harmony
January 16, 2012 § Leave a comment
Recently, my little girl was invited to a sleepover birthday party for a friend. My heart stuttered over the word sleepover in much the same way it has each milestone; an emotional hiccup as I accept new acts of independence. This was to be my daughter’s first evening away from family and for all my maternal fussing, I knew that she would do well; confidant and adventurous there was no doubt enthusiasm would guide her through the experience.
Upon arrival the girls gathered close for a picture and I paused to note something greater than my daughter’s milestone. Nestled hip to hip the little girls were a rainbow of diversity. My daughter stood amidst new friends completely unconcerned by their differences and equally comfortable in her sense of self.
A beautiful moment of harmony; friends at peace with and accepting of one another, joined in celebration and play. I could not have dreamed a more perfect experience for my daughter’s first evening away from home and family. A microcosm of her world infused with friendship and kindness, diversity and acceptance.
distress signal
October 28, 2011 § Leave a comment
I am uncomfortable asking for help. Instead, I joke in an effort to make light of a problem, deny I need help, or escape the reality of a difficult moment in a book or with busy work. This week, in the company of friends, I gave voice to distress; I sent out a signal for help. Friends guided me towards a place of strength.
The realization that I am uncomfortable asking for help came a few years ago when I was in preterm labor with my daughter. As I lay in bed, unable to care for myself or my family, I was forced to prioritize our needs and seek help. Asking and accepting were exercises in humility. I could not use humor or denial to escape the reality of my needs.
Recently as I absorb my son’s struggles, feelings of fear, uncertainty, and helplessness have left me sad, angry, confused, and overwhelmed. Despite my best efforts to guide my son, I feel lost; uncertain if I have a right to ask for help for myself. In an act of grace friends taught me to ask for and accept help.
Clarity came early in the week when I met with a friend that speaks openly about both personal and health challenges. Without shame and with genuine feeling she shares openly her conflict. Listening I found strength in her vulnerability, unhindered by apology. My friend’s recognition of her own challenges and fears gave me strength to look directly at my own.
I believe difficult truths are revealed in stages. Soon after listening to one friend’s sharing, fate gifted me time with an old friend that gave me strength to embrace vulnerability and share my fears. I let the words tumble freely accepting my own helplessness in the security of another’s care.
Awareness and openness lead to a moment of guidance. A third friend absorbed one of my challenges and lent me wisdom from her experiences. I collected the knowledge like moments of serenity.
Yesterday I sat with another friend, named my problem, admitted I am finding my way, and then let go of trying to project a sense of strength. My openness was met with compassion. I let my worries sit with us in silence; I did not ignore them, mock them, or pretend them away. I gave them sun and air, looking at them clearly in the light of day.
I am learning to accept vulnerability and to celebrate fortitude in the healing place of friendship. Thank you to each of the women who recognized my distress signal.
heart song
October 26, 2011 § Leave a comment
Once in a blue moon we meet someone who hears the song in our heart. The recognition is quiet, but the affirmation resonates across years. The intricate language of unspoken thoughts finds a voice in friendship.
I don’t remember the beginning, the becoming, I only remember the music is louder when we’re together. I feel understood, moods translated across memories. The years fall away and my laugh is centered in the spirit of a young girl untethered by the titles of marriage and motherhood.
Stories of moments unshared from college, marriage, and motherhood are swapped like sweaters of our youth; with an ease that comes from time and comfort. I met today with a heavy heart and in moments shared with a friend I found peace. I heard my heart song.
muddled memories
October 24, 2011 § 1 Comment
The passage of time creates pockets of memory loss in which embellishments flourish. First loves are lost loves, old friends become characters in stories more grand than the experience, and acquaintances infer connections. I am cautious of faded memories.
With the evolution of social media there exists a dangerous intersection of past and present. I myself am guilty of nostalgia misplaced; logic blurred with flattery and sentiment.
In moments of reflection, I have sent a memory or well-wish into the vast space of ungathered messages. Occasionally, the recipient would welcome the wish, sharing a memory of their own. More often an impersonal request for friendship would follow and I felt caught, uncomfortably in a new relationship with an old acquaintance; a friendship built on brief histories and void of futures.
I marvel at these broken connections; the known and unknown, fact and fiction creating mixed messages and miscommunication. Uncertain of the unspoken etiquette for friendships fostered so abstractly, I discretely excuse myself from a conversation cluttered with assumptions. Good-byes leave me wondering at the wisdom of merging moments in one lifetime with a casual hello.
just say ouch
September 14, 2011 § Leave a comment
Stubbed toe, paper cut, minor burn; in each instance we instinctively flinch, move to protect or comfort ourselves, and say ouch. It occurs to me that there are other moments when speaking our mind is coded in etiquette, covering up genuine feeling with good behavior. I can’t, I wish I could, maybe next time seem like fantastic, dramatic versions of no. Instead of speaking my truth, I often say yes and then carry the burden of my own self-induced discomfort. I am learning to say no, but the lessons along the way have left me feeling a little sore and muttering ouch.
I spent the first several years of my married life distorting my own opinions, wishes, and needs to accommodate the expectations of my mother-in-law. I was determined to please and escape the stereotypical power struggle. Instead, I created an unrealistic expectation of agreeability that has haunted me ever since. The late introduction of the word no deemed mean spirited rather than an expression of different needs.
I am equally certain I have friends that think I like particular hobbies or collectables because my polite conversation was void of any word resembling no. I am so fascinated and inspired by the diverse group of women in my life that I will nod amiably to garner their company rather than risk differentiating myself by just saying no.
Today, sitting in a room full of bright, thoughtful women, that give generously of their time to our elementary school I wondered how many of them are overextended because somewhere along the way saying no was deemed selfish. This thought distracted me throughout our noon meeting as I considered the familiar faces of the volunteers. Despite the variety of fundraisers or academic events, it seems the same names find their way onto each list. This year, I stepped back from a couple of my previous responsibilities for personal reasons; logical, valid reasons that suddenly felt selfish in the company of other mothers. I began to feel guilty for using the word no even though speaking it gave me peace.
I have no clear answer, but I cannot seem to shrug the question of how do we express ourselves genuinely without alienating people we love and while acknowledging our own unique needs?
blind dates
September 4, 2011 § Leave a comment
I have been married for over 11 years. Twice, in the past 7 years, my children have sent me on blind dates. With other mothers.
My first blind date began with a phone call. Tucked securely in a hospital bed, in premature labor with my daughter, a nurse slipped me my neighbor’s phone number. I remember our nurse shaking her head, all smiles, saying definitively: “The two of you have to meet.” A warm voice filled with humor and compassion called from the other side of the wall; our nurse’s knowing smile a premonition of friendship to come. Once our children were born, we met; she and her family have held a special place in my heart ever since.
Today it was my son handing me a phone. “Here Mom. It’s my new friend’s mom. Maybe you could be friends.” I had to smile at the irony. My children seem blessed with a gift of gathering special souls into our lives. Tomorrow I will meet a new friend and her family. I wonder what the future holds.
good advice
September 4, 2011 § Leave a comment
I listen to others’ problems, absorbing emotions and weighing my words attempting to offer genuine understanding. I invest myself in their needs; consciously selecting my words to offer kindness and perspective. I am learning to follow my own advice. Faced with frustrations or uncertainty, I am trying to step outside the moment and befriend myself. Typically I get tangled in my own emotions and over analyze others’ words or actions, distorting the value of intent and feeling hurt. In treating my own problems with compassion and clarity, I am finding a little peace.
Following a simple formula, universally applicable, I have fostered greater consciousness. First, I name the problem and my emotions. Next, I attempt to identify other personalities surrounding the conflict and challenge myself to consider the “problem” from a new perspective free of my emotions or conflict. Lastly, I try to consider how I would advise my children in a similar circumstance.
Feeling left out of social gatherings with friends I pouted assuming I had lost a place of belonging. Working through this formula lent me clarity. I named the problem and my emotions: I felt intentionally unincluded which lead to hurt feelings. I paused to shift perspective, considering my place among my friends’ company. In this instance, I acknowledged these friends’ connection to one another is a blessing, a source of comfort and joy to each of them; not a source of harm towards me. Next, I considered how I might advise my children on the importance of friendships and finding their own place of belonging. My closest friends are not members of an established group, but rather scattered over different towns from different moments in my life. The absence of those few individuals that know me most completely are the ones whose silence would fill me with emptiness. My advice: enjoy my time with friends without a need for affirmation.
I struggle a bit with confrontation and as a result can approach a problem passive aggressively, creating conflict. When my husband and I are at odds this formula has given me a newfound moment of acceptance. Setting aside my feelings, attempting to see a situation from my husband’s perspective, and allowing my own feelings to have value have created a more equal partnership. Now when we disagree I try to ask him to name for me what has upset him so that I can see the moment with new eyes. Often this makes my own hurt lessened as I shift my focus to encompass my husband’s feelings. In each disagreement I consider our children and the marriage I hope they create for themselves one day. My advice: be compassionate and insist on respect.
In smaller areas of anxiety I am trying to follow suit. I tend to resist change for familiar comforts. I have begun to recognize this and set aside the emotions that accompany this internal conflict; looking at new experiences as opportunities. In these new moments I am advising myself to embrace the experience without expectation.
Evaluating friendships, nurturing a marriage based in equality, and challenging my own insecurities are creating a greater consciousness. Allowing my role as a mother to inform my identity as a woman I am applying the same principles of love, respect, compassion, open-mindedness that I teach my children. It is easy to guide my children with words, but lessons must exist with examples. For now, naming the problem, shifting perspective, and offering guidance based in kindness seems like good advice.
to my son
August 30, 2011 § Leave a comment
Last night, before going to bed, you paused on the landing of the stairs and said you made a new friend at school. Enumerating on your new friend’s intelligence and kindness, you said you felt lucky. I feel lucky too.
When you were little you would introduce yourself to others, children and adults, with a sweetly naive promise to be their new best friend. It was the verbalization of your toddler self waddling onto adult’s laps or holding other children’s hands; loving openly and completely.
There came a moment in Kindergarten when you began hiding from peers. Moments of disappointment or rejection among classmates caused you to guard your feelings more closely. You maintained a couple of close friends, children that would stand beside you through thick and thin, but you stopped reaching out to new children for friendship.
The more you closed yourself off, the more I missed the little boy with the open heart. I waited, sometimes beside you and other times in the background, hoping a day would come when you would open up and let down your guard.
Last night, listening to you extol the virtues of your new friend I gave thanks that your vast heart could still open up and welcome someone new. Your new friend is lucky to have you, too.
Love,
Mom
individual inspiration
August 6, 2011 § Leave a comment
One person, inspiring a connection that forever changes the trajectory of a lifetime. I wonder, who would that be for each of us?
For some it could be a spiritual connection. Identifying with a belief that transpires time and fosters faith, unseen and universal. A sense of belonging to an ideology that draws strangers together in worship and action.
Perhaps others would make a romantic connection, identifying “The One.” A first love, old love, new love, unrequited love, or spouse. Finding a sense of belonging in another.
As a mother I cannot imagine my life without my children. There is an innocent, all-consuming love; their joy and pain felt as my own.
Friendship, platonic love that shelters us in moments of difficulty and celebrates us; guides us and balances us. The kind souls that we turn to without hesitation for understanding even when we cannot find words.
Then there is self-love. What if we never met ourselves; accepted our challenges and acknowledged our strengths? Would other relationships be the same if we never truly knew ourselves?
I am hesitant to place the burden of my destiny in another. I cannot imagine my story without the multitude of personalities that have led me to the present moment. I wonder, can anyone choose one person or identify one relationship that changes everything?
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