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On the Verge…

Security. It’s always looked upon as desirable:  a secure job, a secure home, a secure future, a secure investment.  The list is endless of the secure things or situations we desire. Why? While the answers to that question are myriad, for me, and for many others: security implies continuity, safety, protection from outside forces, longevity, and so many other things that make us feel less vulnerable and protected.  In this, however, is the myth of permanence. Of landing the perfect job, that we keep until our golden years, retiring with a gold watch, and then spending the rest of our lives in bliss. Or of the ideal marriage, to the man or woman of your dreams, to grow with each other, more in love each year. And how often does this happen?  In my experience, often enough to keep the dream alive for so many. And that’s not a bad thing; an ideal that gives hope, gives love, and a sound future, but one that also takes work, heartache, pain, and sometimes the wisdom to realize the current situation is not working for anyone involved, and it might be better to part company. But, if we go back to our original statement, security in anything is a myth, a fable used by us, and against us, to convince ourselves that this time, this person IS the answer to our prayers.  But no job is forever. Marriages that seem Heaven-blessed crumble and fall apart. Blue-chip companies fold. Real estate values fluctuate like a weather-vane.  And why does any of this matter? Because, when ‘security’ does not work out for us in whatever way, we begin to try and reconstruct the paradigm of what kept us happy for so long. As we begin to do so, the task gets muddy, difficult to define, and stymies us as to what we need to do to approximate a similar situation. And…. It. Doesn’t. Work.  And it doesn’t work because it never really existed anyway; it was just a means to justify how we were living at the time, as in “Golden Handcuffs,” to coin a phrase. My own case in point: a job I held twice (yes, once was not enough) ended with a massive layoff, a comfy severance, outplacement service, and a ‘sorry, but good luck’ from my then-boss. Not an easy breakfast to digest, but but the end of the day, it realized I didn’t have to do that stupid job again, nor would I ever need to converse with the micromanaging egotist that delivered the message.  But, five months later, as severance was coming to an end, and offers were beginning to come, I went for prestige of company, location, and salary, all reproducing, and one-upping, my previous situation. And the result: less time for personal projects, less time with my family, more time in New York, and far, far less autonomy in deciding how my day would be spent at work. This lasted nine months, the human gestation period, before I moved on to a much better, but very different, position that challenged me, made me whine and complain that I didn’t have this or didn’t have that, all the while trying to ignore that I was happy when I was actually at work, with a great team of people, and the bills were being paid, and I was okay.  Until one day I sat back and really saw where I was, what I was doing, and that this was allowing me…no, challenging me, to begin to really change in how I led my life that would bring the true, deep satisfaction of what I as doing being enough. And no. I’m not quite there yet, but with the knowledge that what I am doing is the thing I need to do to reach the next level, the next step, of my life, I am creating new ways of using this experience to teach me as much as possible, before the next logical step presents itself….

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Losing…and Winning

I recently received notice that one of my spouse’s aunts had passed away, accompanied by information on the upcoming celebration of life to say goodbye and to compare stories with other family members and friends. While not unexpected at her age, I was sad to know that we wouldn’t get that occasional call that started, ‘Hey, this is Aunt Jo….’  As well, I would miss the invariable fun and entertaining conversation that followed. She was the one who welcomed me to the family so many years ago, telling me about my husband’s now-deceased father, whom I never met, of her sister and his courtship, marriage, foray into parenting, and so forth. Not to mention hilarious, but far-less-flattering stories about the entire family I was to become part of, and learn to love as my own. I would later learn from my husband of her earlier life, right in the heart of the Washington political scene for so many years: of skirmishes with the left and right, as well as personal triumphs over some of her not-so-favorite political figures, all while having as good a time living life to its fullest, as only she could.

While it left me sad for a while, it also brought back so many memories, not just of my time with her, but with my own family. Memories of my grandmothers, and my grandfather, of great aunts and uncles, who were so close to us they were almost parent-figures at times, of the times at the beach house where dinner was so truly a collaborative event that the phrase, ‘too many cooks in the kitchen’ was made irrelevant. The holidays we made the trek to their house, or them to ours, to be with extended family during the Christmas holiday, and celebrate, not only the holiday, but also our time together. As this flood of personal memories went through my mind, of Aunt Jo and of my own now-gone family members and friends, I realized what memories do for us: they keep the spirit of these people alive and well, and make them a still-vital part of our lives. No, we may not be sharing a glass of wine together, or making cookies, but they are still with us. Guiding, directing, and helping us remember who we are, and where we are going, or where we want to go. And so importantly, helping us remember that failures are not the end. Failure is only the dead end of one way to do something, and it’s now your challenge to find the best way that works for you personally.

As the thoughts above went through my mind, I thought about my own journey through life, and how each of these people, as well as others now no longer with us, gave us some insight into navigating life and the world as we know it. From them, I learned perseverance, of how to keep getting up when I’ve been knocked down, to treat everyone—EVERYONE—with respect, and that showing love is the best way to go through life, even if, maybe especially when, it is not returned.

So I celebrate all those I have known for the love they showed me by being a part of my life, and left me with the legacy of doing the same.

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Self-Deception




    Like many things in life, it starts quite small, almost imperceptible, and if continued, grows disproportionately large, to the point it begins to take over.  And while there are many things that fall in this category—babies, business startups, plants—this one is very stealthy, and can go unnoticed for a long time: self-deception.  It starts with small justifications like, ‘it won’t matter this one time,’ ‘I just don’t want to hurt anyone,’ ‘this is too embarrassing for people to know,’ ‘no one needs to know about this.’  Whatever the situation, dire or insignificant, the little lies—yes, that’s what they are—add up and start a cycle that can begin to supplant the real story. From little things in my life, like adding an inch to my height on my driver’s license so long ago I’d forgotten that I’d done it, until recently being measured in my doctor’s office as part of the initial examination.  And does this matter? No. Not really. Given that I’m not a particularly tall person to begin with, that little inch was for me to make myself feel taller in a world where, at least at one point, I felt surrounded by giants. Or procrastinating on projects that leave me knowing I would have enjoyed them more had I not waited until the last minute to complete them, denying myself the opportunity to more fully absorb what I was doing, as well as to better learn something new.  These were personal instances, not involving others for the most part. But they also made it easier to do the next time, justifying something for which I’d not taken full responsibility, and potentially affecting others. And again, why does this matter? It matters, to me, and others I know, because it’s not transparent, and shows me in a light that is not honest, which brings me to the crux of this: in these days of ‘fake news,’ of perjury-as-sport, of pathological lying, of hiding crimes and misdemeanors behind money or fame or reputation, only the truth can see us through.  Trust is an enormous privilege, and to trust someone, or to be trusted by others, is a privilege earned only through telling the truth, even when, and perhaps, especially when it is a painful truth. But that trust begins with living honestly, and truly being who and what you are. And demanding that those around you do the same. While we can’t ‘make’ someone tell the truth about themselves and their lives, we can set an example. Not by being a holier-than-thou judge of people around us, but by showing all sides of who we are, the unattractive parts as well as those we want the world to see.  And most of all, by being honest with ourselves, striving to be better in those areas we feel need improving, learning new things, trying new things, and learning to laugh at ourselves when we fail, seeing it as a chance to ‘try our wings’ at something that could help us all.

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Healing is a Choice

Every morning I journal for about fifteen minutes, filling three legal pad pages with my thoughts, hopes, dreams, complaints, and ideas.  It started about twenty-five years ago with Julia Cameron’s book The Artist’s Way, which was the the only text ‘assigned’ in a class I was taking to learn how to be more open with how I lived my life, and who I was. Those last two would take a lot of time, way beyond that class and those people, but eventually I began to live the way I thought and felt.  That aside, deciding to take action in the form of a class, as well as committing to developing a habit of writing every day, was the first time I really said to myself that ‘things’ were not working with what was in place, so it was time to replace the current behaviors with those that might put me closer to where I wanted to be.  Wherever that was…. While I would eventually figure where and what ‘that’ was, taking action was the key to so many new worlds.

That action, the first I’d taken since college graduation, insofar as helping myself was concerned, was the key. I began to meet new people, people more aligned with how I was thinking, of thinking many of the same things, or at least in the same way I was, and it was exhilarating. People who were a part of my being stuck began to drift away, which was alarming at first, but then I saw that we were helping each other stay ‘stuck’ and that when one of us began to make changes to go in different directions, the reasons we were together started to fray and eventually we went our separate ways. Which was good. New starts, taking action, and deciding what you really want, and are willing to work for, perhaps only for now, are one of the paths to realizing the life you’ve dreamed.  And sometimes, it is very different from the one you thought was your goal in the past.

Two years ago, I was laid off from a ‘Golden Handcuffs’ job, and promptly sought to recreate it. And I did, in a way, and the new one was worse, in different ways, and so I moved on, taking a step back in both position and compensation, to give myself time to clear my head, to read and write, and to discern the direction I needed to take in my life.  Each little intentional action I took during this period led to new knowledge and the realization that what I was doing now was preparing me to go in the direction I have always wanted to go, but didn’t know how. The means to another end. And the bonus is that each decision I make, whether the goal pans out or not, is leading me closer. I step forward, and learn things I need to know.  See things I need to see. New people offer to help with something I’ve been struggling to complete. And each day I gain new insight into what I know I have to do to keep stretching and growing as both a person and an artist.

What dormant dreams are in your life? And is there something you could do—big or small—to begin exploring that possibility?

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Reclaiming an Abandoned Past…

Why do we make the decisions we make? And why do we choose to hide something about ourselves that we feel is somehow not who we are, or who we want to be?

Of course, I have asked those questions rhetorically; not because I don’t expect to get an answer, but because there are so many answers.  All different. All correct. And all wrong. We make decisions with the information we have at the moment, and with how we believe that decision will affect the outcome. Some time later, we can then reflect on how the action actually played out, where we are now, and how that decision influenced it. As Kierkegaard reminded us, ‘Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.’ I have been very aware of these words over the past few years, as the changes in my life have put me in very different situations, facing new challenges, dealing with new people and their individual viewpoints, as I attempt to reshape the direction of my life to be the one I always dreamt of having when life was all possibility.

I’m speaking of the reconnection with things and people and ideas that I’d ‘edited’ out of my life, believing they would hurt me, or the image I had of who I was, or wanted to be.  Things like music that wasn’t ‘serious’ or ‘cultivated’, the fact that I was born in West Virginia, though I largely grew up elsewhere, the people I rejected because I felt they were not educated or cultured to the standard I had set for my friends. Even my family, because they weren’t the family I had in my head when I thought about who I was, and where I thought I wanted to go. Pretty petty, huh? Yes, it was, as was I about these things, and others, that I felt might hurt my chances of becoming the person I had idealized in my head. Of course, the problem with this, is I had no idea who I was to begin with, and so began to cobble together my own Frankeinstein’s monster of spare ideals floating around my head. That person would be more handsome than me, taller than I was, a better athlete, more intelligent, with a knowledge of the world I had not as the teenager creating this creature from scraps of old photos, characters from novels or movies, actual people I knew, and from my imagination. Then I needed to look around at where I was and begin to edit all those things from my life that didn’t add up to this Person. And life got complicated as I began to learn things this person would know (a good thing!), dress like them, act like them, and live, or pretend to, like them. As one might guess, this didn’t work very well, but I carried on with it for a decade or so until the ‘cracks in the plaster’ began to overwhelm me, and I began to search for truth. Truth in my life. MY truth. And I began to work through what led me to make those decisions, with laughter sometimes, and tears, of course, but beginning to heal, and to become the person I am. The one, perhaps, I was meant to be all along.

What have I discovered? First, and foremost, that my family is wonderful! Not perfect, not the ideal I created so long ago, but smart, fun, witty, and always there for each other. Including me. Who knew? That short guys can be sexy and attractive, too. That I’m pretty smart already, and people tell me they’re astonished at how much I know about so many things. That being truthful, even when you think it might hurt, is always the best way. And while I still love classical music, I also love country music, which came as a great surprise when I heard songs from bands I now listen to regularly. And that it’s all okay, and life, which can be complex, is a bit easier when you’re not trying to be something, or someone you’re not.

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Seeking the Quest

The Quest. We’ve all heard about this concept for forever, it seems, and it never ceases to fascinate us.  We throng to movies to see it in front of us—Star Wars, Superman, Batman, Dunkirk, Indiana Jones—to see our hero confront his or her worst fear, and to walk through that fire burned clean of the inessential.  Victory in battle, on land, the high seas, or in the air, is the stuff of dreams. Even Cervantes Don Quixote, tilting at windmills, championing Aldonza—who, in reality, is less than the ‘Lady’ in his mind—keeps to his quest, whether you read the pages of the novel, or see it sung in front of you on a Broadway musical stage, and we are moved by the dedication, the steadfast refusal to quit, to say ‘enough,’ and to move on to a life less stressful and demanding.  We face quests in our life all the time, though. Perhaps not as important as saving western democracy and freedom on the beaches of Normandy, or protecting the planet from those who would subvert it for their own selfish purposes. Quests like bringing up children to be good, kind, and responsible adults. Like starting a food drive/bank when you realize there are people going hungry in your area. Getting through high school or college, and the requirements necessary to do so.  While these last few may seem to many to be the stuff of ordinary life, that is where quests are born in many cases. Sometimes fueled by the deep thought that what you’re doing with your life is what you really ought to be doing, because you do certain things better than others in particular areas, and feel you might be able to use those talents or gifts to a larger concern than simply getting through life, paying the bills, taking a vacation, and making it to retirement…to do…what?  Which brings us to the fact that finding a quest is often a search for a higher meaning in life. To do bigger things, or more significant things, that go far beyond what your individual life might be able to bring to a situation. Or, I would argue, to open yourself up to new challenges, perhaps new difficulties, that you never thought you would ever need to deal with, let alone figure out how to negotiate them and the situations they create. And sometimes in this case, rather than sit and think of the pros and cons of engagement, it’s best to simply jump, and, as a favorite song of mine encourages, ‘keep your heart above your head, and your eyes wide open.’  I never thought I would do anything like hike the Appalachian Trail, but all of a sudden, the opportunity to represent my company for a week doing just that, is not only attractive, but is drawing me in more each day. The situation is just right, I have time to prepare before the actual event, shoring up the knowledge I might lack now, practice things that might be useful on this trip, and talking to those who have done it to glean tips, tricks, and hacks that could make it not only a bit easier for a novice, but downright enjoyable.  And so ‘into the breach’ to borrow Shakespeare’s words, for the first time in my case, to explore new worlds, and begin to see life—my own and that of others—from a new perspective, and perhaps contribute to someone else’s understanding of this journey called life.

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Convo Redux…

Conversations are interesting things, taking us to new worlds of ideas, countries, restaurants, sporting events, and the like.  The interaction between two people discussing, agreeing and disagreeing, and otherwise hashing out ‘things’ is one of the most pleasurable activities humans have with one another.  Humans. Plural. Indicating ‘more than one.’ But what about those conversations that involve only us?As in ‘me, myself, and I’ being the only pluralities included in the conversation?  I’m not referring to ‘talking to myself’ in this case, although I am certainly guilty of that…. I’m talking about the conversations we have as we get ready for something ‘big’ like an interview, in which we practice what we might say if asked particular questions.  Multiple times. A job interview, for example, is a big deal, especially if you’re hoping to move up, move to a better situation, or simply move to a different line of work. And because we’re unsure of what will be asked, the more questions you answer strongly, the better chance you will have of making a good impression on someone who is in a position to offer you the chance to do something different.  In this case, however, I am touching on those conversations you have—yes, with yourself—in which you improve on the actual conversation that occurred in the past. In those awkward situations in which you were not your shining best, when you feel you failed, or felt a fool afterward, and it gives you a chance to practice what you should have said.  In a meeting with the boss, your colleagues present, when your great idea was shot down, quickly and succinctly, and left only an uncomfortable silence in the room.  Where you point out the advantages, in this case, of how this can benefit the company in multiple ways that are not being used at this time. And, of course, of your own role in implementing the plan, and how invaluable to the business this is.  Those conversations. But, going deeper, those conversations when things have not gone well socially, either with friends and family, or with complete strangers you happen across in life. Recently, on the way home from work, I was waiting for a red light to turn green, which it did, and no one in front of me moved.  Slightly irritated, I waited briefly, before flashing the lights at the car in front of me. No effect. A few more seconds, and I lightly tapped the horn. This time, the car in front of me jerked forward and sped up to catch up to the cars ahead, which had apparently moved when the light turned green. A short distance later, this car pulled behind, flashing its lights, and revving its engine. Then, it moved beside me, still revving the engine.  This was starting to get a little scary. Finally, another red light stopped us both, and i noticed a young man, window down, talking in my direction. I opened the passenger window, wherein in was treated to an expletive-filled diatribe on what a jerk i was, he was at a red light, etc, ad infinitum, ad nauseam. When asked ‘what the fuck is your problem?’ I simply said, ‘Sorry. I apologize.’ And rolled up the window. He soon pulled off to get gas, and I continued, thankfully, on my way home undisturbed by similar events.  Yes, I might have been impatient. Honked inappropriately, etc. But I’ve replayed this conversation many times since then, to improve how I felt when moving on from the scene of our confrontation, but, at first, the words on my part were denigrating and caustic, turning to insulting, and finally to realizing I did the right thing by backing down from the situation. But this still goes through my head at times, and the more I want to be the ‘hero’ in this case, I still feel I did the right thing. In apologizing. Because sometimes, the best thing in strange situations is to step back, and step down, from being the ‘hero,’ and to simply be a human, open to others, and open to the fact that you both felt hurt, wounded, and defensive, and stepping away from the battle can be the best strategy.

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When pressed…

When pressed….  What do you do?!   Pressed for time, pressed for an answer, pressed for money, pressed for justification.  It doesn’t matter what we’re pressed for, we tend to go into panic mode, which, for humans, is ‘flight or fight’ mode.  And why the extreme stance? Because our archicortex, our ‘ancient’ brain is still very much with us, protecting us from attack, displacement, and even annihilation, and comes to the fore when we feel threatened, regardless of the source and possible consequence. Why?  Because as humans, we are hard-wired to survive: to survive hunger, attack, discomfort, torture, and so much else that our minds and bodies can endure, but our minds take much longer to process as to the reasons we are required to do so. Of course, sometimes the most attractive action is the ‘flight’ mode:  to flee the situation at hand, but, of course, this is not often possible. Horses are definitively ‘flight or fight’ animals, equipped with the means to quickly exit the scene physically, or, if pressed in close quarters, with striking or kicking hooves, to hopefully drive off the attack. Humans, however, are often pressed to make quick decisions without the means to physically drive off the attack.  A grocery bill. Or a tax lien. House payments or car payments that have been put off because an emergency presented itself…but still the debt remains, and demands to be paid. Now. What to do? If possible, reach out to family, who may be able to help. Or, if not, where to turn? Flight seems so attractive, just to escape the ‘now’ of the situation. To fly free, debt free, of the demands at hand. But. Not. Possible. This is when people begin to break down, to turn to crime, to simply ‘disappear’…  Not particularly that they wanted this, but it seemed the only option, the only thing they actually could do. And it’s easy to give what seems— to us not in these situations—obvious solutions, of reaching out to various charitable organizations, asking for money, or time, or even ideas on how we can fix the situation, repay the debt, create the opportunity we need. And I don’t have an answer.

While to some, the obvious response is not to put yourself in these situations to begin with, to so many, the ‘situations’ themselves have put hope and possibility at the forefront of ‘getting ahead,’ rather than opening doors through action; of putting oneself in the position of being able to take advantage of things readily available to put a person in a better position to leap ahead.  But do we all have these advantages? Do we all have a high school or college education? No. Do we all have families ready, willing, and able to help? No. Do we all have friends and colleagues that can help us? No. So what now?

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What I Really Want To Do…

‘What I really want to do is…’. The world’s most famous tag line, spoken by nearly everyone at some point in their lives.  The actor proclaiming they really want to direct. The middle-manager saying his business idea would make a great startup. The housewife planning the novel she always wanted to write. The teacher dreaming of a life in politics.  The list is as endless as the human capacity to dream. And some of these people go on to do ‘what they really want to do.’ But how many of us never act on those dreams, how many of us take those first steps to see what is required to do something different?  How many of us see that an enormous amount of work is required, and decide that maybe it’s not what we really had in mind. How many of us see ourselves at the end of this journey, successful, wealthy, acclaimed, etc., but never take the first step to see how this might become a reality?

While there is no specific answer required for the above, most of us have unrealized dreams and desires that we can achieve.  Or that we can begin to move toward realizing, and whether or not we reach the storied heights of our fantasies, our lives begin to make sense as we pursue those goals, and fulfill some part of our lives that has been empty, and wanting that ‘thing,’ that activity that truly feeds our souls, and makes us grateful to participate.  That thing, that desire, is our Olympic Games: the participation itself more important than having a medal hanging around our neck at the end. Of course, accolades and recognition for excellence is a wonderful thing, but how many unsung heroes are there in life, and that when we stop to think about it, we realize how much these people give to us, expecting nothing in return.  Because doing what they do is part of who they are, and they would be less for not doing it. Just as auditioning for community theater is vital for those who always wanted to act, and hoping to be cast in the next play, they put time, effort, care, and concern into their audition. And they grow as humans because of it…even if they don’t get the role. Because when you pay attention to what ‘feeds’ you, it grows, it improves, and it makes your life richer, and those ‘roles’ will come, or the published stories, the chance to start a business, the opportunity to explore those dreams that can become hobbies, part-time jobs, new livelihoods, or simply activities you look forward to the next time you can do them.  It is simply too easy to say there’s too much work required, there’s no chance I would be elected, my writing is not that good, the financing is not possible, without even taking the first step to see what might be possible. So much is out there to be experienced, and so much is truly within our reach. If only we reach out.

So.  What’s holding you back?  And why? Isn’t there something you really want to do?

 

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Inconvenience

Inconvenience.  When spoken, the word itself produces reactions.  Of annoyance, of disgust, of anger, of sadness. We’ve all been inconvenienced in some way, at some point in our lives.  And it lives on sometimes, because we tend to remember suffering of any kind much longer than pleasure, which, to evoke the old saying, ‘is fleeting.’  But what is this thing exactly? What might inconvenience me might be just a daily thing to you, and vice-versa. We’ve all heard—unsympathetically sometimes—others stories of inconvenience, and thought to ourselves, ‘Really?  That was an inconvenience?’ And then thought, ‘…let me tell you about inconvenience…’ before launching into our own tale of woe that undid us at the time, knowing our own feelings of being put upon, put out, or otherwise annoyed would far outstrip that being told.  

It’s an interesting human characteristic that we are able to experience pleasure, and because this is usually a happy occurrence, we forget it all too quickly.  With suffering of any kind, because of the complete breakdown of expectations, we remember the nuisance of the situation far longer than is healthy. But the truth of the matter is that there people out there who have survived soul-shattering events in their lives—murder, rape, torture, financial ruin, persecution—who have not only survived the event, but made the decision to move through it emotionally and psychologically, and reclaim their lives as best they’re able, often succeeding so successfully that they become heroes for having faced the worst, met it eye-to-eye, and though they may not have been ‘triumphant’ in the encounter, they used the experience and the knowledge this brings, to make others aware of better ways to deal with adverse events in our lives.  Helen Keller, Anne Frank, Louis Zamperini, all went through unexpected struggles in their lives: Keller with being blind, deaf, and dumb, Anne Frank with hiding from the Nazi’s to save her family’s life, Zamperini with the glories of the Olympics, followed by unbelievable physical torture in the Pacific during the World War II. And while some of their struggles did not end with a ‘happy ending,’ all demonstrated the power of the human spirit to survive in the most difficult times, knowing, hoping, and praying that they could just make it one more day.

Yes, it’s inconvenient when it rains on your day off when you’d planned a great day at the beach with friends, or when your child struggles with school, and there seems to be nothing you can do to help them, or the fender-bender, or the chronically late co-worker, but looking inward, what is there in this situation at hand that makes you grateful?  And I know I sometimes have to look pretty deep, but the rain will pass, and maybe those beach plans, now ‘ruined’ make you see what amazing friends you have in your life, that the child who is struggling has such a strong desire to understand and learn, that the dent in the car is repairable and that no one was hurt, and though often late, your co-worker always has your back.  Because I’ve found that it really is impossible to remain angry and hurt at the same time you feel gratitude. So, ‘count your blessings’ and begin to feel the annoyance, anger, hurt, and yes, inconvenience begin to dissipate as gratitude for what is good begins to take its place. What has really happened when you do this? You’ve replaced Fear with Love, which conquers everything.