Thank you again, John Steinbeck.
How clear your advice this morning...how appropriate as the sound of the "less than good" scurrying away into the void feels me with regret and yet, I am left again with the sun still smiling on my face.
Smiling changes brain chemistry. Sunshine makes the shadows that we leave behind and behind us is where they belong. I cannot fathom staying behind with them. It's not my nature and as those who know and love me can attest, it is with nature that my heart sings.
Monday, June 16, 2014
Sunday, June 15, 2014
The Circle of Fathers
I always imagined that the kind of father I longed for was a fairy tale character. Curiosity rules as I observe father/daughter interactions in public.
Are they happy together? Do they talk and dream and plot silly things? Will he support her decisions and will she forgive his mistakes?
My own daughter struggles confronting the fragility of her relationship with her father just as I did. How did this occur and why couldn't we break this sad circle? The answer lies with who I chose to marry and how I played out similar scenarios with him - a complete cycle of ineffective communication.
John Steinbeck wrote a beautiful letter about love and its effects to his eldest son Thom. For a man who had finally found peace with his third wife, it's particularly poignant and sweet.
Are they happy together? Do they talk and dream and plot silly things? Will he support her decisions and will she forgive his mistakes?
My own daughter struggles confronting the fragility of her relationship with her father just as I did. How did this occur and why couldn't we break this sad circle? The answer lies with who I chose to marry and how I played out similar scenarios with him - a complete cycle of ineffective communication.
John Steinbeck wrote a beautiful letter about love and its effects to his eldest son Thom. For a man who had finally found peace with his third wife, it's particularly poignant and sweet.
New York
November 10, 1958
November 10, 1958
Dear Thom:
We had your letter this morning. I will answer it from my point of view and of course Elaine will from hers.
First — if you are in love — that’s a good thing — that’s about the best thing that can happen to anyone. Don’t let anyone make it small or light to you.
Second — There are several kinds of love. One is a selfish, mean, grasping, egotistical thing which uses love for self-importance. This is the ugly and crippling kind. The other is an outpouring of everything good in you — of kindness and consideration and respect — not only the social respect of manners but the greater respect which is recognition of another person as unique and valuable. The first kind can make you sick and small and weak but the second can release in you strength, and courage and goodness and even wisdom you didn’t know you had.
You say this is not puppy love. If you feel so deeply — of course it isn’t puppy love.
But I don’t think you were asking me what you feel. You know better than anyone. What you wanted me to help you with is what to do about it — and that I can tell you.
Glory in it for one thing and be very glad and grateful for it.
The object of love is the best and most beautiful. Try to live up to it.
If you love someone — there is no possible harm in saying so — only you must remember that some people are very shy and sometimes the saying must take that shyness into consideration.
Girls have a way of knowing or feeling what you feel, but they usually like to hear it also.
It sometimes happens that what you feel is not returned for one reason or another — but that does not make your feeling less valuable and good.
Lastly, I know your feeling because I have it and I’m glad you have it.
We will be glad to meet Susan. She will be very welcome. But Elaine will make all such arrangements because that is her province and she will be very glad to. She knows about love too and maybe she can give you more help than I can.
And don’t worry about losing. If it is right, it happens — The main thing is not to hurry. Nothing good gets away.
Love,
Fa
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Nothing good gets away."
I will take Steinbeck's fatherly advice and remember that although he isn't my father, his words matter and nary a fairy tale need suffer. :-)
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
Wallace Arrives
We keep them hidden...our old selves from our new.
A simple question triggered an emotional onslaught as my lost girl peeked out again.
SUNDAY MORNING
Stanza 2
Wallace Stevens
Why should she give her bounty to the dead?
What is divinity if it can come
Only in silent shadows and in dreams?
Shall she not find in comforts of the sun,
In pungent fruit and bright green wings, or else
In any balm or beauty of the earth,
Things to be cherished like the thought of heaven?
Divinity must live within herself:
Passions of rain, or moods in falling snow;
Grievings in loneliness, or unsubdued
Elations when the forest blooms; gusty
Emotions on wet roads on autumn nights;
All pleasures and all pains, remembering
The bough of summer and the winter branch.
These are the measure destined for her soul.
The days of a single poetry stanza bringing forth deep emotion had disappeared, right? But no, just delayed....
As a young woman in her mid 20's, I had no care for the speed of life. The faster, the better as silly youth dictated regardless of how much suffering needed to be healed. Rushing through pain was all that I understood to salve it and yet, the rushing of hurt did not make for a mended heart.
And so I delved into Wallace to find a release and there I first discovered my philosophy of heaven. Without any formal churchgoing, I sat alone and tried to make sense of religion. No one I knew talked much about heaven but hell was a constant threat.
Life was all about punishment; escaping eternal agony was a top priority in my poverty stricken and depressed community.
But I could not believe in their darkness. Instead, to get past my hurtful youth, I contrived that perhaps I was already in heaven. Glimpses of my personal hell, my often self-imposed misery convinced me that the ultimate direction to heaven was simply to pay attention to my beautiful and blessed surroundings. It existed around me if I cared to take notice and this part of Wallace's poem clearly explained my musings.
...gusty Emotions...pleasures...pains...destined for her soul
Cheers to Wallace!
A simple question triggered an emotional onslaught as my lost girl peeked out again.
SUNDAY MORNING
Stanza 2
Wallace Stevens
Why should she give her bounty to the dead?
What is divinity if it can come
Only in silent shadows and in dreams?
Shall she not find in comforts of the sun,
In pungent fruit and bright green wings, or else
In any balm or beauty of the earth,
Things to be cherished like the thought of heaven?
Divinity must live within herself:
Passions of rain, or moods in falling snow;
Grievings in loneliness, or unsubdued
Elations when the forest blooms; gusty
Emotions on wet roads on autumn nights;
All pleasures and all pains, remembering
The bough of summer and the winter branch.
These are the measure destined for her soul.
The days of a single poetry stanza bringing forth deep emotion had disappeared, right? But no, just delayed....
As a young woman in her mid 20's, I had no care for the speed of life. The faster, the better as silly youth dictated regardless of how much suffering needed to be healed. Rushing through pain was all that I understood to salve it and yet, the rushing of hurt did not make for a mended heart.
And so I delved into Wallace to find a release and there I first discovered my philosophy of heaven. Without any formal churchgoing, I sat alone and tried to make sense of religion. No one I knew talked much about heaven but hell was a constant threat.
Life was all about punishment; escaping eternal agony was a top priority in my poverty stricken and depressed community.
But I could not believe in their darkness. Instead, to get past my hurtful youth, I contrived that perhaps I was already in heaven. Glimpses of my personal hell, my often self-imposed misery convinced me that the ultimate direction to heaven was simply to pay attention to my beautiful and blessed surroundings. It existed around me if I cared to take notice and this part of Wallace's poem clearly explained my musings.
...gusty Emotions...pleasures...pains...destined for her soul
Cheers to Wallace!
Saturday, June 7, 2014
And then I remembered....
The most fabulous thing about this time in my life is that I get to have FUN with myself and that means I'm then happy to have FUN with another.
It's easy to get distracted as friends, family, former lovers, etc. thrash about with their own ideas concerning my bachelorette status...tsk tsk tsk...methinks they might be envious because my biggest concern isn't them but myself and my own contentment.
Because I remembered, life alone or supported can be fun....
It's easy to get distracted as friends, family, former lovers, etc. thrash about with their own ideas concerning my bachelorette status...tsk tsk tsk...methinks they might be envious because my biggest concern isn't them but myself and my own contentment.
Because I remembered, life alone or supported can be fun....
Perspective
Fear of being abandoned
Fear of being smothered
It's an odd fact that these two rear their ugly heads simultaneously in a relationship as our "other half" mentality takes over and convinces us that we're incomplete without a partner. The "first half," our original self, pushes back and demands autonomy, independence, and control of our destiny.
Being split down the middle while battling these "selves" gets easier as we age BUT it's annoying. Women from both sides of the camp ponder the possibilities and stress about a final answer.
I've found that discussing this topic with women is as fulfilling as arguing the Democrat/Republican perspective, religion, or any number of divisive issues. No one's situation fits the black and white answer that society demands. Instead, we're as stretched as a used band-aid losing our "sticky" with each argument and experience.
BALANCE has never been more important than in midlife as we embark upon acrimonious paths and battles raged between and among the sexes.
The totality of our peace depends upon finding a sweet spot with someone who is open to the "two selves" struggling to find acceptance with oneself as well as with another.
Fear of being smothered
It's an odd fact that these two rear their ugly heads simultaneously in a relationship as our "other half" mentality takes over and convinces us that we're incomplete without a partner. The "first half," our original self, pushes back and demands autonomy, independence, and control of our destiny.
Being split down the middle while battling these "selves" gets easier as we age BUT it's annoying. Women from both sides of the camp ponder the possibilities and stress about a final answer.
I've found that discussing this topic with women is as fulfilling as arguing the Democrat/Republican perspective, religion, or any number of divisive issues. No one's situation fits the black and white answer that society demands. Instead, we're as stretched as a used band-aid losing our "sticky" with each argument and experience.
BALANCE has never been more important than in midlife as we embark upon acrimonious paths and battles raged between and among the sexes.
The totality of our peace depends upon finding a sweet spot with someone who is open to the "two selves" struggling to find acceptance with oneself as well as with another.
Thursday, June 5, 2014
Precipice
I'm not proud of my cowardly feelings when looking at future's edge. Truth be told, I just can't paint a pretty picture of my pure and simple fright.
"Jump into the unknown, step forward with the pain, embrace the mystery...." I've chanted those mantras time and again to get past my cowardice. It worked but it still doesn't mean I liked abandoning security. I'm not even sure why I keep pushing myself to be uncomfortable. Maybe I'm aware that one aspect of my being has not been pushed enough and finally...finally, I'm ready to approach the edge and challenge my pock-marked brain to exercise its intellect once again.
At life's midpoint, I'm happy with my physical prowess. I am sure in my ability to continue my path to lifetime fitness. Emotionally, my development is on a great trajectory for growth and maturity. With the aging of my parents and children, I'm positive that I will be tested but I'm comfortable with asking for help and I'm secure with the relationships I have in place to help me handle life's unexpected dramas.
Physical. Emotional. Mental. That final piece of the triad has gone untested for so long that I fear it has atrophied to an unrecoverable point. My mental acuity has taken the hardest hit from my monster, MS.
I have to explore the unknown aspects of my ravaged brain. A neurological psychologist helped me with the baseline 3 years ago or should I say he dropped the "brain bomb" in my lap.
Black holes. Some of my lesions turned into what the MRI techs call black holes which simply means that NOTHING shows up on the scan. It's lost...forever.
"But you look so good." "I can't believe you have it!" "Oh, yours isn't so bad." "I forget things too. No big deal."
Black holes. I grieve for them. I wonder what part of my memory/knowledge disappeared and I'm frustrated that I can't know what I do not know. . . .
My limbs are intact. I'm mobile. I'm lucid. I am ABLE rather than being DISabled.
Yet I grieve at having black holes and feel guilty for the grief.
Grief. Guilt. Fright. I'm tired of hosting them on a daily basis in my back room psyche. Exorcising these demons means I must exercise my brain and face my deficits. Scary place...grey matter with black holes.
But into its depths I must go and find the release valve.
#fearlessMS
"Jump into the unknown, step forward with the pain, embrace the mystery...." I've chanted those mantras time and again to get past my cowardice. It worked but it still doesn't mean I liked abandoning security. I'm not even sure why I keep pushing myself to be uncomfortable. Maybe I'm aware that one aspect of my being has not been pushed enough and finally...finally, I'm ready to approach the edge and challenge my pock-marked brain to exercise its intellect once again.
At life's midpoint, I'm happy with my physical prowess. I am sure in my ability to continue my path to lifetime fitness. Emotionally, my development is on a great trajectory for growth and maturity. With the aging of my parents and children, I'm positive that I will be tested but I'm comfortable with asking for help and I'm secure with the relationships I have in place to help me handle life's unexpected dramas.
Physical. Emotional. Mental. That final piece of the triad has gone untested for so long that I fear it has atrophied to an unrecoverable point. My mental acuity has taken the hardest hit from my monster, MS.
I have to explore the unknown aspects of my ravaged brain. A neurological psychologist helped me with the baseline 3 years ago or should I say he dropped the "brain bomb" in my lap.
Black holes. Some of my lesions turned into what the MRI techs call black holes which simply means that NOTHING shows up on the scan. It's lost...forever.
"But you look so good." "I can't believe you have it!" "Oh, yours isn't so bad." "I forget things too. No big deal."
Black holes. I grieve for them. I wonder what part of my memory/knowledge disappeared and I'm frustrated that I can't know what I do not know. . . .
My limbs are intact. I'm mobile. I'm lucid. I am ABLE rather than being DISabled.
Yet I grieve at having black holes and feel guilty for the grief.
Grief. Guilt. Fright. I'm tired of hosting them on a daily basis in my back room psyche. Exorcising these demons means I must exercise my brain and face my deficits. Scary place...grey matter with black holes.
But into its depths I must go and find the release valve.
#fearlessMS
Monday, June 2, 2014
Whole Spirit
Passive aggressive...temper tantrums...detached from their own personal truths....
It's a hard thing to face. I went out with these men and had great affection for them and DID NOT listen to that inner voice that said CAUTION.
And the CAUTION sign wasn't about the kind of men they chose to be but about the kind of woman I was choosing to be...simply by being with them.
I was choosing to indulge their relationship "ideal" versus my own. By letting my own worthiness fall to the wayside, I fell victim to my lack of confidence. I fell victim to my own perceived inadequacies and I didn't stand firm in my convictions.
But each fall has subsequently been shorter, less painful and the healing came faster until no healing was required at all. Instead, I accepted my mistake, forgot about flagellation, and moved away and forward.
Facing the sunshine means not caring about my shadow anymore; it also means facing the storms and believing that I will emerge as a whole spirit.
I can be whole in spirit although my psyche became a bit tattered over the last decade. All those less than perfect parts of me can integrate now because I have learned that I can heal and those scars...they're just growth...not failure.
Whole
Spirit
Me
It's a hard thing to face. I went out with these men and had great affection for them and DID NOT listen to that inner voice that said CAUTION.
And the CAUTION sign wasn't about the kind of men they chose to be but about the kind of woman I was choosing to be...simply by being with them.
I was choosing to indulge their relationship "ideal" versus my own. By letting my own worthiness fall to the wayside, I fell victim to my lack of confidence. I fell victim to my own perceived inadequacies and I didn't stand firm in my convictions.
But each fall has subsequently been shorter, less painful and the healing came faster until no healing was required at all. Instead, I accepted my mistake, forgot about flagellation, and moved away and forward.
Facing the sunshine means not caring about my shadow anymore; it also means facing the storms and believing that I will emerge as a whole spirit.
I can be whole in spirit although my psyche became a bit tattered over the last decade. All those less than perfect parts of me can integrate now because I have learned that I can heal and those scars...they're just growth...not failure.
Whole
Spirit
Me
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