Seasonal

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I grew up in South Texas, which basically has two seasons: “knocking on the gates of hell” (where you risk 3rd degree burns just by simply going barefoot)  from about March to October and “I can wear jeans without suffering heatstroke,” frequently called “winter” by the rest of the country. Occasionally, a third season makes a brief appearance when the region receives five years worth of average rainfall in five hours and the interstates turn into swimming holes.

I never really understood seasons as a kid. Fall was marked by the start of the school year and the appearance of jack-o-lanterns (which usually looked as though they needed sunsreen and a fan) rather than by any real drop in temperature. Instead of arriving on the wind in a series of brisk cold fronts, the temperatures slowly seemed to moderate. The lows became a little lower and the highs seemed to struggle to reach their apex before the sun set. Winter was defined by the addition of Christmas lights and luminarios to the fronts of the houses, projecting a cozy ambiance even when you’re in shorts. The deciduous trees held stubbornly to their leaves until spring, when the new growth pushed off the old. Spring, a sign of renewal and life in much of the world, is the season of caterpillars and tree dropping in South Texas. At least until the temperatures grow too hot again for the trees to even bother with such things as leaves.

There were benefits to growing up without seasons – you could camp during fall and winter breaks, a winter coat was an indulgence rather than a necessity, and we used to have “heat days” off school when it was too hot for the busses to run. Nonetheless, there is something to be said for nature’s reminders of the inevitability of cycles and the impermanence of life.

I am now on my fifteenth autumn in Atlanta. And today marks the first day where fall is carried on the breath of the wind through the trees. I celebrated this morning with pumpkin pancakes and a pair of new running shoes.

There’s a slowing, a sense of turning inward, that accompanies the fall. I associate it with reading and cooking and hiking and writing by an open window. I’ve always felt a rebirth in the fall, perhaps because it marks the end of the intense heat and humidity that often terrorizes Atlanta towards the end of the summer. It’s literally a breath of fresh air.

I have fallen in love with the full expression of each season found here. I enjoy the sense of inner nurturing and scaling back in the autumn, the gatherings around the hearth in the winter, the strength of life in the spring and the pure exuberance of the summer. Just as one tires, the next moves in.

I love the reminder that change is inevitable and that every transformation has its own beauty.

And I also appreciate the fact that I can wear jeans in September without succumbing to heatstroke:)

Happy fall, y’all!

The 6 Worst Reasons to Get Married

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Okay, so maybe there are worse reasons than the ones below. Like getting hitched because you like the way his last name sounds with your first. Or saying “I do” because you’ve always wanted a Vegas bachelor party a la The Hangover. Or going to a friend’s bachelor/bachelorette party and getting so drunk that you wake up wedded to the hired emm…help. Or signing up for some reality show where you agree to marry a stranger and then allow cameras to follow your every move.

Those would all be pretty bad.

But so are these. And they are much more prevalent and much more subtle.

I Don’t Want to Start Over

In a conversation about her one-year relationship, a friend mentioned that she hopes they will end up progressing to marriage because she “doesn’t want to start all over again.” I get it. Relationships aren’t easy and finding and cultivating one that lasts past the early treacherous stages can be difficult. It’s frustrating and depressing when a relationship falls apart before it reaches the altar (assuming, of course, that marriage is what both partners ultimately want), but a reticence for re-entering the dating scene is no reason to get married. In fact, most likely all you’re doing is delaying your trip back to the dating scene. Only this time with a (or another) failed marriage under your belt. No relationship is ever wasted. Learn from the failed ones and apply that knowledge to the next.

It’s the Next Logical Step

Well, we dated for a year. And then we rented an apartment for another year. And then we bought a dog together. Isn’t a wedding registry the next logical step? Maybe. But maybe not. Sometimes we get so caught up in the “right” or “normal” way of doing things that we turn on autopilot and forget we have a choice. It’s easier to slide in than take a stand. Simpler to avoid conflict or confusion and just follow the well-tred path. But research shows that this pattern leads to a higher likelihood of divorce. Most likely when one partner wakes up five years later and wonders, “How in the world did I end up here?”

I Don’t Want to be Alone

Nobody does. But being married (or having a kid) is no guarantee that you won’t be alone. In fact, feeling isolated and misunderstood is even more painful when you’re with someone. If you enter into marriage with a fear of abandonment, you will cultivate an insecure attachment with your spouse. And if your panicky grasping ways send your partner either literally or metaphorically running, you’ve just fulfilled your own fear. Usually when we don’t want to be alone, it’s because we’re not truly happy with who we are. Start there.

Caving to Outside Pressure

“So, I see your cousin Peggy just got engaged. When is it going to be your turn?” “You know I want grandbabies; when are you going to get started on that?” “All of the other partners at the firm are married. I’d like to keep it that way.” “You’re not shacking up are you? That’s not how you were raised!” Either subtle or overt, the pressure in our society is towards marriage. People who choose to be partnered without papers or (gasp!) remain single are easily ostracized and criticized. You may get Aunt Mildred’s stamp of approval if you wed, but is that really the person you need to please?

Everybody Else is Doing It

Facebook, Instagram and Pintrest can make it feel like everybody else in the world is planning a (professionally-styled yet laid-back Martha Stewart-esque with the latest baubles and bows) wedding. All around you, Misses are becoming Mrs. and bands appear on fourth fingers. Much like middle schoolers in the cafeteria, we want to belong. We want to be an accepted part of the tribe. And so when everybody else walks down the aisle, it’s easy to follow behind like the rats behind the Pied Piper. But remember what happened to the rats? Yeah, it’s best to look before you leap.

I Want to Feel Secure

That marriage vow is funny. We attach meaning and surety to the words “till death do us part” until those words no longer suit us. Somehow a marriage is viewed as stronger, more stable, more secure than any other relationship. But why? A piece of paper does not prevent betrayal or misdeeds. A promise made in front of a priest can be broken as easily as one told over a dinner table. In fact, in many ways, security in any relationship is an illusion. And if you are brave enough to see through it, it can even spice up your sex life. Promise:)

So, if you’re thinking about saying “I do,” make sure it’s for the right reasons, whatever those reasons are for you.

Even if it is because you’ve always wanted to be on a reality show about Vegas stripper weddings.

Not Fade Away

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I’m feeling sentimental tonight. I’m listening to some of the music from my teen years. Not the metal, but the folk. The stuff I was raised with and the notes that soothe. I used to listen to these CDs all the time. With my ex. Now, I rarely remember to unearth them from the closet. But I should. Because some memories fade but the music never does.

Here’s one of my favorites from Trout Fishing in America, appropriately called Not Fade Away. Hope you enjoy:)

I Used to Judge

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I used to judge.

I’m not proud of it.

But I used to judge those who stayed in abusive relationships.

I criticized the victim for staying put while exclaiming that, were I ever to find myself in a similar situation, I would leave immediately.

It always seemed so clear to me. So cut and dry.

If the victim wasn’t choosing to leave, then they were choosing to be hit.

But that was before I was judged myself.

I wasn’t in an abusive relationship*. But I was played. And I played along. Played the fool. People hear of my situation and wonder how I didn’t know about the marital embezzlement or the double life. I’m criticized for staying unaware.

And you know my first response when I hear those words?

You weren’t there.

You don’t know.

The same words spoken by those that have been in abusive relationships.

It’s so easy to declare a solution to a problem when you’re viewing it from the outside. But it’s a false clarity, born of perspective and ignorance. When you only see a piece, it’s easy to play judge. But life isn’t that simple.

People stay in abusive relationships because the abuse comes in slowly and “normal” is changed over time.

People stay in abusive relationships because they learned in childhood that abuse is love.

People stay in abusive relationships because they believe they are not worth more.

People stay in abusive relationships because they fear the repercussions of leaving more than those of staying.

People stay in abusive relationships because they love their partner. Except when they fear him/her.

People stay in abusive relationships because the abuser is a skilled trapper, limiting resources and escape routes.

People stay in abusive relationships because their partner is a wonderful parent.

People stay in abusive relationships because they are hopeful that he/she will return to the way it was.

People stay in abusive relationships because depression keeps them stuck.

People stay in abusive relationships because “one more time” is always repeated once more.

People stay in abusive relationships because of fear. And love. And shame. And hope.

I judged for the same reason people have judged me.

I wanted to believe that I was too strong, too smart, too brave for it to ever happen to me. I wanted to believe that I was safe.

And since then, I’ve made friends with many people who have opened up to me about the abuse they’ve endured. And these friends are all strong and smart and brave.

I’ve learned not to judge. To be willing to accept that I am not immune. That I cannot truly understand a situation unless I have lived it. And that in any case, it is better to listen with compassion that speak with judgement.

*My ex husband never was physically abusive. He was never openly controlling. However, he was manipulative and secretive. And I was physically afraid of him once he left; I realized that he was capable of things I never imagined. It was a type of covert abuse.

If you are on Twitter, check out the hashtags #WhyILeft and #WhyIStayed. Powerful.

Take Me to the Other Side

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I have a person in my life who is currently in crisis, a breakdown at the intersection of environment and predisposition. A brain hijacked and a life on stutter.

For the sake of brevity and anonymity, I’m going to refer to this person as A.

But this isn’t really about A.

It’s about all of us.

Because at some point, all of us break.

And the stronger we are, the harder we fall.

As I sat listening to A replay the scene in a deadened and distant voice, I heard my own voice telling and retelling the story of the text. As I listened to A’s fears about losing self and the possibility of the loss being permanent, I recalled my own similar fears. As I heard the desperation to simply survive each day, I felt an echo of my own panic each dawn. And, as is so often the case with ones we care about, I wished I could take on A’s pain rather than watch A endure. I wanted to be able to fix it, to make it okay again.

I wanted to hold A’s hand and escort A to the other side.

To where the pain and fear are a memory, not reality.

Here is some of what I told A and what I want to tell all of you who are also in the breakdown lane:

Understand Your Brain 

I remember my fear and frustration one morning soon after the text when I tried to make an answer key for my class. I sat and stared at an equation for twenty minutes, unsure how to proceed. I had been solving similar with no issues for 20 years. But that morning, my brain was not working. In fact, it didn’t really work right for almost a year. When anxiety and depression move in, they displace normal functioning. Your brain won’t function correctly until the interlopers have been removed.

Accept Help 

Call in the professionals. If medication is suggested, take it. Your friends and family want to help. Allow them. Recognize that they each will help in different ways.  I resisted medication at first, believing that I was strong enough to go at it alone. But I wasn’t. And that’s okay.

Suicide Hotline

Trust in the Help

Give the medication time to work. Have faith that therapy will start to unravel your stuck mind and help you make sense of it all. Trust that your loved ones want what’s best for you, even when they struggle to show it. It’s easy to get frustrated that progress isn’t happening. It is; it’s just slow going at first.

Live Breath by Breath

I remember looking down the horizon to the divorce being final and it felt like untreadable terrain. So I stopped looking at the “end” and just focused on the next step. And then the next. Progress is progress, no matter how small.

Breathe

Discard Shame

Shame, often hand-in-hand with guilt, is a favored weapon of the malfunctioning brain. Try to see it for what it is and leave it behind.

Allow Dreams

When your brain isn’t functioning properly, it is difficult to make decisions and plans. That’s okay. Table them for a while. But in the meantime, allow yourself to dream. Brainstorm. Even if none of it actually comes to fruition, it is not wasted energy.

Embrace Impermanence 

The way you feel right now is not the way you will always feel.

You will make it to the other side.