Happy Father’s Day
Toe-Dippers and Jumpers
It seems like people fall into one of two categories when it comes to new experiences: toe-dippers who like to ease into the adventure or jumpers.
I had the awesome opportunity to zipline in Austin yesterday thanks to the generosity of my friend, Kay. It. Was. Amazing. First of all, I have never witnessed a tourist/adventure/entertainment company that is so well run and managed. I appreciated everything from the design, to the customer service to the efficiency with which they operate.
I’ve been ziplining before in the Caribbean. It was interesting to compare the experiences. The runs in the Caribbean were designed so that you had to climb up rickety platforms, navigate narrow ledges while ducking under branches and finally take a leap of faith by jumping from a deck 80 feet or more above the ground. Lake Travis Zipline was much different. A trail led from launch site to launch site. Each platform was large, sturdy and had plenty of decking around the launch site. Even though the runs were much longer (including one that is over 2800 feet) and higher (up to 20 stories), you never felt like you were forced to leap. They designed their facility with the toe-dippers in mind.
It started with two “bunny” runs that ran fairly close to the ground. This let you get comfortable with the equipment and the sensation.
Their innovative braking system also facilitated ease; the guides braked for you so all you had to do was place your feet down when you arrived at a platform. This meant that you could fully be in the moment along the run instead of trying to perform the complex calculations based upon your weight, the wind speed and direction and the slackness in the line to try to figure out the optimum time to brake yourself.
Ever the social observer, I found it interesting to compare how people responded to the different designs. In the Caribbean, there were several people who panicked on the first run and never really improved. They had to be soothed and cajoled at every jump since their mind was sending out alert signals. Lake Travis Zipline could not have been more different. There was one woman in our group (no, not me!) who was very nervous prior to initial launch. She hung back, watching each person go ahead of her on the first training line. By the time she completed that run herself, she had a huge smile and was not hesitant again. All she needed was a little support and structure to be ready to take a risk.
We can be toe-dippers or jumpers at times, depending upon the situation. I tend towards the dipping in most physical pursuits (yeah, and I’m going skydiving – yikes!) and yet I am a jumper in many other areas. Brock is a full-on jumper physically yet dips his toes into emotional situations. One is not better than the other or more “right.” When dippers are given encouragement and are made to feel safe in increments, they can be willing to take the same risks as their more impulsive brethren, they just may take longer to get there.
If you find yourself fearful of a situation, think about what you can do to ease yourself in. Don’t worry about the last run that is 200 feet high; tackle the bunny line first. Learn to trust in increments and allow yourself to be comfortable at one stage before you move to the next. If you’re trying to help a toe-dipper, know that pushing too much will backfire and cause them to freeze. Work with their fear and teach them to move through it in stages.A nudge works better than a push!
With the right supports, fear can disappear. The run yesterday was so well designed that I, a self-proclaimed dipper, never even felt a twinge of nervousness.
You don’t have to jump to have the experience (okay, except for skydiving!). Build a ramp and ease your way in. Before you know it, you’ll be flying high!:)
You Win Some When You Lose Some: A Father’s Day Tribute
Four years ago next month, I lost my husband. Four years ago next month, I gained a father.
My parent’s divorce occurred when I was in elementary school. My dad then relocated across the country shortly after I turned 11. We did not see much of each other for the rest of my childhood or throughout my twenties. In fact, we didn’t really know each other.
Four years ago next month, I went to visit my dad for the first time in several years. I think we were both a little nervous, as were trying to learn the choreography of our adult relationship. I was with him when I received the text that ended my marriage. In that instant, I gained a father in the truest sense of the word.
With no hesitation, I became his little girl again. He moved into action immediately, doing what he could . He held my hand for the endless trip back to Atlanta, not even letting go when he drifted off to sleep on the plane. He made the phone calls I couldn’t and stayed in the house with the dogs when I wasn’t able. He cried with me and cursed with me. He hurt with me and he healed with me.
Four years ago next month, I gained a father. A guide. A cheerleader. A mentor. A friend.
Sometimes, it takes a loss to realize what you have. You win some when you lose some. Dad, I’m glad I won you:)
Related: Daddy Issues
Vengeance
I read the report of the woman who broadcast a cheater’s picture on Facebook with equal parts understanding, shame and revulsion. When I first decided to go public with my story, I wanted to use his name and his image. I rationalized it by the fact that his arrest records and mugshot are public documents and that I wanted to protect others from a run in with someone so skilled at conning. Luckily, leveler heads in my life talked me out of it.
That was part of my motivation, but I was still angry at that point and I was also motivated by a desire to get revenge. That’s where the shame comes in. I’m uncomfortable with the fact that I felt the impulse to “out” him. Regardless of what he did, that’s not my role. Furthermore, that’s responding from a place that I don’t want to be. That’s playing by his rules.
Some see it as retribution when I discuss what he did. I’m puzzled by this.
He left me with a text message.
Fact
I never spoke with him again.
Fact
He stole money and ruined credit.
Fact (backed up by the IRS)
He committed felony bigamy.
Fact (and there is a warrant for his arrest)
Those things happened. Am I only being a “good” ex-wife if I keep my mouth shut and never divulge what he did? I’m sorry, but that doesn’t sit well with me. Would I also be expected to protect him if he had been physically abusive? When we keep secrets like this, we give the abuser more power and reinforce the victim role.
I’m not acting to put him in jail but nor I am allowing him to keep me in one.
Vengeance is mine but it is not about shaming him and plastering the internet with his visage. Rather, my revenge is finding a way to use his actions in a positive way. It’s not motivated by a chance to get him back, rather I’m driven by a desire to right some wrongs and create meaning and purpose from the whole thing.
And that’s vengeance I can feel good about.
A Letter to My Ex
Dear —–,
Fourteen years ago, I was preparing to marry you. I was so excited but, even more, I was so sure. Sure that we were so good together. Sure that we would continue to weather any storm. Sure that we would be together forever.
My belief in our marriage lasted until the day you left. I remember my shock, my disbelief so clearly. I couldn’t understand how you, my beloved husband, could do those things. Even now, four years later, I still don’t understand the choices you made. I suppose I never will.
In an instant, you went from the man I adored to a stranger I feared. In many ways, you have been dead to me since you left. I remember you as you were since I can’t comprehend what you’ve become. It’s almost as though you are two completely separate men to me — the one I was married to and the one who betrayed me. I just can’t understand how you could be both my protector and my persecutor.
Lessons From the End of a Marriage 