Memories Do Not Have to Equal Suffering

suffering

I met a recent divorcee the other night. I could feel her suffering behind the memories as she recounted the story of her marriage and its demise. The memories were weighted down with the pain relived in the moments or the anguish at the eventual outcome. The memories themselves were like a minefield, one deviation and you’re faced with an explosion of pain.

I remember being that same way. Every memory was laced with suffering. Every image brought with it the piercing pain as though the blow was freshly delivered. Every recalled fact opened the door to other memories, like dominoes made of lead, quickly burying me under their weight.

For a time, I thought that I would have to forcefully remove all memory of my former life. I wished for some type of amnesia pill to grant me a spotless mind. I saw memories and suffering as eternal bedfellows, forever linked together. After all, they are two things that others can never take from us – our memories and our suffering.

I can’t pinpoint an exact moment when my suffering divorced from my memories. There was no lightbulb moment, no flash of epiphany. Rather, I would sometimes startle with surprise when I realized that a memory came to me without its cruel partner.

I could remember without the pain.

I could see the past without feeling it.

I could allow a thought without it leading to another.

If your memories are entangled with suffering, try the following:

-Retell your story (writing is awesome for this!) until you feel some distance from it. Practice this. Make it matter-of-fact even when it doesn’t feel that way. Rewrite it as dryly as possible, removing the emotion. You’re training your brain how to perceive the pain.

-Pay attention to your physical symptoms when you remember certain facts. Does your stomach drop? Do your hands shake? Does your voice tighten? Focus on relaxing those physical symptoms. It’s often easier than directly addressing the mental pain and it sends the mind the message that it doesn’t need to suffer. (PTSD After Divorce)

-If you find that one thought leads to another and another, institute a distraction policy. You can choose to interrupt the pattern before it goes too far. Change the subject, move your body or switch gears. The more you allow a pattern to occur, the more easily your brain will follow the route in the future. Instead of letting your pain dictate the journey, try building your own road.

-Be selective in your memories. You have thousands to choose from; pick the ones that make you happy. Or select the ones that make you grateful for where you are now. Assign a purpose to a memory. Let it do its job and then file it or release it.

-See yourself as the one operating the slideshow of your life. You are the one that controls the images that appear. You can choose which slide to edit or remove.

-Reframe your memories. Edit out the painful parts. Pan out to see them as part of the larger picture. Zoom in on the smiles.

-And, as much as I hate the sentiment, time really does help heal wounds. In time, the memories will lose their sharp edges and the pain will soften. I promise. (Dulling the Knife’s Edge)

Memories are ghosts from the past. They may frighten, but they cannot really harm you. The suffering comes from within.

Embracing the Blues

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“My ears are in ecstasy,” whispered Brock as he turned towards me.

He sure wasn’t talking about the dulcet tones of my exceptional singing voice. It may work to help my 8th graders remember the quadratic formula, but it sure wouldn’t lead to any claims of ecstasy.

The sounds that elicited this response were instead coming from the guitar of the young blues master, Jonny Lang.

English: Jonny Lang

We were fortunate to be able to secure tickets to see Jonny Lang and Buddy Guy perform at a nearby venue. We were treated to 3 1/2 hours of incredible blues.

The blues were born from suffering, their name taken from the indigo dye used to color mourning garments in Africa. Their simplistic backbone, consisting of a basic chord progression and a liberal use of repetition, allows the emotion behind the music to take center stage. Gifted musicians speak not only of playing the blues, but of feeling the blues. Without the feeling, the music falls flat.

The uniting structure makes the blues predictable yet the freedom to improvise makes the next not impossible to forecast. It is familiar yet volatile.

The simplicity extends to the stage. From the grittiest dive bar to the fanciest hoity-toity venue, most performers dress plainly and shun any fancy stage decorations. Jonny Lang and Buddy Guy were no exception – their entire set-up could fit in a small U-Haul, with the guitars taking up most of the room.

The blues don’t whisper. They don’t speak in nuance and hide behind closed doors. The deep, melancholy tones are played loud, with no shame. There is a repeated pattern of building tension and then release. It is as visceral and cathartic as good cry.

Buddy Guy at the Long Beach Blues Festival
Buddy Guy at the Long Beach Blues Festival (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The players stand alone on the stage. They are together yet each is in his own world, bound by the edges of the spotlight. As they engage in call and response, they each speak through the music of their suffering and their own loss, creating a common bond.

The blues don’t rush; there is no hurry to complete one song to move on to another. A tune is played until all of the emotion has been wrung out. As Buddy said, “Don’t be afraid of getting a little funky”.

Blues musicians know that tears and laughter are not mutually exclusive. Many are not afraid of injecting humor into their doleful tunes, the resulting laughter purifying the soul.

The blues started out as way of dealing with suffering, the tunes shared only with friends and family. It evolved into a performance art, the pain transformed into something that could bring happiness to others through a common language of sadness and loss. By embracing the blues, they have created beauty from the sorrow. How can you do the same?

 

 

Valentines: Sweet and Sour

Choose your flavor:)

 

heartbreak

Love Doesn't End

Sometimes It’s About What You Can Reach

A small bowl of hot smoked Spanish paprika (pi...

I was engaged in my usual Sunday cook-a-thon last week when I faced a small dilema.   I wanted the smoked paprika (fancy, I know) for the recipe, but it was out of reach.  I keep this particular item on the top shelf of the spice cabinet due to its infrequent use.  Normally, I simply climb up on the counter below to reach the items on the top shelf.  At this particular time; however, my very full and very hot slow cooker was occupying the exact counter real estate where I would need to place my knees.

At first, I became frustrated.  I felt like the recipe wouldn’t be perfect without the addition of the smoked paprika.  Then, I glanced up, spying the perfectly normal and perfectly accessible paprika right in front of me.  It would do just fine.

Some days and some situations are not about trying to achieve perfection.  When you’re in a rough patch, trying to maintain a high standard can be daunting and add unneeded stress.  It is okay to redefine your goals and adjust accordingly.  Sometimes, it’s all about what you can reach.

And, for the record, no I did not think about pulling a chair over to reach the paprika.  There is probably a lesson in that too…