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Every time I meet a new class of students I inevitably get that awkward moment when one of them asks, “How do you talk to people about loss and not get depressed?”  I always answer with something like this, “Well when you do what you love it isn’t hard.”  It is a trite answer that I often feel comes across as self-aggrandizing.  I always think it reinforces to them that I somehow think I am better than them.   I hate it but I can’t think of a quick way to move on to something more important, like their education.

The truth is that I have a hard time putting into words why I do what I do.  The truth is that I like to feel like a superhero.  Like Batman, I often visualize myself responding to the beacon of distress.  For years in my job I had a pager that went off when someone needed help dealing with people in some pretty dramatic and risky situations.  This didn’t help what I affectionately call my superhero complex.

As you might guess, this is not a good quality in a therapist.  No one really wants to be treated like a damsel in distress.  Even if they do it isn’t the path to good mental health.  It is a fast track to burn out. None of us can be everything to everyone that needs us.  Superman, Batman and Spiderman all have learned this lesson while fighting crime.  The difference is that I am real and they are not.  I have worked hard on folding up my cape and putting it in the closet.  Every once in a while I still find myself trying it on, being a parent will do that to you.

In the past few years I have started to understand my drive differently.  I love my job for many reasons that are hard to explain.  Mostly I love my job because I am proud of my clients and I am honoured that they trust me enough to share some of the most intimate parts of themselves with me.   I get to see people with their masks off, even if I just get a peak.  You get to see someone’s true character when things are at their worst.  It is sort of like having ex-ray vision but more personal and less creepy.

We live in a time of helicopter parenting, status updates, therapy in 140 words or less and other quick fixes.  It seems to me that we all need to take off our capes every once in a while and appreciate the strength hidden all around us.  It is even within you.  I can tell because I have ex-ray vision.

This time of year, like many of you I fall into the trap of self-criticism and longing.  I want to be happier, 10 lbs smaller and more successful.  I see Facebook posts and tweets about eating better, exercising more and tackling the dirty house.  Sometimes this even translates into my office.  People come with new vigor about tackling their relationships or managing their anxiety better.

We all know that resolutions are a motivational tool.  They can help us focus and move towards better health.  This is a good thing, isn’t it?  Well, sometimes.  I believe that resolutions are also part of a bigger problem.  They are excellent revenue sources for gyms, weight loss programs and yes, even therapists.  It is another cog in our consumerist society.    We also know that most resolutions are destined to fail.

The reason is this.  THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH YOU!!  Any book, blog, trainer, therapist or program that tells you otherwise isn’t worth the money you are paying for them.

Your over-eating, lazy, narcissistic self-loathing is happening for a reason. It isn’t a bad thing: it just is what it is. It has likely gotten you this far in life for good reasons.  You do it because of your past trauma, hurt, worry, stress and any other number of crappy things that have happened over the course of your life.  We all have crap, just varying degrees of it.  You have been shaped by your experiences for the good, the bad and the ugly.

What is wrong is our society and how we collectively judge ourselves and each other.  The key to any kind of change is accepting yourself, thunder thighs, dust bunnies and all.  Only then will you be able to see things clearly and know what you truly need and want changed.

So after years of training, two undergrad degrees, one Master’s degree and countless hours of listening to people talk about how they want to see their lives change, I can tell you that the best piece of advice I  have ever been given came from an SNL skit.  In the words of Stuart Smalley, “I’m good enough, I’m smart enough and dog gone it, people like me.”

Now excuse me, I have some squats to do.  I want to get in shape in 2014.

More than a decade ago I was working on my Bachelor of Social Work.  During that time I had the privilege of being mentored during my first practicum by an amazing woman.  Not only was she one of the most compassionate, accepting woman I have run across in my years in a profession full of compassionate accepting people, she was also a self described Buddhist Witch.

I still am not entirely clear what that means.  I have a hard time getting my head around it but I was, and continue to be, fascinated by it.  She told me that her Buddhist practice was about centering herself and working towards enlightenment.  She modestly believed that she had a long way to go on both fronts.  Her Wiccan practice was about honouring the earth, and celebrating the power within nature and the power within us all.  These are lessons I believe are good for all of us regardless of how we practice our faith.

I like to consider myself a realist.  I am not pessimistic about the world.  I don’t believe the world is out to get me, that evil surrounds us or that the life is about putting in time until we die. I think we can be so much more than that. I believe in the power of choice and of humanity.

I also am not an optimist.  I don’t think you can do the work I do and believe wholeheartedly that everything will always work out. Sometimes bad things happen to good people.  Sometimes no matter how hard you work, how much you love and how you hard you try things can fall apart. I believe that you can’t control life but can chose how you will react to it.

For me, winter solstice is a metaphor for my view of the world.  There is a realistic tone to it.  It is the darkest and longest night.  It signals the beginning of the coldest season of the year.  That is terrifying given how cold Fall has already been.  It also symbolizes change.  The sun will begin its return tomorrow.  Slowly the shear power of its heat will start to warm the earth and begin to provide for us again.  Longer days are coming, slowly but undeniably.  For me it is a night of hope.  This is reason to celebrate.

So at Winter Solstice I celebrate quietly.  Every year I mark the day in my mind with the knowledge that no matter how cold the winter will get that eventually it will pass.  All I have to do is wait.  I can’t fight it, or avoid it forever so I might as well embrace what the winter has to offer.  Like life, the winter will eventually change for the better or worse.

Today and tonight I will often find myself imagining a Buddhist witch dancing under the moon.  It always makes me smile.

This past weekend my family pulled out all the boxes and dusted off all the decorations.  It is a family tradition of me gently unwrapping while my children try their hardest to break everything sparkly that they touch.  They are excited and a bit crazy with anticipation.

Since shortly after my husband and I got married we made a tradition of buying an ornament for the tree whenever we traveled.  There are ones from Venice, Hawaii, Dublin, and even one from Regina.  Santa also brings one every year for each of my children commemorating an event or something special about them to remember each year.

This tradition is not by any means unique to our family but the stories are all about us and our history together.  The kids like to pull out the trinket and have Dad explain where we were when we got it.  The kids are thrilled when they remember the stories.  I love every minute of this.  Even though it can be chaotic at times and I am usually convinced that the kids are going to slice open their feet stepping on carelessly tossed glass decorations,  I am also saddened to know that these young years won’t last forever.

There is no doubt that any family holiday can bring with it mixed emotions.  Many people don’t have the positive memories I share with my kids so Christmas and other family holidays they celebrate are an ongoing disappointment.

If you have had a difficult year full of loss and change then the holiday season can bring with it a certain kind of torture, one that is often ignored and covered up by all the tinsel.  Whatever the loss, whether it be of a marriage, job, health or a death, this time of year can be hard.  Whatever the holiday or tradition these tips can help guide you through the crap this year may have brought.

1. Be kind to yourself.

The biggest problem I see in my office is clients that are way too hard on themselves.  They often list a barrage of “shoulds.”  “I should have… I should… If I could just….”.  So if you feel like you “should” do something try asking yourself, “Do I want to?”  If the answer is “NO!” then perhaps prioritizing yourself is a better idea.  People will understand if you give them the chance.

2.Throw yourself a pity party if you need to.

There is a time and a place for feeling sorry for yourself. If you are going to throw a pity party make it a good one. The occasional day of staying in your pajamas and eating Oreos for supper can’t be all bad. Dive right into your feelings and embrace them with everything you have.  Allowing yourself to feel the intensity of emotion is one way to help move past it.  Avoiding feelings only makes them follow you around like a hungry puppy.  So cry until you run out of tears if you need to. I guarantee you will eventually run out of water.

3.There is no right or wrong way to grieve.

There is no map, timeline or pattern.  There are no stages or predictable emotions.  Grief sucks but sometimes it doesn’t.  Grief is different for everyone.  It can be about joy and celebration or it can be about agonizing, longing and self-doubt.  There is no right or wrong way to feel.  Grief just is what it is.

4. Honour your loss.

During particularly intense moments like holidays, anniversaries, birthdays or other reminders of what you lost, it is a good time to acknowledge the absence in your life. Old traditions may help bring comfort or they might be too painful.  Only you will know for yourself.  Try to find some space to honour your loss.  Things may be different now but that doesn’t mean you need to pretend that the good stuff never happened.  Some people light candles, set places at the table or write letters to lost loved ones.  There can be great comfort in rituals and traditions from the past or creating new ones.  You be the judge of what you need.

5. No one will grieve the same way.

This is the most complicated part of grieving. What is important for you may be too painful for someone else in your family. If your spouse isn’t crying that doesn’t mean he/she isn’t sad.

6. Don’t forget the children.

Children are often forgotten in the midst of change.  Whether the loss be to death, divorce or a family move, it is easy to forget that they are hurting too.  Many children use play as an expression of their grief.  Adults often think that this means that they are fine.

Children young and old will take their cues from the adults in their lives.  Be open, honest and patient with them.  Make sure to give them the opportunity to talk about what they have lost and how they feel about it.

7. Try to forgive others their faults.

People are dumb and insensitive fools.  That doesn’t mean they don’t care.  Many will say things they don’t mean, avoid you and just generally not get it.  They don’t know any better.  Remember you have said and done stupid, insensitive things to people who are struggling too.  All we can do is surround ourselves with good people who love us.  If we have good people in our lives then they deserve forgiveness for these faults.   You don’t have to do it alone.

8. You never have to let go.

One of the most damaging myths that is out there about grief is that grief is about letting go.  Your loss means something, something important.  There is no reason to let go of that.  I believe that grief is about finding new ways to hold on.

Life has ups and downs.  This year may have had more downs.  Hopefully next year will have more ups. You can get through the rough stuff.  The reality is that you don’t have much choice.  So be patient with yourself and follow your instincts. If we listen to ourselves we usually have the right answer about what we need.   Trust yourself.

Every time my family drives by a sign by the side of the road that says “Caution Loose Chips,” my daughter ends up in hysterics. She thinks it is about the funniest thing ever.  I have come to believe every mother ends up as the butt of the family jokes.  At least that has been my experience.

My poor mother used to get picked on and teased on family trips. We would often take it a step or two too far and hurt her feelings.  You see we are a sarcastic family  with a biting sense of humour.  My mom is a sensitive soul at least when it comes to her family. She has a lot of time, emotion and money invested in her three children.  She stayed at home to raise us when we were small.  She gave up her career to focus on us.  This is a sacrifice that I didn’t understand until I became a parent. Children can be harsh critics, and hard on your self-esteem.  Society often gives lip service to stay at home moms but little respect.

When I was 7, my mom went back to work and was very successful in her job.  Her organizational skills, people skills and her creativity were well suited to her new career.  She worked her way up to be manager of a local fabric store.  When the pressure of juggling work and family became a bit much, she retired and once again stayed home.  I was 15 at the time and not all that impressed with suddenly having her eyes more focused on me.  My brothers were already adults and working.  For the first time in my life my mother had 100% of her attention on me.  I was used to the divided attention of a third child.

I recall one incident where I was annoyed for having my mom ask me to help do the laundry.  I was angry that I had to always do the “girl” jobs and never got the lawn mowing chore.  So I attempted to storm out of the house.  My mother was kind enough to stop me at the door and point out I wasn’t wearing any pants.  They of course were in the laundry.

My mother will tell you I wasn’t the easiest teenager.  Although compared to what some of my friends were up to I think she actually had it pretty good.  Still as my children grow I can see the wisdom of many of the things my mother used to say.  Things that we still sometimes tease her about.  Like the time she threw frozen peas at my brother.  He made the mistake of  asking when dinner was after everyone in the family had already asked 10 times and no one bothered to make it themselves.  I can still hear the sound of the frozen peas hitting the floor and our stunned silence.  Thank goodness she was the first one to laugh or I think we would have been grounded for life after the laughter that ensued.

My children have similar stories about me.  I have more than my fair share of quirks.  Some of which my family find pretty amusing.  You see, I love chips.  My husband told the kids that every time he drives past one of those signs “Caution Loose Chips” signs on the road, he thinks of me.  He imagines me running around like a mad woman trying to gather up a spilled bowl of chips so as not to waste a single one.  The kids find this hilarious.  No one gets between me and my chips.

I prefer to think of the sign more figuratively.  I am full of “loose chips.” I’m a bit nutty. Being a parent will do that to you.  It will also make you the butt of some jokes.  My mother showed me that it is a right of passage.  I know how I feel about my mom and why we sometimes like to tease her.  I love her with all my heart, mostly because of her quirks.  So I think my family’s teasing of me is the highest compliment I could ever get.

Most family violence in our society, movies, music and other media goes something like this: the man is intense and brawny, probably in a blue collar job wearing a white tank top and dirty blue jeans.  Oh and he smokes. The female gets swept off her feet. She is more beauty than brains and is completely helpless to his pure masculine charms.  In fact his controlling behaviour is seen as passionate and loving at first.  If they have children, then they are dirty and unkempt, probably a lot like orphan Annie and Oliver Twist.  The violence happens only during a fight.  She probably did something to bring it on or it happened because he is the epitome of evil.

I believe as a society we like to treat family violence as some sort of caricature of reality.  Offenders are often seen as one dimensional angry men.  Victims are weak, defenseless women.  This way it is easier to distance ourselves from the reality of family violence which from the outside is much harder to identify.  Our ignorance helps us pretend that it won’t happen to us or the people we love.  We are, after all, smart well adjusted people that are capable of deep, complex emotions not like the victims I described earlier.  If family violence were to affect us we would take action to stop it.  Or so we like to believe of ourselves.  The reality is that we often are unaware of it or choose to ignore it.

The real face of family violence is the face of your neighbour, or your child’s friend at school.  It is the older lady that you see in the grocery store and sometimes the high school jock. I know many of you won’t believe me but the successful, confident professional woman you see at your doctor’s office is as likely to be a victim as the house wife around the corner.  The guy who coaches your son’s hockey team could just as easily be the victim as his wife.  The A student is as likely to be a victim as the drop out.  Family violence does not discriminate even though we often believe that it does.

How do I know this?  I know this from years of working with it. As a therapist, crisis worker and most recently by serving on the Board of Stop Abuse in Families, an organization that strives to end family violence by supporting families.  Statistics are available but they may underestimate the scope of the problem as many people are ashamed to admit that it is part of their lives.  People who live with the reality of family violence are not weak or pathetic.  They often stay because of love, or at least what they think is love.  Violence, whether it be controlling behaviour, verbal put downs or physical and emotional assaults often is intermixed with closeness, attraction, connection as well as emotional and financial dependance.  That is what makes it so complicated.

Many people ask why victims don’t leave. After all, wouldn’t you?  How can you leave your child’s home if you are a senior living on a fixed income or have health trouble? How can you leave your spouse if you know that may mean losing your children?  I wish I could answer these questions but I can’t.  The answers are unique to everyone.  I do know that their reasons are not mine to judge.  Their situations are far more complex than I could possibly understand without some pretty long conversations.  Minimizing their choices and telling them what to do is pretty abusive if you ask me.  They don’t need anyone else pushing them around.

If you or someone you know suffers from emotional, financial or physical abuse, know that there is help out there and people that understand.  In the Edmonton area you can call SAIF Society or the Crisis Support Centre.

November is Family Violence Prevention Month.  Share this article or these links with your family and friends.  In order to stop the abuse we first need to start talking about it.

Roughly 3 years ago on a beach in Mexico I had the privilege of saying “you may kiss the bride” to one of my favorite couples.  A few months earlier, one of my best friends asked if I would officiate their wedding ceremony.  You see, many Canadian couples that get married in Mexico have the legal paperwork done in Canada and then have the ceremony for friends and family on the beach.  So I needed no qualifications as legally they were already married.

When I agreed to do the ceremony I was overwhelmed with the responsibility.  You see my friend Trina had talked for years about how magical she wanted her eventual wedding to be.  I really didn’t want to screw it up.

I spent a lot of time pondering what makes a good marriage.  Was it love, attraction, respect,  or luck?  In my experience a good marriage is all those things but in my opinion those are not the base.  What I have come to believe is that commitment is the base of a good marriage.

I was married once before in my early twenties.  He was a great partner, a moral person and a smart man.  It didn’t work out.  Not because I didn’t love him, that I didn’t respect him but because at that stage in my life I was incapable of understanding what commitment really meant. I let my goals and my dreams take priority over my marriage.

I see this in therapy sessions with couples.  One or both of the couple feel that their individual needs are more important than the needs of the couple.  For a marriage to succeed, both partners need to be all in.  Often by the time a couple comes to therapy, one or both have already started thinking about how life apart would be better.

The difference between couples that work through problems and those that don’t is very simple.  The ones that make it refuse to see divorce as an option.  At some point both of them decided to stay together and commit to it rather than use a potential divorce as a weapon. “If you (fill in the blank), I will leave.”

I am not opposed to divorce.  That is a personal choice.  There are lots of good reasons to end relationships, violence, abuse, unhappiness or differing values. It is a horrible thing to have to go through and sometimes it is necessary.  The marriages that are worth the fight are the ones that have a firm sense of commitment.  I am lucky enough to have one of those marriages.

Recently I have been reflecting on my marriage.  My husband has been on an adventure of a lifetime.  He fulfilled his dream of running for City Councillor.  It was a crazy few months of knocking on doors, flyering, shaking hands and kissing babies.  Okay, so he didn’t actually kiss any babies because that would be creepy, but you get the idea.  I have had many opportunities to watch him shine and be the proud wife.

I started this journey with the cliche “behind every great man is a great woman.”  As cheesy and condescending as the cliche is, I saw that as my role.  On the days I was knocking on doors I would often stand behind my husband with the intent of letting him take the lead.  This irritated him.  He told me again and again to “stand beside me.”  We would tease each other and on the next door I would instinctively stand behind him again.  And so the conversation would circle for hours.

When I think back to the ceremony on the beach I think I missed one crucial point.  The foundation of a good marriage is commitment but the joy of marriage is watching your partner’s dreams come true.  It isn’t about supporting him in his goals.  It is about standing beside him with the same goal.

“Don’t let people rent space in your brain!”

This is likely the single best piece of advice I have ever been given.  I wish I could remember who said it to me.

It could have been my father.  He used to share with me all sorts of expressions his father would bestow on him like “when I was knee high to a grasshopper” or “flatter than pee on a plate.”  I have never understood when the appropriate time would be to refer to pee on a plate and its flatness.

It may have been one of my clients.  I often get nuggets of brilliance from them.  Someone told me once that grief is like “the puzzle of who you are gets smashed on the ground.  All the work it took to build your life falls apart and you spend the rest of it putting it all back to together in new ways.”  That’s pretty insightful if you ask me.

The saying could have been from a colleague or friend.  I wish I could remember because people rent space in my brain fairly regularly.  When I get pissed off I let them take up residence in my head.  I think and rethink whatever it is that is getting on my nerves.

Anger is a tricky thing.  It is not an emotion that stands alone.  There is always something behind it.  It can be fear, sadness, loneliness, and most often hurt.   Most of the time when people are angry they don’t know why.  Others can often see the reality more clearly.

Anger is often a reason why people show up for therapy whether it be couples therapy or individual.  It has a devastating impact on lives and relationships.   Spouses are mad at their partners and think it is my job to fix their partners so they stop pissing them off.  Therapy never works that way.

Some people are mad at their parents, neighbors, friends, children and sometimes the world in general.  Regardless, they want someone to fix everyone else.

Anger is never the core of the issue.  It is always the mask that covers up and protects people from the real issue.  When this gets out of control it is easy to spot.  We have all seen it.  A person unwilling to listen, a friend unwilling to hear another point of view and worst of all a chronic victim.

So why do I let people rent space in my brain?  I guess for the same reasons the rest of us do.  Fear, sadness, loneliness, and hurt.   So today I am evicting the unwelcome angry residents in my head so that I can make space for the people, places and things that will help me see the real issues or at least be worth the mental space in my head.

Today a six-year-old boy died in my community.  Like every other day he woke up and got ready for school and now he will never come home.  There are no words that can make that any easier to digest.  The reality is raw and unimaginable.

All I can feel is a pit in my stomach and a complete void in my chest.  I can’t even begin to describe the feelings.  My heart breaks.  I can’t help but think of the family, of a mother that doesn’t get to feel her child’s arms again or a father that won’t get to feel the breath of his son’s whispers against his cheek.  I think of the first responders whose job it is to save lives and how they couldn’t this time.  I think of the teachers and how they will try to keep everything as calm and relaxed throughout this day and how their hearts are breaking too.  I think of the bus driver and how this will impact his or her life forever.  There will be plenty of time to ask questions and look for answers but right now my heart breaks for everyone.  I think of the friends of that little boy and how this will be the first time for some of them that they will experience loss.  I wish we could protect children from that inevitable reality.

Finally, I think of my community.  At times like these we all grieve.  There will be crisis workers in the school for the teachers and students.  Victim Services will be in place to help the family as best they can.  They will hopefully have family and friends to share their devastation with.  As a community in the immediate aftermath there is little we can do.  Not yet.  As a community all we can do is show some compassion and wait.

As a community we often forget about our children in times of loss especially the ones not directly involved.  We try to protect them with hushed conversations or avoidance.  We tell ourselves, “They don’t need to be a part of these things” or “They are too young to understand.”  These types of reactions often have unintended consequences.  Loss is an inevitable part of life.  Talking to your children about it is crucial in helping them cope with that fact.

With this in mind I wanted to offer some suggestions on talking to children about grief:

• Be Honest and Factual.  Children need to know they can come to you for the real answers.  If you lie to them, they will learn to look for answers elsewhere.  If you don’t know the answer, tell them that.

• Ask Questions.  It is a good idea to understand what they have heard and what they understand.  That way you can fill in gaps and correct false information.

• Don’t give them more details than they need.  People often ask me about age appropriateness of grief conversations.  I say you should be talking about it as soon as it is relevant in their lives.  Accidents like this make grief relevant to them now if they live in this community, even if it is only because they see you reacting to the events. Your child will let you know how much they need to know by asking you questions.  When they don’t need to know more they will change the subject.  Gory details are only necessary if they ask and want to know.  If they ask about details ask them why they want to know then be honest and factual.

• Use Clear, Concrete Language.  Phrases like “He went to be with God” or “He is sleeping” may make us feel like we are easing the trauma for the child.  Children are not good at abstract thought and usually take these things literally.  It can confuse them and make them more afraid.  Use language that your child can understand depending on their age like “his body stopped working” and “he died.” 

• Talk about feelings, including your own. If you are upset while telling your kids, that is okay.  If you’re angry, it is okay to share that with them.  If you respond openly and honestly then they will learn that their emotions are okay too.

• Move the conversation forward at their pace.  Kids absorb this stuff at different paces.  The conversation may be quick and matter of fact or quite detailed.  Either is just fine.  Your child will tell you when it is time to move on.  You need to follow their lead.

• Make them feel safe.  The reality is your child wants to know what this all means to them.  Ultimately they want to feel safe.  Giving your child tools to help them feel safe is important.  You can’t promise that it won’t happen to them but you can help them see that they have some control in the world. 

• Tell them you love them.  It feels good for us to say and for them to hear.  So tell them until they are sick of hearing it.

When my children come home from school today we will sit down and have a conversation about loss.  We will talk about a little boy that had a devastating thing happen.  We will talk about how we feel about it and how the boy’s family may feel.  We will cry then we will do what we can to make my children feel safe and loved.

Then we will play.  I will hug my children tighter tonight reminded how fragile life is and hoping that this never happens to us.

Krista Osborne, MSW is therapist specializing in issues of grief and loss. 

I’m a Taurus.  When I was a preteen that meant something to me.  I would read horoscopes religiously looking for clues about who I was and what the future might bring.  Mostly I wanted to know if the boy of my dreams had a crush on me.  The predictive power of horoscopes I have long stopped believing in.

My astrological sign does still have some value in my life.  It is a pretty good description of my personality.  I am stubborn as a bull.  My stubbornness is my nemesis and my greatest friend.  After a pretty serious whip lash injury almost two years ago I learned just how awful a character trait stubbornness can be but it is also what got me through it.  After the car accident I continued to take my kids to the park, work, clean, and do almost everything I did before.  The difference is that I usually ended up in severe pain.  One time I remember crying in the grocery store cause I couldn’t make the grocery cart turn the corner at the end of the aisle or my daughter and I both crying at the park because I couldn’t push her on the swing.  She was 6.  I could no longer carry my then 3 year old even though I continued to try.  It was awful but I continued to push through.  I didn’t think I had a choice.

Tauruses can also be stoic.  I don’t think anyone but my chiropractor really understood how bad it was.  I don’t think I understood until he would use some tough love and stern words.  It is like I needed his confirmation that I was actually hurt.  I didn’t trust myself to know if I was exaggerating or making it all up.

In therapy with clients I encourage people to embrace their feelings rather than avoid them.  Pain is one of those feelings people try to avoid.  People will create all kinds of chaos in their life to avoid the most painful parts of themselves.  Usually this causes more devastation in the long run.

One of my clients recently told me that when he is in physical pain he visualizes how his increased heart beat and rapid breathing bring all the healing powers of his body to his injury.  He focuses on the pain and imagines all the oxygen and white blood cells racing to the injury to heal it.  I asked him why he doesn’t do this with his emotional pain.  He couldn’t tell me.  Just like I can’t tell you why I have the opposite problem.  I embrace my emotions and ignore my physical pain.

After over a year of a variety treatments, I started to feel better.  Now I get stiff in the area and I need to stretch it out all the time.  But I learned that I had to listen to my body and sometimes that means slowing down.  The car accident taught me that I need to treat my aging body better.  I needed to start prioritizing my physical health.

So I started to run.  Like any good Taurus I jumped in.  Stubbornness and perseverance are intimately connected.  I signed up for a race and started training hard.  I ran every other day increasing my distance.  My pure determination is an excellent personality characteristic.

I loved running.  I felt great.  Until one day I didn’t. I started dreading running, and started forcing myself out the door thinking it was a phase in my training.  I was stiff and my muscles hurt.  I thought if I ran through it eventually it would get easier again.  My last run was torturous.  Every step of my 9 km was a huge effort.   So I decided to consult my chiropractor again.  He gave me the look.  The look that says.  “Krista, what the hell were you thinking?”  and “Stop being a schmo.”  Yet again I am injured and didn’t know how bad.

The problem with a Taurus is they are too stubborn to ever learn.  The good news about a Taurus is that they are too stubborn to ever give up trying.