life lessons

Where the light peeks through

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This ruined house - Shikibu
Everything is relative and perspective is what makes the difference. My mother dislikes sunny days. I love them. She likes cold weather, the hotter the better for me. I read fiction, mostly. I have a friend who reads non-fiction almost exclusively. Cats for me, dogs for a friend.

We’re all different and what matters to me may or may not matter to you. Doesn’t mean either of us is more or less than the other, just that we’re not the same. Though different, we’re all deserving of love and consideration. What matters is that we remain true to ourselves and do what’s right and best for us in our own lives.

You can’t see life from my perspective, and I can’t see it from yours. You are upset about the wind. I’m rejoicing in the moonlight. I can say to you, “Forget about the wind! Look at the moon!” You say to me, “Are you crazy? Who cares about the moon? I’m freezing!”

Both things are present; both are true. Which is the “best” way to think about that situation?

It’s all in the perspective. We are each of us entitled to our view of the world. No one sees things in exactly the same way I do. I can tell you what I think and feel, and you can share your perspective with me, but neither of us can get inside the other’s head and really know what the view is like from there.

This is something I’ve struggled with all of my life, especially with my mother. When I was young, I simply adopted her view of the world in order to be accepted. I learned early on that she wasn’t at all interested in my view, and if I made the mistake of sharing my thoughts or feelings about anything, she was quick to explain all the ways in which my view was incorrect. Period.

I was just wrong. All the time. So I simply dissolved into an extension of her. It took a long time and therapy to distinguish myself finally from her, and to believe that the way in which I perceived things, including myself, was equally as true as her view. I’m not wrong, just different.

We’re not the same person. She’s not wrong, and neither am I.

Living with her again these last 7 years has certainly put this principle to the test. It’s a challenge everyday for each of us to accept the other as she is. There is lots of common ground, and we meet there and enjoy each other’s company most of the time.

Every so often, though, we unintentionally prod old bruises and one of us is tempted to think of the other as the villain and lash out in retaliation. Suddenly I’m 6 years old again, only now I’m not afraid to speak up for myself. I have to remember, though, that she’s not a villain; she is simply a human being doing the best she knows how to do – always was – and that ultimately she wants the same things I do: to be loved, to feel safe, and to be happy.

When I see her that way, with compassion, everything changes and we’re back on common ground again. We are the same, and we are different. Both things are true.

Nobody’s wrong, and no one is to blame. We’re different, and we’re both okay as we are.

We’re all okay, just as we are. I feel the wind, you see the moon.

It’s all good.

In the middle

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Life is not so much about beginnings and endings as it is about going on and on and on. It is about muddling through the middle.

This has been a good week and I’m enjoying life in the middle. Not really muddling all that much, though, and that’s what’s made it feel so good. I have felt comfortable this week resting in what is – who I am, what I’m doing, and the way in which life is unfolding in every moment. Content to be present and able to welcome life as it comes. It wasn’t a kidney stone week, and that helped, for sure, but it wasn’t easy-peasy, either.

It was just regular life – some happy things, a couple of scary things, some annoying things, some sad things, and one or two downright disheartening things. Nothing extreme on either end of the spectrum, just the regular stuff, and a little bit of Spring thrown in to give the heart a leg up to start.

Doesn’t happen all that often, and I know it won’t last that long, but for the last few days I’ve felt steadfast. Ready. Willing to go on. Hopeful, even, that somehow everything will work out for the best – even if it’s not what I want, whatever happens may be just what I need – if I just get out of my own way and just let things be.

That’s not easy, and I’m not usually very good at it, but this week it was like a gift. It’s been effortless. I’m grateful for it cuz the week before that nearly sent me spiralling into the abyss. I was muddling through, frustrated with the again-ness, beating my head against the wall of familiar intractable problems – at work, at home, with the house and my health – and so so so discouraged.

I kept getting out of bed and facing the days, though, getting through, and somehow, now I’ve gotten over that wall. I can’t honestly say I know what changed, but Tuesday it was all just different. I was different. I surrendered. Instead of giving up, I gave in. Instead of apathy, acceptance. Another layer of resistance peeled away; scraped off by the abrasion of life.

So I’m reminded that all I have to do is show up. Be present. Muddle through the middle, as Anna Quindlen says. What matters is the middle. Rest easy in the knowledge that everything passes, and then comes again. That’s just the way it is. There is only now, and me, and what is. There is no way to live life so perfectly that there are no problems. Somehow I keep thinking that I’m going to get to a place where everything is all right all the time. Rationally I know there is no such place and that there is no way to get there. There is still a part of me that’s not convinced, though, so there’s more to learn.

My challenge is to welcome the problems as lessons, the again-ness as the opportunity to learn them well; to reach a deeper level of understanding and acceptance over and over again. That’s why I’m here, and that’s what’s best for me, even though it doesn’t always seem so.

I’m probably not ever going to fully accept that, but I think I’m getting better, and this week I had it knocked. Next week I’ll probably trip all over myself again and fall flat on my face. Whatever. I know I’m doing the best I can, and that my intention is on track, and that I’m heading in the right direction. That’s all that’s necessary.

Just muddling through until I get to a good place to rest for a while. I’m happy to be here.

Now.

 

 

 

Dream a little dream

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Last night I had a vivid dream that has stayed with me all morning. I’ve been trying to determine what it was trying to convey to me, cuz it was so clear and memorable. I don’t usually remember dreams. I wake most often with heart-clenching anxiety over dreams I can’t remember. So this one was unusual.

I had just moved into a new house – a mobile home, one that I lived in for 12 years, actually – and I was so happy! I was unpacking and setting all my stuff up just so, just the way I wanted it to be in my new home and feeling so lucky to have this great place.

I was in the bedroom putting clothes in the closet and singing, when I became aware of voices in the back yard. I looked out and there were 10 or so people out there, kind of rough, backwoods kind of people, mostly men. Two of them were starting to cut down a tree and another one was digging a hole.

I ran outside and on my way to the backyard around the front of the house, I could see that they had laid traps – the kind that are like jaws with big teeth – on chains all across the front lawn. I ran around to the back and yelled, “Stop! What are you doing? This is my house!” They all turned to look at me with blank stares for a couple seconds, and then went back to what they were doing.

I ran over to one of the men who had a long white beard and a huge halo of messy white hair and asked him what they were doing there. It took him a long time to answer, and then he said, “You can’t have this all to yourself. This is for everyone.”

I was devastated. I had been so happy! Then I had the thought that I have had quite often in my life – whatever I want, whatever I love, whenever I’m happy, if I enjoy it too much I’ll lose it.

Then, still in the dream, I relaxed. Not in a defeated way, but in an accepting way. I went back in the house.

Okay.

What they were doing outside was not really affecting me inside. I had not lost anything, as long as I was in the house. I had been happy inside, doing my thing. Singing. My space, my stuff, my voice, my self. Outside was a bunch of stuff that I don’t like or approve of or support, but that I have absolutely no control over. I was fine until I looked outside. The traps were right outside the door of my house.

And it isn’t true that I lose everything that makes me happy. Sometimes it true, yes. Cuz that’s just life. Sometimes things work out, sometimes they don’t. But I’m learning that the more something I want is based on something that someone else is doing, or being, or having, the less likely it’s going to work out for me the way I would like it to. 

Sometimes I let myself down and that’s heartbreaking, but it’s also something I have control over, for the most part, and something I can change. I can stop doing that. I can show up for myself.

What I can’t do – THE THING THAT GETS ME IN TROUBLE ALL THE TIME – is count on other people to show up for me. Thinking that it’s necessary for other people to behave as I want them to for me to be happy or safe or whatever sets me up for disappointment EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.

Cuz other people aren’t me. They have different desires and goals and paths to happiness or fulfillment. Sometimes their desires and goals and paths will coincide with mine. We can be together, work together for a common purpose, support each other. Human life is a communal experience and finding common ground is crucial to our survival and purpose.

However, we can’t be each other. We’re all entitled to our own stuff. Ultimately, we all have to follow our own path, do what’s right for us alone, show up for ourselves, stand in our own integrity. And  I think what the dream was trying to teach me was that it’s not up to me to decide if someone else’s sense of who they are or what they should be doing in this life is right or wrong. I can look at them and decide that who they are or what they’re doing is not who or what I want to be or do, but beyond that, it has nothing to do with me, even if it affects me.

You can’t have this all for yourself. This is for everyone.

The only thing I can do is take care of myself if I’m hurt, look away or leave if what they’re doing is too painful to watch, express my view if I really feel I need to do that, while being fully mindful that it probably won’t change anything, even though it might make me feel better.

So really being happy comes down to minding my own business. That seems easy, but it’s not, is it? Simple, but not easy, as is true of so many things in this wonderful and interesting life. This is not the same as self-absorption – quite the opposite – it’s simply the realization that it’s not all about me, except for what is inside me.

I’ve been circling around this concept for a while now. It’s a theme in what I’m reading and thinking about and experiencing, and I think this dream was my mind’s way of tying it all up with a little bow and handing it to me. I love it when things work out like that. Helps me to feel supported, even though I don’t have a clear sense of where that support comes from. It’s still good to know it’s there.

So a good day in Earth School. Of course, the final exam is the next time I encounter someone who’s doing something that bugs me.

I wonder how I’ll do?

The law won

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I love you

I was astonished to hear about the college admissions scam, in the way I’m always slightly surprised when I remember that some people who seemingly have everything are willing to risk it all to have more. It just doesn’t make sense to me.

I’ve thought about it a lot in the past 2 days since the story broke, and what I really can’t wrap my head around is why the parents, especially the celebrities, didn’t think they’d get caught? Why would you risk going to prison for something that could have been accomplished in other ways? Spend money on a tutor to help your kid bring his grades up, for example. Spend your money on a better prep school. Instill in your child the idea that school is important and that you have to study to get into a good college. Teach them that money can’t buy everything and that some things are worth working hard for.

What it all really comes down to is privileged people thinking they’re entitled to something the rest of us aren’t. Not a new concept in the US, certainly, especially considering the person who currently holds the highest office in our government, but as Americans, that’s just not the way we’re supposed to do things. We’re all equal, right?

Right?

Ask your black neighbor if they’re surprised by this turn of events. Ask a poor child or any person of color, in fact, if they’re surprised by the assumptions of wealthy white people that they matter more then the rest of us.

I doubt it.

I’m not surprised by the attitude – I’ve encountered it personally many times living in a resort community most of my life – but as I said above, I am surprised at the level of risk involved for what seems to me to be a small reward. One day you’re a fairly wealthy actress/celebrity living the dream life, and the next the FBI is at your door. Prison awaits you, and you know that, but you risk it all and go ahead and break the law to get your kid into a particular college?

Wait a minute…what?

Exactly. You had it made and you blew it. Accept that your kid was too lazy, or not a good enough student to get the grades to get in. Accept that you’re like everybody else. Accept that life happens to you in the same way it happens to every other human being on the planet – there are consequences to your actions, and not everything is going to go your way. Life will humble you sooner or later. There will be a reckoning.

I guess maybe you don’t understand that if life has, indeed, gone mostly your way cuz your parents or you paid your way through the hard stuff. But just because karma hasn’t caught up with you yet, doesn’t mean it’s not going to. Sooner or later it’s going to have its way with you and you’ll find out that it’s true for everybody. Karma is an equal opportunity experience. It doesn’t discriminate. It is though, I believe, especially tough on people who don’t quit while they’re ahead.

I have compassion for all involved, cuz they’re going to pay a big price for their cluelessness, and their kids are going to pay an even larger price in some ways. The humiliation is epic. This is an opportunity for self-examination and growth, though, so if they recognize that they will ultimately benefit, but it’s going to be tough sledding until they get to that point. It’ll be painful and that’s too bad, because it really didn’t have to happen, but I suppose most crime is that way.

But I also have to say that it gives me hope to know that laws still matter in this country, even for the wealthy and celebrated, and that karma works. It does my heart good to know that there is order in the universe, after all. Not always, but sometimes, and for me right now, that’s enough. Cuz for 2 years I’ve been watching someone in power run roughshod over our democracy and our laws and it’s made me quite sad and feeling hopeless about the future of this country.

But this week, our laws worked, and someone who thought they were above the law was proven wrong. That makes me happy and hopeful that we might just survive as Americans and as humans going forward.

This week the law confirmed that we are all equal in this country still, and that is as it should be. Thank goodness.

 

Simple, not easy

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“You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection.” ~Buddha

So Valentine’s Day was last week, and everyone’s feeling warm and fuzzy about romantic couple love, but I think just as important and maybe even more important, in that I don’t think you can really make a relationship work without it – is the love you show yourself.

It took me a long time to get this. Growing up, my mother and other important adults were critical of me so I got the message that I was unworthy of love, and that message stuck in my head for a long time. I got other messages, including those on TV and in magazines, and from other people throughout my life that reinforced the original message, so I had an idea about myself that I felt had been proven over and over again.

There is something wrong with me.

50 years later I look back and I see that nope, nothing wrong with me at all. Never was. I was different from other people, certainly, but only in the way that we are all different from each other in our particular ways of being in the world. Just being myself, walking my path, trying to figure life out just like everyone else. No more or less deserving of love and compassion than anyone else.

It’s a shame it took so long for me to get that, but I have now, and for that I’m grateful. I push myself to do things that mean something to me, including spending time with people who are important to me, but all the goals and ideas I had about what my life would be like – should be like – have been replaced by only one:

Appreciate and experience as fully as possible every single moment of my life, and offer the best of what I have within me to myself and others.

That’s it. Simple, but not easy, I assure you. It’s a process, and while I’m getting a little better at it over time, I’ll never be “finished.” Two things have helped a lot:

  • I’ve developed a mindfulness practice, including meditation, in the last few years that helps keep me grounded and appreciative of what’s here now.
  • I check in with myself and how I’m feeling – what my body is telling me – before agreeing to do anything outside of work or caring for my mother – some things I say “yes” to cuz they’re what I want to do or need to do to stay true to myself, and/or support my mental and physical well-being. Other things I say “no” to for the same reasons, or simply because I don’t have time or energy and I don’t do well when I’m overwhelmed.

Again: simple, but not easy. As a recovering people-pleaser, saying “no” is especially difficult. I think of it as a muscle I’m exercising and making stronger – just as I’m building muscle in the gym 3 times a week. It’s good for my health, and my longevity, and it’s worth it, even though sometimes it’s uncomfortable.

Throughout my life people have taken me for granted, taken advantage of my willingness to do almost anything or become almost anyone in order to be liked, and not really taken much notice of who I really am or what I want. That’s fine, really, as I didn’t always know, either, and that was more about them than it was me, anyway. Those people have exited my life now, most because they chose to, but some because I pushed them out the door and closed it.

I have a couple of really good friends now – folks who truly know me and like me – and I don’t worry about the rest anymore. Life is not a popularity contest. Further, I’ve come to realize that ultimately, the only person I really need in my life is me. I’m the only one who’s been there the whole time. No one knows me as well as I know myself. Therefore, no one can love me as well as I can love myself. All of me – the good, the bad, and the really unattractive – it’s all there for a reason, and it’s all deserving of love and compassion.

I’m still learning – I hope I will be until my last breath – and I’m still struggling. I probably always will be, cuz I’m less than perfect. (Pro tip: we all are.) I’m completely okay with that, though, cuz the alternative is really unpleasant – trying to be “perfect” and being stuck in people-pleasing, self-loathing hell as I was for so many years. In so many ways I feel reborn everyday lately, cuz so many things seem new and fascinating and wonderful to me, including myself.

What a joy it is to be alive and to experience all that this precious life has to offer for as long as we can! Nature impresses me. Art and poetry and music impress me. Laughter impresses me. Sometimes other people, but mostly not so much. We all have something to offer, me included. None better, none worse. All impressive, none impressive. Everybody just getting on as best they can. That’s enough.

It’s going to take all of us, giving our best, impressing ourselves, offering the best that’s within us, uniquely ours, to solve some of the problems we, as a global community, are faced with. It starts with me, and with you, and it’s not at all about who has the best stuff, or the best job, or the slimmest waist, perfect kids, how many things we can do at one time, or whatever. That’s not what’s impressive about any of us.

It’s what’s inside. Look there. See what you find.

Are you impressed?

Dispatch from the other side

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I struggle a lot with my expectations of people. I’ve written about it here before. It’s an ongoing thing; one of the lessons I’ve grappled with since I was very young.

When I was young and people let me down, I assumed it was my fault. I thought there was something about me – I didn’t know what it was – that alienated people and I accepted that as fact. I grew up believing I was unlovable. Again, I didn’t really know why, but I took my cues from the way important people treated me – my mother, other adults, kids, and the reality that my birthmother gave me away. That seemed like proof-positive to me that I was indeed, unlovable, certainly unwanted.

I felt that way well into my 40s. Less so, perhaps, but when people treated me badly or let me down I just chalked it up to me being hard to love. I’ve lost enough friends to populate a small town. It got so it wasn’t really even a surprise anymore, just another loss. My lot in life.

My fault.

Three years of therapy and 10 years on some powerful drugs went a long way to convince me otherwise, and alleviated the depression that went along with those thoughts and feelings. I’m perhaps not the easiest person to love, but I’m not unlovable, either. No one is.

We are all worthy of love.

So now I realize that it’s not just me, but my expectations are still too high. I keep getting tripped up by them, even though I know better. Because people let each other down. That’s just what happens. As the young, mostly unhelpful, but very nice policewoman said to me last weekend:

Most people really only think about themselves.

She’s right. I would like that not to be true – about myself and other people – but I think that’s really it. It isn’t so much that we don’t care about other people – we do. In theory, and sometimes even in practice. It’s just that for the most part – for whatever reason – we don’t go out of our way for others, even people who matter to us.

Mostly.

I can think of a couple of situations in my life in which someone rose to the occasion for me and really tried to make a difference. I’d like to think I’ve done the same for others a few times, at least.

Mostly, though, we just plod along, and try to get through on our own as best we can. At least, that’s been my experience. I can think of quite literally hundreds of situations over the years in which people have let me down so completely that the thud reverberated for weeks in me. It goes the other way, too. I can think of times I let people down, especially when I was deep in the abyss of depression. No one’s perfect, and when it comes right down to it, we are all fundamentally alone.

It’s become increasingly clear to me over the years that being disappointed really has nothing to do with my friends, or co-workers or people in general; it’s all about my expectation that I should matter to anyone other than myself.

That’s the mistake I keep making. And here’s why:

I’m a people-pleaser. Always have been because of the way I grew up, mentioned above – always trying to figure out how to get people to like me/love me. Scanning every word, every movement, every expression for a hint at how to give them what they want so that maybe they’ll like me. A chameleon, changing shape and color to be pleasing to the person I was trying to connect with.

I was astonished as an adult to realize that other people don’t do that, for the most part. Some do, most don’t. No one cares what I want or need, at least not to the extent I’d like them to, even people I’m close to. They’re not trying to please me in the same way that I’m killing myself for them. While I’m knocking myself out to figure out just the right birthday or Christmas gift, or rushing to answer an email or get a card out to someone for an occasion, or worrying myself sick over why I’m not hearing from someone for a while, they’re just getting on with whatever. Not thinking about me, not worrying about me, even if they care about me. They put themselves first.

Imagine that.

I alienate people cuz I expect more than that.  I really think it’s just that simple. I kill friendships by caring too much, trying too hard. I wear people out, and I must have seemed very needy until I finally wised up. Now I think I’ve gone in the other direction, actually.

I’ve been thinking about the metaphor of the snow “wall” in my driveway (I love me a good metaphor!) and I think that’s what it represents to me – the ways in which I’m cut off from other people, mostly through my own choices and life circumstances in the last few years, but not entirely. A few people in my life have had a part in erecting that wall from their side.

Whatever.

I’m doing better at pleasing myself and worrying less about pleasing others, except when it pleases me to please someone I care about. I still get caught up in expectations, and I still get let down when I least expect it, but that’s probably just the way it’s always going to be. That’s just who I am. An idealist. And that’s what being vulnerable is all about, isn’t it? Keeping our hearts open is risky, cuz we can be hurt, but it’s also the only way to connect and heal the rifts caused by life.

It’s the only way to melt the wall. 

It won’t happen quickly, but it will happen. Life goes on. This too shall pass. We’re all just doing the best we can, including me. What’s called for is forgiveness; not blame, not anger, not shame or retribution. Just forgiveness for our broken humanness.

As with everything else, at least for me, it’s a work in progress.

Mirror, mirror

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Failures abound in my life. When I look back I see plenty of them. The successes are not so easy to identify. They don’t exactly jump right out at you. In fact, there aren’t many of them, and they’re pretty well hidden because they weren’t as big or as public as the failures.

I accept that the mistakes and failures were wholly mine, and the successes, such as they were, have usually been the result of direction and/or assistance of someone a lot wiser than me. I’m not necessarily proud of my life, but I’m not ashamed of it, either. It just is what it has been; I can’t go back and change it. I wouldn’t be who I am if I had made different choices or taken a different path; which, ultimately is kind of circular thinking, cuz I made those choices and have walked this path because of who I was at any given point in my life on the way to becoming the me I am now.

Ow.

I think you have to be high to really get your mind around concepts like that, and I don’t do that anymore. So I’ll just let that sink in a while…

But here I am, and in this moment, everything is as it should be. I believe that. Not perfect, but right. Not that I was destined to end up here in this place, or in these circumstances, but I don’t think you can “miss” the life you need unless you are totally clueless, and I don’t believe I am. A friend from college recently wrote, “You always had a presence of mind and spirit that attracts me to all similar people…and there aren’t that many!” I was really touched by that, and it made me realize that I couldn’t have and shouldn’t have lived my life too much differently. The outer circumstances could have been different, of course, but the “inner” circumstances have been the same for a long time.

For better or worse, I am and have always been, 100% me.

I have needed the particular lessons I have learned presented to me in a particular way, and I am grateful to have had the opportunity to walk my path, by myself, without significantly damaging anyone else along the way. Looking ahead, I can see that the journey must continue this way, as well. There will be more failures, more mistakes, and few successes. Maybe none at all. Because I take the successes for granted, but the failures get my attention. Life has humbled me, and that’s a good thing, because I have gained a respect and appreciation for it that I would have lacked otherwise.

I value independence over connection. That has always been true. It was a problem when I was younger, because it was assumed I would get married and have children, and the older I got without ticking those items off the to-do list, the more worried people around me got. But nobody asks me why I’m not married anymore, and lots of people don’t have children in my generation. I was never very good at being young, and now I’m not anymore. I’m a bit past the middle of my life, presumably, and I’m really happy to be here; where most people have the good sense and the courtesy not to second guess my choices.

I’m trying to learn to find some middle ground, and I’m learning to appreciate the connections I have now, though they are fewer than in the past, they are richer. I’ve been a good daughter and a good employee. Sometimes I get everything right, sometimes I miss the mark completely. I keep trying, though; I keep getting up and going on.

Over and over again.

That’s who I am. Someone I can count on. Someone others can count on. A person of integrity. Someone who has not let life defeat her.

And that’s who I need to be. That’s all I need to be. No one else. Not who anyone else thinks I should be.

When you look in the mirror, who do you see? Do you see yourself, as you really are, or do you see someone who falls short of who you think you should be? Are you looking in your own mirror, or someone else’s? Whose reflection is that looking back at you? Your mother? Your grandfather? Your best friend? Someone you follow on Instagram?

Make sure you’re seeing you for who you really are. All of who you really are. Look hard and really see that person. Celebrate yourself, all your trials and successes. All the joy, all the pain. Look in the mirror and congratulate beautiful you for making it this far. For keeping on, despite the setbacks and the pain. Despite what someone else thought or did to try to convince you otherwise.

Again and again and again and again. 

I, myself

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All acts and facts are a production of spiritual power,
the successful ones of power which is strong enough;
the unsuccessful ones of power which is too weak.
Does my behavior in respect of love effect nothing?
That is because there is not enough love in me.
Am I powerless against the untruthfulness and lies
which have their being all around me?
The reason is that I myself am not truthful enough.
Have I to watch dislike and ill-will carrying on their sad game?
That means that I myself have not laid aside small-mindedness and envy.
Is my love of peace misunderstood and scorned?
That means that I am not yet sufficiently peace-loving.  –Albert Schweitzer

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I would love to believe that my life begins and ends within the boundaries of my skin; that I’m connected to nothing and no one, and that I bear no responsibility for anyone other than myself.

But that’s just not the way the world works. For better or worse, we’re all part of the same big world. We’re all connected in so many ways to each other and everything else on this planet.

There are ways of being in the world that do not contribute to its wholeness or well-being. I would like to crawl up into my head and say, “Not me!”

I’m doing it right. It’s the others. It’s them over there. They’re screwing everything up. And they should have to experience the consequences of their misguided, stupid, irresponsible, thoughts and actions. Not me. Not my responsibility. I’m doing it right.

But it is me.

As long as anyone on the planet is hungry, the responsibility is mine. As long as children are abused, the responsibility is mine. As long as other living things are devalued and not respected, the responsibility is mine. As long as the planet is being abused, the responsibility is mine. As long as anyone is homeless, unable to pay the heating bill, unable to get the drugs they need, unable to be educated, supported, loved, cherished, the fault is mine.

Because I am you. And her. And them. And us.

All of us. We. This world, and all the two-legged, skinned, finned, furred, feathered and green things in it. Whatever is lacking is whatever is missing in me. And I’m the one who has to fill those holes.

It begins with me. And until I really understand that, I’m not doing it right, after all.

Frugal living

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wine + cheese night

A couple of years ago a friend and I were in an antique shop. She collects miniature tea sets, and they had a couple; one in particular that she really liked. I suggested she should buy it, and she said, no, it’s not good to get everything you want.

I think of that statement quite often. It’s one of two things in my life that someone said to me that changed the way I thought about something instantly. It’s not good to get everything you want. Wow. I came across a quote by Bertrand Russell this week, in which he claimed pretty much the same thing: “To be without some of the things you want is an indispensable part of happiness.”

I think it`s absolutely true about stuff. It is human nature to become spoiled by instant material gratification. I think much of what is wrong with American capitalist culture stems from consumerism, and the ease with which those with money can get stuff. We lack appreciation for the way things are made, and for the people who made them. I definitely see it in young people in my small, generally quite well-off community, and the way they take for granted easy access to instant communication, computers, cars, clothes, etc. If material needs are met too easily, human beings tend to become bored and unappreciative of the stuff they have; always wanting more, more, more.

What about less touchable things, like how you’d like something to play out, or how you’d like someone to treat you? Those kinds of expectations trip me up all the time. I find my mind wandering off into the future, conjuring up scenarios about an event or situation. How I think it’ll all go and how wonderful (or not) I expect it to be. Or I think I know how someone will react to something, or what they’ll do, or even who they are.

It’s silly, really, that I would still be allowing myself to indulge in these little fantasies. Certainly if life has taught me anything, it’s been that I can expect nothing. Nothing ever turns out the way I think it will (for better or worse). People are hardly ever who I think they are (for better or worse). In fact, the more I expect a certain outcome or action, the less likely it is to be anything even remotely resembling what I was expecting or hoping for.

All situations teach us. What we learn is sometimes dubious, but we learn, nonetheless. Have I been made stronger by my unmet expectations, or do they debilitate me? I think the answer is: both. I have been forced to look within myself for what I need to keep going, and that’s a good thing. I can take care of myself, and I’ve learned to be a person I can count on. Definitely good.

And sometimes I am surprised. Several wonderfully surprising things happened in the last few days; things I wasn’t expecting, or even imagining. Four people went out their way to do nice things for me. It made up for the myriad ways my expectations fell short, and then some.

So, an indispensable part of happiness? Yes, I think so. I aspire to live frugally on surprise. Expect nothing. I think ultimately all I can hope for is keep striving to be the person I need. Situations change, people change. Nothing in this life is static. I can count on nothing but my own ability to adapt, so that had better keep getting stronger. Counting on anything external – including other people – for one’s own well-being is certain disappointment.

I’d rather be surprised! It’s not easy to let go of those expectations. It requires staying in the moment – being fully with what’s happening now – with no thought of what’s past or expectation of the future. No small thing. It’s an arduous journey, but worth the effort.

Note to self: Go slow. Take snacks. Rest when necessary. Pay attention. Welcome everything.

We’ll get there sooner or later. All is well.

 

Shine a light

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christmas-lights-body

On my way to work this morning I passed a semi-truck with Christmas lights strung across the grill and the windows of the cab. It was still dark and they were wonderful – so colorful and sparkly. So unexpected. The truck could be from almost anywhere, (we were on a US highway), and headed who knows where, but for one second, our paths crossed, and the driver, who I will never meet, put a smile on my face, because he took the time to do something fun and offered it to the world as a gift.

I love that! I like people like that. I would like to be like that. I am lucky to have friends who are like that, and that spontaneity, sense of humor/fun and generosity of spirit is exactly what I love about them most.

People often disappoint me. I get discouraged when I make the mistake of reading the news or hanging out on Facebook or Twitter too much. Or when I overhear a situation in which someone is being treated without respect, or bullied, or thought to be “less than” for some reason. Or when I encounter someone – usually in traffic – who appears to think only of themselves, and in doing so treats the people around them as though their needs don’t matter. There is no shortage of reported instances – especially in the United States lately – in which people are less than kind to each other.

This is when I start thinking of other people as “them” or “those people.” Of course, I know there is only US – ALL of us. There is no “them.” We are all human and sometimes wonderful, sometimes horrible. It’s a package deal. It’s hard to remember that sometimes, though.

I have to take a step back and think: do I do all those things I listed in the paragraph above? Absolutely. Not intentionally, at least as an adult, but I do, and that’s true of most of us, probably. I am the least perfect person I know.

Life is hard, and harsh and sometimes we humans buckle under the weight of life and act less kindly or patiently than we hope to. Sometimes I say or do things that make me cringe, and I disappoint myself, cuz that’s just not who I want to be. In the heat of the moment, though, especially if I feel threatened, some ugly black thing slithers out of me before I know it.

Perhaps that’s the worst part about being human. It’s in most of us, I wager: that ugly black assemblage of past hurts and slights and mistreatment. It’s so disappointing. With a few notable exceptions, I guess, we all have our moments. And I’ll bet even Mother Theresa and Ghandi had those moments at some point in their lives, too. They were human, and it comes with the territory.

But, there’s so much more.

The best part of being human – putting Christmas lights on your truck to spread some cheer, just because you can – is in us, too. We’re all trying our best in difficult circumstances, but sometimes we do better than that. Humans are creative and loving and kind, too. This time of year, especially, there are instances of the best humans can be and that’s heartening.

I’m not any of those “best” things often enough anymore, though, and seeing those lights this morning helped me realize that. Decades battling depression and the stress of the last few years have dimmed that light in me.

I accept that I’m a work in progress, and I have to remember that about everyone else, too. We’re all just doing the best we can, but sometimes someone does something good that reminds us that we can do even better.

My lights are dim, perhaps, but they’re not out completely, and I’m going to make it my goal this next year to figure out how to get the spark going again. We can all do it. Give expression to that fun, loving, creative part of ourselves and see what comes out. Figure out what we have to offer the world and give it freely.

Whatever I come up with probably won’t make a bit of difference in the world, but I hope it makes a difference in me. I hope it takes me another step closer to the person I’d like to be. I hope, too, that whatever I have to offer has the impact on someone else that the anonymous truck driver had on me this morning. In that way maybe we can change the world, one person at a time, one light at a time.

Let it begin with me.