Forget finding a mother duck, sometimes you just need your mother. I have several friends whose moms have died. I'm so glad I have my mom. I still have enough baggage with her to gauge which things I want to share with her when I'm feeling vulnerable, but more and more I'm rewarded for taking a chance and sharing.
Tonight she was just the person I needed to help me feel more spacious, seeing the bigger picture, feeling less alone. At first our conversation was just about the details of her next visit. I suggested she stay longer, subtext: "I'm lonely. I need you. Please come stay with me." Of course, she responded to what I said with the practicalities of the visit, and as she said the reasons she had to leave when she did, and continued talking about the details, I felt myself going into the self-imposed state of aloneness I can sometimes go into. I decided not to do that to myself. "I'm lonely." I told her.
Sometimes all you need is to reach out. Then we had one of those conversations that probably promted the phrase, "friendship is the sweetest balm," when someone says just what you need to hear and brings you to another place. She told me with warmth in her voice how much bounteousness I'd added to her life, and then sympathized with the longing I feel for a special person, saying she remembered being my age and feeling that. Thanks, mom.
My mom has found love, and now whenever I picture her, it is like she is in a little cottage in a village in the woods, with animals freinds hanging out in the house, and soup cooking in the background, and a loving husband just getting home, or reading the paper, or playing with the dog and petting the cat. "Our house is a very very very fine house..."
Monday, April 10, 2006
Sunday, April 09, 2006
Is your biggest project yourself?
When I was looking for Fat is a Feminist Issue in a bookstore the other day, I saw a book called The Body Project. It was all about the history of teenage girls and their relationship with their bodies. I don't know if you know any teenage girls well. I know girls at my church who seem to have escaped this detour from living, but I also know many girls including my cousin, including me as a teenager, who make the biggest project in their lives the reshaping and improvement of their bodies.
Grown women often do this, but some of them move on to improving other aspects of themselves, like their emotions or their social skills. This seems less shallow. But it is still approaching yourself as if you need to be fixed. So, instead of putting your energy into doing things that you enjoy, you put energy into making yourself better. It is a difference in orientation to yourself and to life. Are you in yourself, a subject that is living life, or are you viewing yourself, an object that needs to be better.
I think one of the basic questions is: Can I trust my own desires? If I do what I like, am I going to be ok? Don't I need to monitor myself closely and then fix myself? Thinking anecdotally, I can group this difference somewhat by gender. Most self-help books seem to be directed at women. I can picture men playing sports and climbing mountains and women counting calories and measuring their thighs. This is a sad state of affairs. I don't know how accurate that stereotype is. Picturing some men who don't work at self-improvement, I realize that the urge to fix yourself is not all bad. ;) Maybe the best way to live is with balance, introspecting and focusing on the outer world.
I thought of this post because my vision is wavering, as if I'm looking at one of those ambivalent pictures where you can see two different things depending on where you focus; like a square popping in or out. I feel an urge to get into life more! Blame it on Spring, if you want. As many women know, dieting can actually be energizing, especially in the planning stages. Anything that makes you feel in control of your destiny can feel good. In the end though, that feeling of getting into life fades when you make your body your project, because it ends up feeling more like getting ready for life than living it. I'm taking my urge to do something and shifting it to where I need more balance: doing something fun. I'm going to take up a couple activities I've been wanting to do for awhile, including improv! I hope this post helps someone who needs it to see the other picture. I welcome your thoughts.
Grown women often do this, but some of them move on to improving other aspects of themselves, like their emotions or their social skills. This seems less shallow. But it is still approaching yourself as if you need to be fixed. So, instead of putting your energy into doing things that you enjoy, you put energy into making yourself better. It is a difference in orientation to yourself and to life. Are you in yourself, a subject that is living life, or are you viewing yourself, an object that needs to be better.
I think one of the basic questions is: Can I trust my own desires? If I do what I like, am I going to be ok? Don't I need to monitor myself closely and then fix myself? Thinking anecdotally, I can group this difference somewhat by gender. Most self-help books seem to be directed at women. I can picture men playing sports and climbing mountains and women counting calories and measuring their thighs. This is a sad state of affairs. I don't know how accurate that stereotype is. Picturing some men who don't work at self-improvement, I realize that the urge to fix yourself is not all bad. ;) Maybe the best way to live is with balance, introspecting and focusing on the outer world.
I thought of this post because my vision is wavering, as if I'm looking at one of those ambivalent pictures where you can see two different things depending on where you focus; like a square popping in or out. I feel an urge to get into life more! Blame it on Spring, if you want. As many women know, dieting can actually be energizing, especially in the planning stages. Anything that makes you feel in control of your destiny can feel good. In the end though, that feeling of getting into life fades when you make your body your project, because it ends up feeling more like getting ready for life than living it. I'm taking my urge to do something and shifting it to where I need more balance: doing something fun. I'm going to take up a couple activities I've been wanting to do for awhile, including improv! I hope this post helps someone who needs it to see the other picture. I welcome your thoughts.
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Birth Days
Not your first day on earth, but your first day out of your mother's body on earth. That is your birthday.
Because memories are state dependent, I have been remembering some of my most depressing birthdays today. The one I remember the most today is my 18th birthday. My mom and I had moved into another family's basement, who were friends of ours. Our carpet was plaid. There was sparkly sprayed-on stuff on the ceiling. We had dark wood paneling on all the walls, except for the wall that had the giant picture of a beach on it. No, this wasn't in the 70's, but it might have looked a little like a ghetto version of an Austin Powers movie.
I felt embarrassed by my lack of money often while I was growing up. But on that birthday I felt most embarrassed that my mom was throwing my birthday party. It was sort of like a little kid's party, but it might have been fine if not for her serious miscalculation resting on the faulty premise that surprise = fun. I knew about the party. That wasn't a surprise. I was helping to prepare for it. (Surprise might have something to do with fun if it gets you out of the preparation.) The big surprise was: I had invited all these people and none of them were coming! Surprise!
After about the 5th phone call that night saying someone couldn't come, (I lie I can't remember how many phone calls there were,) I talked to my friend K. She had been my friend since we were in 4th grade. Apparently we were in nursery school together. It was my 18th birthday. She said she couldn't come to my 18th birthday party because her mom wanted her to stay home and get some things done. I was incredulous, I knew her nice mom, "Are you serious? But it's my birthday! Ask her if you can just come for a little while!" I pleaded. Later she told me that she felt really bad doing that. Of course she did! That is not a fun birthday surprise! What was my mother thinking!
After everyone actually showed up, (much to my mixed emotions,) we played stupid games. At least that's what the people-who-weren't-really-my-friends-but-we-were-in-the -same-circle-of-friends-so-I-sort-of-considered-them-friends-and-invited-them-like -you-do-with-distant-relatives-when-you-invite-them-to-a -wedding-even-though-you- have-no-emotional-ties-whatsoever said. Then the cou de ta of humiliation: My big 18th birthday present from my family (ie: my mother.) If the party in it's entirety wasn't embarrassing enough, if it didn't just emphasize that no matter how much I tried to pretend, I did not have a happy, well-to-do, or socially ept family, I then had to open my present in front of my friends. I wasn't surprised, (and I don't think at that point that they were either,) to find that my present was 18 pairs of socks, each one a different color. For years after that I wore those mustard yellow, purple, bright pink, or lime green socks when it was laundry day, or when I was walking around inside. I always put them on grudgingly. I'm very happy to say that none of those socks are with us now.
The whole party was worthy of being a scene in that one movie where the kid had a big fro, and lives in a small town. (Ever since I turned 25 I often can't remember the precise words for things. That fits in with this post because that's depressing too, and has to do with age.) I now find my mom's presents charming, and she usually adds a check to the mix (that was weird) which helps. On this current birthday, my mom's present was the only thing that was not depressing. Quirky seems cooler to me now that I am older. On my cat in the hat birthday card, she gave me a message in binary, hex and decimals. I told her I was tickled by her card. "Well, she said, "I just kept trying to think: what is special about 32?" It's 2 to the power of 5, that's what!
Because memories are state dependent, I have been remembering some of my most depressing birthdays today. The one I remember the most today is my 18th birthday. My mom and I had moved into another family's basement, who were friends of ours. Our carpet was plaid. There was sparkly sprayed-on stuff on the ceiling. We had dark wood paneling on all the walls, except for the wall that had the giant picture of a beach on it. No, this wasn't in the 70's, but it might have looked a little like a ghetto version of an Austin Powers movie.
I felt embarrassed by my lack of money often while I was growing up. But on that birthday I felt most embarrassed that my mom was throwing my birthday party. It was sort of like a little kid's party, but it might have been fine if not for her serious miscalculation resting on the faulty premise that surprise = fun. I knew about the party. That wasn't a surprise. I was helping to prepare for it. (Surprise might have something to do with fun if it gets you out of the preparation.) The big surprise was: I had invited all these people and none of them were coming! Surprise!
After about the 5th phone call that night saying someone couldn't come, (I lie I can't remember how many phone calls there were,) I talked to my friend K. She had been my friend since we were in 4th grade. Apparently we were in nursery school together. It was my 18th birthday. She said she couldn't come to my 18th birthday party because her mom wanted her to stay home and get some things done. I was incredulous, I knew her nice mom, "Are you serious? But it's my birthday! Ask her if you can just come for a little while!" I pleaded. Later she told me that she felt really bad doing that. Of course she did! That is not a fun birthday surprise! What was my mother thinking!
After everyone actually showed up, (much to my mixed emotions,) we played stupid games. At least that's what the people-who-weren't-really-my-friends-but-we-were-in-the -same-circle-of-friends-so-I-sort-of-considered-them-friends-and-invited-them-like -you-do-with-distant-relatives-when-you-invite-them-to-a -wedding-even-though-you- have-no-emotional-ties-whatsoever said. Then the cou de ta of humiliation: My big 18th birthday present from my family (ie: my mother.) If the party in it's entirety wasn't embarrassing enough, if it didn't just emphasize that no matter how much I tried to pretend, I did not have a happy, well-to-do, or socially ept family, I then had to open my present in front of my friends. I wasn't surprised, (and I don't think at that point that they were either,) to find that my present was 18 pairs of socks, each one a different color. For years after that I wore those mustard yellow, purple, bright pink, or lime green socks when it was laundry day, or when I was walking around inside. I always put them on grudgingly. I'm very happy to say that none of those socks are with us now.
The whole party was worthy of being a scene in that one movie where the kid had a big fro, and lives in a small town. (Ever since I turned 25 I often can't remember the precise words for things. That fits in with this post because that's depressing too, and has to do with age.) I now find my mom's presents charming, and she usually adds a check to the mix (that was weird) which helps. On this current birthday, my mom's present was the only thing that was not depressing. Quirky seems cooler to me now that I am older. On my cat in the hat birthday card, she gave me a message in binary, hex and decimals. I told her I was tickled by her card. "Well, she said, "I just kept trying to think: what is special about 32?" It's 2 to the power of 5, that's what!
Sunday, April 02, 2006
Emma's Revolution- a few little ways to save the world
Hi all,
Remember my dark night of the soul I had (well, sorta) from a few nights ago? I felt the lack of meaning in my job, great job as it is, and full of gratitude for it as I am. My solution was to give myself a break, give myself permission to rest for awhile, and just enjoy having a job, living where I want to live, and having dental insurance.
Listening to music by Emma's Revolution last night has sparked an addendum to that solution. I realized that I can add conciousness raising to many parts of my life. I can imbue my life with meaning! When I got a job my mom suggested that I tithe part of my income. I grew up paying tithing and there is part of me that wants every little penny of my money, on the other hand one of the reasons I am most excited to have a regular income is so that I can contribute to my church and other organizations that are doing good work.
Some other ways I want to add meaning to the everyday parts of my life:
Remember my dark night of the soul I had (well, sorta) from a few nights ago? I felt the lack of meaning in my job, great job as it is, and full of gratitude for it as I am. My solution was to give myself a break, give myself permission to rest for awhile, and just enjoy having a job, living where I want to live, and having dental insurance.
Listening to music by Emma's Revolution last night has sparked an addendum to that solution. I realized that I can add conciousness raising to many parts of my life. I can imbue my life with meaning! When I got a job my mom suggested that I tithe part of my income. I grew up paying tithing and there is part of me that wants every little penny of my money, on the other hand one of the reasons I am most excited to have a regular income is so that I can contribute to my church and other organizations that are doing good work.
Some other ways I want to add meaning to the everyday parts of my life:
- Gifts! I love giving a gift that I know someone will love, but so often I am just dashing to get someone something. I hate that. Instead, I can give conciousness raising gifts that people will like. (So, not a certificate saying that I gave a donation in someone's name, except for the rare altruistic person who might like that.)
- Purchasing everyday items that are made with fair practices.
- Choosing uplifting media to surround myself with.
Saturday, April 01, 2006
Happy April Fool's Day!
I've redesigned my blog for Spring. I think it has the colors of spring and jeans in it. Happy Spring! Eventually I'd like to have a tree woman standing on the left side of the screen holding a lantern over the page. I want to rename my blog. Any ideas?
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