Beyond Love and Lust

How many people consider the probability of changing the one they love when contemplating marriage?  I think quite a few.  What about considering compromise and forgiveness?  I think very few, if any, but I don’t think they’re disregarded on purpose.  Love and lust make wonderful partners, joining forces to snatch away common sense and reality; to support the mantra, it doesn’t matter; to make the fairytale, happily ever after, seem highly obtainable; to candy coat two faulty human beings.  I think it’s possible to consider all of these, but marriage looks so good without them, why would I want to?  What does compromise look like in a marriage?  It’s not always getting what I want.  It’s not you always getting what you want.  It’s meeting in the middle and if that’s not possible, someone giving in – not always the same one, but always with no regrets, plenty of gratitude, and never keeping score.  And forgiveness?  There will be lots of that because of all the little hurtful screw ups that aren’t meant to happen but they just do.  There could be gigantic screw ups too, that crush hearts and trust.  Forgive?  Maybe.  No one knows your heart better than you.

The Weight of Choices

The toughest decisions I’ve ever made were those after my husband died.  For 36+ years, decisions were made together, discussing pros/cons, and sharing the weight of less than optimum results.  But alone, it’s really all about the weight, which included wavering between options, doubt about the results, and dread when decisions had to be made with no good options, when I couldn’t wait for better ones.  The dread, therefore the weight, lasted more than a year when our house didn’t sell and I had to rent it out, stepping away from its care.  The loss on the sale was greater than expected, the weight consisting of anger, feeling taken advantage of, and frustration, can’t leave, can’t stay either.  I doubted my choice for my new house and took a year to decide on the much needed renovations.  I was also angry at him for leaving these things for me to take care of.  Decision making is light when there’s a pretty-sure option, lots of time to decide, and someone to share the weight of the result.  But if not, choose anyway and keep letting go of the weight, because you will arrive, eventually, at where you’re supposed to be.

We Rise

“What defines us is how well we rise after falling.” (Maid in Manhattan)  My granddaughter was exceptionally good this past summer at full body slams into the grass after running as fast as her little legs could carry her.  But even as my grandson yelled, “BABY DOWN!”, she was up and off again!  Physical falling hurts, sometimes causing enough damage to need repairs.  Life falling hurts too, causing enough damage to need repairs, but those repairs aren’t as clearly defined or well-known.  There were times when I picked myself right back up, brushed myself off, rising quickly, off again.  Other times when I got right up, off again, but where to rise to, didn’t immediately presented itself.  And one time when it took years to just start to rise, not rising well at all.  But rising isn’t about how quickly I do it, it’s that I do it.  It’s about finding a plan to rise, not letting life continue to pull me along the grass, but at the very least getting my feet under me, and then asking what’s next.  All kinds of things, like anger, can get in the way of rising, so stomp on them with, I’M DOWN, BUT NOT OUT!

Pick It Up

Something like this was said in the movie, Five Feet Apart; Pick it up . . . start again.  That’s what you do to life when you drop it – when you forget you need to carry it to continue on.  Life is wonderful and terrible.  As I move through life at its best or even through the “normal”, I never think about carrying life around.  During those times it’s not heavy, so not a burden, an inconvenience, or painful to lug around.  (As I write this, I’m questioning these thoughts.  Do I have it backwards?  Shouldn’t life carry me around?  No; that would mean I have no control at all.)  Then life at its worst arrived, when I couldn’t help notice what I was lugging around, but didn’t know what to do with it.  I didn’t want to throw it away so I dropped it, right in the way of continuing on, in perfect position to give it a good kick, but I didn’t.  I kicked myself around instead while it stayed right there, patiently waiting for the slightest indication that I was ready to pick it up . . . start again.  Life didn’t give up on me, so I didn’t give up on it.

At the Bottom

“You ask for the thing at the bottom of your heart . . .“  (Traveling with Pomegranates)  I ask for things, pursue them, but don’t have to dig very deep.  They’re not buried in my heart, but rather, as they say, on the tip of my tongue.  What would I find if I went to the bottom of my heart?  Things I’ve wanted but never obtained?  Things I’m sure I won’t get, but haven’t taken the final step of letting them go?  Things I don’t dare hope for because I hate disappointment?  Is there something I buried so long ago, I’ve forgotten it’s still there?  Is it a failure that I can’t let go?  Having a friend close by would qualify for most of the above.  Another chance at love would qualify for some.  This isn’t a genie in a lamp giving me three wishes; it’s just one whopper of a wish, and neither friend nor love would be my choice.  It’s not something impossible, like having my husband back.  It’s not for someone else either, like paying off my children’s debt.  What then?  I can’t come up with an answer.  Maybe that just means all I have is enough – is that true?

Unreasonable

I thought about the word, unreasonable, this morning, asking, is this unreasonable, a word used to pass judgement.  I find myself being judgmental way too often, but rarely in regards to unreasonable.  My answer is based on my own bias, on what I deem to be too demanding, impractical, or unhealthy.  Asking if something is unreasonable is the perfect test when it comes to something that isn’t ideal to determine if I want to do it anyway.  I’m wondering how many things have I pass over because they weren’t ideal, but reasonable?  This past weekend, crossing the ice cold water flowing over the dam in my bare feet wasn’t ideal, but it was reasonable since it was blocking the trail to the top of Haystack Mountain.  Sometimes being asked for a favor or your help won’t be ideal, but reasonable is good enough to say yes.  I can use the unreasonable test on so many things, like my job, home, yard, diet, and exercise routine, and when the answer becomes a yes, it’s time to make some changes or do something different.  Don’t stop at, is it ideal.  Get to,  is it unreasonable.  Becoming content with acceptable and realistic.

Cleaning Out

It’s time to clean out my closets – open the door, snoop around, start pulling out the unwanted, unneeded, undesirable – not fun!  Closest are great for clothes and storage, but they’re also an easy place to hide stuff – I’ll just set this in here, out of sight, and deal with it later – no big deal!  It’s time to clean out my life – open the door to my heart, mind, and soul, snoop around, start pulling out the unwanted, unneeded, undesirable – anything but fun!  These are great places to collect thoughts and feelings, but they’re also an easy place to hide stuff – I’ll just set this in here, out of sight – no big deal!   Oh, but it is.  The longer harmful, negative, or judgmental thoughts stay in my mind, the deeper they entrench themselves.  Feelings that don’t bring me joy or hope will start to feel “normal”.  The not so great things about being human, like selfishness, can grow to become a lack of compassion.  So, before they change me, before I say, no big deal, ask why am I keeping it, and how does it benefit me and others?  The answers better be great.  And, don’t wait until spring arrives!

Try

“Success is the ability to go from one failure to another with no loss of enthusiasm.” (Winston Churchill)  And all this time I thought success meant to achieve a goal or purpose, having nothing to do with failure.  I like Mr. Churchill’s definition much better because I’ve had many more opportunities to try and try and therefore succeed, then to reach the point of achievement and, therefore succeed.  What I just realized about trying and failing is that each subsequent try isn’t the same as the one before it, because if it were, why bother?  That attempt failed, so something’s got to be altered, even if just a smidge, to have any chance of getting closer to solving or achieving.  The focal point is the attempt, not the failure, and not on the goal either.  When the focal point is the goal, failure is frustrating and grows more frustrating with each failure – I’ve experienced carrying around more and more frustration in my pocket.  By defining success as keep trying, I can carry around different things in my pocket, like still interested, still passionate, and therefore, still determined.  Trying and never reaching achieve; possible, but exceedingly better than not trying at all.

A Little Messy

In a novel by Sue Monk Kidd, there was a reference to coloring outside the lines.  I don’t know if I was taught not to or it just came naturally to the tidiness I have in my life, but I reacted with, who says I can’t?  My coloring books looked nice and neat, just like my life since I was a kid.  I faithfully picked up the bedroom I shared with my sister, piling up all her stuff in a corner of the build-in dresser – it would drive her nuts!  I still faithfully pick-up clutter around my house, and in my life, but the, don’t color outside the lines, swimming around in my head has hit it’s mark and I’m thinking why can’t my life include a little messy?  What’s wrong with not so perfect.  I’ve been striving to stay in the lines, but whose lines?  Mine, determining what my life must be, then getting upset when it’s not.  Other people’s lines, determining what my life should be, what’s “normal”, and when I stray outside those lines, feeling bad about myself?  Nope.  I no longer want to always stay inside those lines.  Time to be OK with a little messy.

So Will Life

As I thought about being on the downhill side of life, I couldn’t help but compare the journey to common occurrences, like the bell-shaped curve, a waxing/waning moon, a  mountaintop hike.  These describe how we learn, knowing nothing at first, then gaining more and more knowledge over time, and finally unable to use it or don’t need it.  It’s how we work, picking up toys, part-time jobs, full-time jobs and careers, and then retirement.  It’s how our bodies change, growing strong and tall, using all kinds of muscles, then struggling to use just a few.  It’s the stages of being a parent, before kids with no one to attend to except yourself, then usually one child at a time arrives needing most of that attention, then add some more, with each addition grabbing more attention, then one by one off to college with each subtraction gradually returning the attention back to yourself.  All of these life events prepare me for the journey towards death; each with a beginning, middle, and ending, or a climb and decent, or no need, a great need, then returning to no need.  Parenting will end.  Employed will end.  Physical strength will end.  And so will life.