FAF: Traveling again!

I'm sitting at gate B-70 at Dulles International Airport, waiting for time to speed up so I can board my flight.

Today, I am *that* passenger. You know the one - sniffly, coughing, the "oh please don't get me sick" passenger. I am not contagious. That was days ago. No, I am in the lingering phase of mild congestion and coughing that just will not go away. I have done Zicam, water, tissues, echinacea, cold medicine, steam, and sleep. Still it lingers!

I suddenly have such sympathy for past *those* passengers. Perhaps I could have been more compassionate? Perhaps I could have suppressed the murderous glares? Now I am receiving them.

It's truly a pity that we aren't able to extend greater kindnesses to our fellow traveling companions. We don't know their stories - hell, that's half the fun (cause then you can make up stories in your head about the people sitting around you). Would it kill us to spare a little goodwill?

I won't get you sick, fellow passengers, I assure you. So stop looking at me like that, I can't help the cough.

Free for All Friday: Birthdays, Sabbats, and more

Blessed Litha to you all! May this longest day illuminate the important things in your life and help you see where changes must occur.

So, as I mentioned in Wednesday's Writing post, it was also my birthday. YAY!

However, being the do-what-I-want-for-the-most-part kind of person I am, I have been celebrating more or less all week. Yup, a week long birthday celebration. Gotta love it.

Tuesday was the awesome Melissa Etheridge concert.

Wednesday was my actual birthday; I had lunch at the Cheesecake Factory and then enjoyed the Litha Ritual at 13 Magickal Moons.

Yesterday, I got to hang out with my sister, Riz, for a good chunk of the afternoon and then I had dinner with my mom at Travinia. That was a very yummy place.

Today, I am chillaxin' because it's Litha. I am enjoying the Lord's day and the sunshine and blue skies.

Tomorrow, friends are coming over for food and festivities to celebrate my birthday.

Not bad, I know!

All in all, 32 is looking to be a great year!

Writing Wednesday: 4th Street Feeling

Today is my birthday!!! Last night, I went to Wolf Trap to see the always amazing Melissa Etheridge on concert. It was spectacular and I had a blast, but it definitely inspired some poetry. So here's a little taste of last night for you, titled after the song that inspired it.

4th Street Feeling
pulsing
dancing
feeling
   the vibrations

in the ground
in the air
in my body

the thump
       resonating in
             my soul

the night sky
       open and wide
above my head

...eyes closed, head back
the sweet smell of summer….

sprawled on the blanket
     forgotten glass of wine
            to my right

eyes closed
    swaying

lost in the music

Free for All Friday: Vanity

During the A to Z Challenge, I shared with you all my feelings about jewelry.

Mostly I think I expressed my affection for shiny things. Which is totally true, because I am almost as bad as a racoon or a magpie. Ooooh shiny. (An expression I loved in Firefly, by the way).

In order to really grasp the extent of my jewerly addiction and how vain I am, allow me to paint you a picture.

It's a nice, quiet evening at home. You've had your dinner, you've brushed your teeth. Tomorrow you return to work. Most people have a "night before work" routine - packing lunch, picking out clothes, grabbing a book for the commute. My mother, for example, still irons her clothes as part of her routine. Then she does something critical - she picks the jewelry that will go with her outfit.

Being me, I must be contrary. I pick my jewelry first. That's right, I go pawing through my drawers of jewelry until I find a set that I have decided MUST BE WORN. MUST, I tell you. Now that I've found THE SET for the next day, I start shoving hangers around in my closet until I find something that will work with it. Assbackwards, but it's my method. Besides, it ensures that I look fabulous(!) and it shows my excellent taste in bling.

What's your routine? 

Mental Health Monday: Boundaries, Relationships, and Loss

Today's topic is a Mental Health Monday topic.

Therapists are taught the importance of boundaries when we develop therapeutic relationships. A therapeutic relationships is not like any other. We share in the joys and sorrows of the individuals with whom we work, but it's fairly one-sided. Our role is to reflect empathy and provide an environment of validation and provide a framework within which the person is able to build on his or her own strengths. Typically, that means very little of our own experiences are shared with these individuals, unless it provides a therapeutic benefit.

Having said all of that, we become attached to these individuals. We are gifted with the opportunity to see them grow - through their own strength and choices - and we are fortunate enough to support them in these endeavors. So when one of these individuals passes, we mourn.

Last week, an individual with whom I was fortunate to work, over the course of multiple stays over many years, passed away. She had a sweet disposition, a quiet smile, and a strong love for animals. She was tormented by her illness, but had a good support network. Her primary treatment team had worked for a very long time to get her into a group home and, after a week there, she passed away from medical complications.

We grieve when one of these individuals, who has left their own indelible stamp on our lives and experiences, leaves this world. Whether by natural causes or by an individual's choice, the passing of a former client leaves a different kind of mark. There is a sadness that we won't see them again, hear how they've accomplished something else or tried something new. There's, in some cases, a sense of quiet acceptance or even relief that the individual is no longer in pain (whether physical, emotional, or mental, or some combination of the three). And there's a reflection on the gifts that the individual gave us through the therapeutic relationship, which we'll cherish always.

I hope you find peace. I hope there was little pain. I hope you know that your loved ones will be supported. I hope you know that you will be missed. Thank you for the opportunity to work with you. Bright Blessings.

Free for All Friday: Moving and Cleaning

Also known as "I love my sister but I must be crazy."

So welcome to the new schedule of posts here at Lyre's Musings! In honor of our first Free for All Friday, I have a fantastic rant for you.

Last weekend I helped one of my sisters move. Now, I've been helping her off and on over the last month with packing in preparation of said move. I didn't think we'd survive. :-) She got a late start and, boy, I thought there'd be packing right up until the last minute. By some miracle, she got most of the packing done in advance. Her husband, well. I love my brother-in-law, but woah. He has many, many talents. Packing is not one of them.

So, Saturday is "U-haul brings belongings from townhouse in Pville to apt in Woodbridge" day. Being the good sister I am, I managed to be available (with some help from my supervisor who needed someone to switch from Sat night to Tues day for coverage and asked me first). The plan, according to my brother-in-law, was for my sister and I to stay inside the apartment and direct incoming boxes/items and/or move boxes/items to their designated places. This is one of many reasons I absolutely love my brother-in-law. Allow me to delegate and NOT have to lug boxes out of the U-haul and up the stairs? HELL YES. No prob, Bob.

Things are plugging along fairly nicely and then it's after 7pm and the U-Haul is empty. My sister needs to take my brother-in-law's nephews back to Pville. Ugh. She also has to return the U-haul. Double Ugh. Plus, her cats (my fur nieces and nephews) are still in Pville and she really wants to bring them back to the apt. She's been up and moving since 7am. Does she need sleep? Desperately. But she goes and does all of that, leaving me to help unpack.

Love is letting your sister set up your altar for you so it's done. Love is also using that trust to set up the altar in a way that your sister will be happy. Needless to say, it took me an hour to unpack all the altar supplies and another 30 minutes to set it up in a way that would make her happy. Then I started unpacking the bedroom stuff, so that her room was more the master bedroom and less of a room with a ton of shit in it. As a military brat, I have moved more times than I care to remember. Bedrooms and kitchen were always the first to be unpacked. In that order. She came back, cats in tow, and we set them free in the apartment to explore.

She cried when she saw her bedroom. Boy, did I have moment of "Crap! She doesn't like something! I can fix it, I can fix it!" Fortunately, it was a good kind of cry.

The next two days were clean the townhouse so that they'd get the security deposit back.  Want good exercise? Scrub the hell out of a townhouse - kitchens, bathrooms. My arms ached for days afterwards. Good workout, though, I guess.

The most important thing is that my sister (and brother-in-law and fur nieces and nephew) are back in Woodbridge and I don't have to drive over an hour to see them. :-)

Happy Friday!

N is for...

Hello, and welcome to day fourteen of the A to Z Challenge!

Today's topic is Night Shifts. Specifically, 12.5 hour overnight shifts.

I work three 12.5 hour shifts a week at my job; the remaining 2.5 are filled by a *thrilling* staff meeting. One of my shifts spans the night. It's interesting, for several reasons.

First, night shifts start off hectic and frenetic and scrambling to get everything done that needs to get done in a four hour span from 7p to 11p. Of course, it really ends up being from 7:30p to 11p, because we're in shift change for the first 30 minutes. So, what happens in this incredibly small window of time? Group, snack, medications, individual sessions, sometimes transport to an AA meeting, an intake… That can be a lot.

Once the residents go to bed for the night, the program takes on this quiet, somber note. We do bed checks hourly, we do assorted administrative tasks, we prep the breakfast stuff and make coffee for the morning (for the residents). If it's a good, Q-U-I-E-T (SHHHHH DON'T SAY IT… Geez. You could be jinxing a night shift somewhere!) kind of night, then we can watch movies, read a book. I've been known to edit or knit on a night shift. We (the staff on shift) can also get into these really deep and philosophical discussions about the meaning of life and other stuff. Deep, I know.

Then there are those, other kind of nights. Multiple calls from Emergency Services, intakes galore. Residents who can't sleep and are up, roaming the building. Those nights, by the time the morning shift change is over, make you feel like you work twice as long as you actually did.

If you're lucky, you got a decent amount of sleep prior to working. I seem to be in the rare minority that can actually sleep during the day before to ensure I am rested and energized for my shift. If you're really lucky, you don't have a rapid turnaround for going from night to day. I am currently not so lucky there.

Working a night throws off all kinds of rhythms, circadian and otherwise. There are all kinds of health-related problems that are attributed to this kind of schedule. I do my best to combat it by getting plenty of sleep, exercising, and eating healthily.

What about the rest of you with night shift experience? What are some of your favorite parts? What do you struggle with most?

Also, I apologize for the last two posts going up so late. I promise we'll be back on an early schedule starting tomorrow! See you then!

L is for...

Hello, and welcome to day twelve of the A to Z Challenge!

Today's topic is Lughnasadh, or Lammas.

Well, that was the original plan for this post, anyway. Yesterday, I traveled to my alma mater, Roanoke College, for my ten year reunion. I didn't go to my ten year high school reunion; I didn't feel compelled to do so. Somehow, though, I found myself anxiously waiting to see who would be at 'dear old Roanoke,' who I might get to catch up with during the whirlwind of activities.

I spent the evening at FOTQ (Friday on the Quad, a cookout/picnic event with a band) and at my sorority house. Then I ate dinner with some good friends at my home away from dorm room, Macado's.

It left me thinking about the kinds of love we encounter in our lives: friends, sorority sisters (or, for some, fraternity brothers), family, spouses, nieces, nephews, children, and places. It's the latter that struck me the most today, seeing all the familiar haunts from four amazing years in my life.

So, I'll leave you with a moment from yesterday where I was reminded of the beauty of a place and the love it can hold.

standing on elizabeth campus feeling the warm breeze
a stillness
     not just deep within
     but carried on the wind

a peace
     so potent in the moment
     that all is right with the world and you

laughter and music drifting
lazily in the fading sunlight
scent of spring
     soft
          gentle
               tickling

juxtaposed

with memories
     of other days just like this
so long ago

face turned
     catching the last rays of twilight
that glint off the windows
that once shielded you

now...
looking in and seeing the past
     as the future looks backr

Bedroom Suite

So, the product of my teeth-gnashing and hair pulling and lots and lots of cursing entered my house on Wednesday successfully.

My furniture is beautiful. And it fits (mostly) so we measured right.

But it took until Friday evening before it looked like a room again. First, I had to put all my clothes away in the dresser and chest of drawers, plus transfer the items from my old nightstand into my new one. Which took forever, because I have more drawers now (and bigger drawers) so I can store differently and (hopefully) more efficiently. Then, there's the bits and bobs that have to find new homes from where they'd been before. And I'm very picky when it comes to the placement of such things, for reasons that are wholly inexplicable to me. Finally, the pictures and framed prints on the walls, so it looks like someone actually lives in it. And here's the end result:

My beautiful bed

A view of my dresser

Altar, closet, and a bit of the footboard

Okay, so you can't see the footboard well.

I have drawers in my bed!

So, adulthood thus far is turning out to be not so bad. My bed is incredibly comfortable and beautiful and my new favorite place to read (sorry, comfy chair). Now... to see how it does as a writing place... I'll get back to you on that part.

Domestication

Or rather, the uninspiring lack thereof. I am turning 30 later this month and am excited to celebrate another birthday. One step in this shift from post-adolescent/young adult chapter to Adult chapter of my life has been to purchase a new bedroom set.

This is noteworthy for two reasons: 1. I hate shopping. Furniture shopping is, I'm pretty sure, one of the outer rings of Hell. 2. I've had my current bedroom set since I was 2. Yes, for 28 years this set is with me.

Well, was with me. My new furniture came today. I'll share pictures later. But, with the arrival of new furniture comes rearranging, reorganizing, and other new stuff. Like new sheets. Which brings me to the point of this blog.

How the hell do they get the fitted sheets to fold so nicely in the package from which I pulled it to wash it? I would like to know. I would like lessons from these highly skilled sheet folders. Because I just spent the last 15 minutes folding and refolding a fitted sheet only to want to throw it out the window because it's a shapeless pile of sheet with some folds in it, and I would like to move on from this. Shouldn't there be a class where, as an adult, you learn how to properly fold sheets so they can be stored prettily in a new, cedar-lined drawer? How did those sheet packagers learn to do this? I've been folding fitted sheets for, I don't know, 16-18 years and still a puddle of blah with some folds. Bah. I'm just going to put it in the drawer and move on. But if you know of such skilled fitted sheet folders, dear readers, please share. If nothing else, I'll just hire one to come and fold some fitted sheets for me and leave them folded and pretty in the drawer.