Difficult Seasons

I’ve been writing about self care.  You might want to look at this and also this as background.

We live near an elementary school.  So when I step out on the back porch during the day, I’m often greeted by the shrill delight of school children enjoying recess.  I suspect some of the activities are organized games, as the sounds I hear are cheers.  Other times, I’m pretty sure it’s just kids doing what they do at recess, and expressing their joy at the fun they’re having together on a break from the serious stuff they’ve been focused on in the classroom.

A couple of things generally occur to me as I listen to them.

1.  The noise coming from the school playground can best be described as pure joy.  They’re having fun, and they’re expressing their joy with squeals and screams and they’re loud about it.

2.  I find myself wondering why they get to have recess, but the rest of us don’t.

I remember recess.  It was a long, long time ago, and my memory is not the kind that generally remembers specific details.  But I remember recess, both in my early school years in Abilene and later elementary years in Sioux City.  In fact, as I try to remember my elementary years, specific memories can probably be counted on both hands — and recess pictures are about a third of the total.  It was that important.  I’ll bet if you just close your eyes for a moment, you’ll be able to remember recess too!

So if recess was that important, why isn’t it still important?  Why does recess end with elementary school.  Does the need for recess end?  Does the value of recess end?  I don’t think so.

Just because attention span increases a little, and our ability to sit still increases (again a little), our need for breaks that that make us squeal with joy don’t end.  But seemingly, we’ve structured life as if it did.

As part of good self care, I’m challenging myself — and you — to re-establish recess in our lives.

So if we’re going to re-establish recess, what are some of the ground rules?

1. Recess is something we have to do with other people.
2. Recess has to be doing something that brings squeals of joy, of delight.
3. Recess has to be fun.
4. Recess has to occur daily.

Since it’s been a long time since I’ve been part of recess, maybe you can help me think of some ways we can have recess now.  Comments are open!

I experienced a loss last week that I had been dreading for several years — the loss of a tooth.

It’s not the first tooth I’ve lost.  Long years ago, I lost two molars and had a bridge put in.  That’s one of the reasons I dreaded losing a molar on the other side.  While the bridge has held up well, it’s not like having real teeth (or at least crowns on real teeth).  And of course, there’s also the expense of the required dental work which only adds to the sense of loss.

We had known that the tooth was on it’s last legs for several years.  The crown had come off twice in the last three years, each time taking a part of what remained of the tooth with it.  My dentist warned me the last time that the repair wouldn’t last long — actually suggesting it would probably be only weeks or a few months.  But I did what I could to keep it going, and it held together for about 20 months.

So the loss was not unexpected.  I just wasn’t ready for it to happen.  I wasn’t ready to lose the tooth, to encounter the discomfort of the dental procedure to provide a substitute, or to pay for the dental procedure.

But I didn’t get to choose when it happened (I’d have chosen never).  On a day like any other day, the crown and part of the tooth just came off.

Today I spent time in the dentist’s chair.  The procedure wasn’t as uncomfortable as I had feared, due to a very competent dentist.  The price tag was worse than I expected, as it always seems to be.

I know I’ll heal from the discomfort of the extraction and the soreness from the needle sticks and jaw soreness from having my mouth strained, and that my new bridge will probably provide a better chewing experience than I’ve had in a while.  But I’m still feeling the loss.

So, if you’ve held on this far, you’ve probably guessed that I’m now going to tell you that this loss parallels other losses we suffer in life.  And you’re right.  Here are five common aspects of loss:

1. Knowing that we’re going to suffer a loss doesn’t lessen the impact of the actual loss.  There may not be the shock of unexpectation — but knowing it’s going to happen doesn’t make the actual loss less important.  It’s not a relief — it’s a loss.
2. Even when we’re expecting a loss, we can’t predict exactly when it will happen.  Expertise can give us an estimate, but it’s just that.  In this case, the loss came later that estimated.  Sometimes it comes sooner.
3. We’re never ready to experience loss, even if we know it’s going to happen.
4. Things are never the same after a loss.  We will heal, and we will do fine with the new situation.  But it won’t be the same as before.
5. And previous losses impact how this loss will impact us.  Losses have a cumulative effect on us, and with subsequent losses, the earlier losses have to be dealt with again.