“Run the Dishwasher Twice”: Permission to Make Everyday Life Easier

“Run the dishwasher twice.” Or even three times. I saw this in an article yesterday and loved it. The article was about mental health. A woman shared that she was struggling and didn’t know what to share with her therapist that day. I never have that challenge. But I get it. Oh do I get it. Sometimes everything is SO much that you don’t even know where to start. What to say. What to even admit out loud. It is just all too much.

And now Dave Matthews is singing in my head, “Too much to say. Too much to say.” And the song’s lyrics are so uncanny. Which brings me right back to the article. There is an unspoken rule that we should talk about the weather sometimes, right? When we have too much to say?

When our feelings are too heavy? Well in the article, the therapist asked the woman, loosely, what is the one thing on your mind weighing you down? She was afraid, embarrassed to admit that it was the dishes. How she always had to scrub them before washing them because the dishwasher didn’t work well.

“Run the dishwasher twice,” the therapist replied. The freedom. The lightness. The weight lifted. “Who says you can’t do that? Whose rule is it anyway?”

Sometimes you have to do what you need to do to feel good. My life is hard right now. I’m trying to not go there because I know people don’t want to read heavy stuff every day. I mean, I don’t want to read heavy stuff every day. I’d rather talk about the weather every day, like people say we are supposed to when we don’t feel great. And trust me, I get it. I’d rather report that every day is sunny and gorgeous and oh my god, it is just WONDERFUL. But right now, my life is more gray than orange.

So I’m trying to figure out what rules I want to follow and not follow to feel good. Which is why I loved this article. The weight lifted that came with the simple solution. –> –> –> The lovely defiance in it. It reminded me of the day I said to myself, “WEAR the darn jeans that are a size bigger!” So many people tell you not to keep jeans that are a size up. You know, the jeans that “used to fit” before you lost a little weight.

I wholeheartedly disa-friggin-gree. There is nothing worse than starting the day with pants that feel tight. Nothing worse.

And that feeling leads to a domino effect of blech feelings. Start the day feeling as confident as possible. Wear clothes that feel good. I have jeans in 3 sizes. And I’m grateful for all 3 sizes. Life is like a box of chocolates? You never know what you’re gonna get?

Well my hips and my body’s ability to retain water? I never know what I’m gonna get. I want to feel good in my body, in my day. I’ll run the dishwasher twice if I need to. I’ll keep backup jeans.

And I will keep posting content that doesn’t follow rules. Tell us all…lets get a nice little chit chat going… –> What is one rule that everyone says you “should” follow that you decided, “Eh, yeah, not so much.” Do tell! Give us all inspiration and help us feel a bit lighter today. Sending warmth,

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

Someone Else Has It Worse — and Your Pain Still Counts

Do you ever have those days where you feel like your pain, your struggle, isn’t worth sharing because someone else has it worse? Have you ever been told not to complain because, guaranteed, someone else has it worse? And have you ever been in the middle of a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day… wondering how you’ll make it to bedtime without collapsing… when the doorbell rings?

And there’s a delivery. And it’s for you. And for one small second, something in you shifts as a small smile spreads on your face. Not everything. And not completely.

But enough. Enough to make your struggle feel a little lighter. Enough to make you feel seen. Enough to remind you that you might actually make it through this moment. I have. This was me two days ago. Laying on the couch. Feeling crappy and crappy for myself. The doorbell rang. It was a flower delivery. I was confused. Mother’s Day had passed. The note simply said: “Congratulations.” I didn’t even know what the congratulations could be for.

I called the florist to ask who it was from. The flowers were from my fiancé. “Thanks for the flowers,” I said. “Um… what’s the congrats for?” “Congrats on making your new nonprofit official.” You read that right. Nonprofit. I’ve been dreaming of creating this for as long as my heart can remember. And it’s one step closer to happening. This happened last week. Even signed a contract for an office.

So more than one step closer actually. In all the preparation for my procedure, I lost sight of these very exciting milestones.

And then the recovery took over fast and furiously. The flowers? They didn’t fix my day, my mood, or my wound(ed heart.) They didn’t erase the hard. They didn’t make everything suddenly okay. They didn’t magically turn me into a glowing, productive human. But I didn’t go back to the couch. The flowers gave me just enough strength. Just enough energy. Just enough oomph to do a little work. They gave me just enough warmth and oomph to not lose the entire day to the couch.

They brought me back to life a little. Made me feel a little less sorry for myself. A little more seen. A little more able. Simply stated, they interrupted the gray. They brought in a little orange.

And that? Oh, the irony. Because what that moment did to me? That feeling. That pause. That tiny shift in the middle of a gray moment? That is all I’m going to say for now. Except this: It reminded me exactly why I’m building what I’m building. Why I’m so excited. Why I believe it’s needed. Why I cannot WAIT to share more.

My only wish? That I had 48 hours in a day, a team of 100 people, and fewer gray moments interrupting the progress. But alas. We build anyway. One step at a time. As Orange Rhinos do.

Sending my warmth and a little oomph.

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

Someone Else Has It Worse — and Your Pain Still Counts

Do you ever have those days where you feel like your pain, your struggle, isn’t worth sharing because someone else has it worse? Have you ever been told not to complain because, guaranteed, someone else has it worse? And have you ever been in the middle of a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day… wondering how you’ll make it to bedtime without collapsing… when the doorbell rings?

And there’s a delivery. And it’s for you. And for one small second, something in you shifts as a small smile spreads on your face. Not everything. And not completely.

But enough. Enough to make your struggle feel a little lighter. Enough to make you feel seen. Enough to remind you that you might actually make it through this moment. I have. This was me two days ago. Laying on the couch. Feeling crappy and crappy for myself. The doorbell rang. It was a flower delivery. I was confused. Mother’s Day had passed. The note simply said: “Congratulations.” I didn’t even know what the congratulations could be for.

I called the florist to ask who it was from. The flowers were from my fiancé. “Thanks for the flowers,” I said. “Um… what’s the congrats for?” “Congrats on making your new nonprofit official.” You read that right. Nonprofit. I’ve been dreaming of creating this for as long as my heart can remember. And it’s one step closer to happening. This happened last week. Even signed a contract for an office.

So more than one step closer actually. In all the preparation for my procedure, I lost sight of these very exciting milestones.

And then the recovery took over fast and furiously. The flowers? They didn’t fix my day, my mood, or my wound(ed heart.) They didn’t erase the hard. They didn’t make everything suddenly okay. They didn’t magically turn me into a glowing, productive human. But I didn’t go back to the couch. The flowers gave me just enough strength. Just enough energy. Just enough oomph to do a little work. They gave me just enough warmth and oomph to not lose the entire day to the couch.

They brought me back to life a little. Made me feel a little less sorry for myself. A little more seen. A little more able. Simply stated, they interrupted the gray. They brought in a little orange.

And that? Oh, the irony. Because what that moment did to me? That feeling. That pause. That tiny shift in the middle of a gray moment? That is all I’m going to say for now. Except this: It reminded me exactly why I’m building what I’m building. Why I’m so excited. Why I believe it’s needed. Why I cannot WAIT to share more.

My only wish? That I had 48 hours in a day, a team of 100 people, and fewer gray moments interrupting the progress. But alas. We build anyway. One step at a time. As Orange Rhinos do.

Sending my warmth and a little oomph.
xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

I’m Tired of Being Resilient: What I Finally Told My Therapist

Yesterday was a hard day. I finally shared with my therapist what I’ve been feeling since February; what’s been growing slowly but heavily. “This whole repeated skin c@ncer, now high-risk situation has me feeling depressed. It’s growing. I think we need to add it to the weekly topics. I’m tired of being resilient. Of laughing with my doctors that I’ll see them soon. I’m tired of coping. I’m tired of putting on a brave, I’m-fine face.

I’m tired of pretending I’m all good. I’m tired. So, so tired.” And I am. Situational depression isn’t new to me. I’ve been there. Here. I’ve let it linger for months. I’ve fought back.

After therapy, I went back to the couch and promptly slept from 10 to 3. Healing this go-around is seemingly harder. As I went in and out of sleep, a popular thought came to me. Repeatedly. “Depression is a liar.” Depression was trying to tell me that I’d have no energy for days to come. Depression was trying to tell me that I’d lost my groove altogether. Depression was trying to tell me that it would win. Ha!! My mind knows better.

It has learned better. It, I, fought back. I refused to go back to 2016, when depression did indeed win. I started to think… What if… What if I did something bold? Years ago, almost ten to be exact, when depression rolled in, I stayed hidden and didn’t share. I figured my way out eventually and came back online in 2022.

But what if this time, I don’t hide? What if this time, I keep writing? What if I share the tools I’m using while I’m using them?

Because here’s the thing. Depression isn’t always the big “D.” Sometimes it’s a little “d.” Sometimes it lasts for days. Or weeks. Or months. Or even years. And honestly, the tools I’ve learned to deal with the depression I face are the same tools I use when the gray in life hits in general. The heavy, blech moments that just happen because well, life happens. The ones that weigh things down. The ones that try to convince us we are stuck there.

And we all face those moments. Depression or not. I know they aren’t unique to me. Life is wonderful. It truly is. And also, life can weigh us down sometimes. I remembered yesterday — as my mind and I fought back the gray — that it is easier to begin feeling lighter when someone sees us. Shows up with us. For us. Yesterday, my fiancé sent me flowers celebrating an accomplishment I’m yet to share with all of you. Little did he know that seeing me, reminding me of the orange I’ve been working toward, would help me take one step forward.

One of my favorite tools. And honestly? One step forward counted. We are all in this together. When gray happens, we show up. With you. For you. For each other.

🧡 The Orange Rhino

Sending my warmth as always, xoxo, Sheila (Changed the order up today and soon it will make sense as to why it made sense today)