Invisible Illnesses

We tend to think of disabilities as something we can see. If a person is in a wheelchair or has a seeing-eye dog, we can immediately identify the nature of his or her disability. But not all conditions are so obvious. Diabetes, depression, degenerative disc disease, lupus, chronic fatigue syndrome, high blood pressure, and bipolar disorder are not visible.

People may be candid about their health issues, or they may not wish to share what they consider private. The problem with masquerading as a healthy person is that most such problems create limitations. If the underlying condition is a secret, it's hard to explain why some activities are off limits.

There is no easy answer to the question of whether to be open or discrete. Sad to say, many illnesses are still stigmatized, which makes the choice all the more difficult.

If there is a lesson to be learned here, it is that you have no idea what someone else is dealing with in terms of health. It could be anything from a headache to heart disease. My advice is assume it's something, and behave compassionately.

Rules to live by: Learn about it; write about it

I am the first to admit my marketing has been somewhat scattershot up till now. Therefore, no one was more surprised than I that something was working. People were finding me on the Web. Actually Google and Yahoo! were finding me, which is the name of the game. Still, I knew I wasn’t planning; I was shooting from the hip. My resolution for 2011 was to meticulously plan my Web marketing for the year.

I love charts; so I made a chart. Down the side were the months; across the top were themes and communications vehicles: Website, e-zine, blogs, articles, major social networking sites, and podcasts. Setting up the chart was a breeze; filling it in was not. How was it that the social media expert I heard last month had a knock-your-socks-off annual plan, not for only one business but for three?

There were so many unknowns. Would I be able to get the guest bloggers I wanted to write for me? Did I know enough to adequately cover the material I wanted to write myself? Did I have meaningful themes to fill year’s worth of ezines, blogs, and all the rest? I did not have definitive answers to these questions.

My entire career as a writer is built on a foundation of research. Learn about it; then, write about it. Not only would writing all of this material require research, constructing the marketing plan would, as well.

That’s what I am doing now—reading, learning, absorbing, planning, writing. Actually, that’s pretty much what I was doing before … without the chart.

Those were the days, my friend. Those were the days.

I reunited with three old friends yesterday and today—not old as in age but as in how many years we have known each other. We were young when we met or at least much younger than we are now. But time stopped as our conversations slipped into the same intimacy and candor we had shared thirty or forty years ago. It sounds like a cliche to say it was as if no time had passed since we were last together, but that really is the way it felt. Effortless. Relaxed. Real.

Of course, we asked about kids and work and health. Of course, we talked about mutual friends and dredged up half-forgotten names. Remember ______? Have you heard from ______? Whatever happened to ______? And, of course, we pulled out our calendars and made dates.

If we didn't say those were the best of times, we surely thought it. It's not that these are not good times; it is that those times were special. As names surfaced in our conversations, we reminisced about how giving people were in those days. It seemed everyone we knew was willing to share and help and open doors. These three old friends epitomized that generosity of spirit.

Time passes. Some things change. Fortunately, though, some things don't change at all, like the spark of timeless friendships. It can be rekindled in an instant.

Living with Change

Change is unsettling no matter how it occurs. If it happens gradually, we think we are prepared. When it comes out of the blue our lives may be turned upside down. All change involves loss, even when it means a promotion or marriage or a new baby. To gain the new, we lose the old, whatever it may have been, and with loss come a degree of disorientation. If the loss is substantial—a relationship, a job, health, youth—we grieve.

In between the old and the new we fall into an uncomfortable place where we sort it all out until we are able to move forward. Sometimes we may feel we are stuck in that place for far too long.

Finally, we emerge and embrace—or at least, accept—the new. It isn’t easy, which is why change is so often underestimated. But, frankly we have no choice. Life is all about change. Every minute of our lives something changes. Sometimes it is imperceptible; sometimes, dramatic. But moment to moment and day by day, we find ourselves living in a new reality.

Resolved: to live in the moment

My brother-in-law's best friend has been having headaches. They finally got bad enough to send him to the ER, where he was told he had a brain tumor. They operated the next day. The tumor was very large; the prognosis was very bad. It all happened in a matter of days.

Sometimes, life changes faster than that. We are never prepared. We had a storm in St. Louis last week. It was unseasonably warm, and a rash of tornadoes ripped through here, flattening houses and business in its wake. True, this is tornado alley, but not usually in the middle of winter. Fortunately, there were no fatalities, but a lot of people came close.

We take life for granted. We take health for granted, until we lose it. Is it human nature or just our western culture that blinds us to impermanence? Would I live differently if I remembered that all I can be sure of is this very moment? I know I would.

Resolving to live mindfully—being totally aware of NOW—would be a good way to begin 2011.