to prove it.
Still, she just looked at me–steadily.
“I’m sorry,” I said, getting up the nerve. It felt like a blanket of shame washed over me. Self-loathing–all over the place.
She shook it off, and went back to work. From then on I tried to be extraordinary nice to her, in every way I could think of. I bused her tables, and got her refreshing beverages, and tried to be as pleasant, and positive as I could. She didn’t hold it against me, beyond a day or so.
Once, after a 10p.m.-5 a.m. shift when my dad failed to pick me up, she even drove me home in her weary beater of a car.
I still wonder about her.
It was poke-your-eye-out shame.
I’ll never forget it.

Have you ever had “inner death by shame”? (you can just answer yes or no, unless you want to be brave and tell your story)