The Marshmallow Test

Posted on by stilllearning2b

In the Stanford marshmallow experiment, young children were placed alone in a room with a single marshmallow. They were told that if they left the marshmallow alone until the experimenter returned, they would receive two marshmallows. Further studies indicated that children that could delay gratification had better life outcomes in terms of educational attainment and other life measurements.

If I had been administered the marshmallow test as a child by an absent-minded researcher, I would probably still be sitting in that 70s-themed room waiting for the return of the person in the white lab coat.

But is that a good thing?

Are there times when we are better off enjoying the single marshmallow rather than waiting for the promise of two?

I don’t know how I would label this trait in myself. I’m not sure if it is willpower, stubbornness or a fear of not playing by the rules. Probably a bit of all three. Regardless of its origin, I have never had trouble slogging through the muck to get to a goal. I might detour and I’ll certainly complain at times, but I will get there.

In my former life, this trait was put to the test many times. I drug myself through grad school for the promise of an increased salary that would benefit us both (or so I thought). I lived with a decaying deck for over 8 years until we had saved (or so I thought) to build our dream deck. I put off trips so that we could save money (or so I thought). I worked extra jobs, often tutoring 20 hours a week, to help save money for our future (or so I thought). I made sacrifices for the betterment of the marriage (or so I thought).

I was okay ignoring the single marshmallows on the table, confident that the promised two would soon be coming.

Except they never did.

While I was waiting, my ex, who I thought was waiting with me, was raiding the marshmallow stores. When I discovered his multiple betrayals and deceptions, part of my anger was that he was doing those things while I was making sacrifices. I gave and he stole.

As a result of all of this, I’ve changed my approach a bit. I am much more likely to balance decisions between the future and the present. I have learned how to spend money instead of squirreling it all away. I have learned how to enjoy the present instead of always waiting for the future. But I also haven’t really been tested. I’ve been able to live more for today, since my tomorrows have been so unknown.

I’m being tested right now.

I know part of it is that I’m a bit grumpy and frustrated over recent events. We usually go camping over spring break, but Brock had to be out of town for business. Then, strep throat cut short my Asheville trip. We were supposed to be camping this weekend, but this time weather foiled our plans. Hell, even the festival last weekend was impacted by my ex’s unexpected appearance. I’m whiny. I’m pouty. I feel like a kid proclaiming that it’s not fair. All I want is a trip. A break. It doesn’t have to be extravagant or prolonged. Just time away.

So, coming from that place and looking forward to the approaching summer, I brought up the idea of summer getaways with Brock over breakfast yesterday.

It was not the conversation I expected.

He kind of snapped.

He told me that he didn’t have time for trips. That just because I was off work, it didn’t mean that he was. He started talking about the house we intend to buy this fall and the need to save. Underlying these words is the pressure he feels as the primary provider and soon-to-be first time husband to support his family. In his job, unlike mine, more hours and more travel usually equate to a larger paycheck. He is currently choosing to sacrifice time for money for our future.

But he also said he understood my past and my fear of waiting for a future that never occurs.

It ended up being a really good conversation, even though I hate it when I realize how much my past still impacts me. So much of this comes down to trust. I have to trust that he isn’t stealing the marshmallows from behind my back. I have to trust that the promised time and trips will occur after the house has been purchased. I have to trust that we’re in this together.

Damn.

Why is this so hard?

How do I find that balance between waiting and living? Learning from my past and being limited by my past? Trusting and being?

I am ready for a home. I have tired of my nomadic existence over the past four years. I yearn for a place to put down roots and a garden for them to spread. I have only recently allowed myself to get excited about the prospect, however.  Even as I have directed funds towards a down payment, the future home seems like a mirage that will disappear before it becomes reality.

I need to trust.

I can wait for the promised two marshmallows, trusting that they will be there. Trusting that Brock will be there.

life is not a waiting room

Nourishment

Posted on by stilllearning2b

In my former life, I viewed eating as a purely functional act.  I was not concerned with the quality of food that entered my mouth, as long as it contained the proper macronutrients at the proper time. For almost ten years, my lunch consisted of a premixed protein shake because it was high in protein, low in calories, and could be sucked down in 15 minutes while I tutored struggling students in the school cafeteria.  For ten years, I was content with that lunch.

Then something changed.  I realized that not only did I not look forward to lunch, but that I had even begun to dread it.  The shakes met my nourishment in the most basic sense, but that was all.  At this point, I had already begun to visit my kitchen for more than a chat with the microwave, so I decided to restructure my lunches to incorporate what I was learning in the kitchen.

I had to start with the practical: my hours as a teacher are long and my lunch times are short.  I needed to be able to find foods that could be cooked and prepped on Sunday and reheated quickly at school. I started by collecting recipes and cookbooks (about the only kind of book that didn’t fill the shelves in my old life).  I found I enjoyed seeking out ideas and combinations, always seeking to maximize my veggie intake and ensure that I would get substantial protein and fiber with each meal.  I learned that raw veggies have to be limited; there simply is not enough time to eat them all.  Likewise, finger foods are a no-go in the germ laden land of a middle school.  Even with those limitations, the options seemed endless.

An amazing metamorphosis occurs in my fridge every weekend.  Mounds of greens and veggies are chopped and cooked into submission and divided into color-coded containers ready for the week ahead. The house fills with the aromas of a variety of spices, as the sounds of the food processor echo through the house.  The island is the scene of assembly line style food preparation.

The consequences of the change in my lunch menu were astounding.  My health improved; I no longer caught every cold that came through the school.  My attitude improved, as I had a lunch I looked forward to (this is especially a motivator on Monday mornings).  My afternoon workouts improved, now that I had enough fuel in my system to support the training.  I became a de facto educator about plant-based diets as teachers and students began to inquire about my lunch.

But, most of all, I found nourishment.  For my body.  And for my soul.

I send the message to myself every weekend that I am worth the effort. That I matter. That feeding my needs is just as important as feeding the needs of those around me.

I kept the menu for this week simple; it is a short week and I don’t want to dedicate much of my time off to cook.  I decided to make Hottie Black-Eyed Peas & Greens from Appetite for Reduction, one of my go-to cookbooks for healthy, easy, vegetarian meals. I always try to incorporate fruits and veggies of different colors in every meal, so I’m adding sweet potatoes mashed with almond milk and vanilla rice protein along with some blackberries, since they were on sale;)

Here’s the food ready to cook.

And here, after 45 minutes of preparation (barring the work the ol’ trusty slow cooker did overnight on the beans), is the final product.

I’m waiting to pack the blackberries until Wednesday morning, so that is why they are absent.  Now, I can enjoy the rest of my time off knowing that I have healthy, nourishing food to get me through the week.

Finding Love Again

Posted on by stilllearning2b

When we are young and our hearts are relatively intact, love seems to be an easy endeavor. Potential partners are everywhere and the possibilities seem endless. As we get older (or, as I prefer to think of it, wiser), love no longer seems so simple. We are more aware of the pitfalls and are more critical of potential partners. Our hearts are laced with cracks and we fear any other breakages. We become more accustomed to our ways and less likely to want to change them.

Finding love again is possible but it takes a different approach than before. First, you have to be ready to allow yourself to love again. This means choosing to move through the fear of being vulnerable again, to release the trepidation of another broken heart. Since life isn’t a romantic comedy, simply welcoming love is not sufficient to make that special person appear; you have to be an active participant in life and engage in opportunities that will allow you to meet people. Once you find that connection, it needs to be nurtured. It will take deliberate action to create the relationship that you want. I have found that this is an ongoing cycle: I continually have to work to allow myself to be open and to not let fear close me in. I am always actively seeking the love I want (now within the context of a relationship instead of on the dating scene 🙂 ); I hold a vision of what I want. And, finally, I am consciously working to create and maintain the vision.

I’m often told that I’m lucky to have found love again. Sure, there is an element of serendipity but there is also quite a bit of choice and deliberate action.

I screwed a lot of things up on the way to love. I had a tendency to act married immediately upon meeting someone (what can I say, I knew how to be married, but I had no idea how to date!). I looked to men for escape or validation. I confused dates with old friends, looking to them for emotional support. I walled myself off, using my strength and survival skills to keep men at arm’s length. I didn’t always listen to my gut. I let my anger get the best of me. I dated before I had fully dissected my role in the end of my marriage. I overlooked certain things that I probably shouldn’t have. I hurt feelings carelessly and I failed to listen to advice (that damn defensiveness!).

But I also did a lot of things right. I saw dating as practice and I made sure to get plenty of it. I was patient with myself and others. I said “yes” more than I said “no,” and, as a result, I opened myself up to new people and experiences. I made time to play and I didn’t take myself or dating too seriously. I may have been angry with my ex, but I never transferred that animosity to all that carry the XY chromosome. I didn’t let my natural introverted nature keep me inside, buried in a book.  I approached everything as a learning experience and I allowed myself to be open to change. After some false starts, I accepted the value of baby-steps and taking a relationship as it comes.

Here’s what I learned from my journey to love again. Maybe this list can save you from some of my mistakes 🙂

Intention: Know what you want. Have a mental vision board. If something or someone doesn’t fit, it may be best to let them go.

Step Out: Step out of your comfort zone. Step outside. Step out of your routine. Step out of your normal group.

Acknowledge: Accept your fear. Your doubt. Your hesitations. Acknowledge them but don’t let them control you.

Practice: You won’t get it right at first. No one does. Try again.

Patience: Be gentle with yourself. And others. Most people are doing the best they can in that moment. Be patient in your search. Enjoy the journey.

Openness: Say “yes.” Remove barriers. Explore new ideas and new experiences. Withhold judgment. Replace it with reflection.

Forgiveness: Forgive yourself. You are not damaged goods. You are whole and okay as you are. You are worthy of love.

Levity: Have fun. Laugh. Everything is better with a smile.

Effort: Love isn’t passive. You have to be willing to be an active participant and to make an effort.

Listen: It’s amazing what you can learn.

Grow: Let your successes and not-quite-successes fuel your development.  

Love is worth it. Allow it in, seek it out and create it in your own life.

Slaying the Dragon

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Regrettably, this is a metaphorical slaying only. No dragons (or ex husbands, as the case is here) were harmed in the making of this post.

Unfortunately.

 

It’s been a rough 24 hours after seeing my ex husband for the first time in over 3 years. I almost wish that I had called in sick to work today so that I could have taken care of myself sooner. As it was, I ended up crying at my desk for the first time since the divorce was in progress. Not exactly a good way to start the work week. Luckily, I pretty much had the tears (but not the shakes) under control by the time the kids got there.

I’m finally getting back to normal now after employing my favorite dragon-slaying strategies:

1) Ask

I can have a tendency to be stoic. “Oh, I’m fine,” when I’m not. Yesterday, I didn’t pretend. I told Brock exactly what I needed. I let appropriate friends know so that I could have support. I blogged about it, baring all. The messages of support that have been pouring in all day have been amazing. Strengthening. I was afraid that I would be laughed at for reacting so strongly. So far, nothing could be further from the truth. You guys are amazing.

2) Eat

I’m bad about this one. When I’m stressed, my body locks down and I lose all appetite. Once I don’t eat, it becomes easier to not eat. There was no way my body could tolerate food yesterday, but I made healthy, filling food a priority today. This kind of tension and anxiety burns a lot of fuel and I have to eat to stay sharp.

3) Laugh

I’ve always used humor to deal with difficulties. In the case of my ex, most of it is dark, revolving around revenge-type fantasies. In hypothetical retrospect, here’s what I could have done yesterday:

-Posted a crowd picture (with him in it) of the festival on my website and let my readers play “Where’s Dumbo.”

He is actually just out of the frame on this one.
He is actually just out of the frame on this one.

-Hacked into the computer that was hooked up to a huge screen at the festival and play my Jeff Probst episode.

-Redecorate the cornhole (probably a regional name for the game, basically lawn beanbags) boards with his mugshot.

-Give the woman that was with him one of my Lessons From the End of a Marriage business cards. If it was my former wife-in-law, she’s obviously a slow learner and could use a refresher. If it was another woman, she could the head’s up.

-Give him one of my Action Potential Wellness business cards. He sure looked like he could use it. I’m embarrassed by this, but I do have to giggle at his girth. Shallow? Yes. Cliche? Yes. But still funny. He is now only a few pounds shy of the belly that his father sported that was a favorite roost for the dogs.

-The festival is in a very liberal, hipster area of town. I could have located his car and plastered it with Romney, Confederate flag and anti-gay stickers. Tee hee.

-One of my friends that was there is a CPA. He could have offered his services to my ex, as I’m sure he has not paid off the IRS from the innocent spouse relief.

-I could have waited until he entered a porta potty and “accidentally” sealed the door and perhaps even tipped it over. By day 3 of a brewery-sponsered festival, they were fairly ripe.

4) Run

8+ miles of hard-pavement pounding through a beautiful neighborhood by the river. Running is so perfect for these times – it drains the energy from the body and lets the mind process. I feel restored. And sweaty.

5) Bang

Get your mind out of the gutter! I’m not talking about that kind of banging (not that it isn’t a critical component of dragon-slaying:) ). I’m talking here about head banging – AKA heavy metal. I can just hear my mom on this this one, “Oh Lisa,” shaking her head, “You should listen to calming music. Metal will only make you more anxious.” Nope, sorry mom. You’re wrong. I find when I am ramped up, trying to force calm just backfires (my morning meditation today would have been more at home on the heavy bag). Instead, I need to feed the energy so that I can bleed the energy. Pantera and Disturbed fit the bill nicely today.

6) Rest

And now for the final stage in slaying the dragon. I’ve released the energy, fueled the body and relaxed the mind. Now it’s time to rest and lay the dragon to rest. Hopefully for good.

spirit

Raw

Posted on by stilllearning2b

A follow up to Facing the Dragon:

 

Sleep has come in fits and spurts.

I’m in a fit right now.

Eating hasn’t come at all.

My body is still in lockdown.

 

I hate this physical reaction.  At least now, it’s purely physical. Seeing him felt more like facing an attacker than a lover. No emotion. Just a punch to the gut and an adrenaline shot straight to the heart.

 

I’ve always wondered what it would be like to see him again. Now I know.

 

Not that I want to do again. Once is enough, thank you.

 

But now I know he’s in the city. And I don’t like that feeling. I liked it better when he was in Uganda. Would it be wrong to send him fictitious job offers from Africa?

 

My throat is raw from the pollen.

My anxiety is raw from the vision.

My body is raw from the stress.

 

I feel debrided.

 

In a way, he has been a character to me. Other than in court, the last time I saw him, he was my husband. The man who did these things has not been present in my life in flesh and blood. Yesterday, that character became embodied.

 

It was jarring, the way that people who have had an out of body experience talk about being slammed back into their now-unfamiliar flesh.

 

In the early months, I used to stare at his mug shot, looking for any signs of the man I knew. Although the man yesterday was so familiar to me, he is not the man I knew. He never will be.

 

Brock has been great. And so was the friend I was with when I saw my ex. The friend, who had to leave to teach a class, stayed with me until Brock and our other friends showed up. He refused to leave me alone. Of the others, I only told Brock about the situation. As much as possible, I just wanted to enjoy the day. I told Brock that I didn’t want to walk anywhere alone (out of character for me) and he was great about staying with me when I needed the bathroom or a refill.

 

As soon as I got home, I took a shower. I wanted to scrub away the vision along with the dirt. Brock joined me and held me as I let out the sobs that I had been holding in. Just now, as I awoke and left the bedroom, he made sure I was okay. He and Tiger continue to protect the second floor while I release my energy downstairs.

 

It’s strange to have this familiar feeling in my now-home. I spent many nights like this 4 years ago during the transition out of one life and into another. It feels like a violation of this life.

 

I learned before that the best way to drain this anxiety is to run. I guess I know my plans for after work today:) I wish I didn’t have to wait so long. I expect to be reset after 10 miles or so. Less raw. Less shaky. Hopefully hungry.

 

As I sat on that hill yesterday, watching my old life walk by, I was thankful to be in my life now. I was surrounded by people that have only come into my life when he walked out and now I cannot imagine life without them.

 

For now, I’ll enjoy one of the few positive side effects of an inability to sleep and I’ll finish the book I started yesterday, Bill Bryson’s A Walk in the Woods. Perhaps his walk will help to soothe me to slumber.

 

And I’ll feel safe knowing that Brock and Tiger are protecting the second floor.

 

The humor returns…Slaying the dragon