amber rahim

Chronic illness: the parts we don't talk about


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The Art of Lego: (re)visited

A while ago I wrote about the Art of the Brick exhibition. I couldn’t decide if we should go or not.

Well, we went.

It was really great. It’s amazing to see these great pieces of art and sculpture. My thoughts flitted between “oh, so that’s how you do it” (to recreate The Scream with lego) to “how will I ever be satisfied by my own creations ever again?”

S didn’t break any pieces but she did hug the lego man in the play area at the end. And started to build onto him (well, they put lego there to play with! it was hard to stop her).

F loved it. She listened to the audio tapes about the artwork for every piece. Well, she certainly used the device and entered the number for each piece, I don’t know how much of the recording she actually paid attention to.

Sometimes you just need to stop thinking and go and do what your heart desires.

photo-3S is at that age when she really wants to see the picture you have taken, and comes to look before I have even taken the picture. But trust me, it was really cute to see her hug this lego man.

 


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The blessings of tragedy

Last night I had an opportunity to get to know some fabulous women a little better.

As we each took turns sharing something about ourselves it struck me that there was something we had in common: a pivotal moment of hardship. Something happened that made us re-evaluate our lives.

The result? We became women who choose what we want in our lives.

Consciously choosing to spend our time on things that give us energy.

And possibly more importantly, choosing what we don’t want.

Someone expressed what I secretly hope to achieve with my new business: “I only work with people that I want to work with”. How amazing is that? Thank you for your inspiration, this is what I want to be able to say.

As for the rest of my life, I have been working towards this too.  My life is not filled with lots of people, but the ones who are in it are important to me, that love me and I love them.

The precious time that I have, I want to use for them (and it is precious. About 25% of my waking hours are spent on being a carer).

So the blessing of my tragedy of chronic illness is that I know that time is precious. I don’t waste it. (much)

Now, look back to my 20s I wonder what I was doing with my time and I realise that a I was doing a lot of “filling it”. How tragic.

So now, like the ladies I met last night, I am consciously choosing, fitting the important things in first. And trying not to fill all the gaps in the jar with sand – but trying to leave empty spaces where the air can get in and I can breathe.

for-web-Big-Things-First

thanks Christi for the image

 

p.s while I was looking for images I came across this. Just love it.

buy the damn shoes

 


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“I’m going to runaway!”

Sometimes I let circumstances get the better of me. It happened this week. The details contributing to my mini meltdown are not relevant – could anything justify me exclaiming “that’s it, Im running away!”?

This post is about about what happened next.

run_away

The other day I was feeling pretty lost, tired and steadily being driven nuts by F’s constant interfering in everything I was doing (J, the irony is not lost on me. Taste of my own medicine? Absolutley).

I snapped. I told her I was going to run away. She replied “go on then” (small side note, I am incredibly proud of her response to me).

So that was the start of our role reversal and then this happened…

“If you stop being cross and say sorry then I want you to stay” said F.

…and the role reversal was complete.

My little F, not yet 7, is more mature than I am.

I don’t know what got into me (but there is a definite yearning for some peace, as in, alone time) yet I am grateful that F is so wise, compassionate and willing to stand up to her mum and call me on my silly behaviour.

My conclusion? Our children are better than us.

Yet I don’t feel better than my parents. What’s that about? Am I just at that stage in life where I am stuck in the middle, looking at the greatness that surrounds me? Feeling inadequate, hoping that I am not doing too much damage. Holding on to the idea that “what doesn’t break you, makes you stronger”. (be grateful kids, you’re going to be superheros when you grow up!)

Then we had the most wonderful conversation. We heard each other, we made agreements. We hugged.

Maybe F realises that I am only human. Actually, I think she always knew and loves me anyway. It is I who keeps forgetting my own humanity. Now to start loving myself anyway.

 


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Ooh wish I was a cat


I’m taking a break this week.  I am tired, pleasantly tired . Oh and replacing the kitchen so the house is a mess.

If any of you know where to get one of these for humans (not an ordinary hammock but just like this and especially with the fluffy lining) don’t tell me where I can get one, just send one to me. Please.

image

Chilled out CPCC


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It’s all about you

I have to confess, I have been freaking out about my final exam (to become a certified professional coach). I had a fantastic idea to prepare by coaching my own coach. Wow, I was so intimidated that I almost became petrified. This is what was going on in my head: “How dare you think that you can coach this wonderful, amazing woman who has been a fundamental support in everything you have done in the last year?”

I wanted the experience to be amazing for her, I wanted to give her what she has given me. Piling on all these expectations I created such stress for myself that it was almost impossible to speak. While all this was going on in my head, she was fine. She was a great client; open, daring, ready.

It was the best thing I could have done. I learnt what happens when you let your saboteur rule your life; it paralyses you and make you miss what is right in front of you.

She told me:

“It’s not about you or your exam. It’s about the client. Coaching is always about the client”.

You see our examiners are real people with real topics. They sign up for coaching, not just to assess our abilities.

These words helped me to shift my focus from a desire to prove what I know, the skills that I have learnt, into a relaxed state of curiosity about them.

Who is this person and what do they really want?

What do they believe? Is that belief holding them back?

What do they feel? What are they not allowing themselves to feel?

I enjoyed my exam. I met two amazing people and I got curious about them. From that curiosity I slipped into the coaching, like I was gliding through the air, floating. I used the skills I had been taught and some shifts occurred, some kind of transformation.

Now it was only 15 mins of coaching for each client and I will never get to follow up with them. I will never know what happened next. But my intuition tells me something significant happened for them. Now it is up to them to do something with it.

I have to wait a couple of weeks to find out if I passed my exam and I am ok with that. I am still be on this happy cloud of completion; I got here and I did it. The overwhelming feeling I have is satisfaction.

Satisfaction for good coaching.

Satisfaction that I did it. I studied, practised and I did the exam.

Satisfaction that I put aside my saboteur, that voice of doubt and criticism and didn’t try too hard. I trusted myself and my training and danced in the moment.

In this contented state I have been wondering how this event in my life is connected to the bigger picture and to all of you out there who struggle daily with chronic illness, parenting, life. All of you who, at the end of every day, can say “I did it, I lived today.” Deep in my heart is the realisation that this is what we all do: we have ambitions and challenges and we work towards a goal. Sometimes that goal is like the one above, to be competent at my job and really know what I am doing. Sometimes that goal is to get through the day without shouting at my kids. Sometimes the goal can just be to get dressed (my crazy loon friend, you know I’m talking about you again don’t you?). These challenges, pressures, make us stronger, make us who we are.

I found this on Facebook (thanks Ute from expatsincebirth) and it describes how I feel about you guys.

DiamondDedicated to Yasmine, you have always been precious.  The heat is on and we can see you transforming before our eyes.

 


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David (us) Vs Goliath (Health Insurance Co.) or The whims of change

Back in September 2013 I wrote this post Stupid insurance company, now I need to do press ups for my fingers (go on and click, it’s a short one and it without reading it this post might not make sense).

Well, after finally building up the strength in my fingers to get them super strong (I now have hands like a giant), we are back to the original, easy snap version of these tablets.

So how were we able to defeat the bureaucracy of these insurance giants with their “No! No! No!”?

What amazing feats of ingenuity and persistence did we employ to be able to get these tablets?

Well, I’ll tell you.

One day, J mentioned to the pharmacist (different person, different establishment) that it was a shame that we couldn’t get the original tablets anymore.

 

That’s it. That’s ALL we did.

The lovely person behind the counter said “if you want those tablets, you can have them”.

We did not question they whimsy of this process, we just took the tablets and ran.

Final word:

It’s funny how easy life can feel when a seemingly small irritation is removed. It’s a funny truth of the world that small irritations are only small if they happen just once.