One Foot in Front of the Other

Posted on April 6, 2013 by wendyfehr

IMG_2512Running is a challenging endeavor. Just knowing what faces you can be daunting — and that’s before you even get out the door. Before you even begin, you know the exhaustion and aches that wait for you. You recall with some displeasure the stitch in your side that you ran through the last time or the way your shoulder hurt by the time you were finished. But, despite getting up before six and wanting to simply crawl back into bed, you put on your running gear, lace up your runners, strap on your tunes and head out the door.

You set your goal and start out easily enough — you’ve done this enough times that the first bit is easy. You settle into your routine and slowly pick up pace. You move along, feeling the rhythm of your feet striking the ground. Your breath comes easily and steadily without effort. Things are moving along at a good pace and your mind drifts to the myriad of thoughts that you normally don’t have time to think about.

IMG_0671But sooner or later (hopefully later) that moment comes: the moment when you notice the shortness of breath and maybe the stitch in your side or the ache of your knee. Your mind is pulled from it’s meandering as you check where you are in the course of your run. Discouragement hits when you realize you still have some way to go before you reach your goal.

Now it’s getting difficult to draw in a decent breath, your feet are starting to feel heavy and your mouth is dry. You’re forced to slow your pace, but that’s difficult since it throws off your rhythm. You check your course again.

The goal is nowhere in sight.

IMG_1414You no longer notice the music playing in your ears or the scenes around you. Your mind is now thinking only of how to make it to your goal. You realize there is only one thing to do: keep going.

Just keep putting one foot in front of the other.

You feel your feet fall into place in an ever-slowing rhythm and you lose track of where you are, concentrating only on taking the next step and trying to breathe. For a moment you think that maybe you won’t make your goal this time. Maybe you simply can’t do it. You wonder if perhaps you should just stop — it would be so much easier. Easier to be done with the struggle, easier to simply rest.

But you don’t stop.

Now your only thought is which foot to move next: one more step and then the next. Your throat aches and you have a stitch in your side. Your pace continues to slow and you desperately check your course again. And then you see it:

The goal — you did it.

IMG_3907I think some things in life are like running. The course to some goals is filled with difficulties and struggles. At first you manage them — you’ve faced a few things in your time and you know yourself well enough after all. But sometimes the discouragements of set-backs and sheer exhaustion make you question the goal. You wonder if it’s worth it. More than that, you don’t know if you can actually make it. It would be so much easier to simply stop.  After all, no one could keep you from quitting if you really wanted to — no one could make you keep going.

But you don’t stop.

At some point, though, it comes down to simply putting one foot in front of the other — just do the next thing and then the next, and then the next thing after that.  All you can see is the next step. Not the goal, just the step.

You’re exhausted and ready to be done. Then, suddenly, you look up and realize you did it. It wasn’t fun and, sometimes it wasn’t pretty, but you made it.

And you know that feeling that you get when you’ve reached your goal? Well, that’s why you ran in the first place.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

 

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Are you awake?

Posted on December 15, 2012 by wendyfehr

Some of you may be aware of the concept of “winter driving conditions”: those wonderful times of ice and snow-covered streets that turn our daily commutes into ‘high risk’ activities on par with cliff diving. Some of you may never have had the privilege of experiencing these conditions and some of you may have gratefully forgotten the concept all together. However, at this particular time those of us in Saskatchewan are painfully aware of these ideas — most of the time.

There’s this thing that happens as we adjust to these conditions — even for those of us using our winter driving skills on a daily basis. It starts innocently enough as you are driving along, feeling rather confident of the road conditions that day and being only too grateful to be getting to work in a timely fashion. Your mind begins to leap ahead to your day and what needs to be done, your hands relaxing slightly on the steering wheel. Things are going along fine until, suddenly, you feel your car slide almost imperceptibly — almost. You are immediately jolted into full attention, your hands tightening their grip on the wheel as you act quickly to correct the course of your vehicle. All of your energies are sharply focused on controlling your vehicle and straightening its course.

Usually you can pull out of this situation fairly easily. It’s simply a matter of making small corrections in your steering and setting your car on the right course. If you don’t slam on your brakes (you’ll slide) and don’t overcorrect the steering (you’ll skid and possibly wind up in the ditch — or worse) you should get back on track just fine — just a little wake up call to make certain you’re paying attention.

I think sometimes life sends us the same ‘wake up calls’ — those situations you never see coming that cause you to quickly refocus your attention and straighten a drifting course. It differs for everyone of course: an illness, a job loss, a death, a failure. It may not even be that serious, but then again, it may. And, while these ‘wake up calls’ are scary, they generally provide an opportunity: a chance to ensure we are on the right track and doing what we should be doing.

The trick is: don’t panic. Just steer and keep going.

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Hurry up and rest

Posted on September 1, 2012 by wendyfehr

I’ve had a few weeks off now — summer term officially ended August 3rd.  My sanity has slowly returned — at least enough for me to write this blog.

My summer definitely did not go as my summers usually do. I spent 11 weeks in clinical practicum. Five of those weeks I lived away from home. It was very difficult.

For the most part all I could see was an overwhelming amount of work in an unfamiliar situation with few of my usual resources available to me. It was daunting to say the least. It was also overwhelming. I had no idea how to get all of the course work done in addition to full-time clinic work. Even more troubling was being away from home for that amount of time.

I’ve said it before and I’ll admit again: I’m a bit of a control freak. Throwing someone like me into the unknown is not a good idea. I don’t like not knowing what’s coming at me and, less than that, I don’t like not planning at least a week in advance. That’s simply not possible when you have never been to the place you are going. Frankly, it terrified me.

As I drove away from home, beginning a five-week journey into the unknown, all I could think was, “Am I insane?” I mean, who would leave their family and home? I almost turned around at least every ½ hour of the 3 hour drive. But there were a couple of things that kept me from doing that.

First, I thought about how disappointed everyone would be with me if I just quit — simply gave up. I knew I couldn’t disappoint my family like that — or me. Every member of the family had already invested so much into the previous year. I couldn’t just throw that away.

The other thing that kept me going was the question of what message it would send to my children if they saw me quit. I mean, what would that tell them about all of the things they could or could not do in their lives? I simply couldn’t place those limitations on them.

So I kept driving. I did the five weeks away and then another six weeks from home. And what did I learn in my weeks of practicum?

I learned that I prefer a small, crowded house where I bump into someone every time I turn around over having an entire bungalow to myself.

I learned where my efforts could take me if I kept going as I stood on the shoulders of giants and looked ahead at the career that potentially awaits me.

And (my apologies to my patients for this) I learned that suturing is fun — at least, for me.

But the most important thing I learned is that, despite my fears, I can do the overwhelming and terrifying things.

I’d like to say I kicked back and relaxed when term was done but it was more like “hurry up and rest”. I’m looking at another two terms over winter and, I’m certain, the same overwhelming amount of course work to do and the same fears to face.

Time for a deep breath and the cold plunge.

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Amazing what can happen in a year!

Posted on August 4, 2012 by wendyfehr

I have just completed the third term of my program and it’s time for an annual tradition.

Every summer, at the end of the school year, my husband and I take our children out for a family dinner.  We usually pick a new restaurant or one we really enjoyed but haven’t been to for a while.  The purpose of the supper out is to celebrate all of our individual accomplishments  over the past year:  another grade completed, another level of swimming achieved, another grade of piano passed, a job acquired — you get the picture.

It’s a great tradition for us.  I gain insight into what each person feels to be their biggest accomplishment.  Sometimes it surprises me, not having the same perspective as my children.  But, mostly, we help each other recall what we have done and achieved that year — everyone has always done so much!

My New GraduandI am frequently amazed when we begin to list all that a particular person has done. We, ourselves, often don’t even remember what it is we’ve accomplished — but the others do. They notice all of our efforts!  It is a wonderful time of lifting one another up and acknowledging the hard work of each one of us.

I love that meal.

This year, with my son’s high school graduation, the many accomplishments the others, and my work in my program we’ll have a lot to celebrate.

Fancy Dinner Table

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The thing about gardens is…

Posted on July 29, 2012 by wendyfehr

I’m not a gardener. I don’t know much about it. However, when my girls decided to try growing a garden this year I happily joined in. With a bit of help (ok, maybe a little more than ‘a bit’) we managed to plant a few things.

Yesterday we spent a pleasant evening working in the garden and picking some of the produce. My daughter asked me if I liked gardening. I told her that I very much enjoyed it.

The thing is, I’m still wondering what exactly I enjoy about gardening. Is it the sense of accomplishment? Is it the quiet? Is it the simplicity? Is it spending time outdoors? Is it the smells and colours? Is it being able to work with my hands on something tangible? Perhaps the correct answer is ‘all of the above’.

Whatever it is that I appreciate about the experience, my time spent in the garden this year serves as a respite from the work I’ve been doing. I plan to enjoy more time in the garden.

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Adventures Part II: What are people telling you?

Posted on May 6, 2012 by wendyfehr

I was thinking more about boxes and boundaries and how they come to be — how we form the paradigms that define our lives. These ideas were simmering in the background one day as I walked into the gym and saw this quote posted on their board:

“Never let anyone tell you you can’t do something just because they can’t.”

— unknown author

Which Way?Grammar aside, the idea certainly “clicked”.  How many of our paradigms and boundaries are formed in this way?

I’m working on something that I never would have thought myself able to do. It’s an undertaking that seems big and frightening to me. But, reading this quote, I began to wonder why I thought I couldn’t do it. I mean others had accomplished it in the past and some are working at it now. Certainly the task is doable. Where did I get the idea that I couldn’t do these things?

I think I know where some of my paradigms came from. There have been times when I was told, either directly or indirectly, that there were certain things I should never try to do. I suspect the motives of the people saying these things stemmed more from their own issues than from their opinion about me.

Defining lines

But here’s my thing: it wasn’t them telling me I couldn’t do it that held me back — it was my believing I couldn’t do it that kept me from moving forward.

That’s the most difficult thing to overcome I think. It’s when those messages undermine one’s belief in one’s own abilities that our ship is sunk.

The problem is, the only way to undo the lie is to is to start doing – to prove it false. That proof — that truth — is found in the process of undertaking a task and, hopefully, accomplishing it. Either way, you’ll know what your abilities truly are.

I want to discover for myself what I can and cannot do.  I want to see for myself where my limitations lie — where the boundaries of my life are fixed.

I don’t want those boundaries set by other people.

Exit

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Adventures: The boxes in which we live

Posted on April 28, 2012 by wendyfehr

“I am looking for someone to share in an adventure that I am arranging, and it’s very difficult to find anyone.”

“I should think so — in these parts! We are plain quiet folk and have no use for adventures. Nasty disturbing uncomfortable things! Make you late for dinner!”

– The Hobbit

I can certainly relate to this sentiment just now as I embark on a bit of a “forced adventure”. I’m currently preparing to be away for a number of weeks — leaving my home and family — in order to complete requirements for the course I’m taking. The task has made me think.

I’ve had an idea I’ve been turning over in my mind for some time now.  It’s really more of a question I suppose — or a number of questions. I just can’t seem to get it sorted. It has to do with boxes — specifically those boxes we live in.

You know the ones: those unseen but firmly placed walls that define the boundaries of our lives. The walls that separate our comfortable, well established lives from the unfamiliar, the uncomfortable, and the downright scary world that exists beyond our domain. And we don’t mind that it’s beyond our walls — that it remains “out there” as opposed in “in here”.

But here’s one of my questions: why is it that some people’s boxes are so much larger than other people’s boxes? Why do some lives encompass so much more of the world than others? They know more people or they travel to more places or they do bigger things. But there are other people who live in the same city in which they grew up surrounded by family or a handful of friends whom they’ve known their entire lives.

Mountain ViewHow do some people achieve such big lives?

But my next question is this: where should our boundaries lie? How big must our life be to be considered something of value? And, fundamentally, is it wrong to be content with a small, satisfying life or must we make every attempt to make a larger impact on the world around us?

I know my limitations and the reasons for them only too well. I understand my box isn’t very large, but it is comfortable and safe. I like my box. But, for some time now, I’ve felt vaguely guilty living comfortably in my small box — as though I’m being selfish or neglectful. And, as I move through my program, many of the boundaries that define my life are being challenged — almost on a daily level. It scares me sometimes. I see people around me with much larger boxes and doing so much more with so many other people.

So, here’s the underlying question then: how big should our boxes be?

Solitary Figure Against Big Sky

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Paying attention

Posted on April 21, 2012 by wendyfehr

I like to think every day has some good in it although, admittedly, some days have more good than others. Sometimes it’s difficult to find the good things — you have to look pretty closely. This past week was like that. It wasn’t a bad week it was just an ordinary, busy week. It was a little frustrating. I never did get to some of the things I needed to do — I still need to do them.

My “These things” blog was one of the items I’m only just getting to. One of the reasons I didn’t get to it earlier (besides having no time) was that I had nothing good to put forward. I could think of no good thing that had kept me going through my days.

Sea Lions

I knew there had to be something good in my week, I just couldn’t find it.

I was heading to work early one morning, facing a long clinic list and an even longer day. As I walked to my office I kept thinking, “There must be some measure of good in this day even if it’s only a little.” I reviewed every day that had sped past in my week trying to come up with those things that helped me through each day.

But here’s what surprised me: by the time I got to my office I had an entire list.

There were good things.

I simply hadn’t been paying attention.

But better than that, just the idea of having an entire list of good things made my day begin on a completely different track. It was still a long day but, having my list tucked firmly into my iPad case kept me going.

I’ll be sharing some of the things from my list over the next few weeks.

Some of them.

There are some things I’ll keep just for me.

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How ironic is that?!

Posted on April 14, 2012 by stuartfehr

My husband and I recently took our kids to see The Lorax movie. I like the message in the original story. Yes, it speaks to environmental responsibility, however, it speaks to more than that — at least, to me it does. To me, the story highlights how each of us needs to take personal responsibility for what’s going on around us.

Waiting ...Now get this:

On this particular day in this particular movie,
A group of kids sat in their seats feeling rather groovy.
They had come to see a story
About rascals killing trees,
But little did they know, they’d see much more than these.

The time to start the movie up it came and it went.
But no one had quite noticed. At least, they had not yet.
The kids chatted and they talked
They bustled and they walked.
Some wrestled with a pop until one of them was wet.

The kids squirmed in their seats getting louder and more talky.
They wiggled and they giggled while some of them got squaky.
The din inside the movie place
Grew at a breakneck pace
Until the tide of growing noise left one feeling rather chalky.

Lorax

The Lorax

The moms began to mumble, “When will this movie start?!”
They wondered very loudly how things could fall apart.
They grumbled rather sourly,
Their faces looking dourly,
But did they check? Did they ask? No, they didn’t do their part.

They only bought the kids more popcorn, candies, pop,
Trying to get their wiggling and their giggling to stop.
But one mom stood and shook her head
“This isn’t any good,” she said,
“I’m going to see who’s out there and what’s causing this to flop.”

She marched right out and, in a flick, came marching right back in.
She sat straight down and as she did she yelled above the din,
“Good thing I asked,
Who’s on the task.
The movie starter upper guy hadn’t given it a spin.”

The kids sat down and they began to watch the movie now.
But that one mom began to think they missed the point somehow.

The Lorax

The Lorax

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The humour of stress

Posted on April 1, 2012 by wendyfehr

Even in the middle of a stressful period there is humour to be found.

I’m beginning a week of three exams – one of them an OSCE no less (this is a situational exam in which you are graded on how you assess, diagnose, and treat the patient — those are the worst). The exams are in addition to orientation to a three-month practicum to be done over the summer months. I’m justifiably stressed and that stress surfaces in odd places.

StressI had a dream in which I went to my OSCE. I arrived a full two hours early — wearing fuzzy pink pyjamas and having forgotten my stethoscope and lab coat at home. No matter how many phones I tried (I found about six different phones) for one reason or another I could not reach anyone at home to ask them to bring me my things.

What did I take from that? It would seem that, no matter how much I study, I simply will never feel prepared for these exams.

When I told my husband about my dream we had a good laugh. He was kind enough to point out that, even in my dream, I had at least gotten to the exam.

Guess that’s better than the dream in which I can’t find my class.

 

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