A Neutral Place

Everything's OK is an easily overlooked feeling.  It may not even be recognized as a feeling.  It means things are humming along; the next day will look like this day, a bit duller or a bit brighter but not threatening. Everything's OK is the place you want to get back to when bad things happen.

In most lives, whether quiet or exciting, a time arrives when loss prevails.  Then, you look back on what was and wish you had been more aware, had more thoroughly embraced what you had.  Time goes by, grief trails on and your greatest longing is to feel nothing.  That day, too, arrives.  You sit in your kitchen drinking coffee and hear a bird sing, no up or down feelings.  It's a neutral place, a haven until you move on and create a new series of ordinary days.  But with the realization that, Everything's OK, is sometimes the best feeling in the world.

The Cocktail Hour

We met at six.

You built the fire

and mixed the drinks.

Shaved ice and lemon slivers.

You liked to say,

"There's good news and there's bad.

Which do you want first, darling?"

Always I chose the good.

And then, one day, there was no choice.

The world shook and I spilt my drink.

Long gone now those pretty drinks.

Snow falls in the early dark.

The bells of St. Anne ring.

The fire hisses.

The news is neither good nor bad. 

Sick Day

Laid up with a cold, I've been watching old movies. Or, more truthfully stated, I've been watching any old thing. But I did manage to have a thought: I miss subtlety. As in its absence when two people meet, know each other for a very short time, rip-tear-pull each other's clothes off and slam their bodies together. This scene, meant to convey great passion, is so common in today's storytelling that it conveys nothing more than urgent sex. Which, of course, is a pretty powerful and wonderful feeling, but so too are the more subtle shades of passion and love. A look, a smile, a note can convey depths of feeling as interesting, or more so, than getting slammed up against a wall.

I also miss subtlety in politics. Or is that an oxymoron? Before us is a year of name-calling, hammering home the message and deliberate misunderstandings. No wit, no nuance; only the same drilled words endlessly repeated.

As does music, language has enough notes to express a wide spectrum of human feelings; from harsh/raw to delicate/subtle. When both ends of the spectrum are available, life is more interesting.

Today, I feel overexposed to the harsh/raw end. I'd like to hear someone shout his/her love from the mountain top without actually shouting at me. Also, since I'm having a cranky fit, I'm not fond of "hook-up" or "hottie." In love and politics, it would be nice to move somewhere beyond slam-bang.

Brevity

Often, the fewest words convey the most truth. Consider the last political discussion you heard. Did words clarify or conceal? And how about that argument you had with your partner that went on and on when a few words might have ended it: "I'm very critical. I'm sorry." Speaking the truth can, of course be difficult ; you might lose an election or a friend. But using words as camouflage also carries risks. You may be building a relationship on false intimacy. Or, if you are being dishonest with yourself, you may have feelings of alienation and confusion.

To know more, practice the simple truth. Try saying something important and true about yourself in one sentence. Something basic that shapes your life. When I asked Anita to do this she said, "I will never be abandoned." This was a decision made early in life that she was not aware of making until she spoke that sentence. The truth of it shows in the wide circle of friends she has acquired and in her interest in community. Carl's sentence was, "I will always be alone." Regardless of the people in Carl's life, loneliness is his core experience and it influences the depth and duration of his relationships.

If you had fun with that exercise, try this one. Tell an important story in your life in a sentence. Remember Hemingway's famous shortest, short story: For sale: baby shoes never worn.

And, though fearful of being wordy, I, nevertheless, have to quote Beckett's insight into Everyman's life: You must go on. I can't go on. I will go on. Talk about truth in brevity. Sums up a lot of days, doesn't it.

How to Be Eloquent

One of the challenges for those of us who came from, well, not such great families is that our role models and first teachers were, to some extent, damaged. Many people adopt the healthy strategy of vowing to be everything their mothers or fathers were or were not. For example, if you had a narcissistic mother, you might be bound and determined to focus on other people's needs. It might be a conscious decision you made as a young person or a behavioral pattern that's more habitual and unconscious. That would be a really good decision, right? Except in this example you run the risk of not developing a healthy narcissism---that is, the ability to recognize the importance of your own needs as well. To define ourselves in relation to our first teachers can limit our own individual development.

I was thinking about this after I came across a lovely quote from Joseph Campbell:

"It's a good thing to hang on to the myth that was put in when you were a child because it is there whether you want it there or not. What you have to do is translate that myth into eloquence, not just into the literacy. You have to learn to hear its song." 

Dinner Thoughts

A couple of weeks ago I was at a gathering, seated in a corner at a small, round table with a rabbit, a dog and a peacock. The rabbit was a timid, middle-aged woman, unremarkable except for a slight twitch and a tendency to blush. The dog was a stout fellow with an immobile face until he barked and his jowls shook. In possession of several higher degrees and heaps of knowledge, the peacock was intent on impressing the rabbit and the dog and me. The conflict between the dog and the peacock frightened the rabbit whose timidity was real and was also a way to control the angry dog and the superior peacock. I must say that the rabbit did elicit in me an urge to rescue but, wisely, I stayed out of it and remained engrossed in my bland plate of food and a quite good martini.

To some extent, we all have facades; to be known is to be vulnerable in a sometimes hostile world. But some facades are so thickly built that an inner self does not come through. This sets up a conundrum: People want to be known and they also do not want to be known. Wanting to be known while remaining hidden is at the root of much anxiety, alienation and loneliness. The rabbit, the dog and the peacock, if they desired to change (know themselves better) would have to, bit by bit, give up fear in the guise of compliance, anger and superiority. That would leave more room for love, the antidote to fear. Hopefully, it would also make for better dining companions.

Happy V

My Wild Heart

Folded six times square
and tucked up in my breast,
My wild heart leapt
when you walked into the room.

Here, take it.
Shake it out
and dry your tears.

Washed and returned,
I'll press it thin,
then fold it back
in case, in time,
you need it once again.

Shirty Stuff

You know that drawer in your kitchen where you put things that have no other place to go? Once in a while I clean it out and this morning was one of those days; I threw away an earring, a battery, scraps of paper, a tube of sticky stuff that oozed onto an old candy bar and screws and parts to something. The catch-all drawer is clean now but not for long. In life, perfect is always temporary.

This messy corner of my life got me thinking about how necessary it is to manage messy in relationships if friendship and love are important to you. I can't think of a single, beloved friend who doesn't have some pesky little behaviors, some self-centered thinking or off-putting politics, and without doubt, they would say the same about me. Same goes for partners.

When you are young and/or naive you may believe that honesty is the only way to go. Point out imperfections: Tell her she has to be punctual if she wants to be your friend, tell him he needs to get to the gym. You may get away with this to some extent but people have a way of never forgetting criticism. Mind you, I'm not talking about big issues that have to be discussed. I'm talking about little, shirty stuff. (Recently stumbled across "shirty". Means irritating) It's not so much about accepting a behavior. You know you are never going to like the way he laughs or that she is a bit stingy. It's more the skill of overlooking. Mentally putting the shirty stuff in a junk drawer and visiting it as little as possible.

Want to give a loved one a valentine gift this week? How about a drawer?

Sharp Turns

For one sweet summer, David and Brian had an intense love affair. David was crazy about Brian; spent all his spare time with him, gave him gifts, was interested in all aspects of his life. And then, one day, he wasn't. The best summer of Brian's life turned into the worst autumn of his life, and then the worst winter and spring. Nothing Brian did brought David back and he tried everything. David's single explanation for the break-up was, "You're just not worth it to me." Brian heard, "You're worthless."

After several sad years, Brian allowed himself to hear the very important, "to me" part of David's sentence and realized that what David said was true, and that David had a right to speak what was true for him. David had no desire to invest in any relationship beyond a first stage of romantic titillation. The words he spoke said everything about David, but because Brian had a fairly low opinion of himself, he readily misinterpreted David's statement. Funny thing about people, they like to be right, no matter the cost.

The sad part of this story for me is that it took so long for Brian to let himself know what had really happened. He hoped for a dream life with David but life went in a different direction. Instead of navigating the sharp turn, Brian took a long detour.

Sharp turns are part of life. Sometimes they are wonderful, sometimes awful. After one or two such turns, you learn to value the wonderful and, as much as possible, diminish the awful by not prolonging it. That is, you go through pain, not around it. You deal with the reality of what has happened and do the best you can to cope, to stay on the road. There are people who can help you do that. Pain confronted can be very intense but it can also lead to healing. Prolonged detours in the way of drugs, self-victimization and blaming, increase and prolong pain. Jung made the distinction between "healthy" and "neurotic" pain. Nobody wants either... but that's life.