By Crisóstomo Alejandrino José Martínez y Sorli (Metropolitan Museum)
We live on in the memories of others, and it was good to see the name of my late friend Jeff Zaslow in today's essay by EGD's Northshore bureau chief.
By Caren Jeskey
“I quote my father to people almost every day. Part of that is because if you dispense your own wisdom, others often dismiss it; if you offer wisdom from a third party, it seems less arrogant and more acceptable.”
― Jeffrey Zaslow, The Last Lecture
Like Jeff Zaslow did, I quote my father often. “Don’t let the turkeys get you down” is a favorite. Particularly in this season, when turkey and its related holiday has a way of getting even folks with the most copper-bottomed psyches down.
There was an enormous emptiness inside of me this week — I was gutted like the birds we consumed last Thursday. In yoga speak, the solar plexus is a chakra that rests between the chest and the abdomen. It is said to be the center of confidence and also holds one’s sense of personal power, or lack thereof. When I’m feeling nervous, restless, or scared, I often notice a hollowness emanating from that area.
I’m not where I want to be in life, even though I know I have a lot to appreciate and enjoy. If I allow myself to admit it, I want to be footloose and fancy free again. I miss gallivanting off to islands and rainforests. (Though even a crowded movie theater and restaurant would be daring these days). I want to be more successful. I want all of my teeth back. Reuniting with family members is an opportunity to admit what's really going on, or to put on an act and pretend that things are great even if they're not. I wish I’d been more prepared to host my brother and his girlfriend in a grander manner. Instead I was embarrassed by my own life. I wish I wasn't too scared to join them at Rosa's and Buddy Guy's and Thalia Hall in Pilsen. I wish I was the young confident person I used to be. And the regrets just kept coming. I don’t have the children I’d wanted to have. I’m single and renting living amongst families who most certainly own. “Pass the tea and crumpets!” Though I don’t want to be single, my last date (last weekend — a walk through a forest trail on sunny warm day) was so awkward I never want to try it again. At least this one wasn't still married and "in the process" of divorce.
Sometimes I have what those in traditional twelve-step recovery programs call a God-shaped hole, what Buddhists understand as a Hungry Ghost, and what I call a feeling that something is missing. There’s not enough food, drink, smoke, “love”, blissful meditation retreats, Netflix or AppleTV to fill it up. (I cancelled Amazon Prime and Netflix last month and can report that life is better).
The longing to be satisfied has roots in our physical bodies, not just in our minds. The solar plexus is a real thing also known as the celiac plexus. In 1914, Julia Seton, MD (a native of Decatur IL) authored The Psychology of the Solar Plexus and Subconscious Mind.
“The solar plexus is a large collection of nerve cells and it forms the great center nerve generating energy for the sympathetic nervous system … The solar plexus is the home of the ego or spirit of men … From our solar plexus we receive our visions called faith, and when we register them in the field of consciousness of our physical brain, and work them out through scientific human reasoning into tangible expression, then they become facts.”
Stale Edwardian wisdom perhaps. But I'm inclined to learn more about whether there is science behind any of this. Here I was thinking that chakras were too woo-hoo for me anymore, but maybe I'm not done with them yet.
In the still formative years of my teens and twenties, All that Zazz — the advice column Jeff Zaslow took over from Ann Landers in the Sun Times in 1987 — was a voice of reason for me. I wouldn’t listen to my folks, even though they were full of wisdom, but I’d listen to Jeff as I had listened to his predecessor. There was a comfort in knowing that there were simple answers to life’s big problems.
I still believe that’s true.
I have to give Neil a shout out before I go. Just as I relied on Zazz, I turn to EGD for comfort, wisdom, and laughs. Thanks NS.*
Stale Edwardian wisdom perhaps. But I'm inclined to learn more about whether there is science behind any of this. Here I was thinking that chakras were too woo-hoo for me anymore, but maybe I'm not done with them yet.
In the still formative years of my teens and twenties, All that Zazz — the advice column Jeff Zaslow took over from Ann Landers in the Sun Times in 1987 — was a voice of reason for me. I wouldn’t listen to my folks, even though they were full of wisdom, but I’d listen to Jeff as I had listened to his predecessor. There was a comfort in knowing that there were simple answers to life’s big problems.
I still believe that’s true.
I have to give Neil a shout out before I go. Just as I relied on Zazz, I turn to EGD for comfort, wisdom, and laughs. Thanks NS.*
"We are star stuff harvesting sunlight."
— Carl Sagan
— Carl Sagan
* Editor's note: De nada.
I prefer my grandfather's saying for what a lot of people say:
ReplyDeleteIf they put your ideas into the head of a dog, the dog would go crazy!
That's hilarious.
DeleteAlthough I'm pretty sure you've considered this, your career, as with most helping careers, lends itself to a form of PTSD. Listening to people's struggles and trying to help on a regular basis can have a cumulative, depressing effect.
ReplyDeleteMy son's girlfriend is a psychiatrist but I learned early on that when we visit, not to ask about her work. Although I'm very intrigued, I respect her need to temporarily put her patients on a back burner and literally allow herself to breathe.
I learned that during my 25 years as a paramedic. It's not always easy but finding a way to acknowledge the depression and "compartmentalize" helped me reduce those hollow feelings. What kept me going was that no matter how bad I felt, I knew I would feel better, even if I didn't see how at the time.
Great ideas, thank you. I've gotten MUCH better and am no longer even close to burn out, but I have been there. Thank you.
DeleteThanks for the pointer about the Hungry Ghost.
ReplyDeleteI've always wondered what that feeling was...
You bet. I included an awesome talk about it that I feel will apply to anyone who listens. :)
DeleteOh, so it's not just me, then? It's gutsy of you to share these thoughts in this forum, Caren, and I'm sure many appreciate your forthrightness, as I do.
ReplyDeleteBut, damn. We were just thinking about signing up for Netflix again! We're a couple seasons behind on The Crown, after all. D'oh! ; )
I believe it’s crucial to be in touch with all aspects of ourselves and that “an unexamined life is not worth living” as Socrates noticed.
DeleteI also dip out of my analytical mind quite frequently since too much analysis creates paralysis, as they say. Thanks for reading & commenting!
I, too, enjoyed “All That Zazz” for years, and I was both saddened and shocked when its author died so suddenly and tragically. King of the world one moment, gone forever the next. Life is so short and so fragile. You never know.
ReplyDeleteOur American culture puts too much weight on “the holidays”...and we are bombarded with media images of “perfect Thanksgivings” and of what Christmas “should” be like. I call it the Great American Christmas Machine...and it cannot be unplugged. Reality always intrudes on holiday fantasies...those often-stressful family gatherings, the shopping frenzies, the travel woes, the miserable weather, and especially those short gray stretches of December daylight. It's the perfect recipe for the “Holiday Blues"...which are which are so well-known and so common--almost endemic--in America.
I know what it can be like. I spent a number of Thanksgivings alone. I totally hated Christmas and called it Greedfest...until I married a woman who brought its joy into my lonely world. Still get melancholy on New Year’s Eve, though. At the change of the calendar, there’s a big odometer in my stomach that’s turning over a notch. At no other point in the year do I so strongly experience both the passage of time, and of how fleeting life really is. Although I've had them since childhood, those feelings haven't diminished with age. Quite the opposite.
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But for you, Caren, it’s probably deeper than seasonal angst. Your weekly tales from the city have become, like wintertime, a lot darker and more downbeat of late. You especially seem to have developed a fear of public spaces. I'm certainly no shrink, bit I do wonder if it’s more than just what sounds like a lingering symptom of the Plague. Masks can keep out the virus, but there’s no mask for a head. There’s only so much you can do to stay healthy. I hope you can start going out again soon, because you seem to be such a social being at heart.
You're unhappy with your status…a single childless renter in the middle of the affluent, family-centric North Shore. Hardly a paradise for the unmarried...but it's less dangerous than the city. A trade-off. Dating is often awkward and stressful anywhere, and at any age, but especially as one gets older. Keep on keeping on.
I know I’ve already asked you if you’d given any serious thought to relocating to a better place. Maybe it isn’t just you. Maybe it’s your Chicago environment. Maybe you need to move again. Or maybe you could use a long trip--to a warm and sunny island...or a rainforest.
Sorry to hear about your inner struggles, Caren. Hope you can find what you want and what you need. All the best...
Thanks Grizz. Please see my comment to Jakash.
DeleteWalks in the wild are best alone or with a dog. I stopped at the woods at Harms and Golf recently and the deer and coyote were a treat, as the Busse Woods by me have been critter free for several years. A friend always tells me "No regrets", advice that has never taken with me. My father said "It doesn't cost anything to be nice", which makes interactions with strangers during my day most rewarding. Usually. My go to advice is, no matter how bad things are, somewhere, somebody has it worse.
ReplyDeleteJust you appreciate Neil, we all appreciate both of you.
ReplyDelete