Word of the Week: Mudita

As a writer and avid reader, I love words and language. I came across a new word recently that I just fell in love with. The word: Mudita. It means joy, but more specifically, it means the joy one experiences vicariously for the successes and good fortune of others. It is the opposite of jealousy.

Mudita. Mudita. Mudita. I think we could use a little more [ok, a LOT more] mudita in this world, wouldn't you agree?

Learning to Walk Again

This isn't something I talk about a lot, but after having been convinced it was worth sharing, I have been opening up more about it.

I have mentioned publically elsewhere that I have RA [retrograde amnesia]. The same thing that caused that also stripped away my ability to walk without an assistive device. I had to use a cane [needed a walker, but stubbornly resisted] in order to barely wobble around my home, a few steps at a time, and a wheelchair or electric mobility scooter when I left my home. My mobility was declining rapidly, as was my overall health. I was told to "accept" it and make plans for my future in an assisted living facility. I was told at the rate I was deteriorating I would shortly be completely unable to walk and be virtually bedridden. I was told that was to be my future. I disagreed.

It wasn't because it was something I didn't want to hear. It was because something inside me told me it was wrong; that my life was not supposed to follow that path-there was something else out there and it did not involve me being an invalid.

I am a prayerful person and though I was not sure if it was just me or if it was really God, the impression I got was that the doctor was wrong and I would walk again . . and see improved health. So, I took another path. I had to rehab my legs myself since I was being "stubborn and stupid" about the whole thing and I stopped all medical treatment [western medicine] in lieu of experimenting with whatever alternative therapies I could find that had something solid or of merit to make them worth trying [i.e. not just hype and a good sales pitch].

 Now, 13 years later, I walk independently and for distances, too. It took a long time, with much of that time spent "eating asphalt" as my legs would wobble and give out from under me as I worked my way up from being able to take only a few steps to now being able to comfortably walk more than 2 miles and with no leg wobbling.

I have had a lot of setbacks along the way; some so devastating I was taken back to virtually square one. It was frustrating, painful, grueling, and oftentimes seemed hopeless. I hit many plateaus that seemed to last forever-plateaus that left me wondering if that was as good as it was gonna get and if perhaps I needed to rein in my tendencies to "dream big" and "push the envelope" in order to just accept the reality that where I was, was where I was going to stay.

Something in me just couldn't "settle". I had to push harder. I had to go further. I had to see just what it was I could really do. Being "stubborn and stupid" is a plus, for that reason, I believe, because I did go further and I keep doing so. Every step is a miracle and every time I go walking [almost daily and 1 mile minimum] I feel overwhelmed with joy and gratitude for something most people take for granted: the ability to put one foot in front of another and not fall down. The ability to have the independence and freedom that being able to walk brings.

I used to do [25 mile] charity walks before I could no longer walk and now, I will be participating in a 5K charity walk in September-my first distance walk and my first charity walk in many years! [I am SO excited!] I am not quite up to 3+ miles yet, but I am working on it and am quite sure I will be there before the walk. Even if I am not; even if I have to drag myself, barrel roll or crawl over the finish line, I will be finishing it. In the Spring I want to to do a 10K [just over 6 miles], so I have a lot of work to do in the months ahead in order to double my distance [from the 3 miles I expect to be able to do in Sept].

Some suggest that is pushing too hard, too fast. As for my thoughts, well, I see no good reason why I can't accomplish the goal. And, there I go, being stubborn and stupid again. ;-)

The moral of this story ties in with a quote from Gandhi, which I will paraphrase: "If you know you are right, take a stand even if you stand alone." Don't let others tell you what you can't do when you know its something you can. Even when yours is the lone voice saying the impossible is possible.

Because sometimes, the impossible really is possilbe. I'm living proof.

Free Soloing: Ropeless Rock Climbing with a Fear of Heights

Though I am absolutely terrified of heights [or more specifically, terrified of the painful splat I just know will occur from the inevitable fall from those heights], I have been known from time-to-time to face that fear head-on and completely surprise myself by what I can do. One such occasion was free soloing (ropeless rock climbing) up a 30 ft cliff face.

The back story of my fear is that as a child, I knew no fear of heights. I was part monkey; climbing and jumping off of or out of everything in sight. I am not sure why I sought such adventure or why it abruptly changed from fun to terrifying.

The paralyzing fear of heights hit me suddenly in high school. I was actively involved in, among other things, the theatre arts program and was going to run the lights for the current play at the time. The gels needed to be changed, so my friend, who was running the sound, and myself were tasked with the job.

As I ascended the ladder from the stage to the lights above it. I was halfway up and without warning, I froze. I could not physically move. My heart was racing and I was overwhelmed with fear. The friend I was attempting to help switch out the light gels was just below me on the ladder and me, being me, thought I was joking around. He had never known me to be afraid of heights. When he heard the shaking in my voice and then realized I was also physically trembling, he carefully climbed up and behind me, in order to gently guide me back to the stage floor, within the safety of his arms.

When my feet touched ground, I collapsed into a heap, sobbing uncontrollably. I had never felt such complete terror in my life. It physically and emotionally drained me; and embarrassed me beyond description. From that point forward, even small heights of only a few feet filled me with overwhelming fear. It was humiliating.

So, back to free soloing: fast forward some years to a canyon with a 30 ft cliff face, routinely free soloed by many. With a little encouragement from a friend, I was able to scale the cliff face,despite the terror I felt and the physical symptoms I was experiencing of a panic attack. I was determined to win the battle and not allow an irrational fear stop me. That self-talked worked, kind of. I was so proud of myself. I had made it all the way up. Of course, I couldn't go back down, because that required looking down and that was more than I was capable of doing at that time, but nonetheless, I climbed a 30 ft cliff face with no ropes, despite my fear of heights.

One of my bucket list items is to conquer this fear. Part of that includes working with an indoor rock climbing facility on being able to easily climb both up and down their simulated rock walls. Additional parts include zip-lining and a hot air balloon ride.

Even if I never completely rid myself of the fear and panic, if I can learn how to get past it and just "do" anyway, I will be satisfied.

How to Play Country Girl and Navajo Indian

*UPDATE*
My sweet, funny, rascal of a friend passed away in December 2013. He is sorely missed. ~Kara

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Growing up, I was participant in and witness to a number of "Cowboys and Indians" and "Cops and Robbers" type playing. It was fun to play that type of action-filled, cat-and-mouse game.

Now as an adult, I get to play something similar, which is "Country Girl and Navajo Indian". Yes, I know the PC crowd will be all over the title. Get over it. He calls himself a "Navajo Indian". [So there!]

Here are a few examples of how we play this game:

I have a neighbor who is a widowed, 70+ year old Navajo Indian man. He likes to flirt with me and tease me.

I tend to walk around with a smile on my face and most people who know me in person tend to think I am very sweet [Hold the snickering, please]. Apparently, I appear to be friendly and very "approachable" to strangers. So, bearing this in mind, my neighbor gets a kick out of saying some truly crazy things to me in order to get me to say, almost with a growl, "NO!" in a very firm, kick-butt kinda way, while scowling. He finds it-that contrast-as well as that blatant feistiness-hysterically funny. He is always trying to come up with new things to say that will elicit that response from me. It's one of the little "Country Girl and Navajo Indian" games we play.

He built a trailer for his pickup truck and moved it into the shade. As I walked past him, he got that familiar twinkle in his eye and said, "I'm gonna put a cover on this so you can sleep in it at night during the hot summer." He got his "NO!" [Dirty ole man! I know exactly where he was going with that thought!] and he about doubled over with laughter from my response, which was a bit more vehement than usual.

He is quite the character.

Then there was the time he tried to get 'creative' with his garden hose when I walked past him. Chuh. I moved too quickly and it would have been too bad for him anyway-I wasn't wearing white.

On more than one occasion he has made a point of telling me how much he likes "white girls". Yeah, I kinda figured that one out.

He told me one time that I should move in with him because [You will love this] I am not getting any younger! I laughed and told him, "Neither are you."

So that, my friends, is how you play "Country Girl and Navajo Indian".