Dollar Store Glue

Blog Entry - Monica Rae

-April 1st, 2020 -

When I was 5 years old, my parents purchased a new home in the California Valley. It was a ranch house on a half-acre lot—yet to be transformed by their green thumbs. Not long after we moved in, I was outside, alone, in a kiddy pool splashing in the water and soaking up the valley rays surrounded by dirt mounds and bugs. My mother called at me through the bathroom window and we spoke regarding something I can no longer remember. Some amount of time lapsed, and I began to feel a sensation on my body, maybe the wind or splash of water. To my surprise, NO--to my horror, I saw pincher bugs and ants crawling up both of my arms. So naturally, I began to scream. Loudly! I shook my arms in a vain attempt to release the dozens of creatures I was certain would find their way to more invasive locations. The shaking didn’t suffice so I began to slap my extremities while simultaneously checking to see if any of these tiny insects had made it to my chest or worse, my face! If I close my eyes now, I can remember the sheer panic that overcame me in that moment. I felt stuck. Unable to manage the fear!

When I was 13 years old, I was given a diagnosis that would shape my life. At the time, I thought it would define my abilities. I spent years studying the affects of my autoimmune disorder, seeking countless physicians’ opinions and treatments. At 17 years old, symptoms became so severe that I lost my job and had to have a tutor at home instead of enjoying the blissful high school social experience of dances and mall trips. By 24 years old, I had multiple surgeries as my diagnoses increased. Living with a chronic, unpredictable disease affected every aspect of my being and shaped every relationship I had the energy for. For years, I felt defined by its parameters, unable to tame the unknown.

You and I both know the properties of ‘glue.’ It’s supposed to provide adherence to something. Permanently. That’s helpful for preschool Christmas ornaments or repairs you want to make to your table before company arrives. But the idea of being stuck like glue in situations that evoke fear and panic, would welcome a dollar store brand of glue, the kind that loosens its grip shortly after it dries. Why? Because being ‘stuck’ is never a desire of ours.

But, what if it was?

What if ‘being stuck’ meant something else? Google Dictionary defines it as “being fixed in a particular position or unable to move or be moved.” But that’s the 4th definition of the word. Want to know the ones before it? “Push an object through something, extend in a certain direction.”

Sometimes I get stuck because I’m not paying attention—I’ve said ‘yes’ too many times to things that keep me from joy. Other times life circumstances surround me like insects covering my arms. There are bills to pay for visits I didn’t budget for, an older teenager whose ailments I can’t fix with my organizational skills alone, a partner who doesn’t always have the same interests or energy as me, a relationship that isn’t what I thought it would be, a diet I couldn’t seem to follow for longer than a week, an autoimmune disorder that seems to dictate my income. The list goes on, but the opportunity remains.

I can spend hours organizing my closets, balancing my budget and leaving sticky notes where members of my family can see them so chores and appointments can be delegated and tended to without stress. And for a time, this calms me, like a glass of rum or night of laughter. I forget about the panic, the stress or the long list.

But what if the answer isn’t found in avoidance.

What if that answer is found in the middle of being stuck?

Both happiness and pain inspire creativity. And adrenaline comes when we need it to hyper focus on a task or push through. When we are inevitably stuck, do we scream in fear—assuming we have no options or do we begin to navigate the pain. Somewhere hidden in the disheveled chaos is the opportunity to focus on the moment—to be brave and extend the soul muscles we leave on the shelf in the middle of predictability.

Because here is the truth: Without fear there is no bravery….

When life is predictable, we are not acutely aware of the strength we possess! We may be productive, moving a long in our careers and obligations, but are we present? Are we fully in the moment when we are so busy filling our lives with things to do, places to go—in a race, to win what?

Currently, in the ‘corona virus quarantine mode’ I find myself reflecting on the losses and the gains. Like so many others around the globe, I’m losing income! How I shop, clean, connect, travel and work have all been affected. And then last week, my daughter said her throat hurt, she spiked a fever of 100 and the perspective I gained in that moment realigned my heart. Her cold passed within days, but my core was disturbed. Her smile and wellness were all I wanted and needed in the middle of the unfamiliar.

…I can spend hours in the dirt now, excited at the multitude of slimy worms I find in the garden beds, on my piece of prairie land. Gathering them up in my hands, I present them to my mallard ducks who splash in their kiddy pool like children eager for a mid-day snack…

…While being stuck in the unknown I chose gratitude. I’m brave in the uncertainty. I’m surrounded by pure joy in the panic…