My Life as a Puddle

Creating hyperhidrosis hope and awareness one drop at a time

Tag: traveling with hyperhidrosis

Best Yoga Products
for Hyperhidrosis

This post is dedicated to Meagan, one of my readers. Sweet girl, you are not alone in your sweaty life.

Are you one of those people who think you can’t do certain types of physical activity/exercise because there aren’t products that are sweat friendly to help you cope with your hyperhidrosis? Think again! Let’s talk about yoga.

Best Yoga Mat for Sweaty Hands and Feet

I spent hours searching online for the best yoga mat that would prevent me from slipping and sliding all over the place. Here’s the one I bought:

Gaiam Sol Soft Grip Yoga Mat

Gaiam Sol Soft Grip Yoga Mat

I’ve used this mat while doing yoga in the rainforest where it’s extra humid. Okay, that makes me sound like a jet-setter. I did yoga at a butterfly pavilion, which is kinda the same thing. This mat gave me good traction so I could actually focus on the yoga and not my sweating.

Best Yoga Towel for Sweat

For days when I’m having a really hard time controlling my sweating, I like to use a yoga towel on top of my mat. This one also works as a travel mat and folds up nice and neat so you can throw it in a suitcase. The microfiber provides extra grip and absorbs the sweat really well so you can practice your asanas with confidence. It’s also machine washable so you can get the nasty off.

Gaiam No-Slip Yoga Towel

Gaiam No-Slip Yoga Towel

Hand and Foot Covers for Sweat

For extra sweat protection, you can try these grippy gloves and socks. I personally feel like I do better when my feet are bare and exposed to the air, but you can start out with socks if they help you to feel more confident (like when you’re in mountain pose with your feet firmly planted). They come in cute Mary Jane styles (both open-toe and full-toe) and also more manly versions for the sweaty guys out there – hey, dudes!

ToeSox Grippy Half-Toe Bella Socks

ToeSox Grippy Half-Toe Bella Socks

Gaiam No-Slip Yoga Socks

Gaiam No-Slip Yoga Socks

These grippy gloves are perfect for poses like downward dog when your hands are supporting a lot of your weight and are more likely to slip and slide.

Gaiam-Grippy-Yoga-Gloves

Gaiam Grippy Yoga Gloves

More good news: in addition to the Gaiam website, you can now find select Gaiam yoga items in Kohl’s department stores.

Yoga on Gaiam TV

Still not ready to venture outside of your sweat box and expand your horizons by taking a yoga class in a studio or gym? That’s okay. You can do yoga any time, anywhere with My Yoga on Gaiam TV. A subscription to this online streaming service is only 99 cents for the first month, and then $9.95 month thereafter. I’ve done many of these yoga videos in my living room when no one else is around. There’s a great beginner series on their website, too, if you’re just starting out with yoga. And, it’s not just yoga that you can watch. They have a ton of inspirational films, documentaries, and original shows that you can’t find anywhere else. It’s like Netflix, only way cooler. Plus, they have free content like articles and yoga poses.

The other neat thing about Gaiam TV is that you can download your favorite content to your device and then take it with you. This is great for yoga because as you get comfortable doing it in your living room first, you can then experiment with it in the park, your hotel when you’re traveling, indoors in a high school gym, etc. This is perfect for those with hyperhidrosis since we like to test and adapt to our environments. The more control we have over our surroundings, the better we can manage our sweating, right?

Yoga to Retrain Your Nervous System

Yoga actually restores and resets your nervous system. It calms you down. So when our sympathetic nervous system is constantly in overdrive and behaving in the fight-or-flight mode, we sweat, and way more than others because our eccrine glands are constantly in the “on” mode. The sympathetic nervous system acts like a thermostat, and it’s hard to turn it down in those with hyperhidrosis.

This is where the parasympathetic nervous system comes into play. This is the system we want to tap into to produce calm in our bodies. When we open the energy channel of the parasympathetic nervous system, we can tune into ourselves and stop worrying about our excessive sweating problem because we’re becoming one with the moment. Sounds lofty, I know, but I have done yoga classes where I am completely dry by the time I arrive at shavasana (corpse pose). I’ve left the class wanting to cry tears of joy for experiencing an activity dry like “normal” people do all the time.

So, stop making those BS excuses as to why you think you can’t try yoga and be sweaty at the same time. If you’re extra worried, do a hot yoga class where everyone is sweating right alongside you and you can better blend in. After all, you’ve got the products now to help you.

(Note: I was not paid for this post nor did I receive any products for free. I simply took the time to find what I needed to make my life as a puddle a bit easier. It’s all about asking – and looking – for what you need in order to live a drier life.)

Read More About Yoga and Hyperhidrosis

Hyperhidrosis & Yoga

Hyperhidrosis & Yoga (Round 2)

Hyperhidrosis and Oprah

Last month, I flew to Houston to attend Oprah’s The Life You Want Weekend. It was amazing. While I didn’t get to be up close and personal with Oprah herself, I still saw her from the big screen as she spoke to the audience about creating a bigger and better life for yourself. Oprah gave the keynote address on Friday evening, and then on Saturday she was joined onstage by Deepak Chopra, Iyanla Vanzant, Elizabeth Gilbert, and Rob Bell.

Before the big event that first night, I went to O Town, a pop-up town square with interactive booths. I’m glad I went as soon as it opened, because the entire thing was outside. In Houston. With humidity. Not cool for someone who has a sweating condition.

 

Entering O Town at Oprah's The Life You Want Weekend

Entering O Town at Oprah’s The Life You Want Weekend

 

One of the stops in O Town was the Toyota booth. Here, you could decorate a journal using scrapbook paper and tons of accessories. The line was pretty long by the time I joined, so I had to stand in the sun for a long time before the line moved inside the tent. Once I got out of the sun, I realized there wasn’t any air flow inside the tent. Uh oh.

The journal decorating area consisted of leather couches and stools and was in the back corner of the tent, even farther away from any of the air that had managed to creep inside the periphery. I quickly realized that I wasn’t going to be able to decorate my journal. Sitting down on the leather furniture when I was already sticky from the heat combined with sharing scissors, glue, and everything else with a bunch of other people was no bueno for my puddle life. So, I stood in line long enough to grab my journal and a few pieces of decorative paper, and then I hightailed it out of that stagnant, muggy tent, deciding I’d finish my journal when I got home and could control my environment.

The journal I was supposed to decorate but couldn't because of my sweaty hands.

The journal I was supposed to decorate but couldn’t because of my sweaty hands.

 

After the failed journal line, I made my way over to the Oil of Olay booth, where I got a mini makeover by a makeup artist. Oprah’s camera crew was there and filmed me while I was in the makeup chair. 🙂

Getting a makeover while Oprah's film crew put the camera on me.

Getting a makeover while Oprah’s film crew put the camera on me.

 

Once I made the rounds at each booth, I could tell I was getting dehydrated from the sun and all the sweating I was trying so desperately NOT to do. At least I had the foresight to snag a washcloth from the hotel room on my way out the door. I stuffed it in my purse and used it discreetly every now and then to wipe off my hands. I also grabbed a flyer from the IKEA booth, which I used to fan myself and block the sun when I was in line. It was time to say peace out to Oprah and escape to an air-conditioned restaurant for some lunch.

That night in the arena, I was fine sweat-wise and could take notes without any problems. I, of course, brought my sweat-friendly notebook and favorite pen to minimize any sweat marks and paper curling (read more about paper and pens for hyperhidrosis). I also got a fabulous handout from Oprah that I used as part of creating a new vision statement for my life. It’s important to check in with yourself on a regular basis and analyze whether your life is going in the direction you desire (like when this crazy thing happened to me). If it’s not, it’s time to re-frame your life and choose different thoughts. Your thoughts create your life.

As I went through the exercises with my favorite life teacher, Oprah, I could see where I was headed with my new vision statement (read more about stepping outside of your hyperhidrosis). While I won’t share it all here, I will tell you that it includes no longer talking to myself in the self-deprecating voice that is reserved for me; I can be my own worst enemy. How many of you have a sweaty inner monologue like I do? It goes something like this:

You’re disgusting. Look at the sweaty mess you are. You’d better apologize as soon as someone notices your sweat. You can’t do this, this, or this because of your stupid hyperhidrosis. Why did this happen to me? I’m not good enough. I wish I could be like everyone else and live in a dry world.

Sound familiar? Why do we do this to ourselves? Compare our sweaty lives to the lives of others? Act like we’re less than, freakish, an embarrassment? You, and I, are exactly enough just as we are. So sit with yourself awhile – sweaty hands, feet, armpits, groin, or wherever it is that you sweat – and love yourself through it.

Accept and allow who and how you are to come forth. Yes, we want a cure for our excessive sweating and yes, we’ll never give up hope and will keep trying treatments for hyperhidrosis. But in the meantime, stop the self-hatred. Hold your head high. You are enough, and you are loved despite the sweating that might make you think you’re less than. You’re safe here. So own it.

Here is part of my vision statement. I hope it might help you in some way.

I choose to live as my authentic self, no longer apologizing or comparing who I am to others or betraying the nudges of my own heart. ‪#‎TheLifeIWant‬

The workbook from Oprah in which I created a new vision statement for my life.

The workbook from Oprah in which I created a new vision statement for my life.

Start to walk through life palms out, hands up.

IMG_1629

One Year Later

A lot can happen in a year. It’s been one year ago today since my dear sister-mother-friend Sandy left what spiritual writer Gary Zukav calls The Earth School. She left us too soon. Perhaps, though, her soul completed its earthly mission and it was time for bigger and better things. I know that she is breathing the cleanest, purest air now, tilting her head back and emitting that laugh I loved so much.

Sandy Bristoll

Sandy gave me the gift of laughter.

In September, I traveled to Martha’s Vineyard where I delivered Sandy’s eulogy for the final time at the Edgartown Lighthouse.

Edgartown Lighthouse, Martha's Vineyard, MA

Edgartown Lighthouse, Martha’s Vineyard, MA

It was more real this time. This was my final goodbye. It was a whirlwind trip. I was on the island for just under 48 hours. I did my best to soak it all in – breathe in the island air, feel the cool breeze tickle my neck, walk on the same sand she did, peruse the stores in which Sandy herself had set foot.

I bought a ton of souvenirs, evidence that I had been to Martha’s Vineyard. Would it make it more real? I didn’t know. Grasping at “stuff” was a small comfort at the time. I remember after the service was over Danny and I were in a quaint island shop. I could barely take the phone from his hands into mine to talk to one of our family friends across the miles. We all know what happens when you hold someone else’s phone up to your ear – it usually makes our hands sweat. I didn’t talk too long; holding it together in a public place after everything was over was hard. So as I talked on the phone I ended up caressing every single fabric placemat and kitchen towel I could find in that store.

The service that day at the foot of the lighthouse was perfect. I stood barefoot in the sand, a cool breeze blowing in off the water. It lifted my hair up and away from my face, a relief that I didn’t have to tuck the strands behind my ears to avoid my watery eyes. At one point during the eulogy, the waves lapping against the shore got very loud. I’m sure that it was Sandy letting us know she was there.

The altar we made for Sandy on the beach.

The altar we made for Sandy on the beach.

Danny and I scattered her ashes into the water near the island she called home.

Danny and I minutes before the island service for Sandy.

Danny and I minutes before the island service for Sandy.

This time when I delivered the eulogy, I was a lot more nervous, but I’m not sure why. A handful of her friends were there, as opposed to a church full of people. It was more intimate. I met people who knew her before I was even born, people who told me stories of what she was like as a young woman. One of them even said I reminded her of Sandy. I hold this compliment close to my heart.

We played the same three songs again: Lover of the Light by Mumford & Sons, Gone Gone Gone by Phillip Phillips, and Shower the People by James Taylor. As James Taylor played, Danny and I entered the water with Sandy’s ashes. He tipped the bag over, and together we released her into the water she craved and always wanted to go back to. Now, she was finally home, at peace as she was lulled out to sea by the waves that returned to their gentle rhythm. The waves knew. They knew to embrace the ashes and not put them back on shore.

Laying Sandy to rest

Laying Sandy to rest

One of Sandy’s friends was kind enough to bring flowers, white daisies and red roses. I never even thought to bring flowers with me; I’m so glad she did. Danny and I led the way, throwing several of them on top of the water. Everyone there soon followed, a sea of red and white floating peacefully, the roses strong yet soft, the daisies pure and light.

Flowers Flower-Processional

Danny and I stood there knee deep in the water, not caring how wet our clothes got. It was then that I finally allowed myself to release all the tears I had been holding. A few had escaped when I was in the sand, reading aloud all the lessons Sandy had taught me, but in the water my tears could mix with the sea. I was a drop of the ocean and so was Sandy.

The final goodbye, absolutely the hardest day of my life.

The final goodbye, absolutely the hardest day of my life.

I don’t really know what I’m even trying to say with this post today. I just know that I needed to write.

Watching the last sunset I'll see for a while on Martha's Vineyard.

Watching the last sunset I’ll see for a while on Martha’s Vineyard.

If you or someone you love is thinking about or is ready to quit smoking, please call 1.800.QUIT NOW. Free support, free patches. Your life is worth it, and you don’t have to do it alone.


Copyright © 2011-2014 My Life as a Puddle

 

An Oregonian Thanksgiving

I took a trip to Oregon for Thanksgiving. (Yeah, I know I’m a tad behind on blogging about this.) My mother-in-law and her boyfriend recently moved there, and this was our first visit. We flew into Portland and then drove a few hours to her new place. I was able to cross off one thing on my bucket list: Powell’s Bookstore. It’s an entire square block of awesome. I was soooooo excited to go there, so I mandated that it would be our first stop after landing at PDX.

 

It was raining when we got to Portland. Shocking, I know. It was humid, but I didn’t notice it too much initially. I was more concerned with navigating ourselves to the books. We parked in downtown Portland and hoofed it over to the bookstore by way of Whole Foods. That’s another store in which I could spend hours looking around. When I opened the front doors to Powell’s, the angels started singing and white light surrounded me. Then, as a Highly Sensitive Person who also has hyperhidrosis, my hands started to sweat from the excitement of my surroundings, which I feel on a deeper level than most people since my nervous system is so finely tuned.

 

I spent a good hour or so looking at everything Powell’s had to offer. I planned to spend some money there that day, so as my pile of purchases began to accumulate in my arms, I had to do the strategic holding and placement of my hands I’ve talked about before so as not get everything all sweaty. Once I was ready to pay for everything, I worked my way over to the registers. I watched the line very carefully and waited until there was only one person in front of me before I got in line. I hate standing in lines! My sweat factor increases in lines.

 

After Powell’s we grabbed some breakfast and began the drive to the Oregon coast. My mother-in-law lives just a few minutes from the beach, so we went there first to watch the sunset. It was so pretty! Oregon air, especially on the coast, is so different in November. It was a bone chilling cold, and I could not get warm for the first couple of days we were there, which was weird but also entirely fabulous because I was not sweating. Yay! I was so cold that I had on a long-sleeved shirt, a sweatshirt, and a scarf during our Thanksgiving dinner. Absolutely unheard of for me, especially at the dinner table since I tend to sweat more around other people when we have to pass plates of food around and deal with silverware and cutting meat, etc.

 

Here are some photos from my trip. The beach shots are from the camera on my iPhone. I am so impressed with those shots!

 

Oregon Forest

These trees in Oregon look like they’re from a Dr. Seuss book.

mossy wall

I love moss.

pinecone

The Oregon coast is very versatile in its landscape.

leaf in the sand

These ripples on the beach remind me of myself, and this leaf was still alive and green. We, too, can grow despite our hyperhidrosis.

birds on the Oregon coast

oregon coast beach

I spent my Thanksgiving with The Goonies.

Oregon coast sunset

 

Before we left Portland, we stopped at a local brewery for some dinner. Upon arriving at the airport and dropping off the rental car, I began worrying about going through the security checkpoint. I hate traveling with hyperhidrosis. Surprisingly, though, I did not sweat through security on our way home. Perhaps that had something to do with the two beers I had at dinner. Who knows. But it was blissful, I can tell you that. I had such a good time exploring the airport before our flight left. They have a Powell’s Bookstore at the PDX airport, too!

Powell's Books at PDX airport

Powell’s Books at PDX airport


Copyright © 2013 My Life as a Puddle

Hyperhidrosis & Yoga – Round 2

Rippling WaterSince I had such a relaxing time at my first yoga experience, I decided to return the next weekend and do it again. Things were going along swimmingly during the warm-up section, until the instructor asked us to extend our arms out to our sides and join hands with the people next to us. Eff. Thankfully, I was on the end of a row, so I only had to touch the person to my left. We didn’t actually join hands, which was better for me, but I still hated that my drippy hand was in the vicinity of her hand. I made sure my hand was on the bottom, my palm facing the grass that I wished I could disappear underneath. Her palm was face down as well, on top of my hand. The touching lasted about 20 seconds, maybe? I wasn’t counting, but it felt like an absolute eternity.

 

As soon as I heard the instructions to bow and say namaste (which means the Divine in me recognizes the Divine in you), I thought that would be it and then we’d move into some poses on our yoga mats. But no, we had to join hands. Remember when I talked about the anger I felt the last time I was instructed to join hands in a public place? Yeah, that beast completely returned full force for a few minutes until I tried to pocket it and take it home for later. It wasn’t the instructor’s fault. It was part of her yoga lesson plan. I get it. I am responsible for the anger, yes, and I don’t necessarily think that anger is a bad thing. Anger is an emotion just like sadness and happiness are. It deserves to be dealt with, too. I was angry that I couldn’t comfortably participate in a “normal” person’s activity without my stupid body acting up. I mean, seriously! Here I was, living on the edge and tipping my comfort zone on its side, trying to see just how far I could go and not allow my hyperhidrosis to hold me back. And then a trigger situation is thrown at me full force and messes it up.

 

I understand and truly believe that we are all connected and that we are more alike than unalike. The intention of joining hands with other yogis was to embrace and encompass the energy of all of us in the same location. But what happens when someone’s energy changes because they are not able to be in balance with their body? When they can’t control or even help that their body sweats? I’ll tell you what happens. The fact that you are doing yoga ceases to exist. What takes its place is the vicious inner monologue. The one that says, Oh, my God. Why did they have to tell us to join hands? I can’t do this. It’s making me uncomfortable! I hate my body. What is she thinking as she’s touching my hand? Great. Now I’ll never be able to cool back down and focus on the yoga. How dare they make us do this? Is my yoga experience really going to be any better because of this? I mean, REALLY! Can’t we just stay in our own space and move together without touching?

 

I ended up emailing the yoga studio that puts on this free event. I explained my hyperhidrosis and then said (even though I knew it might be too much to ask) if they might be able to avoid future touching poses in their classes. The owner of the yoga studio actually emailed me back! Here is what she said:

The process of yoga is coming back to our innate wholeness, understanding that we are not separate and that as a community we are one. The fact that you mention this to me is a wonderful sign that you are practicing the first principal of yoga and wellness, awareness.

It is only through awareness that we can begin to heal ourselves.  When we have an imbalance of any nature in our physical body, it usually stems first from the mind body.  Making such a request as you have, indicates that you are allowing the mind body to lead your physical body into a repetitive cycle of non-healing.
 
I would recommend that you see me at the park Wednesday (this week) if you come.  Arrive a few minutes early and I will show you a cooling pranayama that will help put your mind to ease and mitigate the sweat.  
 
Our practice is a community practice and it will at times include touching, greeting, partners (as is the case in the July 4 class). You might want to consider coming in to a private therapy practice with me, to work through some of these issues and while at the park, respect what is right for you as you continue on your journey. 

 

I agree with everything she says. I am on a quest to become more of myself, to live a better life. This is why I’ve been experimenting with all of these sweat-friendly products and techniques, acupuncture, yoga, and hopefully soon, meditation. If I could learn to get out of my head whenever I want to and focus on something else, perhaps I can escape my hyperhidrosis. This is very hard for one who ruminates on absolutely everything in her life. I have not been back to the yoga class as of right now. It’s just too overwhelming having to worry about my sweating in advance. The thought of going to a class and then having to either put my yoga mat far away from others so they can’t reach me to touch me, or having to stop and say, Sorry, I’m not comfortable touching you, or Sorry, I have a medical condition called hyperhidrosis, blah blah blah…sounds even worse. I don’t want to call attention to myself and look like a freak. Gag me.

 

I will be looking into some private lessons with her, though. I need to learn this cooling pranayama she is talking about. If I can do it in private with her, bring along my trusty fan, and not worry about others around me or having to touch them, then I can keep moving forward in my yoga practice. This anger that I’m feeling? I’d like to harness it for my inner badass. I’m tired of being held back because of my hyperhidrosis. This past year and having this blog has taught me that it’s not just about me anymore. It’s about every single one of you who have hyperhidrosis. It’s about every single one of us stepping out of our puddles in whatever way we can and learning to live, not just exist, in spite of our condition. Who’s with me?

Empty your mind, be formless, shapeless — like water.
Now you put water in a cup, it becomes the cup;
You put water into a bottle it becomes the bottle;
You put it in a teapot it becomes the teapot.
Now water can flow or it can crash.
Be water, my friend. ― Bruce Lee

Water is the source of life. I’m on a quest to learn how I can use what I’ve been given in a way that doesn’t hinder me.


Copyright © 2012 My Life as a Puddle

Hyperhidrosis and Traveling

I was super excited to fly in and surprise my grandma. But the one thing I never look forward to is going to the airport. I don’t mind flying, but I hate having to deal with the logistics of my sweaty hands and feet in the airport. Take the suitcase issue: I hate holding the handle as I roll it around. It gets wet and then dries with this weird coating from my sweat. I usually try to only hold it when absolutely necessary, otherwise I will maneuver it around with the inside of my wrist and lower arm. While one hand is busy with my suitcase, the other hand is holding my ID and boarding pass. These have to be placed in my hand just right so that the ink from the boarding pass doesn’t smear. I have my ID on the bottom and the boarding pass underneath just my thumb. I probably look suspicious to security since I’m so uncomfortable in my skin by that point.

Once they check my ID, next comes the mad rush to take off my shoes, remove all liquids from my bag, and get everything on the conveyor belt. I can never wear sandals or flip flops to the airport. One, I’m not a fan of placing my bare feet on a germ-infested floor where everyone else’s feet have been. Two, who am I to put my bare, dripping feet all over the tile floor so I can leave footprints behind for all to see? Sick. So, I always wear tennis shoes with socks, or some kind of slip-on shoes with socks. I still leave footprints through my socks, but at least it’s a lesser evil. Once I make it through security, it’s on to the tram to get to the gates. I don’t like sitting down on the tram. I feel cooler if I’m able to stand, but at the same time, I have to hold on somehow since the tram moves pretty fast. I try to position myself around a pole so that I can lean into it rather than hold on to it. Also, I always wear jeans to the airport, never shorts. I need the fabric to cover the backs of my legs, especially if the seats on the plane are leather. Plus, jeans have more fabric than shorts, the better to wipe my hands on. I’d like to try and wear one of the longer skirts I’ve talked about before, but that would look dumb with a pair of tennis shoes and socks, so I’ll have to work on the shoes for that outfit first.

So, after dealing with the airport sweatiness and grabbing my bag from the carousel at baggage claim, I was off to find my Uncle Jimmy. He was the brains behind this idea in the first place, and was so generous with his frequent flier miles to get me out there. I was already sweating again after having to wait for my suitcase, but it was magnified in anticipation of the surprise we were about to pull off. I love surprises. I wish more people would surprise me as much as I like to try and surprise them. Combined with my Highly Sensitive Person trait, I could feel the excitement of the environment being pumped up the closer we got to my grandma’s house.

As we pulled into the driveway, the headlights could be seen from the living room and my grandma and mom were looking out the window. I stayed in the car and acted like I was my uncle’s girlfriend who was finishing up a phone call. My uncle went inside and said, “Okay, mom. The rest of your Christmas present finally arrived. UPS finally figured out what happened to it.” He opened the door with a big fanfare, and in I walked. It was my grandma, my aunt, and my mom (who had already been there for 3 weeks) in the living room, and it took my grandma a second to realize that it was me standing in the middle of the room. Once I said hello, her face just lit up. It was a bittersweet moment for me. I was so happy to be there, yet so scared of what she would look like after already having a couple rounds of chemo. She looked better than I thought, so that was good. I shockingly managed to keep my tears from spilling over, and then I looked over at my mom to say hello. She was pretty much dumbfounded, too, and my aunt hadn’t even looked up yet, since I was standing sort of behind the chair she was sitting in.

My Aunt Nancy said she thought Uncle Jimmy had been up to something, since the last time he was over he was walking around with a twinkle in his eye. Yep. That’s my uncle. He has such a big heart, especially for his family, and he spoils us any chance he gets. Now more than ever, I am so grateful to him for helping me to create these memories with my grandma, and with him. It was definitely a positive aspect of my layoff that I can now appreciate. If it weren’t for losing my job, I would not have been able to drop everything and fly out. It got me away from the doldrums of my job search and not having anywhere to really go during the day since most everything costs money. It was at my grandma’s house that I could simply be. Be there for a week of quality family time, forget about the job applications, and just reconnect with people whom I hadn’t seen in awhile. It allowed me to quiet the constant hum in my brain and slow down.

In the slowness of this week, I was able to do some forward thinking. All of the job interviews I had completed were now out of my hands, so there was no use worrying about the outcome. It was much easier to stop ruminating about everything since I wasn’t at home and had people to focus on. Coming up, I’ll be talking about some specific actions I took (and that were gifted to me by others) while visiting my grandma to help create the outcome I wanted upon my return.

Here are a few snapshots from my trip.

Maria and her grandma

My grandma won the Duncan Hines Baking with American Dash contest in 1985 for a recipe she made up. She’s awesome like that.

Maria and her mom

This is my wonderful mother. She and I got some quality time together during my trip.

Maria and her family

This is my maternal grandma’s side of the family, minus my other uncle.


Copyright © 2012 My Life as a Puddle

© 2017 My Life as a Puddle

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑