Did you know that giving and volunteering stimulate the reward center in the brain, releasing endorphins and creating what is known as helper’s high?
And like other highs, this one is also addictive.
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Author: Marlys Lawry Page 31 of 54
I’m at a coffee shop—one of those fabulous local places where the high ceilings thrum with industrial pipes and funky lighting, and a large garage door is open to let in the mountain air—waiting for two of my creative team members.
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Jim and Michelle are meeting me here to brainstorm over some needed changes to website, brand name, tagline, purpose. Who do I want to reach? What’s the best way to get there?
Which means, stay tuned for some exciting changes!
On a fine spring day this week, I had a hankering (what a great word, hankering … does anyone use that word anymore?) to trek back to the place where I scattered my husband’s ashes after he died of cancer, after he lived much longer than the original prognosis: Ten preposterous, brimming, courageous years with late stage disease.
Broken Top standing guard over a frozen Todd Lake
Do you think there’s a difference between being spontaneous and being impulsive?
Today is National Honesty Day, founded in the early 1990s by M. Hirsh Goldberg. Can I just be honest and whine for a minute?
Credit: Bill Watterson, Calvin & Hobbes creator
A number of fellow travelers accompanied me through this week. And I’m pretty sure—based on the therapeutic sheer pleasure of hanging out with them—I’m much healthier than when the week began.
There was the cancer-kicking, wilderness-hiking posse at our season opener: Six gentle miles along the Metolius River.
Photo credit: Mike Gibson
Back when my husband, Gary, and I first heard those epic unbalancing words: “You have cancer,” my thoughts went to, What next? Where do we go from here?
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Last evening, the rain stopped; the Pacific waves were calm; and just before the sun went to bed, she gave one final brilliant show. All for my enjoyment while standing at the window of my cute little vacation rental.
Pacific view from my window
It’s gorgeously stormy and gray out. I can hear the pound of the Pacific, even though this tiny quaint vacation rental with its hardwood floors and stone fireplace is shut up tightly against the rain.
My husband, Gary, and I loved coming to the Oregon coast. I haven’t been back since he died, but it’s been on my brave-making list. And so, here I am.
Hubby’s hairstyle designed by chemo
Family and friends gathered in Idaho this weekend to celebrate a life well lived: Mom-in-law Ivalene, who died of complications due to pancreatic cancer.
Jack and Ivalene Johnson, 1946
Since yesterday’s Celebration of Life service, a few random thoughts have been swirling in my brain:
Self-care was something I didn’t do well in the final months of my husband’s life. Because I could do it all myself. Because I didn’t want to bother other people. Because self-care sounds rather selfish, self-centered, self-conscious.
But it’s not. Self-care is simply seeing to our physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual health so we can better care for others.
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