Tag Archives: Beach

Why Meditation Doesn’t Work for My ADHD Brain — and What Does Help

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Fastest way to make my blood boil? Besides, “take a deep breath?” Tell me to “just meditate.” Here’s the thing –> I can’t. I’ve tried. I cried once when I tried to meditate because I felt so frustrated. That was shortly after my marriage ended.

Okay, maybe that is actually why I cried. Either way, super fun times. Meditating just isn’t my thing. It makes me feel like I want to crawl out of my skin. It makes all the chitter-chatter in my ADHD brain even louder. More obnoxious. I know, I know. The irony is far from lost on me. These are all reasons why I NEED to meditate. Noted. “Keep trying,” they say. “Your nervous system needs it,” they say. “I know,” I say.

It just isn’t my thing right now. So…I beach instead. I walk in the waves. I listen to the seagulls. I stare out at the ocean. I don’t meditate. I beach. And wouldn’t you know… I recently read an article about how spending time near the ocean can have some of the same calming effects as meditation.

When you stare at the ocean, there’s very little visual disruption. The mind naturally rests a bit. And then there are the blues, the sound of the rhythmic waves and the gentle breeze. All of it can be soothing to the body.

When I go to the beach… my mind focuses on the sounds of the ocean. On the breeze. On everything in front of me—which isn’t a lot—instead of everything in my mind, which is a whole lot of heavy.

The beach is an entire sensory experience for me. And my mind focuses on just that. My mind settles. Everything in my head quiets. The only noises I hear are the soothing ones from the beach. The gulls. The waves. The breeze.

Sometimes even the laughter of kids. I don’t hear the noise of worry. I don’t hear the noise of stress. I don’t hear the noise of “Mom, Mom.” I don’t hear the noise of my to-do list. I don’t meditate. I beach. Unfortunately, I don’t beach enough.

But today I do, and it feels great. My biggest problem today is that someone’s gonna have to get me off the beach! I never, ever want to leave. I know a lot of people feel that way.

But for me, I also know it says something about how much my mind and body need places where everything feels quieter. I don’t live at the beach or even near it.

But my backyard feels a little bit like an oasis, and inside my house, I chip away at making it feel more and more like a beach house. With minimal visual interruption and maximum blues.

And I do all of this happily…even though everyone reminds me, “You don’t live at the beach, so why do you make your house look like one?” Um…because I don’t live at the beach. Obviously! Or, as a teenager recently said to me: “Obvi.” Obvi.

Okay then… If you don’t meditate—and you feel guilty like I sometimes do because everyone seems to do it and you should “just meditate”—please know there are other ways to find a similar feeling. Find what quiets the noise for you. I don’t meditate. I beach.

And I beach happily. Sending my warmth to you today, especially if you are seeking a little more quiet too.

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

When Family Traditions Change as Kids Grow Up

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I’m shaking as I type, and I haven’t even had my coffee. For the first time in fourteen years, I didn’t buy my sons the matching Old Navy 4th of July T-shirts.

And it’s hitting harder than I expected. I know. They’re T-shirts. Basic, silly T-shirts. Except they were never basic to me. They were the one thing that stayed consistent, no matter how much our 4th of July changed.

And it turns out, there are several other changes today I didn’t plan for…so yeah, I’m wishing I had the shirts. And yeah, I’m wishing change wasn’t happening…again. July 4, 2023 was Change 1.0. The experienced moms told me it would be okay. There would be new memories. They were right. And also, here I am. Change 2.0 is happening today, and once again, I’m feeling every bit of it. I feel it in my bones. Literally.

I’m jittery. I’m anxious. My body knows something is changing even as my rational brain keeps saying, “Sheila, not everything is changing. At least ALL your boys are here, together. That wasn’t even the plan a few days ago!” But still…. The back story. My boys and I used to go to Stone Harbor Beach every July 4th week. For years. First as a family of six, with my ex-husband. Then one year with him even though we were separated.

I can laugh now. We must have each had our own internal fireworks. We came home, went to couples therapy and promptly decided, yep, divorce is the right thing to do. Then I went to the beach with just my boys, then with my fiancé and his kids.

And then, in 2023, it stopped. My boys had jobs. The week was no longer an option. A three-day weekend didn’t always happen. It was heart-wrenching. I love traditions. I love the stability they offer in a world full of chaos. The knowing. The having something to look forward to. The ability to take the same picture year after year and pretend, for one second, that nothing is changing as fast as it actually is. (Did I mention I’m sentimental too?!) I did my best to make new traditions at home in NJ.

I mean, after all, we still had the annual Old Navy 4th of July shirts, right? At least I had the picture and the bickering to go with it?! Everything turned out okay. We were together. Laughing. Eating hot dogs. Doing sparklers. Fireworks in the local park didn’t compare to those over the ocean—and basically overhead—but I survived. It wasn’t the end of the world like I imagined. Anxiety sure can create the worst-case scenario. Then last year, a three-day weekend aligned and we made it back to Stone Harbor.

Oh, how my heart filled. And my pocket emptied! This year, another three-day weekend presented itself. So did my rational self. I decided it wasn’t worth the price. The boys had outgrown the hotel pool since we have one now. And since they are six feet tall, the small beds also weren’t working so well.

So we are home, again. I thought I was okay with that. We’d been home before. And Change 1.0 wasn’t actually so horrific.

But then I realized: for the first time in fourteen years, I hadn’t bought the shirts. A small detail. A massive impact. That is the thing about traditions. To everyone else, it can look like a shirt, a meal, a picture or a silly little ritual. –> But sometimes that tiny thing is what holds every memory over the years together; holds everyone together, BRINGS everyone together. At first, I was okay. I was even proud of myself for all the “self-growth” of being able to just roll with it.

I may or may not have high-fived myself. Then yesterday some conversations started popping up in the house and my pride turned into a little bit of panic. I had a vision for tonight: a family bbq like always, my boys and our picture. Apparently, my boys had their own vision: friends, more friends and a few people I haven’t met yet. Times have changed. The tide has changed. As it should. I know it will change again.

As tides do. But today? Right now? It’s a hard adjustment. And I know it will be okay. I really do. But knowing it will be okay doesn’t mean it feels okay right now. Right now? It feels blech.

And I need to let it feel blech for a minute so it doesn’t follow me into the fun later today. I’m just wishing I had the shirts to at least hold onto….one thing to bring me back to the past, ya know? And honestly, I don’t want to share the day I pictured as ours, with others. I could say no. I’ve been practicing that more and more. But my heart also wants to say yes. It wants to see my boys happy just as much as it wants to hold onto the version of today that would make me happy.

And if that ain’t motherhood. So I said yes. Seeing them happy will make me happy. Just in a different way than I planned. I will still get a picture before everyone arrives. Maybe I’ll make them hold up paper that says “Red Old Navy Shirt 2026” or “Blue Old Navy Shirt 2026.” There will probably be eye rolls. There will definitely be bickering.

But there will also be laughter. It will be a different memory…and it will still count. And actually, I think it will probably be a better, funnier picture.

Now that I think of it, I’m scared about what my boys will write on their pieces of paper. Maybe I should just find colored paper to give them and cut it out in the shape of a t-shirt?!

Today is definitely not gonna go as envisioned. No beach. No t-shirts. A little extra heavy on some emotions today. And also. Extra people. Which will bring extra laughter, extra joy and all that jazz. Both/And. Gray/Orange. Sending warmth to you today, especially if something is different today, a tradition is missing, maybe someone you love. I get it. I’m right there with ya. 

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

Skin Cancer Surgery, Fear and the Relief of Not Being Judged

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I kept trying not to cry. I knew getting upset would make it all hurt more. But I couldn’t help it. I did okay during the local anesthesia on my scalp. I made some weird noises out of discomfort. Wiggled my feet even. Otherwise I stayed perfectly still (kinda had no choice lol) The nurse? No judgement. Just a loving, gentle, “it’s okay, make all the noises you need to make. Wiggle your toes. Hum. Whatever helps you.

You’re doing great.” How nice not to be judged. Next up? Shaving my scalp. The minute they started to shave my head, the tears slowly formed at the corner of my eyes. I willed myself to stop because I knew if my blood pressure went up, it would create more pressure in the area where the procedure was about to take place. I successfully stopped (after a nice little pep talk with myself.) But then came round two of the procedure.

My face was covered. More hair needed to be shaved. Darnit. I tried and tried but couldn’t stop the tears. It was a much bigger area than expected.

When they were done, the cloth was removed from my face and the nurse, again so loving and gentle, and without judgement, said, “Oh, I see a tear.” Before I could ask, she had a tissue in hand and was dabbing my tears away. No, “are you okay?” or even a toxic positive pep talk. She instantly acted, let me feel, and didn’t make me talk or explain. She saw me. She was with me. She let me be me. Such an incredible gift.

Truth is that I was embarrassed for crying. I have had four of these procedures, one even on my eyelid, and I’ve never cried.

But this? This just hits different. I was so appreciative of her in that moment. The entire team knew the size of skin removed was larger than planned. The doctor knows me by now since we see each other every 6 months or so for a MOHs procedure. I’m so grateful for him and his team. Such incredibly kind, loving people. My plastic surgeon and his team were also reassuring. He did a great job. Kept me out of the operating room (which both he and my other surgeon didn’t know if it was possible) and was able to hide most of the scar in the hair.

I will still look different. But it is so much better than other outcomes. And now to go look for the most awesome daily beach hat to wear so I don’t need to keep repeating this little pattern. Oddly enough, I love, love, love hats but don’t like how I look in them.

But then again, that’s how I felt about sunglasses and now I found a pair I like. Who knows, maybe I’ll find one that can be embroidered with a cute ‘lil Orange Rhino?! Hoping you all are having a good week so far, and thanking you for your loving messages yesterday. (I’m still catching up. Did lots of sleeping yesterday and today.)

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

How to Bring the Feeling of the Beach Home When You Don’t Live There

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I don’t live at the beach. I live one hour away from a decent beach, two hours away from my favorite beach, and a four hour plane ride away from a tropical beach.

But oh, oh I dream of living at the beach and waking up to the sound of the waves and the colors of an orange and pink sunrise. The beach is my happy place. My sanctuary. It’s the place where stress instantly leaves my body, my thoughts instantly settle, my mind instantly finds clarity or creativity, and my whole being instantly finds peace.

Since I currently can’t up and move to the beach, and quite frankly I don’t think I will ever be able to afford my dream oceanfront beach house, I decided to make my house in the suburbs, a beach house.

There have been a few times when I have asked friends and neighbors who are designers to help me pick out a new couch or curtains because I was overwhelmed with too many little kids 😉 They asked about colors and this and that. I always answered, “I’m going for an ocean, beach feel. This is my beach house.”

Every time the answer was, “But this isn’t a beach house.”

Every time I answered, “I know, but it’s my beach house.”

This past summer, I saw this pillow and I immediately bought it. It now sits in my front hall for everyone to see when they walk in the door. It cracks me up and brings me so, so much joy. I was somewhat sad to pack it away last night as I put out the Christmas pillows. (You all know how much I love, and live for, decorating for Christmas.) In fact, I took it right back out.

My house is a beach house year round because it makes me happy. I don’t care what anyone thinks. Life is what we make it. What we dream it to be. IF we let it be that. IF we don’t succumb to other’s rules of how we should live. IF we stand by what we want and don’t people please. 

Same with our homes. Our homes, our homes are what we make them, are what we want them to be, what we need them to be. They don’t need to be fancy or decorative or on trend. They need to make us feel happy, warm. Hopefully they can feel like a sanctuary and bring us peace.

Whether it be from the paint colors or the softness of the couch.
Or the systems we use to ease the chaos of the day to day.
Or from the people we love and the memories we create together.
Or even from us, and the energy we bring because we’re living a life we love, and living by following our hearts, our wishes. I’m working on creating a life I love so that that energy flows over into our home.

I’m also working on making my home, our home, feel like a sanctuary. This community is one piece of my plan;) This pillow is just one piece of my home plan!

But it’s an important piece. It might say “Welcome to our Beach House” but what it also says is, “Welcome to a ‘Believe in Yourself’ and ‘What You Need to Feel Good’ House.” This pillow is such a beautiful reminder of how good it feels to follow my heart. And by the way, everyone smiles when they walk in and see it;) The irony isn’t lost and in fact, I think it’s admired. What have you done recently to follow your heart, despite what others said, and as a result found peace and joy?

Sending my warmth to go with your strength, today and always, and especially if you too, like me, are working every day to listen to your heart more and more and listen less to others’ “should’s.”

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

Weight, Comfort and Health: Why Starting Again Can Be Complicated

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Alright, gonna be upfront. This is a post about a struggle I’m having with my weight, although really, it’s not about my weight but my search for comfort and getting my brain to cooperate;)

***If this is a topic that might bother you, please stop reading it.This is not a shaming post nor is it a post saying we should all be thin. This is about my health journey per doctors who know about my entire medical story and needs.***

So here I go. I need to restart my journey. I declare it here, today, that I’m getting back on track. For me. For. Me. For my health. For my future. For my family. I was doing so well on my path to get my weight in a good place to help keep me from getting Type 2 Diabetes.

6 weeks ago I was at the lowest I had been in years, down 10 pounds and well on my way to the goal two doctors shared. It’s not that I’m unhealthy per say, it’s simply that the goal weight will really do my body good. That and well, the habits to get me there are desperately needed, in general. I will benefit from them, in general. 6 weeks ago, I literally felt so much pride and joy. Oh so much.

And then stress hit and it hit hard and with it, perimenopause came in like a wrecking ball. Perimenopause (or maybe even menopause) came in at a whole new level. Put the two together? OOF. Give me salty foods, sweet foods, alcohol during the week (instead of my 1 drink per weekend), carbs, you name it. Meal planning? Out the window. Eating leftover pizza and anything I could grab quickly? Ice cream, cheez its, you name it.

Bring it on. With pepperoni and hot fudge! I quickly noticed what was going on. I didn’t like it, but I couldn’t stop myself. I tried so hard, but I just didn’t have the resolve. It seemed like I cared, but I didn’t? It was bizarre. Self-sabotage at its finest. It always happens – I start doing well and then I stop trying, I stop keeping up the habits that were making me feel oh so good. I start feeling cruddy all over – physically and emotionally.

It absolutely stinks. I figured it out the other day. The self-sabotage wasn’t intentional this time, it was just bad timing. It was poor stress management. You see, I was (am?) feeling out of control by all the challenges and stress in life. I’m trying so hard to handle many difficult situations, yet feeling like I’m not succeeding. Mentally it’s “why bother trying to work hard and do this and do that if I can’t make progress?” So then I’d go to eat something to feel better.

When I do, my mind says to me, “Come on Sheila, you know you want to avoid Type 2 Diabetes, you can do this, find a better way to comfort yourself.” But instead of listening, my mind replies with what it’s been saying to the stress, “Why bother? What’s the point?” Oops!

And then my brain adds the old thought that I know from my past experiences, the thought that it’s used to, “I’m just going to gain weight again anyways, it’s what always happens. I never succeed.” My brain isn’t used to the new success I’ve had. My brain isn’t fully used to the new habits and how they’ve stuck. Oof. My brain confused my lack of success with the stresses in life with my success with improving my health.

Knowing this new nugget is great. BUT THEN, I have to go to myself, okay, so now what? What do I do with this? Well, I need a substitution for the behavior.

When I want comfort from stress, what can I do instead of reaching for comfort food? Besides having a chat with myself, reminding myself that I’m mixing up my messages 😉 I asked myself this the other day. Oddly enough, the same day I was listening to a podcast about screen time. It said that people should ask themselves, “when they find themselves doom scrolling, they should say, ‘what do I need to feel better right now?'”

I put these two questions together and came to the question I always ask myself, WHAT DO I NEED? What do I REALLY, really need? This prompted me to think, what if I can’t get it, what I really, really need? What if what I need isn’t available? What if what I need is so deep and intangible that that’s why I’m reaching for, doing something tangible? What if what I need is a long vacation? Deeper connections, or at least more time with my good friends? Greater feelings of security, certainty?

As soon as I had this thought, I found myself sitting still (in my minivan of course) in total silence. It clicked. My needs are big right now and not entirely attainable at the level I crave. And so I take nibbles of them. I break off pieces of them.

I can’t get a vacation but I can look at pictures of old ones for a little while and reminisce and hear the ocean.

I can make plans with friends more often.

I can take one action towards managing my budget.

And, when I go for comfort food, I can say to myself, “I might want this…but what I really NEED is comfort. What will actually comfort me right now because this isn’t really gonna do it.”

Because it’s not. Within ten minutes I’ll feel crappy. Guaranteed. Micro-actions. That’s where it’s at. That’s where I will start today. (Along with a MACRO dose of grace and love for myself!!)

 What about you? What micro-action will you take today to help fulfill one of your needs?

Sending my warmth to go with your strength, today and always, especially if you too are on a personal journey and feeling a little stuck. I believe in you and know and am right there with ya.

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

 

***Reminder: it is easy to misinterpret what we read online without fully knowing a person, their full journey etc. That happened to me last time I wrote about this subject so I’d like to avoid that this go around.

I am not one to shame others nor am I one to say we all need perfect bodies. TRUST me. Please think of this before you comment negatively. I will remove without hesitation any comments that attempt to make me feel bad about myself.***

What an Eclipse Taught Me About Connection and Being Present

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For me, the coolest part about the eclipse…wasn’t the eclipse. It was what the event achieved in totality. (See what I did there lol?) The eclipse brought people together.

Generations.
Families.
Teachers.
Students.
Strangers.

It got people outside, off their phones, to open spaces where they sat on benches, picnic blankets, beach chairs and just waited, patiently without urgency. It (mostly) put errands on pause, work on pause, appointments on pause. It gave people something positive to talk about, something scientific, artistic, beautiful, fascinating.

The total eclipse didn’t just create a direct connection between the sun and the moon, it helped create a connection between people. And my gosh, we all need more moments like yesterday. More positive interactions with people that bring us together, help us to pause, to slow down, to find common ground – with people we know, and don’t.

Just look at social media and all the genuine, happy, photos. You can see the relaxation, the joy. You can feel it radiating off the screen. I saw it and felt it everywhere.

On our local village green.

In front of our library where people gathered around a telescope.

When two little kids greeted their dad as he exited the train station and handed him eclipse glasses and one exclaimed, “you’ll see the moon!”

I myself, had a beautiful interaction with a stranger. I had just hopped out of my car at my son’s physical therapy appointment. I had been taking pictures from my window

“Did you actually get any good ones?” He asked.

“I did! I put the lens from the eclipse glasses on my camera and that helped. Here check these out!”

And then we looked at them together. It was awesome. It took an ordinary moment I would have otherwise shared by no one and made it a little more extraordinary.

And then I went into my son’s appointment and shared the pictures with my son, his therapist and another older gentleman and we all connected over the eclipse and the good ‘ole iPhone vs my Samsung debate! I didn’t get to enjoy the eclipse with all my kids which was a total bummer. They did get to watch it at school though (thank you school for providing glasses for everyone and taking the kids outside!) But we did talk about it…and we did all at least have our connection moment when we attempted to stay up late to watch UConn totally win the title…again. (Yep, UConn basketball family here.)

I gotta be honest. Going into the eclipse, I was all, “what’s the hype. Is it over yet?” Now that it’s over, I gotta say, “Yes, it was beautiful, cool and fun to watch and worth the hype.” Not just because it brought people together, but because it reminded me to slow down and enjoy the bright, warm moments that are happening around me, in spite of the darker ones.

I was going to skip out on the whole eclipse thing. I’m so glad that I didn’t. It was just the heartwarming experience my heart needed. It was a total eclipse of the heart;) (sorry, not sorry, couldn’t resist) and the energy the entire experience gave off, set me up for a nice night with my family. And we needed it.

We all need connection. Genuine connection. It helps us endure the harder times. What will you do today to connect with others? Doesn’t have to be big. It can simply be having a conversation with the barista, complimenting someone on their outfit and sharing joy over spring clothes, or calling a friend.

Or chat with me! Link to set up a call with me in the comments! I have a few openings in the next week to talk for 15 minutes or so. I miss talking with you all. Those chit-chats were the bright spots of my week! Sending my warmth to go with your strength, today and always,

 

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

Skin Cancer Scars: They Don’t Have to Be Beautiful to Be Survivable

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Scars hurt. They aren’t always beautiful. But we handle them and heal from them. “It will just be a scar. I can handle a scar.” I confidently said to my dermatologist. This wasn’t my first time having a biopsy on my face and probably won’t be my last. I’ve had basal cell skin cancer on my forehead and my lower eyelid.

And now likely dead center on my nose. I joked that I love Christmas so looking like Rudolph for a few weeks if I have a procedure to remove the skin cancer cells won’t be the end of the world. In all seriousness, as skin cancer is very serious, as my doctor and I discussed the options, I meant what I said when I told him I could handle the procedure and the scars. Yes – scars. The location of this problem area probably means they will need to take skin from my forehead to patch my nose.

So I will have two scars. There were other options but none guaranteed cancer free and given my history, I wanted, no needed, guarantee.

So I wanted the biopsy – even if it came back negative. The scar was worth the risk. Even if it meant pain (which it did.) Even if it looks not so beautiful (which it doesn’t, and which it won’t.) It is just a scar. A scar and the pain that caused it, will pass. I will not remember the pain I felt or the ugliness I saw in the mirror. Pain is temporary. It still might come and go as the scar fades, but eventually it will barely be noticeable. A scar will fade.

At first, when the scar is ever present and I can’t bear the sight, worst case, I can apply make up. I can find a way to make do for the moment.

But as time passes, it will fade and barely be noticeable. I will look in the mirror and have to search to see the marks. And one day, I will forget to search at all. A scar is part of my history. Yes, these scars remind me that I should have listened to my mother about wearing hats as a kid. They also remind me of all my fun times I had at the lake in New Hampshire growing up AND all the fun times I have had at the beach with my kids as a grown up.

And there is more. A scar inspires me. It reminds me that I can handle pain and come out the other side. It reminds me that I can look in the mirror, feel uncomfortable and build self-confidence around the notion that beauty is on the inside. It reminds me that the past is the past, we live, we learn, we do better, we move forward.

A scar reminds me to find the “orange” in the situation…the fun memories that did happen in the sun, the new opportunities to finally learn how to apply makeup, the fun chances to shop for awesome hats and sunglasses (OR to create a line of them….) Scars, physical or emotional, are a part of life. They hurt. They can be ugly. But we get through them. We heal.

Sending warmth and strength to you all today and a loving reminder to wear hats and sunglasses.

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

The Never-Ending Dishwasher Cycle — and the Tiny Thing That Makes It Better

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This is my favorite time of the night <insert sarcasm> It’s when I realize that we need to empty the dishwasher so that we can…

load the dishwasher so that…

the counter is clear so that…

I can cook dinner only so that…

I can make a mess again and have more dirty dishes and pans so that…

we can empty the dishwasher and load it, yet again.

The only saving grace?! The dish soap. It’s a pretty blue. I look at it and pretend it is the ocean.

No joke. Ya gotta do what you gotta do to get through the monotony!

Oh the other saving grace? In between the loading of the dishwasher is Chicken Parmesan and what is better than that? Ooey gooey bubbly cheesy goodness coming up!

Oh, I know what is better. It is the ONE MEAL all my kids eat not only without complaining but with COMPLIMENTS. Compliments people. Actually, “Mom, this is the best meal ever, you are amazing!”

So dishes be loaded.

Counters be cleaned.

It shall be worth it. (She says on repeat so she doesn’t lose her sh*t in the process!)

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino