Awhile back, I wrote about how I had given up on a back pain forum because most of the conversation therein had to do with back pain.  That may sound odd, as back pain is what directed me to the forum.  But my intent was on getting helpful, upbeat information.  I had hoped to meet creative people who were living though their health issues with panache and pizzazz.  After weeks of giving the forum a try, I got sick of entries that seemed to wallow in infirmities rather than ride triumphantly above them!

Then, after a couple of months, I went back—just to see if anything had changed.  Am I ever glad I did, as there is now a daily contributor to the forum—an Englishman—who has made all the difference in the world, for me.  Now my forum excursions are a trip—and a delightful one at that.

This gentleman’s name is Rob, and he is a mental health nurse by profession—although he is currently unable to work.  Of all the regulars on the forum, he very obviously lives with the most challenging pain.  In a system where people wait and wait for their surgeries, he is patiently waiting and making do with prescription meds and whatever activity he can tolerate. 

Along with updates on his health issues Rob sometimes posts clips from various URLS which the reader can access:  U-Tube presentations and informational websites on the British countryside, customs, festivals, agriculture, etc.  Rob frequently describes the countyside around his home, his ancient nearby village, and the age-old local customs.  These ”trips” through England are truly theraputic for me, reminding me of 1993 when Joe and I toured 2200 miles of Scottish, English, and Welsh country roads while staying at sheep farms along the way.

Rob’s contribution to the forum proves a case in point, dear to my heart:  that understanding an ailment is important, acknowledging an issue matters, and sharing with others who experience similar symptoms can be helpful—BUT after understanding, acknowledging, and sharing, the best medicine is to fill one’s heart and mind with something wonderful.  Creative hobbies, joy in the world of nature around us, music, books, gardens, yummy recipes, travel talk, pets, cyber resources—all of these are “the best medicine”.

I will add “visits with friends” to the above list, providing the friends are upbeat.  Yet finding upbeat conversation among people my age is a challenge in itself.  Many of my contemporaries can talk only of bodily ills—not only their own, but the health problems of everyone else they know.  This makes me want to scream.  I try to introduce a creative topic, with a “come on” such as, “What are you making these days?” or “What are you reading?”  But many of the oldies I know would rather talk about malfunctioning bodies. 

If you hear a shrieky/screechy noise issuing out of a condo in Southeastern Wisconsin—over the highways in all direction, maybe even to Iowa and Minnesota—it’s simply me screaming, after fruitlessly trying to steer a social conversation in my living room to something (ANYTHING!) fun, nostalgic, creative, informative, upbeat, charming, and beautiful. 

A little creativity, please! 

Margaret L. Been, ©2012

. . . a healthy, Happy New Year! 

Pictured above you will see our 2 new family members gained in the last 3 weeks:  Baby Mia born on 12/11/11 to Adam and Tracy Valentine, and our new son-in-law, Sanmi, who married our daughter, Martina on 12/30/11.  Congratulations to the Valentines, and to Mr. and Mrs. Sanmi Adesokun.  You can check out more about the wedding on http://hiswordistrue.wordpress.com/  .

At the moment I am counting 48 family members including Joe and me, children and their spouses, grandchildren and their spouses, and great-grandchildren.  Talk about overflowing cups!

See you next year! 

Margaret L. Been, 2011

Star Shadows 

 Tiny child, lost in sleep—

  inexorable sleep

winged on Hebrew lullaby . . . 

 Did one small hand emerge in sleep 

 from swaddling cloth,

 a tiny starhand

  turning under stable-filtered light

 of greater star?

  And did that greater star

 spill shadows on a mother’s pondering?

 As she grasped the starhand, did she see

 a shadow path from Heaven

 to Calvary?

 ©Margaret Longenecker Been

I believe I’ve made my last foray into the Back Pain Forum which I’ve visited online in recent months.  Initially, this forum was a valuable information resource when I needed it—before and after spinal fusion surgery.  It was good to connect with others who had gone that route.  After all, one doesn’t attend a tea party or coffee morning and begin the conversation with, “Have you ever had a Posterior Lumbar Interbody Fusion including a plastic cage and titanium screws?”  Or “What is your most effective post-op pain killer?”

I’ve graduated from the forum, because it has deteriorated to a mutual pity party.  People who were well informed on medical issues have left, and the remaining folks simply like to talk about their suffering—along with many other disasters which are unfortunately occurring in their lives.  The women complain about their husbands, and the men poke fun at their wives.  No thank you.  None of that appeals to me!

There are various threads on this forum:  one for actual medical issues, another for non medical stuff such as hobbies and pets, and a couple more which focus on recipes and natural therapies.  Moving from the medical thread to the other options seemed like it would be fun, but alas—the same people are discussing their same pain, drugs, and personal gripes on the allegedly upbeat threads.  Evidently complaining is a popular hobby!

Conversely I have friends (online as well as in “real life”) who experience pain and/or illness, yet choose to “accentuate the positive”.  These friends—plus my daily agenda of knitting, painting, piano playing, reading, soapmaking, etc.—provide ongoing therapy! 

Along with prescribed medication, a light diet, and reasonable exercise, art is one of my very favorite therapies.  I can paint sitting or standing, whichever the body requires at the moment.  (Freezing any body position or doing one motion for too long at a spell are both difficult for me.)  The joy of seeing wet paint spread on wet paper surmounts a lot of physical discomfort.  I frequently get up and paint at night, whenever lying in bed becomes too much of a challenge. 

The above rendering, titled “Lost Canyon of the Ancients”, is the product of a restless night.  Better than a “forum”!

Margaret L.Been, ©2011

NOTE:  for more about my nocturnal art adventures, see http://northernview.wordpress.com/  (THE MESSY PALETTE)

Winter is moving in, ahead of the calendar date.  This is “business as usual” in Wisconsin.  We normally have several extra weeks of winter before the December solstice and way after the March equinox.

Winter is beautiful.  Although I no longer “play outside” like I did for many decades, I still appreciate the winter landscape.  Winter walking is a bit treacherous here, on icy paths, but we have a sunny spot by our garage—sheltered from the North wind.  Here Joe and I can sit even on very cold days while our Pembroke Welsh corgi, Dylan, bops around beside us in his little play yard. 

Winter provides extra hobby time, especially when one lives in a compromised body.  I no longer drive across town to some event that I might have attended in the past.  The necessary pain meds limit my driving time and distance.  This equates to many more relaxing hours at home for painting, knitting, playing the piano, reading, blogging, entertaining family members and friends, and simply celebrating the wonder of being alive!  

I have the magnificent option of saying “NO”.  How about you?  Have you discovered the joys of a limited lifestyle?  What are your favorite winter pastimes?  Please share!

Meanwhile, I’m so grateful!

Margaret L. Been, ©2011

Note:  Here is one more inspirational blog, written by another woman who is happily mining treasures in illness and pain –   http://agirlandherbrush:wordpress.com/

When our grandsons were born in Colorado, I was invited to visit there and assist with routine household tasks for a few days.  Our Denver son and his wife are members of a congenial church where, as in my own church, people are always available to bring meals.  Each night we enjoyed a fine home cooked meal complete with dessert, delivered by different ladies in the church. 

A new mom has plenty to occupy her time with a baby to care for; so meals prepared by someone else are generally a treat!  Also, new parents normally welcome a chance to visit with friends, as they proudly show them that tiny wonder which they have just produced!

When a mother or dad is ill, injured, or recovering from surgery, “meals on wheels” can also be a lifeline.  Children still need to eat.  A good church fellowship fills the food gap, especially in situations where the children are too young to take over in the kitchen. 

But in families with older children, or homes with only a husband and wife, the benefits of meals brought to one’s door are questionable and vary with persons.  Some individuals love company and activity going on around them—even when they feel lousy.  These socially minded souls may thrive on having someone pop in with food—or even just pop in to visit! 

Other individuals, including myself, need solitude.  We dearly love people, but we must also have some space around our lives.  In any kind of crisis, the need for solitude grows.  When I’m physically compromised, it’s heaven on earth for me to just be alone with my husband and family members.  It takes every ounce of energy I have to deal with an emergency or health challenge.  I simply do not have any energy left over for extra contacts, even brief “drop ins”, during the first days of an illness or emergency.  

There is nothing profoundly difficult about opening a salad bag, slicing an apple, and sticking a MARIE CALLANDER® pot pie in the oven—or for that matter, slapping a chuck roast in the crock pot for a 10 hour simmer.  These little chores provide an atmosphere of normality, so crucial in emergencies.  A few household duties keep me feeling productive.  When I’m totally “down and out”, family members prevail. 

Along with food delivery, a lengthy phone conversation is more social contact than we solitude lovers desire in times of crisis.  A brief call asking if we need anything (either food or a service of some sort) is certainly in order.  We love our friends, and truly appeciate their involved concern!  And what always works for us?  MAIL!  Nothing is more welcome than a personal note or email in time of need.

Obviously there are exceptions to all of the above observations.  If a person has no close family nearby, outside helpers are needed.  For the rest of us, there are times when a garage needs to be swept—or some household task demands attention—and our family members might already be fully occupied with helping.  Then an outside volunteer can be an “angel unawares”! 

Years ago, my husband spent 5 weeks in the cardiac unit of a hospital and I spent nearly every day at his side.  At night I stayed at a guest house near the hospital, where I could be on call.  It was hot midsummer the day Joe was scheduled to come home.  A friend called and asked if she could do something, in preparation for the homecoming.  I thought it would be nice if the windows were opened, to freshen our rooms.  Since my friend lived close to our home I mentioned that idea, and told her where to find a key. 

When we arrived home later in the day, the windows were wide open—and the curtains were waving gently in freshly aired rooms.  I cried with joy, to discover a vase full of meadow flowers on our dining room table.  My friend intuitively knew what would mean a lot to both Joe and me!

It helps to remember that not all people are alike.  Some folks crave constant social contacts, while others of us need quiet, creative time.  Some love to listen to people chatter, while others prefer listening to the wind and rain.  I’m in the “wind and rain” category; however, I do thrive on hearing children talk and banter about!  Children renew rather than deplete my energy bank!

While some individuals enjoy having the world at their door, and others prefer the companionship of a family member and a dog or cat, it’s always a good plan to call first—to make sure a food delivery is really needed.  Also, it’s good when meals have been coordinated so that the volunteer chefs are not all fixing the same dish.

The results of failing to coordinate can be hilarious.  After a major surgery in 1983 I was treated to 7 lasagnas—each in a 9 X 13 inch pan, within a 10 day period.  Obviously a sick woman eats very little.  As for my husband and the small child we still had at home, they got a bit “fed up” with lasagna as well. 

Margaret L. Been, ©2011

The handsome gentleman pictured above is my dad, Ernst Longenecker.  The portrait was taken in the 1940s.  I think most everyone who knew him smiles over memories of this man.  He was an individual!  He was a mechanical engineer by degree, an industrial designer and manager, an inventor, a wonderful father, and a mellow story-teller.  Dad had a passion for life.  His enthusiasm influenced many people who knew him.

When Dad was 88 years old, I asked him if he attended the Retired Men’s Club at his church.  Dad’s answer was classic:  “I’m not about to hang around with those old geezers!”

Dad lived until age 102.  His last years were marked by an increasingly painful arthritis which slowed him down, physically.  But he loved books, and continued reading until just after his 101th birthday.  Suddenly his eyes would no longer focus, and the absence of reading broke his heart. 

My dad had a pet peeve:  people who spoke condescendingly to senior citizens.  He used to say (rather vehemently!) “Don’t call me ‘spry‘, and don’t call me ‘sprightly‘! “  My husband and I chuckle every time we mention those words. 

Why are some individuals young at 95 and others seem old by the time they reach 60?  Health often plays a role, yet I’ve known people with frail health who maintain that life affirming vitality to the very end.  Both of my grandmothers were youthful until they died, in their late 80s.  One suffered from arthritis (my dad’s mother) and the other had serious cardiac issues.  Neither of them let health issues interfere with their joy in living.  They were Christian women who knew where they were ultimately going, and had a lot of fun on earth in the meantime.

The common denominator in every person I know of who lives a vibrant old age is PASSION!  A passion for some thing, or things, motivates us when everything else hurts.  Dad loved travel, and when his body no longer traveled he continued to travel via books.  He was passionate about new discoveries and technologies.  He read THE WALL STREET JOURNAL assiduously, and he always seemed to know things the rest of us wouldn’t realize until years later.  Dad lived on the “cutting edge”.

In the 1950s, when many of us were cluelessly puffing and inhaling away on our cigarettes, Dad began sending me clippings (from the above mentioned news source) linking smoking with lung cancer and other respiratory ailments.  While most of my friends were still smoking, I experientially understood the dangers of tobacco.  In 1963 I quit smoking and never looked back.

One incident involving my father looms large.  When our 1st child was a toddler, she fell against a space heater and burned both hands.  Laura’s fingers curled as she screamed with pain.  Without hesitating, Dad sprang from his chair, picked Laura up, and rushed to the sink where he poured cold water from the tap on Laura’s hands.  He held her hands under the cold water for many minutes.  Finally, he turned the water off.  Laura was peaceful and comfortable, and her burns never ever blistered.  This, in an era where most of us were still putting grease on burns!

In the 1970s, Dad got very excited.  He told me that someday infinited amounts of information would be contained in a little “chip” about the size of his thumbnail.  Quite frankly, I thought my father had crossed the line into science fiction.  But he had such a glow in his eyes, when he talked about an “information revolution”.  Today I recall that conversation frequently, whenever I load the photos from my camera chip into my computer, or when Joe’s cardiac technician holds a little disc in front of Joe’s chest where a pace maker/defibrillator is installed to record the activities of his heart.

A passion for living!  A passion for learning and a love of creative pursuits—as many as possible for as long as possible!  My body is following the course set for me by my dad and his mother.  I have inherited the orthopedic issues—disintegrating bones and arthritis which is becoming more pronounced, painful, and physically limiting every year.  But I’ve also inherited the passion gene.  With books, a computer, a piano, knitting supplies, and art paraphernalia at my finger tips my body doesn’t need to be an athletic wonder.

Meanwhile, I like to dress up in fun and funky attire, drape beads around my neck, and plug the holes—2 in each ear—with gems and dangles.  Just this morning, my loving and admiring husband said, “Oh my, you look spry and sprightly!”

I don’t mind those adjectives one bit! 

Margaret L. Been, ©2011

“A little learning is a dangerous thing; 
Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian* spring:
There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain,
And drinking largely sobers us again.”

Alexander Pope 1688-1744

*In Greek Mythology the Pierian Spring of Macedonia was sacred to the muses.  Throughout Western history the term “Pierian Spring” has been used as a metaphor for the source of knowledge of art and scicnce.  As Christians we know the true Source of art and science, yet a grasp of symbols in classic literature enhances our understanding.

In the words, “. . . drink deep or taste not”, Pope refers to superficial knowledge devoid of profound understanding—the difference between dalliance and immersion in most any aspect of learning and life.  In the book of Proverbs, this difference embodies the dichotomy between a “fool” and a “man of wisdom”. 

I memorized the above quote by Alexander Pope years ago, in college.  The words have come back to me countless times over the decades—as a reminder to quiet down and grow inside, as well as a checkmate on my fallen human proclivity for presumptuous words and deeds. 

There is a fine line between superficial knowledge and profound understanding.  The line may not be always apparent; indeed we want to believe that everyone we meet will present a deeper understanding.  But that is simply not so!  Times of crisis delineate, and we realize the dichotomy as it is evident in the responses of other people around us. 

A friend recently told me of a tragedy in her next door neighbor’s home, where an infant had died.  My friend visited the home, and later described the scenario to me.  She said something like, “I just sat quietly and held the father’s hand.  Yet, people were talking!  I couldn’t believe it.  People were talking.”

When living an ongoing crisis of illness or pain we sometimes encounter that same kind of insensitivity.  The line between knowledge and understanding is evident in the various people we meet.  Obviously, we do not want to be surrounded by gloomy faces.  Cheerful individuals are good medicine when they possess an intrinsic understanding of whom we are and where we are, although they may not have been there themselves.

Conversely we’re wounded when people around us Breeze, Bluster, and Blurt—saying whatever pops into their head while making light of our concerns and reservations as if those reservations were not absolutely essential to our survival.   

Unfortunately some individuals project a flippant “Oh, just do this and don’t do that” mentality.  Perhaps they think they are being theraputically “cheerful”, but in fact they are downright clueless.  They have knowledge without understanding; they’ve never crossed the line between superficial and profound.  They’ve never purposed to “drink deep”.   

To the Christian believer, a life crisis is “Holy Ground”.  Spiritually, God ”speaks” to us through the crisis—profoundly applying our knowledge of His Word to the very depths of our souls.  A sensitive onlooker will understand the significance of Holy Ground.  Metaphorically speaking, he will take off his shoes and quietly draw alongside us wherever we may be.  He will not burden us with heavy gloom; yet he will not invade or invalidate our circumstances by “making light” in his conversation or prayers.  The sensitive person has crossed that fine line!  

 Margaret L. Been, ©2011

“The better to see you with, my dear—and my roast pork dinner, and the autumn leaves, and the fine print in my dictionary.”

This week I’m having cataract surgery on my right eye; the left eye is scheduled to be fixed in 2 weeks.  This is the world’s most simple surgery.  If it weren’t for the knock out med given for the procedure, one could drive home from it.

Soon, I’ll be able to say, “THE BETTER TO SEE YOU WITH, MY DEAR”, in a bold font—and read it easily as well!

Margaret L. Been

After weeks of deliberation on my part, I had decided to eliminate Riches in Glory because of all my sites, this is the one with very few readers—whereas the other four webpages are frequently visited.   I figured the other sites would be a place to say whatever I need to say.   I went through the hoops to delete a webpage, and nothing ever happened.  Maybe I missed a “hoop”; I am still a bit cyber-clueless.  But Riches in Glory is still here.

Since then I’ve had input from Riches in Glory readers (I only know of three who consistently hit this page—and two of these are out-of-state readers), and now I’m pondering something I’ve always realized:  that if even one person is impacted by a piece of writing, that writing has a purpose. 

I’m not “letting off steam” in this blog.  I’m sharing things that have greatly inspired, seriously disturbed, or spiritually imprinted me at a special time when my husband and I live with unique daily challenges.  Countless others experience these challenges in one form or another.  Those of us who cope with a chronic illness or pain all know what it’s like to be bombarded by misunderstandings, presumptions, and declarations of what we should or should not do. 

Frequently the misunderstandings come from people who’ve never had to realize that an ailment is simply not going to go away.  Undoubtedly, they have had bouts of acute illness or pain—but it has never dawned on them that they would not recover, or that the challenge would never go away.  Thus the word “chronic” has no meaning for them.  They’ve never been dissolved to a jelly, by physical issues that just won’t quit; thus they believe they can make proclamations and pontifications about a lifestyle they’ve never even considered. 

Sometimes the chronically healthy folks believe that we want to have issues, and that we could just “think them away” if we so desired.  These well meaning folks forget (or never knew) that we live on a fallen planet, and that bodies as well as souls are flawed due to man’s fall.  We have a way back to GRACE through the shed blood of our Lord Jesus Christ at Calvary.  He heals our souls, but occasionally His wisdom allows us to continue our lives in compromised physical bodies.  God has promised “Riches in Glory” for His children, and spiritual riches now—but He has not promised material blessings or prime health in this dispensation of time on planet earth.

Physical challenges require discipline in both the treatment of our bodies and the maintenance of our souls.  Simply treating the body and learning to live with a health issue can consume just about all we have.  Living with the insuing “people challenges” may shove us over the cliff, if we are not God focused and supportive of each other.

People who are challenged tend to sometimes feel that they are alone.  But we are not alone!  We have each other, and most importantly God is here for us when we know Him and cry out to him.  If only three or five people per week read this blog and realize that they are not alone, that’s reason enough to continue sharing the experiences God brings me through—and the Riches in Glory available to all who trust in Him.

So now I’m making changes in the changes.  The book may be forthcoming someday.  Meanwhile, I’m still on board at http://richesinglory.wordpress.com/  .   And remember, we are never alone! 

Margaret L. Been