The Fine Line

Practicing compassion, caring for others and sharing their problems, lays the foundation for a meaningful life, not only at the level of the individual, family or community, but also for humanity as a whole. ~ His Holiness, the Dalai Lama


People say that there are only three seasons here in Maine: Summer, Autumn and Winter. Summer is glorious and we revel in it. The long hours of sunlight, filling our days with the beach or boating. Lovely picnics and laughter well into the warm evenings. Autumn is nothing short of magical. The trees turn colors we only see in gemstones; rich ruby, glimmering topaz and vibrant amber. Winter, while seemingly endless, takes on a rhythm and sense of coziness. The snow blankets every surface and shines like diamonds each morning. Spring, however, remains elusive. Gray skies, torrential rains and fields growing nothing but mud seem to be the norm. The past few days, however, have been exceptional. I have taken to walking my dog, Murphy, and have taken full advantage of the sunshine to get back into shape following my surgeries. Walking has been therapeutic for both my own health, and for Murphy's...as he tends to look more like a Hippopotamus, than a Retriever mix. 


Our long walks have taken us into town, exploring streets we don't normally travel. It's been a bit of an adventure for the two of us.We love setting out in the morning, with no particular destination in mind. We may not be ready for a 10K walkathon, but we are definitely improving our stamina. 


However, a recent walk left me shaken, not from over-exercising, but from my own fears. As Murphy and I lumbered along in our usual mediocre pace, I saw a young man on the road ahead of us. He had a tattered coat, an over-sized backpack that was bursting at the seams and a very long, shaggy beard.  His entire demeanor gave off a threatening vibe. I looked around and didn't see another soul on the road, either in a car or on foot. In short, I was scared to death. I was a woman alone with a dork of a dog on an isolated country lane. 


My conversations with my friend, Jennifer, immediately sprung to mind. Jen is a gifted social worker and teacher on womens' issues of  personal safety. I have learned more from her than from anyone else on this subject. Jen taught me to scream "FIRE!", rather than "Help!" in an emergency....people being who they are are far more likely to respond to the former plea than they are to the latter. I learned that, if someone tries to pull me into a car to hold onto something solid, like a telephone pole or, when biking, to my bicycle. Jen explained a number of ways to incapacitate a would-be abductor. All of these scenarios flashed through my mind in an instant. I felt my heart pounding in my throat as the scary fellow approached. I seriously considered turning my dog around and running as fast as I could in the opposite direction.


In the next instant, I was filled with shame. Here was someone clearly down on his luck, and walking to his next destination. My recent theology class discussion about compassion rang in my ears, and I was horrified to have judged harshly when I espouse kindness above all else. Are my lessons in practicing hospitality, generosity, graciousness and consideration just empty ideals, with no place in my real life? Can I say one thing in an abstract setting and another when faced someone in need? My face burned red with embarrassment.


So, where is the fine line between ensuring our personal safety and practicing altruism? How can we remain grounded in a dangerous world, and be mindful of our own vulnerabilities, while still showing tenderness to those in need? With my thoughts on ways to keep myself (and Murphy) safe, I continued walking towards the intimidating man. I made eye contact, I smiled and said a cheerful, "Good Morning!" to him. He stopped and looked right at me. His gentle blue eyes showed nothing of the 'keep away' signs I'd seen before I spoke to him. Though bedraggled, his entire persona seemed to shift before my eyes, transforming him into a handsome, albeit world weary, traveler. He reached down and patted Murphy's immense head before looking up at me and saying, "And, good morning to you, Ma'am" with such kindness in his face. We exchanged another smile, and then went each in our own direction.


I was reminded of the verse from the book of Hebrews in the New Testament, "Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing, some people have entertained angels without knowing it."  I didn't entertain the young man, nor did I invite him home. I knew that that would be foolish of me. But, I am happy that I showed kindness, rather than rudeness, and a peaceful heart, rather than a fearful one.


Who knows? Perhaps I just 'entertained an angel'. Or, at least, brightened someone else's day. In either scenario, I feel both blessed and grateful for the encounter.

Cabin Fever

Global warming policies and issues aside, we are seeing record low temperatures in much of the northern states right now. As a matter of fact, arctic winds are prevailing leaving states from the Midwest to New England with temps dipping as low -40 in some places. The air is so bone chillingly frosty, that it’s almost impossible to take a full breath into our lungs without experience lung pain outdoors. For most of us, with the exception of my clueless dogs and a few hardy ice fishermen, this means more time inside. It means we'll be drinking warm beverages, cozying up to the fire, piling on extra blankets and keeping an eye on the thermostat. It can also signal preheating our cars before we leave the house and pulling as many layers as we can before we begin to resemble Stay-Puft marshmallow men.

Living in northern climates for most of my life, I've grown accustomed to making these concessions in winter. After all, people who are enjoying temps in the 70's now, will be baking in July, while here in Maine, we'll be quite comfortable. We have learned that a trade off is necessary, in order to 'enjoy' the time later. We've made the made the best of the situation, and we've become pretty good sports about it.

However, being indoors for long periods of time, can also come with it the downside of feeling blue. There are times we may feel slightly depressed or withdrawn, or simply "not like ourselves". We find that we're smiling less, and we're snarky with those we love. In short, we find ourselves with a nasty case of cabin fever. We daydream of long summer days, in which we can sit outside, far past 8 PM, still enjoying the warmth of the rays. We imagine taking off to the Caribbean, where we'll want for nothing, but some sunscreen and a rum drink, served in a pineapple. We contemplate ways to disappear inside our own homes, just for a moment of privacy.

In all honesty, while a little day dreaming can be both therapeutic and soothing, too much can lead to even more feelings of entrapment this time of year. So, how do we combat the Winter Blues? What do we do when jetting off to the Virgin Islands simply isn't an option? Obviously, for people with serious feelings of loss and depression, visiting a doctor is necessary. There are many treatments to help fight S.A.D. available now. Yet, for the rest of us, what's to be done?

Many studies have shown vigorous exercise, at least 3 times per week, can change a person's outlook remarkably. While running on icy surfaces is neither safe nor desirable (for breathing reasons, as well as prevention of slipping), many schools, YMCA's and health clubs offer indoor tracks, Elliptical machines, Stairmasters, rowing machines, and a wide range of classes to get your blood moving...and kick your endorphins into high gear. It can certainly be a challenge to get up and out, and yet, once you make this your 'vacation to yourself', you will find that your perspective can change drastically. In addition, eating plenty of fresh fruits and vegetables can also help boost your immune system, and give you a much needed burst of 'good' energy. My favorite winter foods are Risotto and Ravioli: both heavy in the starch category. I am not depriving myself of them, but just being mindful that too much starch can also trigger feelings of sadness. Also, because I teach Yoga all week long, I would have thought myself immune to the Winter Blues. I've discovered that I'm just as susceptible to these feelings of angst as the next woman...when I'm not directly practicing Yoga. My answer has been to begin running. My daughter has made me CD's to run to, and before I know it, I've done a few miles on the indoor track while embarrassingly singing to the Black Eye'd Peas.

So, if you can't fly to Mexico, and if a vacation to Hawaii is out of the question, take special care with your diet and exercise. I realize this is not rocket science nor ground breaking advice. And, yet, when we really focus on those areas we can control, it's amazing how much better we can feel. It's hard not to focus on what we can't do...feel warm, enjoy sunshine and not have to worry about the state of our snow tires. But, by using on our energy on positive outlooks during this time of year, we can make Cabin Fever somewhat less pervasive.

When all else fails, make a Pina Colada, put on some cool jazz, and watch an old DVD of "Romancing the Stone". Just make sure you make it to the gym tomorrow.

Now you've listened to my story,

Here's the point that I have made:

Chicks were born to give you fever,

Be it Fahrenheit or Centigrade.

They give you fever

When you kiss them

Fever if you live and learn

Fever! 'till you sizzle

what a lovely way to burn... Peggy Lee's immortal version of "Fever"