‘Waiting on the world to change’ sounds so…well, lazy. Waiting, as if one person, one voice, could not possibly make a difference. It does seem insurmountable, but when one person and then another person, and then another person and so forth start moving in the direction of change, pretty ... Read More »]]>

Driving to work this morning, I was listening to John Mayer’s “Waiting on the World to Change”. Love the song, but I find some fault with it and as I thought more and more about it, one thought led to another and the snowball turned into an avalanche of thoughts and feelings.

‘Waiting on the world to change’ sounds so…well, lazy. Waiting, as if one person, one voice, could not possibly make a difference. It does seem insurmountable, but when one person and then another person, and then another person and so forth start moving in the direction of change, pretty soon things are moving in the right direction! Waiting on the world to change just seems to me like an endeavor that can lead to only one certain outcome: nothing will change.

You know, as Americans we pride ourselves on all of these things that we profess to be so great about our country, our culture, our way of life. I feel like we have gotten so wrapped up in patting ourselves on the back that we have forgotten the very reasons that we are the ‘land of the free and the home of the brave’. The struggles, the sacrifice, the values, the hard-working characteristics of the general American people has gone… somewhere. Somewhere where we have forgotten and need to get back to, desperately.

When John Mayer sang “Waiting on the World to Change” all I could think of was 9/11 and the aftermath. It was this horrifying blow to us as Americans, and it was the only time in my whole life that I have seen the highly touted “American Pride” actually kick into gear. Our grief as a country suddenly brought us together, we were all watching the news and grieving for our fellow Americans instead of watching awards shows and reality tv; we were flying our beautiful flag at our residences, even on our cars, all across this great country. For a good length of time, we were again united, under God, and indivisible… with liberty and justice for all.

And despite all of the horrifying events of 9/11 and its aftermath, I felt a swell of happiness and pride to be part of something so unified, something so important.

And then, like everything else that is American these days, we fell off the wagon again. Our patriotism and grief slowly gave way to our busy schedules and lives. Granted we became divided again as a presidential election loomed in the future and in some ways, I guess that is going to happen.

It just felt good to be united, even for a little while. Doing something good. We should be doing that again. We should be uniting and banning together, perhaps we cannot change the world right now, but at least we could get started getting our own country in order. If each one of us sits around just waiting on the world to change like John Mayer, I think we’re going to be waiting an awfully long time. But maybe, just maybe if each one of us did just a little bit of good, a baby step in the right direction and started talking about the change we want to be part of, perhaps our actions would pay themselves forward and we again would begin to unify as one nation.

I know I wrote a post a while back about an email that I received that really hit home to me. The email is below:

One Light Bulb at a Time

I found myself nodding my head vehemently throughout her explanation of how she feels (or maybe more accurately: how she doesn’t feel) and how nothing seems ... Read More »]]>

Last week I sat through lunch with several women of different ages, backgrounds, and walks of life and we had the most interesting conversation about clinical depression. One of the women in the group opened up about how her widely popular anti-depressant doesn’t seem to be doing a darned thing to help her, and we started talking about depression and its devastating effects.

I found myself nodding my head vehemently throughout her explanation of how she feels (or maybe more accurately: how she doesn’t feel) and how nothing seems to matter, no interest, no energy, no life… How I could relate! She talked about how sunny days make her actually feel worse, she can see the potential of a sunny day and all she could accomplish, but she just doesn’t. She can see her life passing in front of her but she cannot make herself get out and actually live it.

Oh how I understand those feelings. I felt them before too. I hope that in a small way, my understanding of exactly how she feels helps her in some way because it is such a lonely existence when you are dealing with clinical depression. This I know acutely.

One of the women at the table, a young college student, couldn’t understand the difference between just feeling down and depressed, and suffering from depression long term. When she said, “just get up and out of the house! Just make yourself do it! You’ll see, you’ll feel better”, I just wanted to strangle her. I think the other woman did too!

Suffering from depression is like suffering from a migraine headache. Until you actually have it happen to you, you don’t know what you’re talking about. A headache isn’t a migraine, and feeling down one day or even acouple of days, is not being depressed.

The interesting thing I have witnessed since dealing with my own bouts of depression (the first one was 1999-2001 when I lived in Venezuela and the second was in 2005 until 2006) is that the person suffering from the depression consciously knows that something just isn’t right, but they are powerless to do anything about it. As a newlywed in Venezuela, I knew that I was not acting like myself day after day isolating myself in the house, insulating myself from contact with anyone, not looking in mirrors, not eating, not even bathing or dressing myself for days at a time. I knew I was having some sort of problems, knew that I shouldn’t be acting/feeling/doing these things, yet I just couldn’t stop. I felt like my friend, as if the world were passing me by, and as upset as that made me, I couldn’t bring myself to do a damned thing about it.

It happened again in 2005 when we moved to the ranch. I think that if I had to guess, I would say that huge moves triggers something in me that pulls me under. I spent most of 2005 isolated in the house again, this time a new mother, and I used my son as my excuse for everything. I was afraid to drive! I was afraid of having to talk to others, afraid of going through the bank drive thru! Paralyzed by my own mind, stuck in the house and incapable of moving.

When I think back about how desperate I felt, it is a wonder that my husband stayed with me. I was such a basketcase. Such a mess. And the craziest part is that while I was going through that, I actually knew how foolish and silly I seemed, but I could not change.

This is Depression…

So, how did I get out of these situations both times? Well the first time, I tried medication. But it  didn’t work, in fact, in lots of ways things were worse when I took an anti-depressant.  Thankfully I had my parents and my close friends (and the blessed internet and videophone) to  help me the first time I endured depression. I did hit a point in late 2000 when I thought I could  not go on, and I made plans to move home to be with my parents. Big D made the move with me, of course. He has always been my rock.

Being home eventually pulled me out of my first bout with depression. Familiar surroundings, home, and my old stomping grounds helped me to get back to living, though it took a long while.  We all started to slowly see the transformation happening though: my hair started to grow  again, I gained a little weight (I had dropped from 145 when we got married to 115. I am 5′10″!),  and even though I wasn’t my loud and boisterous self as much, I was getting out of the house.  Somehow my home life was healing my deep wounds.

In 2005, I didn’t have that luxury. I was in a new place, far from home and family and friends. My Mom, my best friend, had passed away, and I was stuck on the ranch with a toddler. No work, no friends, nothing to do except sit in the house day after day and wait for my husband to come home. Except for the addition of our son and the fact that we were now in the United States, I felt very much the way I had all those years prior in Venezuela. Lost all day every day in my own thoughts, waiting for my husband, my Knight in Shining Armor, to ride in and save me, day after day…

And that is a hard situation to be in when you are depending on someone else to fulfill your every need. Spending all day waiting for D to come home meant that I had to spend almost every waking hours in my own head, and self-talk can really be poisonous if you’re not careful.

And I wasn’t careful. I was horrible to myself. The more and more I had thoughts pop into my head with no one around to contradict them or offer their own ideas, the deeper and deeper I fell.

My saving grace was a stranger who owned a store in my small town. One day that I absolutely forced myself to go to town and walk into a shop that I had secretly been coveting for months, the shop owner spoke to me and in that instant, it was like I saw a light. There was hope. She sparked something in me that helped to pull me out of the depths of my despair. She was a God Wink, and became so much more to me than just a shop owner, but one of my very best friends. She was put in my path that day by Someone who knew I needed help. Thank God. Literally.

During this roundtable lunch we had last week, when my friend opened up about her depression, I knew it. She had all of the signs, but I didn’t have confirmation. The fact that she opened up at all and announced to us that she is suffering was like a chorus of angels because it was a way to ask for help. I have another friend on Facebook who is also suffering with her own deep depression and the overtures that she has made in mentioning different things lets me know that she, too, is opening up about how she is feeling and ready for help.

Help comes in many forms. What helped me might not help them, but one thing I’m sure of is that you cannot help yourself with this one. It requires patience, it requires understanding, and it requires determination. Personally, I think that combating depression requires a short term and long term goal that others help you achieve. Not a goal  that is set and executed by yourself, because again, you will become your own worst enemy. A goal that you openly discuss with someone you do not want to disappoint.  That fear of disappointing a loved one seems to be the only thing that might move you off center and get you moving. At least it did me. The first time my new and fragile marriage was the catalyst that moved me off dead center. I did not want to disappoint my husband or our parents. The second time, I did not want to disappoint my son. I wanted to be a Mother he could be proud of, not be his liability…

These things have been bouncing around in my head for days and I just thought I would sit down and let it all out. It helps me to get it off my chest and maybe- just maybe, it will help someone else, too.

Casey Roon de Pacheco, author
Just Me…the Crazy Rancher’s Wife

Photo credit: Casey Roon de Pacheco. All Rights Reserved.

There was a person at the barn yesterday who was here with horses and while the horses munched on their afternoon feeding, we sat and talked. A few months ago, she and I had discussed our love for dogs, most specifically German Shephards, and she had given me some natural suggestions for ... Read More »]]> Saturday I spent the day at the barn. It wasn’t my intention as the day started, I had my own list of things to do, but like most days, I stopped at the barn and hung around a little too long. Before too long, I was put to work!

There was a person at the barn yesterday who was here with horses and while the horses munched on their afternoon feeding, we sat and talked. A few months ago, she and I had discussed our love for dogs, most specifically German Shephards, and she had given me some natural suggestions for improving my dog’s skin and coat health (salmon oil is the trick, btw). Anyways, I figured it couldn’t hurt to try her suggestion and after two weeks of salmon oil on Cala’s food, I could see a dramatic change in her coat and skin. I had received very wise advice.

So yesterday I wanted to thank her for having shared her knowledge with me. She went on to tell me some fantastic, yet true, stories of natural and organic remedies that she has known about for years. She told me her own personal story of a large wound on her leg that Neosporin actually made worse, and how she took matters into her own hands and found out about Manuka Honey (its honey from New Zealand) that cured her wound. But it didn’t cure it before she was referred to a wound clinic, and when she spoke with the doctor there, she pulled the honey out of her purse and he said, “WHERE DID YOU GET THAT?” and she instantly thought that he was going to scold her. Instead, he whipped out his own pot of it and said that they have used it at the wound center for years but it is not common knowledge. (Understand me: drug companies don’t want you to know about this natural cure!)

I made mental note of the name and the story she told me and I researched the honey this morning and already ordered my first bottle from manukahoneyusa.com

She then asked me if I believed there was a cure for cancer. I told her yes, but that finding a cure for cancer is big business and that we wouldn’t be given that information for anything! She agreed, but then she told me this God Wink that happened to her recently when she learned about the information relating to asparagus. Yep, asparagus. She recounted the story that I dug up on the internet this morning and have linked to here. To tell you the truth, I don’t know that there is a ‘magic cure’ for cancer, but the anti-carcinogenic properties and antioxidants in asparagus certainly are real. Please read the article and consider pureeing your own asparagus and taking your tablespoons daily as it certainly cannot hurt anything and will be good for you. I love how the biochemist relates his belief that “what cures can prevent”. Start taking your asparagus now! I am!

Asparagus has been grown since ancient Egypt. The Romans ate it year round in season, and dried in winter. It was known even then for its medicinal properties. Like everything else, it fell out of fashion after awhile and was replaced but the “next big thing”, however, it is the same vegetable it has always been and it is a ‘superfood’ that we should all consider growing in our gardens, buying, and eating. According to everything that I am reading, it is actually best to eat the asparagus cooked, though raw is certainly better than nothing! Steam your asparagus to eat, or steam it and then pureed it and put it in the freezer and scoop out a tablespoon a day. A spoonful a day keeps the doctor away!

We also talked about the importance of beets. I have never eaten a beet, though recently I was asking friends on Twitter about beets and their taste just out of curiosity. Beets are another vegetable that has strong effect on our digestive systems and should be consumed frequently. Clean out that liver of yours and eat some beets!

Heck, don’t stop there! Get some asparagus going too and don’t forget the honey!

*****IMPORTANT******
Did you know that the honeybees are diminishing? Remember the Bee Movie? Well it wasn’t fictional, its real. The honey bees are diminishing and I’ll bet you didn’t know how integral they are to our everyday lives, did you? Here’s an excerpt from www.helpthehoneybees.com, a campaign founded by Haagan-Daaz.

    One out of every the three bites of food an average American eats is directly attributed to honey bee pollination.3

    Honey bees are responsible for the pollination of more than 100 crops, including fruits, vegetables, nuts and seeds, and provide 80 percent of the country’s pollination services.4

    The honey bee is responsible for $15 billion in U.S. agricultural crops each year.5

    Bees fly approximately 10 to 15 miles per hour and visit about 50–100 flowers in each pollination trip.6

    To produce one pound of honey, honey bees must visit two million flowers and fly 55,000 miles.7

When a honey bee returns to the hive after finding a good pollen source, it gives out samples of the flower’s nectar to its hive mates and performs a dance that details the distance, direction, quality and quantity of the food supply. The richer the food source, the longer and more vigorous the dance.8

Bees are dying due to poor nutrition and pesticides, mainly. They need things to pollinate, and we need them to do it. Here is how you can do your part to help: Plant a Bee-Friendly Garden.

“Did you know that saving a bee is as simple as planting a seed? It’s true. By planting your very own bee-friendly garden, you can keep our little friends buzzing and pollinating. Don’t worry if you don’t have a green thumb–we’ll give you simple instructions that show you how”…. go to www.helpthehoneybees.com to download the simple instructions.

Photo Credit © Olga Lyubkina | Dreamstime.com © Sak12344 | Dreamstime.com © href="http://www.dreamstime.com/Grekoff2007_info">Vladimir Grekov | Dreamstime.com

Why do I worry? I mean, he’s with his Dad, ... Read More »]]> This past Sunday I was late going to the barn to watch my son’s riding lesson. I stayed behind doing dishes and straightening the house as we still had guests and I was moving slowly on Sunday morning. I sent little D off with his Dad to the barn, and every time I do that, I have a slight pang of worry that is every mother’s burden, but I seem to have it more than others, I call it the Grandma Roon complex (my paternal grandmother could worry herself about anything)…

Why do I worry? I mean, he’s with his Dad, he’s in capable hands, and my son, although he’s just 5, has a good head on his shoulders. I guess I just worry about the unknown, what I can’t control. After all, I know I’m a control freak! Let’s not forget here: he’s going to the barn where there are several dozen 4-legged animals that outweigh him by thousands of pounds! I’m tellin’ you: that’s reason enough to worry, isn’t it?

I fought the urge to chase after him and I busied myself with the dishes and the laundry, took my shower and dressed, and after an hour or so, took off on foot to the barn. I took my time walking, breathing in the fresh air and making mental notes about drinking in the beauty of the day. Its moments like that that really invigorate me and when I feel closest to God. I can tune into the birds singing and hear the leaves on the trees rustle as I pass them, and I’m acutely aware of the miracles I’m witnessing. I try to lose myself in those moments as often as I can, so I forced myself to concentrate on the moment and not worry about the barn.

When I got to the round pen, I could see Grant, the appaloosa, loping around with a little boy in a skeleton t-shirt, controlling the action. As I got closer, I marveled at how little D is beginning to ride like his Daddy, same mannerisms, same seat, same subtle confidence and demeanor. My eyes filled with tears of pride watching this beautiful child grow before my very eyes.

I believe that there is just so much good that comes from having animals and teaching your child how to care for, enjoy, and live among them. To see the bond that is formed between a boy and his horse, or his dog, or his cat is just a beautiful thing. An animal to love and care for is a great life lesson in responsibility and love, and so fulfilling (for everyone involved). I am so proud of my son for his accomplishments riding, but also because of the firm but gentle way he asserts himself with his animals, and how much love and praise he pours on them. I believe that a great deal can be told about a person by the way you watch them treat their animals, and yesterday I was blown away by the way my son rode his horse, bathed and groomed him, and how he praised him for a job well done.

My worries flew out the window as I watched that little man growing before my very eyes and I turned my eyes upward and said ‘thank you’ for being here to witness yet another of His miracles in progress…