Awaken Your Passion: February Events

This February our Alive in All Seasons’ theme is Art: “Awaken Your Passion”. In a moving quote from Honoré de Balzac we are reminded that art and passion are inextricably linked; he states, “passion is universal humanity; without it, religion, history, romance and art would be useless.” Art is truly a conduit that allows us to experience the richness and brilliance of all that life has to offer. Art can have a profound effect upon us by providing nourishment to our spirit and soul.

As you know there is always something special going on here at Juniper Village at Spearly and this February we will celebrate another wonderful month filled with memories, laughter and the opportunity to create! This month we will open ourselves to various forms of art. We will be taking field trips to local museums, learning about the Great Masters, and creating masterpieces of our own using various mediums.

Please join us for our Valentine’s Day Bash featuring The Cupid Shuffle at 2:30 pm on February 14^th, our Spearly Family Craft Creation art project with light refreshments at 7:00 pm on February 20^th, and our 5^th Annual Spearly Art Show at 2:00 pm on February 27^th. We encourage you to review our newsletter calendar for other offerings and attend any or all of the activities that are of interest to you.

Come get together with us for our Alive in All Seasons programs this February and Awaken Your Passion!

Spearly Christmas 2013

Nowhere was the spirit of Christmas more evident than here at The
Spearly Center. Our community looked like one big family on Christmas
Day: staff in the Gift Giving Parade were decked out in their red and
green holiday outfits, residents were busy opening their many gifts,
and everybody enjoyed the Christmas dinner complete with turkey, roast
beef, stuffing, gravy, corn, and an assortment of holiday pies.

Weeks before this special holiday, residents completed their wish
list- everything from clothes, jewelry, sports memorabilia, and hobby
kits- of what they desired to receive from Santa. You could hear the
sound of tearing wrapping paper and see the smiles on residents' faces
when they opened their presents. Some residents proudly tried on
their new jackets, pajamas and sweatsuits, while others got right to
work on their new puzzle or art project. The gratitude and
contentment was contagious, and a good time was had by all!

The Price of Perfection - Lessons Learned by our Director of Community Relations Anne Gross

So what lessons have I learned from those moments in my past referenced in my last post?  Here are just a few:

1.        Sharing your vulnerabilities with others enhances compassion.  For example, if my mother and I could have shared her embarrassment when strangers stared at her when we went out, we both could have empathized with each other about our unique situation.  And if she could have shared with me how she yearned to be able to walk down the street with me eye to eye – instead of my pushing her in a wheelchair – I could have expressed my feelings of loss that I had a mother who couldn’t do the things that others mothers could, increasing tenderness both for myself and for my mother. 

2.        Intimacy derives from our ability to share both our strengths and our weaknesses.  My mother could never express her emotional and physical needs to others – such as what it was like when others left her do the things she couldn’t do.  Without a voice of her own, it was those closest to her who decided how she needed to deal with her disability, leading her to often feel misunderstood and angry.  To have a say in how we want to be treated we need to share both our strengths and our vulnerabilities.  

3.        It is important in the face of adversity to seek out others like yourself.  There is no better way to learn about yourself than to befriend others with similar struggles, helping you to realize that your feelings are “normal.”  This realization alone helps you deflate your sense of differentness and deficiency, making it easier to open up with others.

Most importantly, it is never too late to start such discussions with family members.  The next time your adult child visits, try talking to her about certain “taboo” topics in your family.  Who knows, it might open up lines of communication and intimacy that have long been buried.  

Image from Stockimages on http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/

The Price of Perfection by our Director of Community Relations Anne Gross

We live in a society where we are bombarded by images of lives that seem perfect – glamorous wives and handsome husbands effortlessly raising exceptional children.  So, when the unexpected happens – an illness, problems with our children, a divorce – we often become consumed by fears that we won’t be accepted by others if they know of our perceived imperfections.  Living in a society that puts a premium on silencing suffering, we instead project an upbeat, positive, and cheerful demeanor.  Not only do we withdraw and hide our problems from others, we often hide them from ourselves as well.

Although I’m certainly not recommending that we drown in our sorrows, we also need to ask ourselves if there is a price we pay when we focus solely on presenting the picture perfect family.  I know well the impact on a family when struggles are silenced in the hopes that this will lead to more acceptance by others.  Growing up in the 1950s, I was raised from birth by a paraplegic mother who lost the use of her legs after contracting polio at the age of two.  My family believed that if we could downplay the significance of my mother’s paralysis – by helping her accommodate to the world of the nondisabled, never discussing her disability, and always presenting a cheerful, upbeat attitude, we could “pretend” as if her paralysis didn’t exist. Although this philosophy helped my mother tremendously – she was an accomplished musician who married and raised two children – it also robbed our family of an opportunity to show compassion toward each other over our unique situation.  

Let me give you an example.  Several decades ago, my mother and I, in preparation for my upcoming wedding, headed down to the local florist in town.  Although I can count on one hand the number of times I broached the subject of my mother’s disability with her, in what I think of as a rare moment of courage, I expressed my wish that she could dance at my wedding.  My mother quickly rebuffed my desire with a curt “it doesn’t bother me,” which effectively buried the topic.  I felt a familiar anger toward her that my wishes – even in fantasy – had no voice.  Had we been able to acknowledge our loss – that it would have meant so much to have her be a part of the ritual first dance – it would have brought us even closer at such an important time in our lives.  Instead, we never discussed it and, at the wedding, everyone else in my immediate family participated while the mother of the bride sat alone at her table.  If we could have both expressed our feelings of differentness, together we could have arrived at a way to honor her by bringing her onto the dance floor for a special toast.  And, despite my mother’s words to the contrary, I could sense her pain that she was excluded. 

Image from Stockimages on http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/