So not the Eveready Bunny Anymore!

By Catherine Bryson

“You can’t pour from an empty cup,” said Dr. Melanie Badali, during her presentation of the 2023 NSCR workshop ‘Clarifying and Communicating Healthy Boundaries.’

Wise words indeed, and sage advice, for any caregiver on the caregiving ‘roller coaster ride.’ This shortish post aims to deal with the topic of Caregiver Burnout. It is actually a topic near and dear to my heart, as I suffer from fatigue myself. My wish is that by writing this, you, the reader, will recognize your symptoms and get help. If you suspect you or someone you love has Caregiver Burnout, then read on. (Of course, see your doctor if the fatigue is more intense, or is accompanied by other symptoms.)

Let me tell you a story to illustrate my point.

When I was a little girl, I lived in a French village in the Dordogne region of France: famous for, among other things, fois gras (goose liver pâté, with or without truffles) and wine. Yes, it was a special time in my life, I have to admit (beautiful and romantic castles, great food, lovely weather…) Anyway, in the village where we lived there was a well at the top of the hill. You know what I mean, like in medieval times. Sometimes we’d just drop a stone in so we could hear the echo sound from a distance, which was cool.

The point I’d like to make is that your wellness is like that well. When it is full, you can draw from it whenever you need to: for work, relationships, recreation, etc. (Speaking of recreation, when your internal ‘well’ is full, you can do great artwork, because the well is where all creative inspiration lives, in the ‘chi’, which means ‘energy’ in the Chinese language.)

However, after many, many years of drawing from the well, or if there’s a drought and suddenly large amounts of water were used, then maybe, eventually, that well would run dry and you’d be out of luck. Like walking in a desert, and no water anywhere. (‘Water, water everywhere, and not a drop to drink’). Whenever you are caregiving, you draw from that well. If you are not mindful of your own self-care, eventually you can end up like the Eveready Bunny with no batteries.

Remember the cute Eveready Bunny ads on TV? I think that before I used to be like that, but now, no longer, hence the title of this post. But despair not, I’m going to list some tips that might help, and then some resources for you. And of course, a great photo of the Château de Monbazillac (Monbazillac Castle) also the site of the eponymous dessert wine of that name. (If you ever come across it, buy it, for it is truly delicious!)

But if your batteries do run out, then what? As Dr. Badali said: ‘You can’t pour from an empty cup.’ And you can’t draw water from the well, either. If you notice you’ve become more grouchy, or you are sleeping badly, or you are getting sick a lot—consider the following coping strategies that I learned at this workshop I recently I attended, free and online, hosted by the Alzheimer Society of Toronto (they have excellent online workshops, all free). While they are not the panacea, (nothing is, short of winning the lottery, and even that, studies say, is not a guarantee of happiness), they do help.

Some Useful Coping Strategies Before Pressing the Panic Button:

• Accept, work through, and share your feelings with one other
• Be realistic (e.g. we are all human and therefore imperfect!)
• Humour is helpful
• Have a good cry/vent/laugh
• Take time for yourself (though I know this is ‘easier said than done’)
• Get help (no one, but no one, can do this alone. Reach out and attend the free NSCR online Caregiver Support Group, email Vic Gailiunas (for details, see resources below)
• Sometimes it helps to write out your feelings (e.g, a journal, but you can always do it on your phone using the Notes app)
• Prioritize your health (I cannot emphasize this enough). Avoid skipping medical or dental appointments because your caregiving schedule is so full. Take advantage of telemedicine if this is the case.

So, take good care (cliché though that may be) and ‘Ring the bells that still can ring’ (as Leonard Cohen wrote). Next month is ‘Vanishing North Shore’ for all you heritage and retro buffs (Going, going… gone?). And the week after is ‘The Jetsons are Coming!’, (don’t ask). So, some light entertainment is on the menu. God knows, we all need it!

Resources

NSCR Caregiver Support Program: Vic.gailiunas@nscr.ca

‘Overcoming Emotional Burnout’ by Allyson Hodge, 2020

‘The Conscious Caregiver’ by Linda Abbit (pictured above), 2017.

The Alzheimer’s Society of BC

https://alzheimer.ca/bc/en

(See, in particular the free webinar recordings. See also the free Infolink helpline, (I found it helpful during my caregiving journey.)

The Château de Mombazillac (Mombazillac Castle, pictured) Dordogne, France.

Alzheimer Society of Toronto

Home

Phoenix Rising: 7 Inspirational Quotes on Hope

By Catherine Bryson

The week following my father’s passing, I received a very thoughtful gift: a colleague of my sister’s made me two containers of homemade Italian Ziti, true nourishment for both body and spirit, which is why it occurred to me that:

‘Like the Phoenix we will rise from the ashes of our grief.’ (Catherine)

The caregiving journey can seem like an endless airplane flight with lots of turbulence at times. In this post, I offer you hope for the journey: seeds of hope that you can put in your pocket and carry with you as you ‘travel up the mountain’ with your loved one. I wish you well—wellness in the fullest sense of the word. (I also include two writing prompts for the journalers among us.)

But first—a nod to the writer who made this post possible: Eric Maisel, and his inspirational workbook: ’90 days of Hope.’ (See resources if you wish to obtain it.) Truly a gift for this new year of hope and possibilities.

At this time last year (incredible though it seems to me now), my late father was languishing in a hospital bed for weeks almost months, barely eating, barely even conscious. Then one winter afternoon, as if by miracle, we appeared on the ward to see my father up and about in his wheelchair chatting to a healthcare worker in the hallway! Truly, we were uplifted, after weeks and weeks of thinking we should just: ‘go grimly on’, as some Romantic poet said.*

It was the ultimate holiday gift, far and away more precious than any other ‘material’ gift.

I liken the sight of my father up and about to a kind of yeast. Yeast, as you know, is the levener that, together with flour and water, causes fermentation and the dough to do its alchemy as it transforms into a loaf of bread, the manna to feed the hungry, not only body, but soul. Yes, the sight of my father was as yeast to my heavy, heavy heart. I felt enlightened.

And so now, 7 Inspirational Quotes on Hope (Including one from yours truly):

‘Be the light in the darkness.’ Eric Neill

‘To live without hope is to cease to live.’ Fyodor Dostoyevsky

‘To be alive is to remain hopeful—one hopes and tries to have faith in the ultimate benevolence of the universe; despite all evidence to the contrary.’ (Catherine Bryson)

‘Hope lies in dreams, in imagination, and in courage of those who dare to make dreams into reality.’ Jonas Salk

‘All great things are simple, and many can be expressed in a single word: freedom, justice, honour, duty, mercy, hope.’ Winston Churchill

‘Hope is a pillar that holds up the world.’ Pliny the Elder

‘Love is the springtime plant that perfumes everything with its hope, even the ruins to which it clings.’ Gustave Flaubert

Hold on to that last quote, for Spring is near, yes, it is near. And in a subsequent post I will give more quotes on Hope, for truly, I am waiting for Spring to complete this circle. And then I will introduce a Japanese art form that makes the imperfect beautiful and I will also give you a beautiful poem on imperfection by the late Canadian poet and songwriter Leonard Cohen.

Now here are your two journaling prompts:

1. Picture hope as a small bird that needs you: how would you keep it alive?
2. Write to the prompt: ‘Hope is the truth.’

Resources

’90 Days of Hope’ Wellness Journal Series

See also: Eric Maisel: The Focused Journal Method

Eric Maisel Solutions

https://ericmaiselsolutions.com

The International Association for Journal Writing

See ‘Self-Guided Courses’

Home StoryBrand

*I’m not sure which of the Romantic poets it was that said ‘go grimly on’. As I recall from English class this poet had endured many funerals and thus was feeling rather gloomy indeed.  A quick Google search did not reveal the answer. But if you know, do send an email to Vic Gailiunas, Coordinator, Caregiver Support Program. I would appreciate it!

Vic.gailiunas@nscr.ca

A Note on the Image: My father is second from the bow. Devon Wood, Ontario–circa 1939.

‘Finding Meaning’: The Sixth Stage of Grief

by Catherine Bryson

Happy New Year to all of you!

Note: The following post deals with a serious issue, grief. For some, it could be triggering, so use your discretion. That being said, it does not mean that I don’t wish you all good health and happiness in 2024. As I say at the closing of this post, there is always hope, even in the darkest winter.

Recently, as many of you who read this blog regularly know, my dear 91-year-old father passed away. He will be sorely missed. The devastating news came early Boxing Day morning. No one can possibly understand the depths of grief unless one has already been there. But then, there are many different kinds of grief—other losses, equally profound.

So, those of you who have had the experience of ‘carrying your loved one up the mountain’ (a beautiful metaphor I read about many years ago) know what I’m talking about when I say that grief is like the very ground upon which you stood for so many years suddenly opened up and swallowed you whole; or I suppose, like Jonah and the Whale, a story I have mentioned before in previous blog posts.

To use another metaphor, losing a loved one is like an emotional ‘earthquake’ of sorts: for days, weeks, months, even years after—there are ‘aftershocks.’ Likewise, with earthquakes often come tsunamis, or tidal waves of unexpected grief that threaten to engulf you. I kid you not, grief is most certainly not for the fainthearted. But then, neither is getting older, whether it is you or your loved one, or both.

This is why I offer you four excellent resources to help you heal. I can’t say for sure that you’ll ever ‘get over’ your grief. Does one ever?

1. Elisabeth Kübler-Ross’s classic (1969) ‘On Grief and Grieving’. No doubt you’ve already heard of the 5 Stages of Grief, which are based on Ms. Kübler-Ross’s Stages of Dying. She studied the terminally ill for many years and brought home the idea that there is no one ‘typical’ grief process. Each person’s is unique. Above all, the Stages of Grief (which are, not necessarily in order: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance), are not linear in any way and are not meant to provide an easy ‘road map’ to follow. The truth is, there is no road map, but there is scaffolding, and that is what the stages are all about.

• David Kessler: author, public speaker, and death and grieving expert. Mr. Kessler is the author of many books, including two that he co-wrote with Ms. Kübler-Ross. This post is based on my knowledge of his most recent work: ‘Finding Meaning: The Sixth Stage of Grief’ (2020). This is why I’m about to tell you about Brené Brown’s podcast.

• Brené Brown, known for her work on shame, vulnerability and leadership; is an American professor, author, and podcast host and is widely known for her TEDx talk of 2010. Please listen to her podcast (about 1 hour): ‘David Kessler and Brené on Grief and Finding Meaning’ (Unlocking Us Series). Please see Resources (below) for the link. In particular, pay attention to the parable of the long spoons and the discussion on collective grief, specifically, of during the COVID-19 pandemic. Basically, the ‘parable of the long spoons’ is a story about heaven and hell, and how we can choose either one. Hell is a place of misery and suffering, while heaven, in contrast, is a place where everyone ‘feeds each other with long spoons’ (e.g. looks after one another.)

• Finally, I refer you to NSCR’s Bereavement Support Group held (online or in-person) monthly. If you would like to attend, contact Caregiver Support Program coordinator Vic Gailiunas at the following email: Vic.gailiunas@nscr.ca

Though we may face grief alone, we do not have to be ‘all alone with our grief.’ That is the difference. Remember the parable of the long spoons, where everyone cares for one another.

I hope you have found this post helpful. Grief can be like a ‘spiritual winter’ or desert, but there is comfort amidst the desolation, in the form of perhaps a kindly neighbour or even a furry friend. And there is hope. In fact, next week’s post is on hope, so I ‘hope’ to see you then.

Please also note below the numbers to call if you are in crisis.

Resources

Grief Resources:

https://brenebrown.com

HOME

https://brenebrown.com/podcast/david-kessler-and-brene-on-grief

BC Bereavement Help Line 604-738-9950

www.bcbereavementhelpline.com

Provides telephone support, information, and referral to other grief-related resources in the community.

Mental Health Crisis Lines:

310-6789 (Note no ‘604’)

1-800-784-2433

Suicide Hotline at 1-800-SUICIDE (1-800-784-2433) for confidential, non-judgmental and free support available 24/7.

CAB 2024

A Warm Hug for the Winter

by Catherine Bryson

For we are now in the winter season (‘of our discontent’? I hope not). Yes, for even in the depths of winter, there is the promise of spring that will follow. And, in Vancouver, Spring is never too far off.

Consider this post like a warm hug or a bowl of homemade chicken soup. Something to soothe your ailing soul. For we are, all of us, ailing, truly we are, even the better off. How can even the better-off be ailing, might you ask? Because it is simply ‘in the air’ we breathe, and thus, none of us, even the super-rich, can escape the zeitgeist.

But enough of that. This post is about compassion: compassion for self, and compassion for other. For that is how to soothe an aching heart, an ailing soul. What do the experts have to say about compassion? Consider this quote:

‘Our human compassion binds us the one to the other—not in pity or patronizingly, but as human beings who have learnt how to turn our common suffering into hope for the future.’ (Nelson Mandela)

A word on ‘hope’. If you are on the Internet, visit the International Association for Journal Writers (IAJW), (link below) there you will have access to a work by writer Eric Maisel: ’90 days of hope.’ Really and truly, it only costs about 6 bucks to download. The cost of a fancy coffee at Starbucks.

But now, what exactly is compassion? Chris Irons and Elaine Beaumont, authors of: ‘The Compassionate Mind Workbook: A Step-by-step Guide to Developing Your Compassionate Self’, (Robinson: London, 2017) define it this way:

‘A sensitivity to the suffering of self and others (and its causes), with a commitment to relieve and prevent it.’

Yet how are we to soothe our 21^st century angst? With retail therapy? Just one click and instant gratification. Or is it possible, instead, to give yourself a badly needed hug, when others fail?

Consider this: today I waited alone at the bus stop in the rain. And I thought, then, what if it were my mother waiting at the bus stop in the rain, or my grandmothers? How would I feel if I had, through some misfortune, died before them, and therefore looked down upon their plight from heaven? What would I feel? In truth, I would only feel sympathy for them. I would only wish to comfort them, as I would a crying child. For am I not still that crying child, somewhere deep inside? And are you not also? Are we not all, regardless of our age, regardless of our circumstances, just crying children?

And thus, I am my mother to myself. I am my grandmother to myself. Though they have long-since passed, they linger on inside me. And what if I were to call myself ‘dear’, or ‘sweetheart’? What if I were to have an affectionate name for myself, the way some cultures do? For example, in the Russian language, the word ‘mom’ has a diminutive called ‘momochka’. And the Italians call Mickey Mouse ‘Topolino’, which literally means, ‘little mouse.’ What if you were to call yourself a ‘topolino’? One might say, ridiculous in a middle-aged woman, but, why not? For if one uses creativity, one can find comfort even in what may seem like a cold, hard world. While the city is grey and somewhat alienating, there is also within, a ‘softer city’, if you look. A city with a heartbeat. Find that ‘softer city.’ For it exists, I have seen it. In truth though, that ‘softer city’ dwells within.

For self-compassion, as well as compassion for others, is a real gift. A sacred gift. As in the sacred texts, it is written: ‘Though I am weak, yet I am strong.’ So, in our own weak moments, we carry within us seeds of great strength. Though paradoxical, it is quite true, as the Phoenix that rises from the ashes, so we too will rise.

This is a special post because I only just lost my beloved 91-year-old father. And yet while deep in my grief, I still find meaning. As I mentioned at this month’s NSCR Caregiver Support Group meeting, David Kessler, expert on grief, is a great resource that I highly recommend. See what he has to say on meaning, what he calls ‘the sixth stage of grief.’ You will derive great insight from his words, I assure you. I did reach out to get the information to attend this month’s NSCR Bereavement Support Group (January 30, 2024) as you may, as well, simply send Vic an email. Comfort. As the song goes, ‘lean on me.’

Resources:

Home StoryBrand

(Lynda Monk, The International Association for Journal Writers)