These times feel like something is brewing.

Something is brewing, can you feel it? 

[It should be noted that I wrote this prior to the killing of the Insurance Company CEO in NY. I don’t know how you feel about that event but these thoughts originated before that event.]

I grew up in a doctors office. Literally. My mom was the head nurse and office manager of the podiatrist she worked for. Dr. Rezabeck was also a beloved part of our family. Every time he went on a travel, he’d bring me home a souvenir (many of which I still cherish today).

Story time: TW: tragic death. Dr Rezabeck tragically died when I was 20 years old in the office I’m speaking of. My mom was there and delivered CPR but he had a massive heart attack and he was already dead.  He was also the person who taught me about Rush Limbaugh in the early days and would scold me for wearing flip flops. This is hilarious to me now as I’ve become well-versed in foot care and what I know now is opposite of what he used to preach. The more you know, right? Not that I’m advocating for flip flops, because I’m definitely not. He had the view that supportive shoes were best and we now know that’s not always* the case. I’m also not advocating for Rush Limbaugh but it paints a picture. Also, these were different times politically.

Back to me growing up in a doctors office. Dr. Rezabeck was often impressed that mom could complete so many things but that’s because I would go back to work with her after everyone left for the day. She would work and I would play. I’m an only child and I was well-behaved (that’s a different post) and my curious nature would make me helpful and not a nuisance. I wanted to help her. I wrapped instruments, prepped the rooms, and learned to type in that office. I would organize files and do light cleaning. At this time, they kept lipstick in the drawer to draw on skin where something needed marked. My cousin and I would sit in the chair and write all over our feet pretending various ailments were present and needed removing or fixed to match whatever story we were playing out in our imagination.

And I always loved to fill the lollipop container. It was wooden, painted white with big wooden circles.  Painted on the front in the colors of red and blue like the tootsie pops I put in there. The front had words painted in a cursive font: LOLLIPOPS FOR GOOD LITTLE GIRLS AND BOYS.

These are the moments that shape us, right? It’s not surprising my kids come to my office after hours but they don’t really have much to help me with. Instead, they like to use my equipment as their personal jungle gym.

I was present when the HIPPA act become a conversation and then a law. My mom would discuss with me her thoughts on privacy and its value. When she spent more time on the phone than desirable with insurance agents, it was the only time I would see her get truly angry. Her laments of the healthcare system were unending but what emerged from her frustrations was the need to help people. Her anger fueled her compassion in many ways.

Recently, I’ve heard several stories from clients regarding major missteps in the medical world. From botched procedures, to hyper-liability leading to poor treatment, to simple fear mongering practices resulting in trauma that didn’t have to happen. It’s part of the purpose for creating my Trauma Informed/Sensitive approach for clinical settings. 

I’ve worked in various medical settings, I realize the red tape that is driving some of these practices. I’ve worked as a patient coordinator for an MRI company. My job was to organize and manage patients and their fears around the procedure and claustrophobia and needles.

I’ve attended both home and hospital births and birthing center experiences. I can see how various medical interventions—referring to the red tape—can affect the outcome (not all bad!) of a birth experience.

Early in my massage career, I filled the gaps by working in chiropractic offices confirming benefits for chiropractic care. Hours of hold music, getting the run around with no one to answer simple questions. I often had conversations with patients and their default response that chiropractic care should be covered by insurance or it wasn’t worth it?? We have this double bind that services connected to our well being should be covered by healthcare.  It’s important to remember that insurance agencies shouldn’t be in charge of dictating what type of care you receive—that should be decided by YOU with the help of your doctor. Luckily, I want to believe that old view of handling healthcare is truly beginning to change these days. I don’t know anyone truly happy with the way our healthcare system works. With the emergence, due to dire necessity, more healthcare options include affordable self-pay options and doctors moving to concierge models, it brings me hope that one day we’ll see real healthcare and less sick care.

Early on, my mom realized I wouldn’t be in the medical world like she was. When I was around 9 years old, my cousin slid down the side of a mountain requiring stitches in her knees. We removed those stitches in my moms office on a Saturday. I was holding my cousins hand staring at the wound. And maybe it was her squeezing my hand but I’m more inclined to believe it was the pain I could feel in her. I slid out from the supportive role I was in and down the hallway where my my mom found me white as a ghost and the room feeling very tiny in my view. Her dreams of me becoming a nurse slid away after that. I’m not great with other peoples bodily fluids (however, supporting a birth is somehow different!). My takeaway from my experience growing up in a doctor’s office taught me to be supportive of people in all aspects of their health.

Some things you don’t learn or realize until you simply have the time on the planet (a wise client told me that once when I was a bit younger both in age and life experience—2 different things). I look back now and I see my parents volunteering and tending to people. That’s what I grew up around. Mom making food for sick neighbors. Dad cleaning their yard. Collecting toys for needy kids around the holidays. And always ready to be of service.

To be of service. 

I realized recently that something I am very concerned with is how to be of service to people in a real and tangible way. A lot of people are worried and terrified for the future. It does seem as if something is brewing in the universe and it has a bit of an ominous tone. And yet, one thing I know in my bones to be true is that the only thing we have is to turn to each other. Be ready to change and pivot for whatever is coming. And in so many ways, the last 25ish years have been preparing us for that. It’s just more of that. And I know we’re all exhausted.

But I believe there’s something still inside of us that hasn’t been explored fully.

It’s our relationship to ourself that is different than hyper individualism.

It’s divorcing ourselves from simply reducing everything to good or bad.

It’s being with complexities of the human experience.

It’s holding space for joy and pleasure.

It’s cultivating wonder and compassion.

It’s finding life and aliveness in many moments.

And that’s a tall order for most people living in the cycle of the Western World. It cannot be consumed and churned out in an afternoon or weekend workshop. Oh no, this savory juiciness has to be marinated for quite some time. It has to be practiced, contemplated, and then tried on in the real world. Returned back home to contemplate, marinate, and wonder about all over again. Rinse and repeat. But really, what else do we have going on? Getting stuck on the wheel of current politics, sucked into social media algorithms, climbing some proverbial ladder—all for what? Don’t get me wrong, it’s important to stay informed, adaptive to check out at times, and noble to have ambition. But when we’re in these times—these confusing, troubled times, what is really important? I keep asking myself this and the answer continues to come back as the relationship we have with our bodies and  each other and how that cultivation alone could transform our environment.