Barometer

I am one of those people who's mood has a profound affect on others.  This may sound arrogant, but I believe that any person who chooses to openly engage with others, has this affect as well.

Today, a colleague of mine commented that it was 'good to see me smiling' and we went through an interchange about how important I was for his work day, as a reminder that there are optimistic people in our working world.  While he is a perpetual cynic, to hear that I had influenced (or coerced) a brief moment of satisfaction, or just less resignation, made me feel good. 

Like Spiderman, with great power, comes great responsibility.  If you, like me, are one of those people that other's use as a barometer for their comfort, happiness, and positive outlook, you have a responsibility to project contentment and well being, regardless of what is going on inside.  

How does one maintain a sense of optimism, good humor and joie de vivre even during trying times? 

1) Through an acceptance of non perfection. Taking this a step further, this acceptance should be in others, as well as oneself.  Like the serenity prayer, accept the things you can not change and then move on.

2) Through an amusing (if not pornographic) inner monologue-channeling one's inner Beavis and Butthead goes a long way in keeping a smile plastered on ones face.  I used this inner monologue in internal meetings especially.  I can't tell you how many times I have snickered to myself when I hear things that can be taken one of two ways (my mind goes right to the gutter!)  It keeps the juices flowing and makes even the most unpalatable subjects funny.

3) Through a respect for others and an understanding that they deserve to see the best of you, regardless of what your day has been like (it isn't their fault the elevator was packed, the subway was delayed, you have a sore throat, or your dog puked on your carpet).

4) Through a belief that the small things don't matter and for the big things (employment, health, family, friends),0ne should be profoundly grateful.  We live in a first world country, with ongoing access to excess.  What can we really be angry about?

5) Back to point number 2.  It is incredibly important to see the humor in one's world, but even more important to laugh at oneself.  To be a punchline (or the recipient) of a good joke is to bring a touch of happiness to others (even if it is at one's own expense).

So...

To sum it up

A dyslexic man walked into a bra.

Have a great day! 

Mother's Day

This is an unconventional ode to motherhood.

I am, but my own definition, a 'trained' mom.

I love my mother and we continue to have a rare and engaged relationship (but I wouldn't want to live with her!)  My former husband loved his mom to distraction until her untimely death. An old friend of mine lost his mom in high school and has never been the same. A great friend of mine misses his mom every single day . My husband can't talk to his mother and hasn't for years and that difficult and painful relationship has taken a deep toil on his psyche.  It is a complex and intricate relationship that we have with our moms.  They are (if you look to Hallmark for a definition) the  architect of our future.  The one who is responsible for growing, carrying, feeding us, as well as PTAing, Bake Sale 'ing, classroom mom'ing, etc etc.

Popular wisdom will say that a mother is the foundation that is all that is human kind.  That the womb carries the child and when that child is born, the bond between mother and child is stronger (and more visceral) then any emotion or connection in the universe. That we, a mother, will feel and grow that bond and that it is the most amazing thing that we can do as women.  It is our raison d'etre (a reason, for being).

What if, however, you didn't feel that way? What if, the difficulties of having a (and caring for) a baby, the lost identity, the lack of experience or 'natural feelings' make the role a challenge each and every day? How is one a real women? How can one be comfortable with the facade (pretend to be a mom)?  No one (not my mother, not all the books devoured during  pregnancies) said that it was okay to feel ambivalent about the monumental changes that motherhood brings to your life.  Your marriage changes (and for the most part, at least initially) not in a good way.  Your body (and body image) changes and certainly not in a good way, and your life as you know it become challenging in ways that, unless you have a child, you can not fathom.

But...and there is a huge but here...it isn't about having the juice box at the ready, the diaper bag fully, and correctly, packed (if it was, the kid police would have confiscated both children post haste.)

It is about how we love our children.   It supposed to be  unconditional, but I believe there are conditions to  in any relationship (I call them non-negotiables), and loving our children requires conditions.  Those conditions are the boundaries and structure we provide, the counsel we give them through our own mistakes, and the willingness to see our children not as extensions of ourselves, not as parasites on our life, but as unique individuals who have distinct and separate personalities from our own

Ultimately, as a 'trained mother' versus a natural mother, I have second guessed, double checked, circled back and today I can say with 98% certainty that if...

You want to be a mom, it is okay to redefine and restructure what it means. By my definition: iff you love and care for you child it doesn't matter if you don't use a manual, that there are no rule books and that Toys R US need never be on your radar.  That the 'material side' of parenting is less important and that there is absolutely no one right way...

Mothers, it is okay to no love being a mom.  What is most important is that you love those people in your lives that you happened to birth and offer them the opportunity to know the real you, regardless of whether or not you fit an ideal.

Happy Mother's Day.

The 'Guy" in the Glass

Many years ago a significant person in my life made some  interesting observations about how I look at other people, the world, and, finally myself.  At the time, after a number of 'heart to hearts', he gave me a poem.

Today brought back this conversation, and poem -- after I found myself sifting through my emotions when I  was hurt by a situation, that, to be entirely honest with myself, I should have expected, and not let it bother me.

Back over 15 years ago, my friend observed that I wanted to be liked, likable and like back so much that I would expend energy and emotion on people and situations that were not deserving of that effort.

 He believed that I looked at the world as a place to engage as many additional people as I could, attempt to forge meaningful and long term relationship and give of myself,  but that I was hurt when the people of my world didn't behave in the manner I expected.  My reaction was to work harder to find and fix these 'flaws' that made me 'unlikeable'.  Lastly, he pointed out that I apologized often for things that I need not be sorry for, that I worked too hard to please everyone else, and that I didn't 'see myself' like he (or others who knew me) saw me. That maybe I couldn't please everyone, but that was okay.

The poem has been known as 'The Man in the Mirror', 'The Man in the Glass', or if the author's son is the right source, 'The Guy in the Glass' (it was written by Dale Wimbrow (c) 1934).  Regardless of the title, the content resonated with me many years ago, and again, today. It takes a great amount of self confidence not to seek approval externally and publically from others and instead, mine that courage and determination oneself.  It is human nature to want to be recognized for effort, hard work, loyalty, dependability and steadfastness. The challenge with that desire is that you require others, who's motives you are not privy to, to validate or reject your accomplishments.

Note before you read it, 'pelf means wealth or riches, especially when dishonestly acquired.'

When you get all you want and you struggle for pelf,

and the world makes you king for a day,

then go to the mirror and look at yourself

and see what that man has to say.

For it isn't your mother, your father or wife

whose judgment upon you must pass,

but the man, whose verdict counts most in your life

is the one staring back from the glass.

He's the fellow to please,

never mind all the rest.

For he's with you right to the end,

and you've passed your most difficult test

if the man in the glass is your friend.

You may be like Jack Horner and "chisel" a plum,

And think you're a wonderful guy,

But the man in the glass says you're only a bum

If you can't look him straight in the eye.

You can fool the whole world,

down the highway of years,

and take pats on the back as you pass.

But your final reward will be heartache and tears

if you've cheated the man in the glass.

Alone

I have forgotten how much I don't like being alone.  I realized this acutely this weekend.

Back, when Robbie was just three, I started a journey of independence, and the education of how to be 'alone'. Every Sunday I would start a week without him, and while there was work and home, there were meals, down time and hours to fill that didn't include anyone but me.  I joined activities, I made friends who were in the same boat and I adapted to an independent life style. I started to enjoy solitude for what it was, and I not only survived those years, I grew and developed into the person I am today.

There was one thing that I never adapted to.  Dinner.  I would come home at the end of the day, maybe (if I was alone) hit the gym, take a walk, work out in Karate, but never, dinner.  It has become a joke that I believe Popcorn is a balanced meal, but most nights of the week, that is exactly what I did...I ate popcorn.  Usually reading a book, and if Robbie was there, he would read by my side.  Looking at the 6 foot 4 frame of Robbie today, it is hard to realize that about 2 feet of that was built on popcorn.

Ron traveled this week and I patched together enough food to keep Hannah from starving, but I didn't make dinner.  I can cook.  It is a skill I was taught early in life.  It isn't about the inability to actually put food on the table.  It goes deeper than that.

When I am alone, I feel, lonely.  I don't like that feeling, and the uncomfortable pit that sits in my stomach, replacing what would normally be a 'meal'.

This weekend Ron took Hannah out of town and it was just me, alone.  I did some work, I put away laundry, I sent out a couple overdue emails, did some banking, went to the gym, but mostly I had too much time to myself.  I kept thinking, I need to be 'doing' something.  I felt, distinctly, alone.  That I was somehow being punished.

Those times, back when Robbie was little, and I was raising him, trying to find my young way in the world, worried about making ends meet, my job, my future,...I hurt.  I hurt a lot. I was genuinely alone.  But I survived, and ultimately, I believe, thrived and gained, the knowledge (if not the desire) to be able to live on my own, if ever the occasion arose.

I realized today, that just because I am physically alone, doesn't mean that I will ever be as alone as I was back then, but, I also realized, that there are still scars and I need to learn, at some point, how to have dinner, alone. Once I accomplish that goal, I may be able to start facing that fear, and overcome the prevailing sense of loneliness that overtakes me time and time again.

Boredom

Not sure if boredom is the right term to be using to describe the state I constantly find myself battling.

Most people would not list boredom at the top of their list of fears in life.  They may say poverty, hunger, danger, death, or something equally as dire.  I fear boredom.  It is what drives me to rash decisions, bad choices and to overlook (or ignore) consequences of my actions.  It is a battle I have fought all my life.  Do I do something RIGHT NOW so as not to be bored???  I also list it as my fatal flaw (my number of divorces, the pain and cost associated with said divorces are testament to the fact that when I am bored, I take drastic measures).  I can't seem to help myself by taunting the world...come on, give me something new, some sort of challenge to overcome. Chaos???  Bring it ON!

Ron is aware my desire for new things, the requirement of constant stimulation.  I am not saying it doesn't drive him crazy (he is a creature of habit who sets the clock forward and never on an even number and who thrives on routine), I am just saying he has become painfully familiar with this semi constant state I seek to avoid.

I don't think it has to do with avoiding the mundane (not that I will not happily dodge doing the laundry, shopping, prepping and making meals etc.) so much as it has to do with a consistent need for a break in the routine.  An adventure, a story to tell, a daring act of bravery (or stupidity!) that I can share in pictures, words, and fantasize about (and ultimately embellish).

I wasn't bored the year we moved here (much) and I wasn't bored this summer during cottage season (much) and I am trying hard to not be bored on the week days as I live for ski weekends (they are pretty consistent and routine though), but I keep looking for the next new exciting challenge to take on, the next story to tell or the next fantasy to execute on (I like to dream then act!)

For now, I will seek adventure daily.  Join me?

Burning down the old

As I laid in bed last night trying to sleep, and failing miserably at it, I thought about the bed I was laying in (Hannah's bottom bunk because of Ron's snoring) and the room I was laying in (Hannah's pink, purple, silver, gold, red, rainbow, sparkles room), and the home I now lived in (our tiny condo in midtown) and realized there was a trend in my life.  That trend is the need, and want for constant new beginnings (and the complete 'burning down' of the old life).

Every 6 or 7 years (or less!) I have 'burned down' my old life and started a new one. This process of burning down includes, but is not limited to, the sale of an old and purchase of a new home, the purging of furniture, household items, clothes, weight, hair, husbands, and friends.  The changes include, but are not limited to redesign of appearance, job, style, family history and new skill sets.

For me, the comfort of routine has never existed.  I don't find solace in the 'every morning I do the same thing', or the familiarity of Taco Tuesday, the routine of a work out, or the consistency of a certain dinner item.  I like (and need desperately) to mix things up, to start fresh and new, to screw up and then rebuild.

I like to think that it is the active avoidance of boredom, the desire to be a 'human doing' versus a 'human being'.

When I grow up

Last night at dinner Ron, Robbie and I were having a conversation about 'what do I want to be when I grow up'.  It started with a 'water cooler' chat Ron had with a colleague about Robbie's summer architecture intern job search and moved to our dreams as children (Hannah's has moved from being a princess, a role that is has few open opportunities to being a pop star).  His colleagues son is currently going to be a soccer playing Navy Seal.

This conversation occurred independent of a conversation I had with my friend at lunch yesterday about 'what would I do if I had a choice?'  Her response, 'work with people', my response 'facilitate education in a non educational format' like TEDX.  What stops us from pursuing these dreams? It isn't like we want to be princesses, pop stars or Navy Seals.

This has me pondering the question, 'at what age do we stop believing we can be what ever we want to be' and start limiting our options?  I understand that there are certain physical and educational limiters (we can't all be Blue Angels or Victoria Secret Angels), but there are so many opportunities out there that require transferable skills--what is stopping us?

Erickson has stages of development and around age 35 we hit a stage (according to him) that is generativity versus self absorption or stagnation.  We are either incredibly productive, at our peak, or we are prone to stagnate.  Is this when we decide that we can't pursue our dreams to be an astronaut, firefighting pilot?

Today is the day to start executing on the dreams of 'what I will be when I grow up'

Dissembling

I like this word, dissembling.  It means to conceal ones emotions, feelings or beliefs.

We all, at different points in our lives dissemble.  It is a great way to 'not lie' and to focus energy away from one's inner thoughts.  It is when someone asks 'how are you?' and you say 'great' while internally you are worried, concerned, miserable or indifferent.  It is when you smile and bite your tongue when someone is talking negatively about something you feel passionate about but can't reveal that emotion due to political correctness (or lack there) of with colleagues or acquaintances.

There have been many great dissemblers over history.  Queen Elizabeth I of England comes to mind.  Her refusal to name an heir, her various marriage negotiations and her ability to say a lot with out saying anything kept her people and her court from fully understanding (and therefore opposing) her true goals.

Dissembling (versus lying) can be a useful tool in life.  It is the bridge between direct communication and blatant lying.  Better to obscure then to get caught in a web of deceit.

It is an art, dissembling.