My Story – Part 1
Our minds are so skilled at focusing on one thing to the exclusion of others. We see what we expect to see. We look to verify our assumptions.
Sometimes our brains filter information so that we can focus on the most important information. Other times, our brains take shortcuts so that we can free up processing space for more pressing concerns.
But other times, our brains perform this sleight of mind in order to distract us from the real issues at hand.
I had someone contact me recently who was concerned about the attentions his wife gave to another man while they were separated. Because it was less painful to focus on that man than on the changing feelings of his wife.
I have a friend whose husband is suffering from a degenerative disease. She is focused on creating a home. Not because she doesn’t care about her husband, but because it is an area that is safe for her brain to tread.
After my ex left, I focused my attentions on the legal process and on trying to label him. It was too excruciating to process the loss, so my brain looked the other way.
We want so badly to have control. So we choose to focus on those things that we feel like we can change or command.
But remember, just because you didn’t see the bear, doesn’t mean it isn’t there.
Your brain is a powerful magician.
But you can learn to see through its tricks.
How do you handle your scars?
Not the physical ones, the mottled yet smooth flesh that speaks of wounds to the body. But the emotional ones. The invisible lesions that cross your heart born from trauma to the soul.
It’s strange, you know, how we wear the marks upon our flesh with pride or at least confirmation of a life lived fully. We speak of battle scars and wounds of adventure. We allow the twisted flesh to speak of our courage or enduring spirit. We share the stories behind the blemishes with only the slightest hint of embarrassment or shame. They are not lashes of judgment; they are simply the spoor of life upon our skin.
It’s strange, not that we share those marks with little thought, but that we hide our emotional wounds so deeply. We speak of them with derision, as though they are separate and shameful. We dismiss them as baggage and belittle those who carry it.
But those wounds formed by the piercing knife of betrayal or the crushing blow of loss also have stories to tell. Those marks from past relationships and failures also are the traces of our pasts. We hide our heart’s scars as though they are shameful. As though the vulnerability that allowed the attack must be kept secret and the signs left behind buried deep within.
I have always loved the images of people who have embraced massive physical scars by painting them with tattoos. The breastless women with colorful murals across their chests. The amputees with often humorous paintings claiming the site where the limb once reigned. The burn patients whose textured skin serves as a unique canvas for tattooed paintings. The surgical scars that are woven into a larger picture, part of the story but not the entire tale.
I am always stunned by the beauty. Even more so than those whose bodies display an airbrushed perfection. These are strong bodies. Bodies that have felt the claws of life and yet still stand proud. Bodies that do not hide their stories, but embrace them and claim them and speak them in their own way.
Tattooed Scar Gallery (warning: some pictures may be NSFW)
Scars are not a sign of weakness.
They show that you are not afraid of life.
Let them be your badge of honor rather than your burden.
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. Read the rest here.
One of the more difficult concepts for middle school students to master is integers. Specifically, adding and subtracting integers. Even when the concept is introduced with concrete and tangible examples, the students still struggle with the often counterintuitive nature of negative numbers.
You see, in elementary school, they are taught that addition always results in more and subtraction, less. But once those numbers become negative, the results are often reversed.
One of the ways I help them remember the rules for adding and subtracting integers in by relating it to relationships:
When a good person comes into your life, it improves the value.
When a good person leaves your life, it reduces the value.
When a bad person comes into your life, it reduces the value.
And the one they have the hardest time understanding…
When a bad person leaves your life, it increases the value.