Wishing versus Working: New Series

This morning I heard a fantastic quote on my drive in to school:

There is no shortage of people willing to win, but there is a shortage of people willing to do the work required to win.

Now, this quote wasn’t in relation to a sports team, but rather in the context of life in general, and specifically in the context of our relationship with God. This really got me to contemplating:

 

Am I putting in the work required to have a purposeful life, or am I simply going through the motions and wishing it were so?

 

The more I tried to dissect how these challenges applied to my life, the more areas I began to see were included. I mean, seriously, this “wishing” versus “working” mentality and ethic, could apply absolutely everywhere in my life. Think about it: career, housing, transportation, health, and oh so critical…the relationships we build (or destroy) with our spouse or partner, parents, in-laws, siblings, children, even our ex’s, and of course, our first relationship with our Heavenly Father.

The radio show spoke a great deal about the ethic of David as a “winner” who was willing to do the work, regardless of how seemingly menial, that it took to fulfill his promises.   I won’t recount that entire story here; you can read up more on that yourself. Personally, I’ve started here… http://www.gotquestions.org/man-after-God-heart.html   Seems like a good place to begin my deeper study. I’m a “people person”, in spite of being an introvert, so the idea of more deeply exploring my relationships with others and questioning if I am truly doing the work it takes to make these relationships meaningful and fruitful, or if am only giving lip-service to wanting them to work, was a great challenge to me. Meaning, I’m not first questioning that these relationships exist, but am I doing the work needed to make any one of those relationships successful?

       So, in genuine effort to put in the work to win, I’d like to launch a series of discussions about the effort required to win at relationships. I’m no expert certainly, but I’m more than willing to share my stories: triumphs and failures, along with the lessons I’ve learned along the way. Please jump in and share your own stories or ideas for us to explore. I’d love to talk with you!

Halloween or Thanksgiving?

So yesterday was a typical, fall day in the Old Dominion…bit gray, drizzly off and on… No wait, that would be an average day in the countryside of England. But the air was crisp, bit damp, overcast: my kind of relaxing-with-no-agenda weather. “Bruce” and I were just taking it slow; farmers’ market, coffee and breakfast, visit with the sis and her family, more coffee, wandering aimlessly around a really cool (not so little as it turns out), shop in Chester that showcases various artisans’ wares and second-hand goods. Check out The Lazy Daisy if you’re ever in town. Bring your coffee and take time to peer into every nook and side room; there’s no telling what you will find: from the hair bows in school colors for the cheerleaders in your life to a chicken crate repurposed into a coffee table. It’s all there. For us arsty/crafty folks, places like this are heaven sent! The Tattooed Boy Wonder was home from college, and having fun just hanging with his brother, so of course, Buffalo Chicken pizza was on the menu for dinner, preceded by very manly sandwiches….BLT with cheese. Bacon makes everything better, but I digress.

 

It was on the way to the old ‘hood to pick up this heart-attack inducing pizza that I decided to detour past the old house. Bruce had never seen it, so in the interest of sharing my past, I swung by. Big mistake.

 

I had no idea just how many bad memories were attached to that place, until I drove past it. It was so swift, and so unexpected, that it took every ounce of self-control to not floor it Dukes of Hazard style and get out of that cul-de-sac. Don’t get me wrong; we had some laughs there too. But the majority of experiences there were just depressing. Dark. Stressful. Scary. Like a perpetual monster under your bed in the night. Not just the life events, but the house itself. It wasn’t until after we had closed on the house that we learned a teen had died while living there (not in the house, but in a car accident). Even the high school my boys attended seemed cursed with a high accidental death rate among the student body. The frights of October 31^st had nothing on the “cloud of doom” that seemed to hang over that place.

 

I flashed back and remembered that while living there, I experienced the darkest days of my life. My marriage disintegrated, and I sunk into a depression that I didn’t think I’d ever dig my way out of again. Granted, I started to pull myself together there too, but the damage was already done. The house just had “bad juju” as a friend likes to say. In those brief moments as I rolled past the yard and the house that now just seemed quite ugly and cloned (planned community you know…you’re not permitted to show any individuality unless approved by a committee in advance), I lost sight of where I was now, only seeing the darkness that hung over that place.

 

The whole drive back home, my mind flipped through the Rolodex of events as if trying to tally every negative moment that occurred there. I finally crawled in the shower, as if I could wash those painful memories off like dust and mud. As I stood under the steaming water, near to tears, I just sent up a simple prayer of thanks for a reminder of where I was now. I didn’t need to forget those memories, but I needed to lose my grip on their place in my past. I believe I was led past that house again in order to fully appreciate what I do have, just how great are the gifts that I have now. I still struggle with deciding about the path my journey will take, but I am truly blessed to know that I am loved; that by turning my life over to God’s will instead of mine, I can find my way through any challenge. It may be a bumpy path at times to traverse, but I will make progress. My vision for my life’s work is becoming a bit more clear day by day, as I embrace that I am meant to serve and love others through my vocation, my service to my new home church and community, and my relationships with those around me. It has also become critical to me that I grow my writing as well as my side business as these celebrate who I am as an artist: a description of me I have taken a curiously long time to fully embrace. I also know that just as I have rediscovered this side of me that lay buried for too long, I am meant to encourage that gift and passion in others who either lost touch with that part of themselves or who are only just coming to understand that it burns within them as well.

 

This morning as I reread a letter I wrote to “Bruce” recently, I was again reminded of all for which I have to be thankful. My life going forward with him is a story of gratitude and faith, just as gratitude and faith brought him to me. We never know how long we will have someone in our lives, so give thanks for every moment you do have. When the first words you hear in the morning are “Have I told you yet today how much I love you?”, there can be no other choice but to smile and give thanks for all that you have, letting go of what you don’t have or wish you had…because there is nothing else to compare to the gift of love.

Part 1, Becoming Me: Hiding publicly

This post series may be a bit difficult for some of you to read…or stomach…or even believe. I’m even going to preface this series with a disclaimer: there is absolutely no disrespect, ill-will, or anything else intended to be deliberately disparaging in it towards my ex. He is happy now as am I, and I joyfully want that to continue. I will touch on some issues we had as a couple, and perhaps he (if he actually reads this), will accept this as an “exit interview” and take some of the observations in the spirit intended…as my own personal views and interpretations. No one else’s. Now on with the show…

 

Unless you’ve been under a virtual rock, or had a life, or are new to the blog, or [insert any one of a million valid reasons], then you’re aware that I am at a real crossroads in my life, and a very happy place that is to travel. When the ex and I officially separated in January 2014, it was a complete “non-event”: no wailing and howling or dish-throwing. True, tons of glares exchanged lines of sight, but that was about it. But I made a decision in an instant, that from that day forward I was going to be myself, own my feelings, be unapologetic for my beliefs, and do what made me happy. To some this may sound wholly selfish; for me, it was a matter of reclaiming myself.

 

One of the first things I started doing was writing again; it’s been one of the best decisions I could have made for me. I had an outlet for my creativity, in addition to the candle making, and it felt wonderful to put “fingers to keyboard” so to speak. This was more than a diary or a journal; this was a sharing of my soul at times…perhaps a bit exhibitionist one may believe, but let’s be honest, without that bit of narcissistic belief that someone other than ourselves is interested in what we have to say, there would be no books ever written. There is something that drives a writer to publicly commit their thoughts, ideas, dreams, fears to a public airing and open themselves to criticism. Perhaps we are gluttons for punishment and pain, as it is painful to hear/read that someone judges our heart’s blood to be…heaven forbid…drivel. After all, “it” meant enough to us to agonize over a single phrasing of a sentence for hours or days before releasing it for public consumption; how dare someone else proclaim it unworthy of a read much less a second thought? But, as surely as there is cream and sugar in my coffee, I will continue to write and put my thoughts out there for your review. No longer do I have a fear of rejection of this part of me, regardless of what views I express, when I sit down with the keyboard in my lap. The only agony connected to my writing now is in reigning myself in sufficiently to avoid using the real names of those characters who now write my life’s scripts. I love them all, and it is my choice to not bring their true identities into the telling of my tales.

 

Case in point. I’ve skirted around many of the details surrounding the relationship between “Bruce” and I, and will continue to do so; I may share some of our conversations, but more in the manner of sharing things we have learned or believe in the spirit of hoping that it may encourage someone else in their journey. For a bit, I was annoyed that “Bruce” didn’t want to make us “Facebook Official”, meaning, changing our respective statuses to read “In a relationship with…”. My old self-esteem immediately assumed he was hiding something, such as me or another girlfriend(s). I was ready to share my joy with anyone dumb enough to be in earshot or visual range as the case may be. But in his calm, unflappable manner, he took my face in both his hands for a sweet kiss, hugged me tight, then explained,

 

“I want this to be about us right now. No one else’s opinions or suggestions or comments. Just us. If something happens and we decide to back up the U-Haul*, people would feel the need to take sides, and I don’t think either of us want that.”

*backing up the U-Haul: our phrase for going our separate ways

 

We still comment and like each other’s posts on Facebook, but we don’t directly say we are dating each other. We have had a bit of fun with my status, changing it from “single” to “It’s complicated”, as in, he is a fan of American football, and me a fan of real football (a.k.a. soccer). Or complicated because he is “Bruce Wayne”…just plain silliness bourne out of my need to call him something. I’m sure we’ll make a quiet status change to real names before much longer, but for now, this has been a bit of fun.

 

I finally understood his need for privacy on social media was in a manner of speaking, a showing of respect and protection of “us”. We have since allowed a select group of friends in on our secret. They’ve been very respectful of our wishes. We’ve met each other’s family, visit with his folks regularly, hung out with our kids together, and even had our parents join us together for a relaxed dinner out while my dad was in town. I was very fortunate to have loved my ex’s parents while they were still alive, and I am equally fortunate to adore Bruce’s parents. Lovely, lovely people…as is apparently everyone related to Bruce. Amazing folks. But what I find so refreshing with Bruce is his attentiveness to me in the presence of our friends and family…yes, even in front of my lovingly intimidating and protective father! For me, this was missing from my marriage, and it’s partially my fault for not speaking up more clearly perhaps that I needed this: this public acknowledgement that yes, we are together, yes, there is a bond here, and yes, the man with me feels lovingly protective and proud of me enough to put his arm around me or give me a quick public kiss. Nothing mushy or sloppy or hugely demonstrative…just a quick “I love you and I’m glad to be with you.”

I had another “yes, this is going good places” moment this morning along those lines when we passed an elderly couple walking on the side of the road, holding hands. At the same moment, we both sighed and let out an “Awww”. I once told my ex upon seeing an exceptionally older couple, in their 80’s perhaps, out for a stroll holding hands, “That. That’s what I want.” He had no reply or comment at all at the time, but after our split, he brought up that moment, and said his heart dropped when I said that while watching the sweet pair walk along the water, hand in hand, heads bent together laughing over a shared memory perhaps. Might have been my hair standing on end though that amused them, who knows. He said almost sadly I think, that he just couldn’t do that. As I told Bruce this story, I confessed that the night of our first date, when I “accidentally” brushed his arm and he reached out to take my hand, that the accidental klutzy move was really a “test”. Had he pulled away, it would have been a deal breaker. Then and there. I will never spend my time investing in a relationship with someone who is afraid I might have cooties. I never expected him to actually reach out and take my hand and heart in his in that one split second, three hours into our first date, but he did.

 

He hasn’t let go yet, and it is the most amazing feeling.

 

Coming in Part 2, Becoming me: what is intimacy?

So what’s wrong with you again?

This is freakishly long…go get something to snack on.  It will still be here when you get back.

I haven’t spoken a great deal about my spondyloarthropathy, but someone new and very special to me in my life was asking “Bruce” what was “wrong” with me, and I thought this was a great time to talk a bit more about it. Don’t take offense with the wording; I’m so blessed to have this person in my life now, but they are new to being Facebook friends with me, and as such, is a bit behind on some of the conversations I’ve had over there about this over the years. I knew exactly what they meant though. Trust me, those with this disorder often ask the same of ourselves…”What IS wrong with me??” Seriously, it can be baffling and confusing to live in a body that can just bop along all happy if somewhat sluggish, then suddenly revolt and decide that excruciating pain and Tin Man impersonations are the order of the day.

The timing of the question was excellent, because thanks to the incoming storms/heavy rain, a friend and I were having a conversation yesterday about how some of us seem to do such a lovely job of predicting the weather more accurately than the local weather guys…when the bones, joints, or muscles start to tighten up when bad weather is coming. Some feel it is the damp, others believe (and science is just starting to back this one), that it is the drop in barometric pressure that triggers the discomfort. The pressure drop seems to get to me the most, and the heat was tough for me to handle before starting the Enbrel. Heat increases inflammation, and inflammation, unchecked, not only increases pain but puts you at greater risk for joint damage. Cold on the other hand, might make my muscles and tendons slower to warm up in the mornings and bit stiff at times during the day, but it is FAR easier on my body. Typically, a slow morning yoga sequence gets me on my way during the cooler months, but honestly, waking up exhausted is so…well…exhausting during the heat and humidity of our Virginia summers.

The sort of spondyloarthropathy the boys and I have (Undifferentiated spondyloarthropathy or USpA for short) affects the connective tissue and not the joints themselves (enthesitis are the points where the tendons and ligaments attach to the bones..this is where we’re affected). It explains why as a child, I would get horrific leg pains…it was the tendons pulling on the growth plates of the bones. Not every pain is “growing pains”, which even the docs said they didn’t think it was when I was a kid. Had them totally stumped. Even into my early 30’s, the rheumatologist said he could only call it a sero-negative arthritis (which means having arthritis without it showing up in the bloodwork), however, the doc I had at the time said flat out it couldn’t be spondyloarthropathy, as it only affected old men. Shame when the medical community doesn’t keep up with their own research; it would have saved me nearly 8 years of suffering and damage needlessly. We’ll skip the entire “how I was finally diagnosed story”, but suffice it to say, I love living in a city with one of the top teaching hospitals in the country!

Unfortunately almost all variations of spondyloarthropathy affect the spine. My lower back is toast, as is my neck, but here’s the thing. I can whinge and moan about it, or I can continue to be proactive and do everything I can to stay healthy and active. My rheumy credits my activity, especially yoga (which I am sorry to say I’ve neglected recently…) with keeping me so mobile, active and flexible. Yes, there is a chance that at any point in time the Enbrel will quit working its magic, and I’ll be left scrambling to find another medication that slows the progression, but in the meanwhile, I am going to do everything I can to take control over this, rather than it taking control over me.  I truly feel for those who are unable to get a handle on this disease medically due to circumstances beyond their immediate control (insurance issues or medical incompetency).

But perhaps I am most concerned for those who have the services and means at their disposal, but who are unable to mentally take charge of the situation. I’ve always been a “strong person” mentally, and at times that has admittedly been my downfall. But whenever I’ve been faced with a crisis, I tend to have a quick cry about it, time and urgency for action permitting, then, I dust myself off, and ask myself what I can do to take control back. Sometimes, having a slight issue with control pays off! I recently got a bit of news about the progression that occurred while I was off the Enbrel for a bit, that sent me briefly over the edge. It was a true relationship test that “Bruce” had to witness me having a pity party for about an hour, but as I’ve come to expect from him now, he was rock-steady, calming, and just asked me the same questions I knew I would have asked myself if he hadn’t beaten me to it:

1. What exactly did the doctor say?
2. What should you do now?
3. What can you control?
4. What is out of your control?
5. Then do it.

 

Honestly, how does he know me so well? It’s like we’re soul mates or something (although I know he’s really been placed here right now by God to take care of me and for me to take care of). So when I encounter others who are desperate for this disease to just go away, I have to wonder where their support system is and why they feel so alone and helpless. I try to do what I can to offer my support through our closed Facebook group (closed to protect their identity and our very frank conversations). I decided some time ago that I would not hide this journey with USpA in spite of the risk of discrimination or judgment. Instead, I knew I wanted to lend my ear, heart, and encouragement to others who may be struggling with challenges. You are never truly alone if someone is willing to listen.

But a word of caution is in order. If you are a care-giver/spouse/partner/friend of someone with a chronic illness, you have to set some boundaries with the person you care about. Take time out for yourself and your friends/interests too. Having sat both sides of the caregiver/receiver fence, I understand all too well that you can give until you crash and risk becoming resentful, or even falling ill yourself. Do not feel guilty about taking a break; think of it simply as recharging your batteries so you can be as effective as you possibly can be. “Bruce” has the most wonderful way of asking “What can I do to help your day end so you can relax?” We’ve both been at work, we’re both tired, but he knows that being a woman, I’m going to keep going after every little thing I see that wants doing until it’s done, or I keel over, whichever comes first. What might take me two hours at the end of the day, takes the pair of us about 30 minutes, tops. How cool is that?! So caregivers, ask, in novel ways as Bruce has, how you can help without making your partner feel dependent. That’s critical, as few people enjoy feeling helpless.

For the person on the receiving end of the help, I’ve got some advice for you as well. Don’t be a wet rag all the damn time. Yes, you are faced with challenges that perhaps your caregiver/partner will never quite understand, and perhaps you are living with obscene amounts of pain, but guess what? Everyone has a cross to bear. Practice being thankful and thanking your partner. You don’t have to literally say “Thank you” at every little thing they do, but a smile, a hand on the arm, a back scratch, giving up control of the remote, being okay with a less than Martha Stewart perfect house, appreciating efforts at cooking or cleaning up…these all let your partner know you appreciate what they do. Laugh. Once in a while, force yourself to do something you don’t feel like doing. Sure, you might be exhausted at the end, but you know what? Take an extra dose of meds before you go, take a nap before or after, but especially have a frank discussion about the possibility of needing to take breaks or even leave early. I honestly can’t tell you the number of times I’ve gone ahead and pushed myself, and then ended up having a blast. I have gotten more intuitive though about knowing when I really do need to back out of something, and I’ve also learned another very important lesson. Forgive myself for having to say no. I think though that since that doesn’t happen very often, my friends and family have gotten the message that if I do say no, it’s a rough day/week whatever, and that they just need to let me recoup a bit so I can be there for when I am needed as well. And here is another important tip in my opinion…think before you open your mouth. What is coming out? Is it constant complaints or do you temper the Grumpy Cat days with moments of positivity? If you’re more grouch than grinning, then force yourself to do/say something positive. It supposedly takes 21 days to form a new habit, but trust me, it doesn’t take long before you start to feel the benefits of a more positive outlook, and you will be less likely to drive your support system away. It is very stressful, confusing and scary to be a caregiver/partner to someone with a chronic illness; it is very easy to walk away.  It is extremely difficult to stay, so don’t for one moment take for granted those who do, and forgive those who try but have to leave in the end.  Not everyone is cut out for the task no more than everyone is capable of hiking the Himalayas….it takes a certain mindset, heart, and fortitude to do it. Yes, I completely understand that there may always be someone(s) in your life who just won’t get it. Decide if they are worth your energy to worry about. Think about it.

 

So I hope this has been a bit helpful, hopefully quite informative, and I wish you well with whatever you may be facing in your own life. Please don’t hesitate to share your thoughts here. No flame wars though…I don’t tolerate personal assaults on anyone, myself included. Ain’t nobody got time fo dat!

 

 

Sticking Around

Things that “stick around”…good friends for an extra cup of coffee or a beer, fans after an autograph, the smell of cabbage cooking…dog farts….  “Sticking around” implies there’s something else the “sticker” could be doing, but chooses otherwise.  Perhaps, they just enjoy what they’re doing, and are loathe to change the activity.  Maybe, the sticker is just a touch on the lazy side and can’t be bothered to do something different that would require effort to change direction.  Now, cabbage and dog farts don’t exactly have a choice in whether to stick around or not, but to a certain extent, their pungence causes them to hang about…a mixture of chemistry and olfactory memories combining to keep them around longer than either necessary or desired.  A good squirt of air freshener or a strong fan will generally help them along their way however. Usually.  Unless it’s St. Patrick’s Day, and I’ve got the crock pot filled to the brim with corned beef and cabbage….or if one of the boys has fed the pug beans.  That’s bad news there. 

But what about people in your life who stick around…in spite of something weird, negative or scary… Have you ever questioned their motivation? You throw work drama at them.  They pour a couple cups of coffee, pull up a chair, and say, “Tell me more.”  You decide to sulk over an unsolicited text they get…they didn’t invite or ask for it, but you decide to act like an ass about it…just because.  They just hug you, and show you that there is no conversation to this text, and that it is all one-sided.  You know they’re right; you just had a moment of acting self-centered and about 5 years old.  They still keep hugging, texting and calling you though, even though the tantrum probably deserved a dose of the silent treatment.  Some folks, and let’s be honest, we’re talking about partners/boyfriends/girlfriends/spouses and even family members here, would walk pretty quickly away from these little life dramas.  Face it, in the grand scheme of things, these really are petty issues, and typically don’t deserve a huge amount of energy to get through.  

Then life throws you a curve ball.  A big ol’ smack upside the head, reality check, heart stopping, make you want to barf continually moment.  You can’t catch your breath as you try to process what is happening.  Then an even darker feeling creeps into the edges of your reality…you’re in a pretty new relationship…how do you share this with your partner and not expect them to pack up the U-Haul?  Now let’s think about this rationally for a moment…would it really be fair to share this life-moment with a new partner?  You’re barely out of the burping in front of each other stage, although you’ve shared a great deal of your history, but seriously?  You expect them to be there for this?  “THIS” is heavy stuff…it can make or break marriages, so it really might be more kind to just quietly break this off with them now, and spare them the process.  True, they might be confused and hurt at the rejection, but then you wouldn’t feel the guilt of the alternative….

…the alternative, is to tell them, and then hold your breath, waiting for them to leave.  But they don’t.  You start to wonder, if they are sticking around only not to seem heartless: that once the event is past, they will be the ones to quietly bow out before anything else can crop up.  You wouldn’t blame them, although you would be hurt, but who wants to wade willingly into a crisis, make it through, then hang around to see if something else happens again.  That might even be the definition of a sadist come to think of it…..

Or….your partner, after you tell them, sits silently for a moment, then tells you (forgive the changing voice…) “WE will get the facts, then WE will get the plan, then WE will follow through with it.  WE will get through it.”

It then becomes clear to you that it is the truly extraordinary hearts that are capable of such “Stick to it-iveness”.  The only guilt that you should be feeling is in ever doubting that they would be there in the first place.  You know that you too, would be there for them were the tables turned, and that is what makes the relationship have longevity potential.  Something else may come along in time to send you each down separate roads, but for right now, this…this challenge will only cause you to stick even closer together.  

Meet My “BFF”…

So, a few posts back, I mentioned the conundrum of what to call someone you are dating seriously when you’re beyond the teen years.  When you’re young, and I mean, “ink is barely dry on the driver’s license” young, you refer to each other as “boyfriend and girlfriend”.  It’s cute…he’s a boy; you’re a girl, and you’re friends as a somewhat exclusive unit.  Ergo, “This is my boyfriend.”  This nomenclature remains as we age I suppose; I was married during the “boyfriend” stage and didn’t divorce until 47.  So I skipped that entire awkward period of trying to figure out what to call someone I was dating during my more mature (and we use that term loosely) years.

 

When I found myself easing back into the waters, I was “just dating”.  Men I had coffee with were “dates”.  That makes sense, as a coffee date is what we had.  Nothing more complicated or committed than that.  So there was no need to classify or explain the event.  Coffee date.  Most of us have coffee dates, so there is no hint of a relationship.  However, my coffee date with “Bruce Wayne” (go back and catch up if you are wondering…) progressed to dinner right after coffee, on the same night, so this one looked to having naming potential.

 

And it was…around family and close friends who know we are together, there is no need to slap a label on what we are.  We’re…well…together and supported by our inner circle.  And that is a lovely feeling.  We don’t need to explain ourselves to this group; they know we’re treading carefully yet joyfully having both had long first marriages.  But since we are moving out and about all over the city more and more frequently now as a couple, we are starting to run into people we know.  Rather than just strike up a conversation and fail to bring the other into it, we’re pretty well-trained to make introductions (good “home training” I like to say).  Here is where it gets a trifle “odd”…it feels a touch weird to refer to the man or woman you’re with as your “boyfriend/girlfriend”, when said person has gray hair and grandchildren.  “This is my friend, Sally,” sounds too impersonal, as if you’ve just started bumping into people you know while running errands and want to make sure everyone can follow who is who.  You aren’t engaged, so fiancé isn’t appropriate.  “My BFF” doesn’t quite cut it.  “My date” isn’t exactly right when you run into people you know in the Walgreens…or else it might lead people to jump to conclusions about why you and your “date” are in a Walgreens in the first place.

 

So, what exactly “is” this called?  I suppose one could, depending on your personalities, start interjecting some humor into the labeling.  “I’d like you to meet the woman who gives great back scratches but can’t find her clip on sunglasses twice in a row,” or “Betty, meet the man I’m seeing who stuffs his pocket like a squirrel.”  You know, just to distinguish this person from anyone you might have seen us with, date or not, in the past.

 

Personally, I’ve taken to introducing “Bruce” by “I’d like you to meet ‘Bruce’,” and then I leave it at that.  Let’s be honest, regardless of how you introduce the new person in your life, people will make their own conclusions, or not, based on their level of interest in your life.  If they are really interested, they’ll ask you something personal such as how long you’ve been dating.  If they don’t care, they’ll just move on with their conversation or life, as it should be.  In the end though, it’s only what the pair of you call each other when you’re together that matters, isn’t it?

 

So let’s weigh in here.  Leave a comment with how you and your other half/partner/BFF have handled this socially awkward situation.

Rain and Rebirth: Originally drafted June 5, 2014 at 6:51am

Again, found another post I had not published.  This one also dates back to the first week of June, what was so obviously a turning point week in my life.  Strong and deep, without bashing you over the head with what’s on my mind.  If you know me, or have been following along to this point, draw your own conclusions.  Heck, interpret this how you will anyway!

June 5, 2014

Sometimes standing in the rain is required. Or at least, standing under shelter in the rain. Conducive to writing with a depth of emotion I haven’t felt in years. Enjoy ( or skip… Your call)Thunder is rolling in. Best sleeping weather in the world. Yet here I stand on the deck. Fresh smells, cool water in drips on your skin. Refreshing and cleansing for body and soul. Even the night-time creatures are quiet as if they sense a washing away and purging of the day’s heat.Pause again, face upturned, and just breathe. I am alone out here, but not lonely. I am blanketed by darkness, but not in the dark. I feel small, but not helpless. The rumbles grow louder and bright streaks flicker slowly at first, then more urgently, glimpsed through full shadows of leaves.
Normally the storms bring pain to my body. Tonight, I don’t feel it though I know it’s there. I pause. Rain begins to flow over my shoulders and down my back and chest in thin rivers, washing away the day’s troubles and doubts. I feel reborn with each chilling trickle.

I know for certain there is a Power greater than myself leading me if I am wise enough to follow. It is known by many names, but for me tonight, this Power has no name, only a sense of strength and comfort.

The thunder rolls in, more insistent that I listen, yet more gentle in its chiding. “Change is coming,” it whispers, then startling me, it booms an aftershock that startles me back from my mediation.
“This change will be a challenge! Are you afraid to face this? Can you stand there, as strong as you think you are, and take what comes next? Or will you retreat, cowering for someone to rescue you?” The thunder shouts at me to listen.

I draw a deep breath. Wait. Observe my heart pound. Exhale. Rain pours around and on me now. What is my answer?

My response comes slowly, with conviction:

If the rain continues to fall as if to drown me out, I am ready to fight it.

If the rain softens to a caress again, I will accept it with love.

I bid the night and its energy Namaste, then walk to the door, confident I am where I need to be, even if I am unsure where I am.

 

A Time for Knowing: Drafted June 5, 2014 at 7:22am

I thought I had published this one…apparently not.  It dates back to early June, nearly 6 weeks ago.  It still is very much a description of me, perhaps even more so than ever.  I challenged “Bruce Wayne” earlier this week with the prospect of being in a relationship with a writer..that we just aren’t “normal”.  Everything that happens to us impacts us, but we’ve got to learn to get it in check to avoid hurting those around us who perhaps didn’t sign on to be part of our story, while still remaining true to our hearts and needs.  He simply responded that it is part of who I am, and that it is part of what attracts him to me.  Crazy person….I’m dating a crazy person…and loving every minute of it. Enjoy!

June 5, 2014

This is me, as naked and laid bare as it gets for a writer; I am sharing a work in progress.  It will change; it will morph, but I’m laying this out there to share a process.  I am strong enough in my feelings to allow you to watch.  I know that only those who know me best, will understand how I can share a process like this.  I know my fellow artists/writers may question my sanity.  I need to do this. 

 

 

I didn’t sleep a great deal last night following a brief, yet intense storm. It wasn’t a violent storm, but it had moments of demanding thunder, brilliant lightning, and steady purifying rain. The episode moved me to write an intensely personal piece. As someone who must write as surely as I must breathe, this unleashes an almost palpable pain.  Years of not writing interrupted by a torrential flow of thoughts and emotions is as excruciating a release as cramped muscles screaming in painful protest after sitting in hard-backed chair for too long: it was necessary to do to accomplish a task, but the end of that torture is exquisite.

 

As I write again, I am quietly aware of a flood of emotions, all competing for attention.  Which will I acknowledge; which will I ask to wait patiently? Which is certain to be ignored, if only for a little while?  Joy, sorrow, faith, doubt, trust, jealousy, love, apathy…these all jostle for time in my mind and heart. There is no better way to describe these qualities than yin-yang.  In the Chinese culture, yin-yang refers to two complementary forces: not precisely opposites, but complements.  There is no darkness without light; these forces all must co-exist, in order to exist. The yang, or “sunny” of these if you will,  can leave me breathless with their intensity; I crave them more as I experience them in their various forms. The yin, “shady” complement of these, at times leave me confused.  I want the yang of life! Why should I have to accept the yin as well?

 

In order to appreciate the sun, it is necessary to also know the night.

 

It strikes me that I may not be quite as simple a person as I thought. True, you don’t get much plainer than “let’s cook at home/take a walk/paint a wall/read a book/play in the rain/go to the thrift store”, but it will take someone truly gifted, and even more patient than I am, I think, to accept my need to express my thoughts and observations.  Right now, they are raw and reflecting where I have been; a river overflowing its banks after a storm.  It will subside, but who will flee, afraid of the power and intensity?  What remains to be seen, is who will stay, confident with the wisdom that the excess water will return to its source, once again flowing on its gentle path.  The river is beautiful in its grace, giving life, supporting life, bending around obstacles to continue on its journey. I hope that I too, will return to my banks, more gentle yet fuller, than I was only months ago.  I’ll overflow my banks again in time, of that I’m certain.  But I hope that this time, there will be someone along to patiently wait out the fury as I grow.

Love No Matter….

Welcome to this beautiful Monday morning!  The air is crisp: not exactly chilly, but a nice reprieve from all the rain and scorching heat we’ve had recently.  I had an amazing weekend that still is carrying over into today and tomorrow.  Any chance to spend this much time getting to know the new man in my life makes me quite grateful that I have this opportunity for a long summer break.  There.  I said it.  I’m a teacher, and I love my summer break!  So sue me.

Morning meditation was a bust…I couldn’t focus. The cats kept creeping under me and into my lap.  The dog kept laying on the mat and putting her head on my knee and nudging my hand.  My thoughts kept creeping back to the trials my daughter is experiencing in her life. I’d then get annoyed because I wanted to reflect on the church service I had attended with my sister and her family yesterday as they prepare for a two week missions trip to Lima (yes, I went to church…remember, I don’t NOT believe, I just believe differently).  I wanted to reflect on where my relationship is currently with “Bruce”  (it’s just occurred to me that I have a topic for another post…what do you call someone you’re dating when you both pushing 50?). Nothing I wanted to accomplish, was happening on the mat this morning.  Even when I gave up on the meditation and just went to trying sun salutations, the dog crept in between my legs while trying to move into Warrior….the cats immediately moved onto my pillow and behind my feet.  Unless I wanted to end up on my rear end, I figured I had just give it a rest this morning and move on.  See proof of my troubles this morning….

Grumped my way back into the house to fix coffee and grab the laptop to have a good whine about it on Facebook.  But while I was waiting for the morning dopamine delivery to be ready, I scrolled through my timeline, and ran across the poster above. I’ve seen it many times before and appreciated the message, but for some reason, something clicked this time.

“Some people won’t love you no matter what you do…”

I reflected on someone close to me.  It seems that as fortunate as I have been in relationships (yes, even the ups and downs of 29 years of marriage to one man), my beautiful friend has had the opposite experience.  She is in a relationship now that is so toxic emotionally I’m afraid, that I find it painful to witness.  I have really tried to support her, counsel her, guide her, listen  to her, but it becomes more and more difficult as time grows on.  I know I cannot force her to listen to reason, but as a friend, it is heartbreaking to watch her trudge through life, one depressing event after another.  She claims over and over that she loves her partner, that she couldn’t live without him.  Then in the next breath, is hysterically screaming that he is constantly putting her down and telling her she is no good…telling her that no one but him will ever love her.  As her friend, trust me, it is painful to hear those words and not physically respond to them.  But I’m fairly certain I wouldn’t do well in jail, so….

I can reflect as well on my own marriage breakdown, and how different it has been to my friend’s experience.  I was unable to “make” my ex love me, and it took a very long time for me to understand that.  It took even longer for me to understand fully that it wasn’t his fault, nor was it mine. We created a beautiful family together, and that was what we were destined to do.  No amount of changing or therapy or pretending was going to change the fact that over the course of our marriage, we both grew into more confident adults who knew better what they needed in life and were smart enough (and compassionate enough) to admit we couldn’t provide that for the other. So now we stay friends, and that is the best way it should be.

“…and some people won’t stop loving you no matter what you do.”

Which brings me here.  I really don’t think there is much to say about this.  Reflect on all those in your life, past/present, family/friends who are always there for you (sometimes with bail money), who will tell you off in a heartbeat, then offer to kick the crap out of whoever has upset you.  These are the people we all need in our lives; people who will build you up, hold you up, and love you, even when you are busy being the biggest dumb ass you can possibly be.

“Go where the love is!”

…and when you get a text that you need to come snuggle, that’s exactly where you go….

Namaste om shanti

K

Oxytocin vs Dopamine: A Tale of Two Loves

This post has been trying to hit the page since Monday night, but its timeliness hit me with such force I had to catch my breath first.  I subscribe to a few yoga, Buddhism, and “New Age” sorts of blogs, and there is one that always seems to have something spiritual crossed with science.  Being a bit of a geek, but a free-spirit at the same time…well, I really enjoy this one. The topic of the webinar was “Love, Sex, and Yoga”.  Ok, you’ve got my attention.

 

Here is a link to the webinar in case you’re interested.  http://lifespa.com/webinar-love-sex-yoga/?inf_contact_key=c13677e407f8f769ebf0e1b57031f5b06eb06ceba82a5f61f88a7fc32bb99c06

 

If you aren’t into Ayurveda or yoga, some of the terms will seem quite hysterical or just plain bizarre, but that’s okay; I’ll try to sum up some of what I heard/learned in more simple terms as we work through this. Ready? You’ll have to endure the backstory first; bear with me. This is some deep shiznit….

 

If you’ve been keeping up with the rekindling of this blog/my journey, you are aware that I am now technically still separated, but right at the edge of finalizing my divorce from my husband of 29 years.  Loads of reasons, some will be implied, but I’ll try very hard to refrain from placing blame either side, as truly, it rarely ever is one-sided.  The marriage ended, for me, emotionally, about 5 years ago with a major event on his part.  I absolutely hit rock bottom then, and I spent the next 8 or 9 months in therapy to figure out why and how to fix it.  But instead of learning how to repair a broken relationship with my spouse, I learned a far more valuable lesson: how to fix the relationship with myself.  I cried more than I’ve ever cried, was angrier, more indecisive, more disappointed, more every negative emotion you can come up with…then I started to take the therapy sessions to heart and really listened.  I did hear him challenge me to answer honestly, but I finally listened to what he wanted me to know.  Mainly, that this marriage was probably over, but that if I was ever going to have a snowball’s chance in Hades of having a healthy relationship in the future, I had to get honest with myself…I had to acknowledge every shitty thing that happened in the marriage as it came to my mind, ask myself what my role was in it, decide how to not do that again, then let it go and move on.  Oh yeah, and while I was at it, wake up every morning and do two things:

 

1. Forgive myself and my ex and,

2. Make a checklist of who I am, what I need to be happy, and what that would look like.

 

Shit, he didn’t want much from me, did he?

 

But I did…over the next few years I started working on my own version of these, as well as a flow chart of progression of a relationship.  My therapist shook his head and laughed out loud with me at the daughter-of-an-engineer’s approach, but he let me own it.  Goes a bit like this:

 

• Like: You like someone or something, but you could take it or leave it.  It/they don’t typically cross your mind unless you put direct effort into it.
• Want: You are interested in something/someone, would like to have/experience it, but you don’t require it in order to live. Bit of fun. Nice to experience, but not on the Bucket List.
• Need: Now we’re getting deeper.  The choices of needs are fewer, and you are more selective.  Without it, life would be more challenging or unpleasant.  You think about it often and create goals in order to achieve it. You cannot see yourself as complete without it.
• Love: Absolutely must have/do/be with.  A choice to the exclusion of all others (isn’t that the most Unromantic B.S. you’ve ever read in your life?  Yeah…it really was).  Not certain you can breathe without it.

 

As I type these words even now, I’m laughing at myself…how I thought of these.  I still think somewhat in terms of this progression, but I experience it so differently now.  At the time though, I also worked on what it might look like to fall in love again.  I thought he (therapist) was an ass for making me work through this too, but I did it anyway.  I won’t share that partly because it has evolved the most, yet started off the most concrete of the checklists.  I just knew I would be in love if I could check X percentage of items on this list.  As I worked through this list of “me”, I began to realize what he was trying to get me to do: admit to myself what I really wanted in life, from a partner, what I needed in order to be happy and content…and ready for this?

 

…to accept who I am, for what I am, make no apologies for it, be content that I am enough, and to just be satisfied knowing who I am. Celebrate THAT, experience THAT, share THAT, and in time, someone will recognize it in me, and fall in love with the real me.  But if I didn’t love me first, then it was foolish to expect anything but the same shit results again.  Powerful stuff…about like being smacked in the face with Truth.  Painful.  Enlightening. Liberating. You name it.  I felt it.

 

Some of the things that became even more apparent to me as I stuck a toe back into the dating pool helped me clarify even more what I needed in a relationship.  I have found myself returning more and more to my southern roots and being more proud and comfortable with them.  I truly am a very simple person, needing very little to make me happy and content.  Give me a bit of dirt to dig in, good friends, a faithful dog, the room to grow spiritually in my own way, a fluffy down quilt, a cold Belgian wheat beer and someone to share them with….

 

So that “someone to share them with” bit…as I started meeting up with guys for coffee dates, it became clear that some were looking for fun (that’s cool), some were looking for a replacement for the spouse they no longer had (hummm…replacement, sounds like a recall), or just someone to roll in the sack with (MAYDAY!!!)  And for a couple, I just didn’t click for them, and that was okay too.  No harm, no foul right?  But here is where I seriously took another look at dating…what role did I see sex playing in this new chapter?  I had to sit back and really re-examine this new “concept” for me.  I mean, seriously, I had been completely monogamous throughout the entire marriage.  Completely.  Heart and soul.  It was that important to me, and I took those marriage vows seriously.

 

Here is what I knew in my heart based on now knowing myself; I didn’t want to give myself so completely to someone again without there being a connection of the heart.  Connection in spirit.  I needed to bond with someone, care about them, want to care for them, and have them not be “in it to win it” so to speak.  I believe I have a gift to give someone, the gift of me, my heart and spirit, and I was not willing to just toss those parts of me out the window for a cheap thrill.  But how was I going to tell the difference between a deeper connection, love, and its yin: lust?  I figured I would pull out the handy-dandy checklist and start mentally keeping score.  It helped to be honest.  I could remind myself that while, heck yeah the guy on the other side of the table was easy on the eyes or saying all the right things, there wasn’t that real want to know more.  Things didn’t go from “like” to “want”, and I am thankful.

 

I continued to share on Facebook my journey to rediscovering myself, my fears when I had a health scare, things that made me laugh, the massive weight loss on what I affectionately call the “Happy Diet”.  Life was good.

 

Then out of the blue.  I got a private message.  On Facebook.  From a former high school alum.  My life got flipped.  This guy reached out with such a simple, from the heart honest message: he had spoken to my sister in church, and had mentioned how much he enjoyed reading my posts, that he admired my attitude, that I was fast becoming a favorite of his to read.  Oh, cool.  I said thank you, and let it stay at that.

 

A week later, I had been having a bit of an “off” kind of day for a multitude of reasons…none really worth getting excited about. I looked for a positive to pull me out of the funk, and there was the earlier conversation. I had not deleted it for some reason so I replied back that I had a bit of a down day, and had read his note to give me a boost, and thanked him for it.  Shoot, if someone makes you smile, and they don’t know, I figure they ought to know they’ve done something good, right?  He replied back quickly, and the rest as they say, is history.  We’ll skip all the in between chatter that led to the first date, but that first date went from first coffee to first dinner to first kiss over the course of an afternoon and evening.  Whoa.  Pull back and regroup.

 

I’m going to fast-forward again a bit, to the main topic of this post.  Perhaps in time, I’ll share more of the getting to know you stage if you think it may help you connect with someone, but for now, that’s all ours. So when do you know, I mean really know in this ultra-jacked up fast-paced society, that sex should become part of your dating ritual?  Conundrum…I mean, here was this absolutely amazing guy, treating me like a princess/lady, respecting all the boundaries I was throwing out there, but at the same time, eliciting a response from me I didn’t think was possible…or at least, I had told myself wasn’t possible.  How the heck did he do that?

 

We had a very frank discussion about sex beyond the “can you get pregnant” and “are you clean” (we have spent a lot of time sharing our histories…no judgment implied).  I ventured into my thoughts on sex, that I believed for me, sex needed to be the ultimate expression of my caring, bonding, and giving of myself to someone.  That while it may physically feel really good, and some would argue that sex is a basic animal urge (which I don’t disagree with in principle) that I had to know that this was not a one-nighter.  I wasn’t asking for a ring and a promise of the altar in exchange for all of me, but rather a knowledge that giving myself would be met with the respect and understanding of the commitment from me that it would mean.

 

If he was going to run for the hills, this was certainly the time to do it…no call came from a “friend” to rescue him from a flat tire at an awkward moment…no sudden need to write a report or head to the gym.  There was simply, understanding.  He understood, and said it might be tough, since he is a guy and all that (said with this whole face smile he does so well…lights up a room…seriously), but that he completely understood and would respect my needs.  So here it was, I had laid out bare my thoughts on needing to bond, connect, touch, laugh, share, be with this man, and he was still texting and calling throughout the day.  There was, and still is, a somewhat animal urge that creeps up on me at times…I love to bury my face in his chest and just breathe him in… He said perhaps the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard when he hugged me in the kitchen.  He put his chin on top of my head and said, “I love how you just fit perfectly here.”  Nearly melted, died on the spot.  I mean honestly.  This guy has a quirky obsession with Star Trek, loves all things sci-fy, yet is as big a gentleman and romantic as they come.  Awwww…

 

So are we in fact, in love?  That’s an excellent question.  I know that if I should wake up tomorrow to his voice telling me that it was time to continue our journeys apart, I would be terribly sad for a bit, but would genuinely wish him well and be grateful for the amazing memories, as well as a fantastic time spent reaffirming that I am worth someone’s attention and affection.  He made me believe by being so freely giving of himself, that I deserve to be pampered and that all roads do not in fact, lead to instant gratification and sex.  He will always hold a special place in my heart for that.  So, I would say that we love each other as we would any other fellow human we care about. But as for having reached the level of love that is reserved for the person who completes you, then no, we aren’t there. If that love comes, it will come when it is ready, and when we are both ready.

 

So where do the oxytocin and dopamine mentioned in the webinar come into play?  Where was I going with all of this in the first place? Briefly, the webinar explained that the body releases oxytocin, the bonding hormone, when the mind and body enter into bonding sorts of activities: actively being kind (specific acts), holding a newborn baby, touching, remembering pleasant events…in short, being kind and available emotionally releases this hormone (which incidentally, our physiology appears to be happy with, regardless of the frequency or duration).  Oxytocin appears to be the hormone we need to take a relationship to the next level.  Now here is the part that stopped me in my tracks.  The speaker said that relationships that start off with sex as a primary focus of the relationship, we in fact tying the act of sex to acceptance.  Sex, releases dopamine, the “addiction” hormone if you will.  It is the feel-good, gotta have more hormone released with thrill seeking, high energy behaviors. When we go straight to sex, we often are looking for that instant high; if we do that as a first response, we are essentially dopamine junkies.  The more we release dopamine, the more of it our bodies require to still get that same sensation, that rush.  It’s why thrill junkies often do more and more dangerous shit until it kills them: they’re hooked. Oh, and awful news of the day…coffee causes us to release trace amounts of dopamine.  Oops….

 

The speaker went on to say that many of us will have those moments or periods in our life where the instant thrill or satisfaction from sexual release is all we want, but that to make a habit of it, makes it hard to retrain the heart and brain that bonding is the ultimate goal; the sex will come as an expression of having bonded so completely with someone that you need to give yourself completely to them, without expecting anything in return, yet knowing that your heart will be returned.

 

How is that for a big ol’ punch in the gut?  The speaker went on to say, that a new relationship that may have started off with early sex, recognized that there may be more to it, still had time to pull back, regroup, and start fresh with oxytocin activities.  Making those the priority would lead to more bonding and develop a need for the bonding…bonding (not “bondage”…get your mind out of the gutter…) is what carries you through life’s ups and downs.  It allows you to trust and love and disagree and forgive without any reservation.  But also of importance, it would allow you to part as friends if that is the path that ultimately proved to be necessary; you would have developed a relationship based on trust and understanding that each is their own person who would be loved and respected for that, not to be molded into what you think you need or want. Go watch the webinar for yourself if you like; understand that he is speaking from an Ayurvedic wisdom and practice and listen for the deeper message and information.

 

So, as I reflect on this post, which has now taken several days to write, I can smile as I think about all the oxytocin I must have bopping around in my brain right now…gardening, cooking, snoozing, spooning and snoozing, relaxing, laughing, smiling….

 

I don’t know about you, but an oxytocin addiction seems like a great one to have….