Gratefulness Therapy

Yesterday, Goodreads sent me an update on one of my favorite authors — Nora Roberts. From what I can tell, Nora keeps a blog through Goodreads, and yesterday, her post discussed all the things she is currently grateful for. She then told her readers to take turns posting their own lists. Most people posted in the comment sections. I thought I’d post mine here.

In these moments of uncertainty and actual physical jeopardy, I’m first grateful for my health and that of the people around me whom I love. I am fortunate to be able to say that no one in my family is currently ill, and although both my daughter and I were earlier this Spring, everyone is now healthy and (in my case) getting my pre-summer fat on in full swing.

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I’m thankful for the amazing place where I live, and the gorgeous Spring weather we have been having. There are few places more beautiful, in my opinion. Right now, with the reduction in traffic, I’ve also noticed that the air is incredibly crisp and clear, the lake cleaner than I remember it ever being.

I’m thankful that we live in a technological age so that while I’m home for an unknown period of time, I can take advantage of Zoom meetings so I have a reason to comb my hair and wear makeup, long drives in the car to keep us healthy but sane, social media communication to keep me in touch with the free world, telephone, music, microwaves, toilet paper, internet, laundry machines, electric lighting and plumbing… you name it. We are so fortunate at this time in history to have so many conveniences at our disposal.

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I’m thankful I discovered Matt Harnacke and his gorgeous horse Emporio a few months back. Eye Candy for the quarantined soul. https://www.instagram.com/p/B-48UGkn6gS/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

I’m so thankful to have writing in my life. I absolutely love having the opportunity to tell stories, and right now, I’m very grateful that the novels I’ve been writing are being well-received. I’m thankful to the readers and to those of you good enough to leave your kind words of praise. You have no idea how inspiring that is, and how it keeps me going with the next project. Recently, I watched a Kenny Chesney video that spoke of the one thing you’d like to give the world. At different times in my life, that would have been differing things. Right now, I’d give stories. Story lets me take the world that is, imagine the world that could be, and link the two.

I’m grateful that my dog loves me unconditionally. She is my little buddy. She is loving this time with us home all the time. She is loving going for walks with my daughter. I’m also grateful that my soft, fluffy, uber-handsome cat has learned some personal boundaries and no longer sleeps on my head at night.

I’m grateful to have a teenage daughter who, although hating being stuck at home when she could be out with friends or playing volleyball or soccer or being at the mall or even being out finding a job, is doing her best to keep her spirits up, and her attitude positive.

I’m thankful for free Ebooks, and for reruns of The West Wing and Bones, and for other people’s music playlists, since I’m sort of sick of my own.

I am thankful to have time on my hands — probably for the first time since I was a teenager. I have finally had a chance to catch up with all the marketing I needed to get done, to update my website, to write some E-letters. I have finished writing one novel, and am 15,000 words into the new one. I also released a third earlier than planned. Next week I start editing the novel launching in July, and yesterday I started taking business courses through Linkedin learning. So far, I’ve had a quick info session on how to use Gmail better, a course on story telling for marketing, and a documentary on urban planning through technology. (That one is for a character in a book. I don’t have plans to tackle this myself any time soon). Soon, I’m going to buckle in to learn how to use Instagram for business.

I’m also thankful to own my own home and have low associated costs of living in this time of financial uncertainty. I’ve been making plans for low-cost home improvements I can tackle these next few weeks. I started hacking away at the overgrown bushes in my yard, and also plan to create a garden area. I am going to re-purpose a pair of truck rims left over from when my son sold his beater truck and turn them into summer planters for flower gardening. I’m going to repaint the peeling paint on my front patio, get the staple gun out and fix some spots where the patio carpet is coming up, and fix the screen door so that if we are still quarantined here once summer hits, we can get a breeze flowing through the house without letting the dog get out.

I’m also going to have a go at fixing the roofing on the patio. The corrugated roofing panel blew off in a wind storm awhile back, so I’m going to have a go at replacing that. I’m going to get some inexpensive patio furniture and a new barbeque and set up a little outdoor eating nook.

I’m thankful because I haven’t had the time to even catalogue all the things needing to be repaired around here, let alone tackle them, and now, for the next few weeks, I actually have time to start attending to them. As well, I’m thankful that I work for a company which prioritizes the health of its staff, so my needs are being provided for during this crisis.

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I’ve been thankful to have the time to cook proper meals, although with just myself and Sheena here, they sure do stretch a lot longer. So, I have a freezer stocked with leftovers — and I’m thankful for that, too. I’m also thankful for this book of muffin recipes that I get to try.

I’m very grateful to have people who are still working while I am home. On the flip side, I’m thankful to finally feel rested after a long time of working one job, then coming home and working a second.

I’m thankful for all the health care workers and the essential service workers, and I am so glad to be Canadian. We live in a great country with universal health care, and a government who has been proactive and also has been reflective enough to re-work assistance which has been incomplete or inadequate. I live in a country that is taking care of its citizens, with a leader who is taking this virus seriously. I am thankful for Canada, and for the job Trudeau and our other leaders are doing.

I know there are people who are grieving, and I know there are tough times ahead as the economic engines of our world start to reignite. For now, all my needs are met, I am healthy, I have time to accomplish so many things, and I live in a wonderful part of the globe.

So, that is me. What, in the middle of these stressful times, are you thankful for?

 

 

Sunshine and Staying Inside

Today, I am having an odd reaction to self-isolation — I am feeling an intense sense of gratefulness and love which I can’t seem to shake.

Don’t get me wrong, I haven’t felt that way everyday, but today, the sun is out, and even if I am sitting inside, my heart feels as bright as the sky outside my window. I’m going to enjoy this feeling while it lasts. I know it might not.

My elder daughter turned 23 on February 23, and that morning  a group of us all went out for breakfast at Denny’s. My younger daughter woke up that morning with a serious headache a sore throat and no appetite. She was annoyed, because she’d been looking forward to the breakfast. We didn’t really think much of it beyond that. She’d been to a volleyball match down at the Coast and I figured she picked up the flu at the tournament. I knew she was really sick when she voluntarily stayed home from the afternoon’s practice.

She missed several days of school and another practice mid-way through the week, and I played nursemaid. Even after she got better, she was exhausted and finding it hard to keep up with the volleyball training. With her being an A-type personality, I reminded her she had been sick — she should expect to be dragging a bit until her energy fully returned. It took her over a week. Eventually, though, she was back at full-power.

Approximately two weeks later, I had an appointment to get my taxes done, and for no apparent reason, I couldn’t stop coughing all the way through that appointment. I didn’t feel sick at all, but as luck would have it, I’d been scheduled to have an interview for a promotion that afternoon before my shift at work. People had started to talk about Coronavirus — it was already significant in China and heading that way in Italy — so I called in to see if they still wanted to go ahead with the interview. She postponed.

But I wasn’t sick. So, I went to work. I kept going all that week. By Thursday, I felt like maybe I was coming down with something — achy, and my temperature regulator seemed off. But, I certainly didn’t seem to have any of the dramatic symptoms being described in the news. Friday the 13th, I woke up with a crazy headache, and nothing I threw at it helped. If you’ve read my previous blogs, you know that by the end of my shift that day, I knew I was sick. My throat was raw, felt a lot like strep throat. I got my shift covered for the following day.

And I really was sick. It felt like the flu — but different. I honestly don’t know what I had. But to make a long story short, I missed another shift, then another, and I was still coughing. By then, the virus had started to explode around us, and I really didn’t know what to do. Ultimately, I drove into work, then once I got there told my boss, I just don’t think I should be here. It felt socially irresponsible. She sent me home, 811 told me to stay there, and my company committed to paying two weeks of salary so I could self-isolate. Then, three days later, my store location closed completely. Which means, now instead of two weeks of salary, they have me covered for four weeks. After that, I suppose I am with the rest of unemployed Canada — thankful for Prime Minister Trudeau’s commitment to keeping the population cared for.

At first, I was too sick to do be anything but tired. Then, my appetite came back. Then my energy. Then I started to get productive.

My daughter’s volleyball league cancelled first one match, then another, then all of them. Season over. Her school, which is on spring break, is also on indefinite leave. The possibility exists that they might go online, but with libraries closed, this may not be a solution for everyone. Sheena is used to going mach ten at all times, and now she is home, no school, no sports, no friends — she has been amazing about it, but it is hard. Could be worse — we both recognize that — still, if I don’t find her something else to do other than bake, I am going to weigh 300 pounds before this is over.

Like everyone else, I spent way too much time watching news reports. Because of my novels, I recently joined Twitter, and that place is like a warzone — one I find myself too easily pulled into.  The Stupid Things People Say may just be my next book title, and it is going to be based on the anger all over the Internet.

I’ve kept in touch with a customer from work. I follow his photography on Instagram. He recently said to me, “I don’t think things are going to be the same after this.”

I think that might be true. I think after this, there is going to be a lot of grief and anger people are dealing with. Some people are going to lose a lot. That is going to be hard to accept. I mean, how do you get angry at a virus? Or a DNA sequencing glitch, or whatever this thing is. How do we get angry at something so small stripping us all of our facades of invulnerability, our vanity and arrogance, our beliefs in superiority and invincibility? How do we get angry at an illness when it shows us that the world is not what we thought it was and reminds us that our place in it is so insignificant?

It is so much easier to be angry at the guy who bought out all the meat, or the toilet paper hoarders, the politicians, Donald Trump. Not that there aren’t consequences to actions, not that people don’t say dumb and objectionable things on Twitter and Facebook, not that some leaders aren’t more adaptable than others, more wise than others. The thing is, as I’ve listened to the news, perused social media, stayed indoors despite the sunshine and have limited my social interactions with family to virtual ones, I keep realizing that we are all in this together. Some people are taking this more seriously than others, some are sick and some are not, some may lose and some may not, but I’ve realized, people say dumb things and do dumb things because they are human. Because underneath the bluster, they are afraid. No one knows how to handle this perfectly.

I’ve realized that underneath the hoarding, the bulk buying, the social media venting and cursing there is selfishness, yes, there is ugliness and frustration, also yes, but mostly there is fear. It is one thing we are all experiencing. It just looks differently on some of us than on others. Maybe not everyone is afraid of getting sick and dying, but everyone is wondering what it all means, what will our world look like after all of this ends.

We are the same.

There seems to have been the beginnings of a shift — or maybe today was just a good news day or I am more optimistic now that I am feeling healthy again — but I am reading more good news than bad today. People who have been fighting the illness are recovering. Others are finding creative virtual ways to connect through online arts groups, chat groups, etc. Whitespot had a drive-thru breakfast to raise funds for the food bank, someone organized a drive-by birthday party parade for children who are unable to have birthday parties — and complete strangers are parading their vehicles past birthday children with banners and balloons. Bauer is now making masks, a family run vineyard is teaching their children about business in their vineyard while they home school.

The police, other front-line workers, doctors, nurses, grocery store clerks and other essential workers seem to be getting more veneration than I’ve personally seen at any other time in history. As is right. I’m sure people will be back to hating soon enough, but right now, I feel so much deep gratitude for these people who are continuing to work to keep us all safe and healthy and fed — even while their own lives are jeopardized and their own families are experiencing all the strains the rest of us face. Perhaps Americans experienced some of what I am feeling after 9-11, but this is a greater level of awareness of all the societal elements working to improve my personal well-being than I have personally experienced before. Within these moments of stress, I feel this undercurrent of gratefulness for the country where I live, the policies we live by, the politicians and others working to get us all to the other side of this pandemic. It is a warmth of feeling that supersedes the daily worries.

I had a video chat with my co-workers this morning, and it was great. I miss them all. Today was a moment of connection I didn’t even know I needed. Yesterday, one of the members of my book club sent out an email saying let’s go virtual, and one of the technologically inclined guys in the group suggested zoom — says it is easy.

This morning I felt a degree of appreciation for being part of these social groups that I normally overlook. I mean, I always like everybody, and I’m glad to know you. This morning, I just felt like I had to restrain myself from gushing out how much I love everyone — which seems to be my mood of the day. Hey, family, hey friends, hey complete strangers I’ve never met — I love you! We are all part of the same team — team beat the virus and team human and team Earth. I don’t know that I’ve ever experienced this sense of universal connectedness in quite the same way — and it took dismantling everyone’s daily lives and putting us all into isolation to make it happen.

I’ve spoken to my sister more this week than probably in the past month. Normally, we both live very busy lives. Right now, we get to check in everyday.

My eldest son’s wife called me for a soup recipe last night. They are stuck in a tiny bachelor suit apartment and there is a confirmed quarantine in their building, yet they seem happier than ever together — which is amazing to see.

My elder daughter’s boyfriend told me he loved me (you touched me, David – sob).

I learned something I didn’t even know about my younger son — he likes to do puzzles. What?? I hate puzzles, unless it is the puzzle of figuring out what happens next in the book I am writing. He does not get that from me.

He got it from my mom. She was sappily thrilled when I called her this morning to tell her about the mark she’s left on her grandson.

And my youngest? Last night when I was going to bed she was up making these amazing chocolate chip cookies. I had them for breakfast. Help. Somebody save me.

Last night I stayed up late playing on Canva and generally procrastinating on novel writing. I created a new release announcement — and seven bookmarks featuring the covers of seven different novels. They are my next series. I’ve only got one written so far, but I’ve got plans.

The night before that I was up until — well, I am not even going to tell you that. I started off researching the costs of hiring someone from Fiverr to read my books in order to create an audio book. When I realized how expensive it would be plus listened to a lot of really droning narrators, I decided, hey, I used to record songs, I have all the gear, I will just download Reaper and narrate the things myself. So, then I was up for hours recording myself narrating snipets of my novels onto my phone just to see how I sounded.

It is not the easiest thing to do, lemme just say. I speed up. I stumble over words. I add verbal stressors in places they don’t really belong — hats off all you actors! You make it look easy. And yet, after awhile, I thought, hmm, not too bad. I could do this. My favourite was the snippet I wrote for my art heist novel. Every third word was an f-bomb. Apparently, I make a decently convincing villain. Of course, then I thought, hey, why not call up my friends from the actor’s studio. Delphine. Jerome. I work with one of them. I watched the other grow up. They could do this…

I vibe on the creating. I get lost in the creating. I don’t even notice that it is two in the morning and I am still creating. I’ve informed my boss that I have reverted back to my preferred sleeping patterns and will need to be reintegrated gradually when that day comes.

I know that this pandemic fight isn’t over. There is a longer struggle ahead. I know I may not feel this cheerful tomorrow, and even by tonight I may be back to the unbearably snarky comments people who are afraid make to one another on twitter. Fear, I’ve realized, often looks a lot like hate. But right now, for today, I keep realizing another level and another of what is truly important and what is not. People are. Toys are not. Health is. A tan is not. Friendship is. Family is. Encouraging others is. Creativity — whether in innovative ways to fight this disease, in traditional ideas of writing, singing, painting, drama etc. (adapted to a virtual stage) is. Drive-by birthday parades definitely are.

Trying to love better and understand better and empathize instead of villainize — these all are. So, maybe Dan will be right.

Maybe, when this is all over we will remember what is and is not important.

And life as we know it will never be the same.

 

Stranger than Fiction

So, here’s the T — I’ve been sick. My last shift at work was Friday, although I will be going back tomorrow (Wednesday). Because of this, I’ve got some thoughts on March of 2020 and the Coronavirus world as we know it.

On Friday morning, I woke up with a nasty headache. But, I get headaches, so for me, that was nothing new. Also, on Friday, the North American continent hadn’t fully exploded yet. I headed in to work.

By about 10:30, my throat was feeling a bit raw. But, I talk all day at work, and sometimes that happens. By about noon I knew something more than that was going on. Shortly after that, my boss asked if I would be willing to cover a shift at a different store the following day. I had to tell her, unfortunately, I’m not feeling great. She gave me lozenges and asked if I would like my next shift covered. I gratefully said yes.

By two, she had pulled me off the floor to work in the back. Again, I was grateful. My throat was sore. It was hard to talk. I could feel the energy dissipation happening. By the end of my shift at 4:30, I ordered a big honey citrus mint tea, drove home, then sat in my car and tried to find enough energy to get out of the car and walk inside my house. Once in, I snagged a blanket and pillow and collapsed on my couch while feeling grateful that the day before I’d hit the grocery store and managed to purchase everything we needed except — you guessed it — toilet paper.

I slept all night. Slept until noon on Saturday. Slept on and off throughout Saturday. Slept Saturday night and into Sunday. I also fielded contradicting opinions from loved ones. You should go to get checked for the virus. You should call first and then go get checked for the virus. You shouldn’t bother calling — you won’t get thru, anyway. You should definitely not go get checked for the virus. You shouldn’t bother going to get checked for the virus because you haven’t been out of the country, and you aren’t over sixty. They wouldn’t even check you for the virus even if you went in to get checked for the virus.

What was a girl to do? By Sunday I was pretty sure I just had a seasonal something or other. I didn’t have a fever, my cough was present but mild. I felt crappy. That was my most significant symptom. Yet, that nasty word asymptomatic was circling in my head. I must have read and reread the list of Coronavirus symptoms a dozen times. And, since I was home, awake but not feeling healthy enough for the mental acuity required of novel writing, I watched the news and social media posts of a world systematically closing down — all while my teenage daughter wondered what this all would mean to her Spring Break, her Volleyball league, her grade eleven classes, her social life.

By Sunday afternoon, I had started to feel like I was improving. Say what you will about our grandparents going to war and we’re just sitting on a couch, I might not be so great at quarantine. Both my daughter and I were hugely restless after being confined to the house for only two days. We took our “quarantine” on the road — and just took the car out for a drive in the sun. By the time we got back an hour later, I was out of energy, and realizing my health might not be as improved as I had believed. Well, crap. Back to the blankets for me.

I tried to write. I tried to read. I tried to avoid social media. And while I’m on that topic, lemme just say, when there is a global pandemic going on and you are home with the flu (90% sure), stupid-ass memes about the non-lethality of Coronavirus are offensive, not funny. So stfu people. All I’m saying is… Also, a status post from my friend, Trevor, gave me the jarring bit of info that thanks to my December birthday, I have jumped the fence into a higher-risk age category. I mean, still low, but not as low as five months ago. So, yeah, thanks for that, Trev!

My boss called to see how I was feeling. I told her the truth, mostly by now I am just exhausted, but I don’t see how, given the world’s emotional climate, I can return to work quite yet. I’m still coughing, and I sound congested, and I would freak people out. Fortunately, I wasn’t meant to return to work until Tuesday, so I had another day to make that decision. She let me know there were changes at work, there was also a pledge from the company that they would pay the salary of any staff member needing to self-isolate. I love my employers. Honestly, I came from a difficult work environment. Now, I work for a big company who treats its people like gold. So thankful. Insert heart emoji here.

That still left me with a conundrum. Do I stay or do I go? With the symptoms I have, I would never normally not go back to work. I’d just power through. I mean, that first shift, yeah sure. But four days later? Get real. But, these aren’t normal times. I haven’t been tested to rule out Coronavirus. So, I don’t know that I don’t have it. But, I’m not exactly sick, either. And apparently, I am wanted back at work at my earliest convenience. Something about being a steadying and reassuring presence yadayadayada. (JK. I was touched she said that.) So, how do you decide if you should self-quarantine or not? I have no idea.

And it starts to make you a bit paranoid. Which is why, Sunday night, with my sleep schedule by now completely shot and out the window, I lay in my bed taking deep breaths and listened to the slight rattle I perceived coming from my lungs. Was that pneumonia? What about that? How about that? What does pneumonia feel like? Oh, the curse of being a generally healthy human being!

Monday. I FOUND TOILET PAPER!

Monday. All Alberta and Saskatchewan schools closing and students getting an immediate pass. How is that fair? Sheena informs me that should her classes go online, she is immediately dropping Chemistry and Spanish. Still not 100% healthy, I save that fight, slot it into the should-that-day-come category of parenting.

Monday. Restaurant closures. Neighbours reporting being laid off. Theatre closures. Pool closures. Library closures. Curling club closures. OK Corral closures. West Jet closures. Basically, if it’s fun, it’s closed. I inform work I need one more day off.

Monday, tragedy strikes: Volleyball is cancelled. Teenage depression off the charts. And then…

I send out a group email to my older children. Sheena’s volleyball just got cancelled and she is sad. Anyone wanting to console her should do so. All three siblings immediately send empathetic notes. Brian and his girlfriend come over with fast food. I go out to drive my eldest daughter home from work. We compare stories. She works for Indigenous Bloom. Even they are talking about potential closures. I tell her I feel people will really panic if even the legal pot dispensaries close. We laugh. It feels good.

I return home and the youngest child greets me at the car. This means she thinks if she produces a smile cute enough, I will take her out for a drive. I balk. The fourty minute visit with the eldest daughter has exhausted me. Sheena then informs me, I am not allowed into the house as Brian and his girlfriend are working on a surprise. I drive the youngest child to 7/11 where she buys Slurpees for them, coffee for me. We return home, and the youngest son and his girl have cleaned my kitchen. As John at work says, it sparkles. Apparently, it was even my son’s idea, and then Daelyn took the reins and things got done right — fridge and stove pulled out and mopped under and everything.

I crash back onto my couch and the dog jumps on top of my hip and settles in for her nap. Brian, Sheena, and Daelyn all go out to Dae’s house. Sheena is happier than I’ve seen her all weekend. My little extrovert daughter finally has someone to talk to other than her boring, flu-y mother. I zone out, post the thirteenth picture on my phone on people’s Facebook walls. Stumble across Keith Urban, live streaming on Instagram. He’d had a concert cancelled, and it bummed him out. It is St. Patrick’s Day, after all. So, he rigged up some background tracks and some lights in the warehouse where he keeps oh so many beautiful guitars. And with wifey Nicole Kidman dancing around audience of one style, he played a thirty minute live-stream set which absolutely lifted my spirits and reminded me that the world hasn’t ended yet.

This morning, I’m at 90ish percent healthy. I get up and ready for my day, and jump onto Castanet. American news isn’t fun right now since hating Donald Trump doesn’t seem the most productive use of my energy — despite the fact that he rates his response to this crisis as a ten. That’s cool. The world can use a good laugh right now.  And to be fair, I wouldn’t want to be the leader in charge of a country right now, so yeah, whatever, Castanet it is. Micro-news is likely the best way to go at present, anyway.

And Castanet, this morning, rises to the challenge of improving my mental health.

Apparently, Keith Urban isn’t the only musician doing free concerts. Chris Martin and John Legend did, too. Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively donated a million dollars to food banks — half in the States, half in Canada. Tom and Rita were released from hospital. An Okanagan College exchange student has decided to stay in Spain so she doesn’t risk travelling and making people at home sick. She talks about people in Spain sharing items with each other, talks about people cheering the health care workers at the end of their shifts.

And I think, we get to choose who we want to be, how we want to respond. I think, we get to celebrate the resiliency of the human spirit, we get to support those in our community who are suffering as a result of March 2020. We get to take a look at what is really important, what really matters, and hopefully, carry that reminder with us through April and May and into the future when we are all up off our couches and getting back to the work of being part of both local and global citizenry.

 

Peppermint Oil and Voxx Socks – Part One in the First Day of the Rest of My Life

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Sometimes you just know what you know. I know peppermint essential oil and VOXX socks have improved my quality of life.

Ten-ish years ago, I suffered a triad of athletic injuries. First, I tore all the ligaments in my shoulder during a tennis forehand. Second, I tore all the ligaments in my ankle during a tennis dash to the deep far right of the court. And a year later, I tore my hamstring while doing the splits in yoga. No irony there.

The hamstring injury hurt the most at the time, but now, years later, that is but a distant memory, while both tennis injuries have worsened over the years. They have brought both vocational and recreational changes to my life. This year, when the repetitive motion of putting stamps on envelopes at my desk job was enough to send me home with burning shoulder nerves, I decided, okay, I can’t afford it, but I’m going to look into physio therapy. Clearly, I can’t afford not to. I’m too young to live this way.

And then, by fluke, if you like, by divine intervention, if you prefer, one week after deciding this, I ended up at an outdoor artisans fair. I thought I was going to look at local art works.  Instead, I found two booths, side by side, which have both contributed to changing my quality of life. One of the tables had a big jog of cold lemon water and a bunch of essential oils on display. The table beside them had socks.

At the first table, I stopped in my browsing to read a poster labeling the parts of the foot. The literature claimed that VOXX Life technology could help with foot pain and with balance. Their tool? Socks.

This wasn’t normally a claim I would waste any time on. It turns out, I am a bit of an alternative medicine sceptic. Then the woman manning the booth invited me to remove my shoes and step up for an experiment, and because I was getting desperate for some improvement in my health, I gave a mental shrug, and shucked my flipflops.

“Okay,” I said, “But I have a bad ankle. I already know I’m going to be bad at this.”

With bare feet, I stepped onto the board she indicated, then made fists with my wrists, and placed them on top of one another underneath my breastbone. The woman then placed her hands on top of mine, and pushed down. I immediately toppled. I inadvertently pitched forwards and stepped off the board.

“Okay,” she said, bending over to place a pair of insoles on the board, “Now stand on these, and fold your hands again.”

I let her position me correctly on the insoles, placed my hands as instructed, and let her push her weight down on my hands a second time. She added enough force that my arms dropped down several inches, but I… didn’t budge. It was a startling and dramatic demonstration.

I stepped off the board, put my flipflops back on, and followed her back to a rack of socks. Where I caught my first glimpse of the price tags. Ouch. $40 for a pair of ankle socks.

Normally, I’d never pay that kind of money for socks. I raised four kids on my own, so I can be frugal. Forty bucks can fuel my car for a week. Forty bucks can pay half of my cable bill for a month. Forty bucks will send my daughter away for a weekend with her volleyball team and put food on her plate while she’s there. On the other hand, physio is going to run me a lot more than forty bucks. Even if I am throwing my money away, giving these socks a chance might be an affordable alternative.

I deliberately didn’t bring any cash with me as I perused, but I put my name down on the woman’s pre-order list, and when she contacted me by email a few days later, I charged it. Then I jumped on the VOXX Life website to see what exactly it was that Canada Post was speeding my way.

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VOXX Life is a company which spent six years developing the technology in their products. They studied “decades of research in brainstem functionality and the peripheral nervous system, and also reviewed the latest research in sensory mechano-receptor mapping,” and also a bunch of other health science stuff (https://voxxlife.com/15-2/).

At VOXX, they wanted to know how the brain’s sensory receptors, the peripheral nervous system and the brainstem interact. Then they wanted to implement what they learned into a line of products designed to increase balance, manage pain, and generally improve energy and function.

VOXX discovered that the relationship between the brainstem, peripheral nervous system and the brain’s sensory receptors are interconnected. They work together to gather sensory input and create motor output. The brainstem connects the brain to the central nervous system, relaying signals between the brain and the spinal cord. The brainstem  also “controls several important functions of the body including pain management, alertness, arousal, breathing, blood pressure, digestion, heart rate, swallowing, walking, posture, stability and sensory and motor information integration.”

VOXX developed technology with a “very specific sequence and pattern of neuroreceptor activation on the bottom of the feet that triggers a signal that aides in the brainstem reaching homeostasis.” In other words, wearing VOXX products triggers the brainstem to signal the brain in ways that induce a relatively stable equilibrium between all three elements of the body. These trigger point patterns are woven or molded into footwear products. The results people saw were significant enough that the technology was then sold to the army and to professional athletes.

The result VOXX users observed included improved posture and balance, improved mobility and energy, and generally reduced or more easily managed pain levels. VOXX says, “The concept is simple. The science is proven. The results are extraordinary.” I just say, “It works.”

When you get your socks, you are instructed to keep them on 24/7 for a week. Apparently, they come with an antibacterial ingredient which allows this. You can wash them in the machine when necessary, but hang to dry. I followed these instructions religiously. Within three days, I no longer recognized myself. The difference was undeniable, yet I tried to deny.

“This has got to be a placebo,” I said, pretty much to anyone who would listen. So, I took a day without the socks. Not, I was forced to concede, a placebo. VOXX technology is the real deal. I was so convinced, I signed up as a rep.

My job at the time was largely sedentary, but I’d also worked at a fast-food restaurant on the side briefly. I remember sitting in my car after one eight hour shift unable to drive out of the parking lot because my ankle was spasming. That feeling when your leg has gone to sleep and the circulation is returning? That was happening all at once — and was focused in my Achilles tendon to the point that I was unsafe to drive home. I’d also, on more than one occasion, had my foot simply collapse underneath me as I walked up the four steps to my patio. It’s a terrifying thing when you are a relatively young woman and with no advance warning, your foot simply crumples underneath you. All this changed.

I started taking walks. I resumed swimming. I started jogging up my stair case. I quit my sedentary job and took jobs requiring me to be on my feet for eight hours at a time. At the end of these shifts, my feet would hurt. Because, you know, feet get tired after running around on them for eight straight hours. So, my feet got tired — normal, been-standing-on-you-all-day tired. And my life changed.

Best forty dollars ever spent.

Now, I wear them all the time. I’m someone who likes big fluffy, floppy socks in winter, and bare feet all the rest of the time, but I don’t even notice these socks. They don’t make me sweat, and they feel great. Mostly, though, they make me feel healthy in them.

I don’t know that I’ll ever hit the tennis courts again. Not sure I even still want to. But the discovery of VOXX technology has gone a long way to getting me moving again. If you suffer from balance or pain issues, give VOXX a chance. It might just be the best money you ever spend, too.

For more information on VOXX, visit their website https://voxxlife.com. They’ve been a game changer for me.

My shoulder would tell you, so have essential oils, but that is part two of this story. Stay tuned for that story, coming soon!

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