Strategies for endurance
by tamarjacobson
Quote of the day:
I love the dark hours of my being. / My mind deepens into them. / There I can find, as in old letters, / the days of my life, already lived, / and held like a legend, and understood. Rilke
On the drive home from work last night I heard Phillip Roth talking to Terry Gross. I was particularly struck by their discussion about developing strategies for endurance as we grow older. While I have not reached the honorable age of the character in his latest novel, I too am resigning myself to losing the younger me and finding ways to accept the challenging changes as they unfold.
I laughed at myself this morning as I reflected on my doctor’s follow-up visit yesterday. Feeling emotionally contained and stoic as I jumped up onto his examining table I found myself blurting out uncontrollably, "Please don’t be alarmed by the condition of my toes. My feet were rather battered up this summer from a one hundred mile hike I completed in England." Needless to say, the doctor was not even entertaining the notion of examining my feet. He was an ob/gyn. Once those words had escaped my lips and were hanging out there, I continued, puzzled by my own outburst, "How strange. One never really knows where the shame will creep in … does one?" My voice trailed off and he smiled kindly saying something about he would never have noticed my toes in the first place. The day had proceeded with meetings and classes well into the night and concluded as I drove home exhausted and fell into bed.
This morning, I took my coffee out to the patio and reflected on my visit with the doctor. Blocking the anxiety of follow-up diagnosis and news I had focused my attention on my one or two bruised toe-nails instead of the matter at hand.
I suppose shame and fear accompany one another closely at times.

Hello Chancy,
How lovely to see you here again. Thanks for stopping by. Yeah – I was pretty stressed out all right. Only, I *thought* I had *it* all together – anxiety under control! Being brave is so tricky, isn’t it?
“I found myself blurting out uncontrollably, “Please don’t be alarmed by the condition of my toes. My feet were rather battered up this summer from a one hundred mile hike I completed in England.” Needless to say, the doctor was not even entertaining the notion of examining my feet. He was an ob/gyn.”
I know the feeling. Going to the doctor is always stressful for me. even going for something minor. I suppose it is because to me doctors are the ultimate authority figure. I often find myself saying something that just pops into my mind also. It is the stress.
Yes, Kay. I think I like the woman who has taken place of my “girl” so much more. I am happier with her too – simply enjoy being with her a whole lot more!
The girl I was is gone but I like the woman who has taken her place
. . . most of the time!
Mary,
That oak of which you speak stands huge and tall right in front of my living room window. It seems to stabilize my inner core every time I stand still in front of it – just gazing. Thank you for your beautiful comment. My slip of a girl is slipping further and further away …
Dear Winston and Tamar,
I was tickled by the idea that I had anything consciously to do with blurting out the comment about my toes. It came from nowhere! I was blind-sided by myself! Only afterwards did I laugh at myself thinking the fear peeked out through my toes!
Shafee,
Thanks for your comment! Welcome to my blog.
Jean,
Indeed, I like my doctor even though he is relatively new and there might have been something in that too – trying to please him in some way …
I can imagine focusing on such a detail out of anxiety about having the right rapport with the doctor, making a good impression, commanding his respect… these things matter a lot when someone has such power over your body and your peace of mind.
As a Dr i can appreciate the situation you found yourself in.
I am with Tamar on this. Regardless of how you really felt about your toes, choosing to bring it up at that particular time, was most likely a smoke screen. You were simply masquerading to avoid facing the fear you felt from what ever was about to happen.
I am almost always (perhaps intentionally) talk nonsense to distract myself and others from what is foremost on my mind. You did well on your long day.
Meridel LeSeuer spoke of “the green slip of a girl” inside each of us, that “younger me” that wants to fight with what LeSeuer called “the great oak” we all become. I know the struggle against the loud girl; I prefer the oak that can stand up in the storms as if invited to play. -mg