BE YOUR OWN CHEERLEADER
IT SMELLS LIKE MENTHOL, PERHAPS SOME SPEARMINT, AND A HINT OF SOME UNDISTINGUISHABLE HERB. A TINY VIAL OF SOME ESSENTIAL OIL ON MY COFFEE TABLE. A LOVING REMINDER.
WET NOSE
The first person to casually mention to me that my sinuses were “oddly shaped” was my orthodontist when I was 13. He had taken an X-ray of my face to get me fitted for braces. There wasn’t a severe problem really. The only consequence is that when my allergies strike, I am prone to congestion, strange migraine-like headaches, and a seemingly endless use of tissue. Actually, when I was a child living with my parents and my two brothers, I learned to just have an entire roll of toilet paper next to me at all times because of the constant dripping and sneezing. This happened so often that it was enough to bug my older brother, almost 2 years my senior. To this day, he remembers the used tissues and my “annoying” congested sounding voice. I remember thinking, “I CAN’T HELP IT! If I could change this very disruptive nuisance I would.” Also, it was pretty easy to get on each others nerves in a 2 bedroom apartment with 3 boys and 2 adults.
As I got older, I learned that anti-histamines work fine, I simply have to take them for a short period of time while I have symptoms. It wasn’t until I started religiously taking spin classes or running that I figured out that cardiovascular exercises also alleviated my symptoms. I thought maybe running outside would exacerbate my runny yet congested nose, but in fact, it temporarily improved my symptoms during the run. It wouldn’t make the problem go away after the run but it also didn’t get any worse. I could breathe freely while running. No feelings of congestion. It was great. Another perk running brought into my life.
PLANT FAMILY
Usually my sleep suffers when I’m congested. I wake up with a strange feeling in the back of my head and do not feel refreshed the next morning while I have symptoms. This week, when I woke up feeling like a blockhead, I strapped on my running shoes and went on an 11 mile run. It did the trick. My symptoms improved slightly but did not go away. The next day, I took another anti-histamine and felt a bit better which was good timing since my parents and I were set to visit the Garfield Park Conservatory. A beautiful living plant exhibit near my apartment. My parents were in town visiting “the big city” and I thought it would be a perfect place to show them. They rarely come to visit me despite the fact that they live a little over an hour away. I’m not mad about it. We’re all adults with our own lives and truth be told I rarely go into the suburbs where they live. I grew up there, and I left for a reason. Every time I’m in my home town, I am reminded of a past self, of my parents, of a different life, of a dreaded, stifling suburban life. It did not take long for me to be reminded about that life once my parents sat down to chat before we left for the Conservatory. Within 10 minutes of my parents sitting on my couch, our conversation lead to the same topics that are always discussed whenever we visit one another. I think my family has a difficult time with casual perhaps even frivolous conversation. I am this way as well. I can’t do small talk. This is good and bad. The good is that every conversation is usually more meaningful and heavy, the bad is that every conversation is more meaningful and heavy. Unfortunately, the meaningful topics of choice from my parents are rarely smiles and sun shine. They usually revolve around unfounded worry, crippling humility, and “what if” situations.
Seeing my mother already in tears no later than 15 minutes after catching up on each others lives, I decided to put my foot down. I decided to not so delicately declare today to be a day of happy conversation and experiences. “We are going to the Conservatory and getting lunch on this beautiful Chicago, summer’s day for crying out loud!” I mean, please no crying out loud. Not today. We abruptly shifted gears after my out burst but for the next 4 hours, no one was really at ease. When they left my place, I felt relief. This feeling of relief for my parents leaving was only met by sadness and guilt for feeling relieved that they were gone. All that was left behind was the new plant we purchased and the vial of essential oil that my mother brought me. Once they left I was a bit upset that after not seeing each other for months our encounter ended up the way it did. I wanted to wallow but instead I took some pre-workout, went to the gym, lifted for an hour and did intervals for 20 minutes (2 miles) on the treadmill.
MOTHERLY INTUITION
When I got home from the gym, feeling like myself again I picked up the vial of essential oil. A gift I would never have expected from my mother. I hadn’t mentioned my sinusitis. I didn’t converse with them on the phone lately. I didn’t even know she was into essential oils. Without any current background information she somehow knew the same way mothers ALWAYS KNOW. She sensed that my nose was a dripping mess as it so often was when I was a kid. I followed her instruction and rubbed a few dabs under my nose before bed.
The next morning, I slept like I hadn’t slept in days! I actually felt refreshed physically. This newborn feeling I felt was thanks to my mother. Before I allowed guilt and dark feelings to surface, I decided to not beat myself up too much about our somewhat tumultuous reunion. I decided on my next visit to their home I will exercise more patience and caring for my mother. I know that she and my father love me deep down even though I sometimes feel like they may not say the right thing or they may not say what I want them to say. There is love there. Everyone has their own lives, their own problems, their own goals and dreams, including my parents. I can’t expect anyone to behave in a way that I made up in my mind. I can’t expect that from anyone.
The lesson being that we cannot expect our friends, lovers, partners, family, whomever to uplift us. Yes, encourage others, yes gas up people you care about - this costs zero dollars. Ultimately though, we should be proud of our own achievements. It is not someone else’s responsibility for your happiness. Pat YOURSELF on the back for your accomplishments and don’t expect it from anyone else. Other’s are living their own lives, I’m trying my best to understand that. I can’t shoulder the burdens that my mother carries, but I can listen, I can encourage, I can be patient, and if I don’t feel it is reciprocated, that’s quite all right. I am proud of where I’m headed, I am proud of my accomplishments - I got myself. However, I will keep in mind that my mother’s caring and love has helped me breathe a little easier and allowed me to get a good nights rest. Gracias mama. Te quiero.
