Caregiver

Haiku by 8 year old, plus Guest on Radio Show

by Sheila Finkelstein on April 27, 2016

Image from “Always Love: Finding the Light in the Darkness – Caregiver Tips”

I felt honored recently to be interviewed by Bert Copple as his guest on the Caregiver Cafe Radio show, Tuesday, April 26. We spoke of using Haiku for stress reduction and much more.

In the Metro Detroit, MI area the show was live-streamed and could be heard on the web in many areas throughout the country. I’ll post the replay link here once it’s available.

During our time together, I was particularly impressed with Bert’s considering throughout this past week about ways Haiku writing [3 lines – 5 – 7 – 5 syllables] could be used by Caregivers in working with their loved ones and/or clients. He reflected: “One might think ‘How am I going to capture emotions and feelings…into just 17 syllables?'”

The “Icing on the Cake” for me was Bert’s story on how he decided to “test” some of his thoughts with his just-turned-eight-years-old son Brady. As he was tucking Brady into bed, the latter declared, “You know, Dad, the bed’s so cold, I can’t fall asleep.”

Bert continued his story stating: “Thinking about what I read on your website, I got the idea to get Brady to refocus. I told him, ‘I have an idea. Let’s write a Haiku about how your bed’s cold.'”
Bert then went on to explain Haiku to his son.

Within 5 minutes of working together, Brady declared:
“Cold bed freezes toes
Heart-racing warming my nose
Tucked in tight. Good night.”

Pretty awesome, especially for an 8-year old, wouldn’t you agree?

I was moved and close to tears, particularly as Bert continued:

“Here’s what I noticed… What I loved about this is that as he was writing, he got to share and express his emotions and his feelings… he felt validated and he got heard…In the process of doing it, the environment around him changed. His bed became warmer. He became more comfortable…

He took a situation that was not good, that he was not happy about in his little 8-year-old body and brain and he was able to all-of-a sudden transform it into a piece of art and use that artful expression to help calm himself down.”

Amongst the elements playing on my emotions were:

1 – How Haiku opened up new experiences with father and son… perhaps an even greater bonding;
2 – The actual demonstration of how things were altered for Brady in his environment;
3 – The using of the experience to transform, as Bert said, negative into a positive;
and
4 – The clear example of how transferable the writing of Haiku could be for easing and providing relief in so many situations.

As the interview continued, Bert asked me how one would get started writing a Haiku poem. I suggested the following. AND I invite you now to think of something that might be bothering you, perhaps a negative “refrain”, so-to-speak, that the voice in your head might sometimes, and/or regularly, nudge you with.

Instructions:
Speak it…
Finger count the syllables…
Pare the words down or add to it for 5 syllables total.
Then create a 2nd line of 7 syllables,
And the 3rd line…5.

Turning the above instructions into Haiku:

Troubling words out loud
Finger count the syllables
Feeling control now.

I now invite you to do one or more pieces of Haiku yourself, and share what you write in the comments below. You can see more on the Haiku for Healing page on this site and you can get my Haiku for Healing PDF by filling in your name and email address on the form in the right sidebar.

A final Thank You to Bert and Brady. You made a difference for me and I’m sure many others now and in the future.

Again, please leave a comment below…Share a Haiku and/or a caregiver or family experience of your own.

{ 2 comments }

Dreams and Visions from September 2005

by Sheila Finkelstein on December 11, 2009

I just came across this on one of my sites and thought it belonged here… one of those teary moments and some of the writing might have been healing then. The reading and remembering is now part of the healing process.

9/14/05 – I have participated in many very powerful programs with Julie Jordan Scott. Currently I am in Julie’s Dream Activation Program, see DREAMS and in a writing program of hers. Part of the 42 days of Dream Activation is sharing one’s dreams and having them witnessed. Today I shared my expression around my dreams.

Sam Finkelstein blows kisses
Sam Finkelstein Blowing Kisses at the Surprise 45th Wedding Anniversary Party given for us by our sons and their families – 8/27/05

DREAMS for Dream Activation Witnessing – September 14, 2005

I came into this Dream Activation program after it started, stating that I do not really have dreams, at least not any that I can put my fingers on/around.

Last night, I read the statement On VISION, in ATTITUDE OF GRATITUDE (p. 14) by Keith Harrell. He speaks of it, stating that “A vision can’t fail if you do the right thing.” He goes on to say, “The most critical first step is understanding your purpose in life and developing a personal vision. A personal vision consists of knowing what you want to do, for whom, and for what purpose.”

I’m thinking that I was equating Dreams with Vision and I have not specifically defined what I want to do for whom and for what purpose.

In order to prepare for my share today, I needed to write about my husband and create a clearing. So two nights ago I wrote and then, in Julie’s Special Writing Program yesterday which I’ve also just joined, the second part of what’s up for me seemed to fall in place.

To lay the foundation, I want to share what I first wrote. Sam, my beloved husband, was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease 8 1/2 years ago and in the past year, communication, getting his thoughts out, has become quite difficult at times and we’ve had some other intermittent challenges. And so I wrote –

DREAMING

I dream of things that can never be, or no longer be. I dream of Sam and I being able to travel, to take the cruises he desires, to walk the beaches with him at my side. I dream of our having extended conversations, many of which we never had.

I dream of being sweet, loving and compassionate with him, not the ranting bitch that emerges from time to time…sometimes frequent times.

I dream of his initiating, generating, and my being able to lean on him, depend on him, though I’d protest it along the way.

I dream of people helping him, engaging him, enlivening him…things that I have no patience for. I dream of letting go of resentment and forgiving myself for not spending more AND quality time with him.

I notice I keep saying “him.” My mother used to hate when I, or anyone, referred to her as “her.” “Him” is Sam, my beloved, who has put up with so much with me, always putting me first before himself, or anyone else.

Though he often protested, at least initially, on things I started, new and innovative, he ultimately was always there for me, supporting me. And with it all, bottom line, in whatever way, I am always there for him.

If I’d see myself through Sam’s eyes I’d be quite accomplished, tackling huge projects, as yet unknown and undefined.

Right now I dream of peace and ease, of having it all – luxury unlimited, money and resources, all without having to put out much effort.

I dream of communities of people interacting purposefully and with love.

I dream of people making discoveries and being excited by what they do.

I dream of having, being in a close knit community, with friends who energize and excite me and themselves.

I dream of books not yet written, 2 at least, though I know not what they are.

I dream of being famous, for what I do not know.

I dream of connections – people being connected for whatever they need.

I dream of a clutter-free environment, of a staff to tend to all of our needs – cooking, cleaning, organizing.

At one point I dreamed of watching sunrise over the ocean, while lying in bed, opening the drapes with a remote control. That dream also had woods and streams in the back of the house where we could see sunset and workshops for an artists’, actually corporate workers’, retreat. The latter is no longer part of my dream. Is it resignation or simply that I’ve moved in different directions?

And so my writing concluded the other night and I thought I’d search through my writings in my Picture to Ponder almost-daily ezine (now weekly) to find the points I seem to emphasize and thus get a handle on where I’m standing.

Then I experienced more free flow writing, with Julie yesterday.

The final prompt for the session was THE GIFT I GIVE TO MY READERS IS. . .and I wrote,

“The gift I give my readers is the opportunity for them to discover the richness in their worlds, the beauty of what’s in their physical spaces, the visions they have, perhaps as-yet unknown, in their souls…

the words, the tools, the ways of interconnecting to their selves and to each other, the people in their lives whom they’ve met and not yet met.

The gift I give to my readers is the beauty of knowing and believing in themselves.

And, I’m reminded that in “mission statements” for jobs in varying fields was always some form of supporting/empowering people in believing and themselves.

It’s who I be in my actions. Is it a Vision? A dream? I don’t know.”

Note for those new to this blog – My beloved Sam passed away on 11/21/07, see REMEMBERING SAM, and as I put this together on 1/7/09 I am struggling with what new dreams I can create. The dreams listed after those I had of life with Sam certainly can act as inspiration for me, they are and came from someplace within as did THE GIFT I GIVE MY READERS as spelled out above.

{ 3 comments }

Finding Direction Using Writing and Photography – NaBloPoMo Day 15

by Sheila Finkelstein on August 2, 2009

Two weeks ago, I decided to sign up for NaBloPoMo, National Blog Posting Month (can start any time) and made an agreement, mainly with myself, to do a blog post daily for 30 days. I decided to do this as a way of creating a structure and some self-discipline for myself.

Right now, I have two somewhat active blogs. Since I had not been posting much on Writing for Healing, I thought this challenge would be way to build it. The challenge I’m finding is that I do not have a set intention, other than to post. When I set up the blog, I thought it would be a good idea to reach, particularly caregivers, actually anyone who is mourning a loss. Mourning a loss does not necessarily mean there has to be a physical “death”, though I guess there is some form of “dying” off of something that had been a certain way, “lived” a certain way.

I would often say to my husband, as we lay in bed at night, “I miss you.” In retrospect this, I’m sure, was not the kindest thing to say to him, since I’m sure he missed himself, his “normalcy” and what we were able to do in the past. There wasn’t anything he, or I, could do about it. At those times I was, particularly, missing his ability to communicate freely and to easily roll over in bed and hold me in the way he had for 40 plus years.

As I’ve mentioned in earlier posts, the biggest toll Parkinson’s Disease took on Sam was his ability to vocalize the words that were right there in his head. Also though he fortunately was able to walk easily, he did have some rigidity in freedom of motion in other positions.

My wandering here today is an example of writing without a specific intention… or perhaps many. Back to my original underlying purpose of this blog, supporting others in finding their healing processes through writing. When I think of that, I’m left with the questions, “Should I be telling? Teaching? Simply sharing writing?” I started to take the “easy” way and share writings I had already done.

Today, I had the thought, “Why am I focussing here, when the thing I most love is taking photographs?” Thus I’m taking on posting a photo daily on Photography and Transformation.com. Today’s post is a Weathered Wall, which might well inspire writing and perhaps healing writing, I thus invite you to visit a Weathered Wall – Photography for Meditation.

You might experience the riches of nature in addition to mourning the passing of what might have been before.

{ 0 comments }

Writing Letters to the Editor – Controlling Anger, Healing – NaBloPoMo – Day 6

by Sheila Finkelstein on July 24, 2009

In previous posts here I’ve written about Haiku writing as a means of gaining control when angry and I’ve written about Morning Pages and free flow writing from prompts. There is also “letter writing”. Often simply the act of writing a letter expressing feelings, then tearing them up, never sending them is more than sufficient for healing.

This morning I was reminded that “Letters to the Editor” of our newspapers is also another access to freely expressing ourselves, powerfully so, when there is a point rather than the act of simply “venting.”

Writing to my local newspaper was something I did quite frequently many years ago when I was involved in my community both in library organization and then when I was teaching art in the public schools in my town. Mostly they were to inform.

The particular letter I thought of today that’s the seed for this post was one I wrote during an election campaign for our local Board of Education, particularly volatile with one candidate who was president of the Board, or became president. I probably still have the letter, written more than 40 years ago.

One of the main phrases that I recall was my statement that “[he – the candidate] was doing nothing but throwing empty phrases to brew a burning cauldron of hostilities.”

During that same time period, I went back to college to get my degree in Fine Arts Education. Painting and Drawing was the first Art course I took. My professor, recently retired, had mostly criticism for whatever I produced. Toward the end of the semester she told me my “work lacked emotion” and I “should drop out of school and join a local guild to satisfy my housewifely ambitions!”

Anger flared and I immediately thought of the above-mentioned letter to the editor. “That was certainly FULL of emotion!” I went home grabbed a masonite board, a newspaper, paints, glue and match sticks and put together an assemblage – painting the fire and the cauldron, filling it with “hate” and other “anger” and “war” words cut from the newspaper, adding the matches to reinforce the fire.

Burning Cauldron of Hostilities

I proceeded to bring it into the next class. I don’t recall what her response to it was. What I did realize years later was that, in fact, this piece did not convey the emotion of the feelings. What I had done was illustrate the seething emotions that had been behind the expressive words in the “letter to the editor”. Also, I still find it interesting that although I am known as a visual artist when it comes to expressing emotions I immediately go to words and writing. (The emotions expressed in my art, mainly my photography, come from a whole different, unidentified, subconscious level. )

Words in the Burning Cauldron of Hostilities

A close-up of the words, headlined in my newspapers in the late 60’s, used in the collage. I find it interesting observing now that the only word I cut up was “hate”, used three times.

In conclusion, several forms of self-expression were covered here. What is and are yours? If anything has opened up for you from my experiences described here, I’d love to read them in the comments here. Thank you.

(Note for those who may be curious about what happened insofar as “dropping out of school”: I did take the next semester off and then went back. I did not think one had to be a good or great artist to be an effective art teacher. Having stopped attending school board meetings, where I might be likely to speak out and ruffle feathers, I did get a job teaching art in the elementary school in my district where I taught for six years.

Thirty years later, an email from a former student attests to my having made the right decision! There were also many letters to the editor and School Board from parents and teachers when my teaching position was eliminated due to decline in enrollment.)

{ 1 comment }

Music for Openings Sparks Writing – NaBloPoMo Day 4

by Sheila Finkelstein on July 22, 2009

Earlier this week, I was on an empowering teleclass, “Catch the Breeze – Radical Weight Loss from the Inside out” led by Marcia Breitenbach, The Songletter Lady and Transformation Specialist. The call was about “energy” and “releasing” and during it she spoke of music as access to unlocking areas of our brain, opening up energy blocks . She spoke of how music is being used with people afflicted with Parkinson’s Disease and others with Alzheimers.

I immediately started feeling sad and teary. Then I got absorbed in other segments of the call and was able to let those feelings go. The next day I was once again filled with guilt, sadness and remorse, for I had been aware of the impact of music and in the day-to-day living, where music was not an integral part Sam’s and my life, I had forgotten about it.

What made it “worse” as I remembered, was that a friend had composed an upbeat song which she sang as she played her ukulele. She gave us a copy of her rough recording. We both enjoyed it, especially Sam, and then as time went on I forgot about it and the power of the music. Because of the effects of Parkinson’s Disease, Sam was not likely to remember, himself, to generate such conversations and reminders.

Once again, I am faced with “There are no do-overs”. As I write the “story” of it, I am able to do more releasing. At the same time I am healing and reminding myself of the “good” things I did as a caregiver, the walks we had, the things we enjoyed. I can also remind myself that sharing like this can empower others and I know that Sam, also, would have appreciated that. People mattered greatly to him also.

During the same teleclass, Marcia suggested we take on being with our challenges as “allies”, rather than enemies. Thus, “Sadness is my ally.” “Grief is my ally.” “Tears are my ally.” They are some of the components of my life, my “friends” who encourage me to write and put myself out to share and make a difference with others.

To learn more about Marcia’s work, I invite you to visit her site, The Magnificent You. You can get the words for and listen to the Magnificent You song at Songletter. This page also includes explanations on “Music Creating New Software in the Brain” and more.

Note: For those interested in doing more exploration in writing for yourself, my friend and mentor Julie Jordan Scott is Introducing the Summer Writing Intensive Creativity Camp (at Home or wherever you happen to be) See Summer Writing Camp for details.

{ 3 comments }

Last Memories

by Sheila Finkelstein on April 25, 2009

I walked back into his hospital room after a satisfying lunch. He was sitting straight in a big armchair, body slightly propped with a pillow. A table cart was in front of him. As I walked toward him a bright smile appeared and lit his face.

I sat across from him, told him about my outing and asked about his. He probably struggled with some words. I don’t remember. What I do remember is playing with the ball, the spongey one with hundreds of inch long extensions encompassing it all.

ball-green-350-img_7612

We rolled it back and forth
Tossed it too and
Played a little catch.

Some exercise for him.
Calming for me.

Relaxation and contentment,
Precious moments, so few remained
Though we knew that not.

I think I crawled into his bed for a bit, while he was able to sit in the chair. I was exhausted and craved a bit of rest. We changed places a short time later and that was the last time he was in a chair.

Eleven days later I crawled back into his bed. This time he was in it also. I curved my body against his back and buttocks. Under the sheet, arms hugging and hands caressing. Only moments remained. A couple deep, harsh and gasping breaths. Then he was gone.

And, now, fifteen months later, I play alone with a spongy yellow ball, one of the several we sporadically used, at home. The blue one used in the hospital is someplace amidst my bags, I think. We had a magenta one too, my favorite.

Flattened Yellow spongey ball

I sit here and pull, stretching, the individual pieces. They bounce back like a rubber band. There is a loop and sometimes we put that on our fingers and gently bounced the ball, an inch or two away from us.

Reminded me of a yo-yo. Only the yo-yo goes almost to the floor and rolls up again, when done with skill, back into the waiting hand. This one doesn’t go far. It fills the whole hand as it returns. Solidly soft it is.

The hollow inside has lost some air, I’d say. No longer in use now, a portion of it flattens out. Though I can pull it out to a full sphere, it’s only temporary. It quickly goes back to flat, supporting a now three-quarter sphere when put to rest on the table.

Flattened blue spongey ball

A symbol of my life it is. Flatness, circular, a multitude of stretchy pieces, possibilities of playfulness. Open to manipulation, it resumes its shape when left alone.

Resilient always. He’s gone. I’m here.

(Note: My beloved husband, Sam Finkelstein, died on November 21, 2007. We were married for 47+ years. He had Parkinson’s Disease for 11 years and out of nowhere contracted a bacterial infection in his blood which ended up playing all kinds of havoc with is body. For more on this wonderful man and for links to his extraordinary black and white photography, see REMEMBERING SAM.)

{ 8 comments }