past

Three Way Conversation

Posted on April 16, 2013 by stilllearning2b

Do you remember three way calling? Where you pushed a button after connecting with one person to allow you to dial out to a third?

Three way calling dominated my middle school years. I spent countless hours curled in the corner of my waterbed atop my zebra-striped comforter (hey now, it was the early 90s!) with my ear pressed to my corded phone (I didn’t have a cordless model for a few more years). Much of time, one of two of my two closest friends were on the other line. We could spend hours talking about everything and nothing. But mostly, the talk centered around boys. Hmmm…would they be classified as everything or nothing?

The legendary zebra bed and my infamous chubby cheeks of childhood:)

And then the topic of a three way call would come up. Who should we call? Is there anything we need to discuss before they are on the phone? Any bit on intel to which they are not privy? It was so deliberate, that addition of a third to the conversation. The new voice could entirely change the tone or course of an exchange. New topics may be broached or old ones discarded due to their proclivities and knowledge.

It was always a balancing act, those three way conversations. Especially with middle school girls involved. We usually had alliances; the affections were not spread equally between the three. It was always a dance between inclusion and exclusion, always wondering your place in the mix.

Three way conversations have again appeared in my life. Not via phone (do iPhones even have that capability or has it gone the way of the floppy disk?) but in my relationship.

I am acutely aware that every conversation between Brock and I also includes our pasts, the ghosts from before dialing in to voice their feelings and opinions.

Now obviously every conversation between two people pulls from their respective pasts. It’s impossible for two adults of any age to speak without their pasts whispering their ears. Our experiences shape or beliefs and our perceptions. We filter the world through this netting woven from days gone by.

With my ex, I was not as aware of the past. We were together from such a young age, perhaps I assumed my past was his past.

But that’s not accurate. Even though we lived parallel lives for many years, we had different perspectives born from our childhoods. I neglected to listen to the specters whispering of the trauma caused by his alcoholic family and I didn’t pay attention to my fear of abandonment on the other line. I acted as though we were in on a private conversation when, in reality, it was a three way conversation with our pasts.

I’ve returned to the state of my youth. I am more deliberate about those three way conversations. I listen to the voice that is speaking – past or present – and try to respond appropriately. It’s easier now to tease out the utterances of former lives, as we each bring years of unshared experiences to the table. I am more aware of their effect on our views and responses, the latter of which are often anchored more in yesterday than today. We cannot hang up on our pasts; we must learn how to engage them in the conversation.

The zebra-topped water bed has long since been retired and I no longer have a corded phone. However, the three way conversations continue. Only now we don’t spend hours giggling about boys.

To those impacted by Boston: Marathoners train to endure pain. But there is no training that can prepare you for this kind of torment. My heart goes out to the runners, their supporters and the thousands of people who are taking care of the affected.

Pandora’s Envelope

Posted on March 20, 2013 by stilllearning2b

It looked like nothing special really. A plain brown 13″ x 9″ envelope. It sat tucked in a file drawer for two years, its brown frame slightly larger than the file folder which contained it. Over time, the edges grew a little worn, but the clasp stayed sealed tight. I didn’t think of it often, but when I would open the drawer, it sat there taunting me. Haunting me.

It looked like nothing special really. But it was. That plain envelope contained a few sample images of my former life, pictures and memories I had not faced in years. I had imbued the images within with power, talismans of a former life. I didn’t know what the consequences would be for breaking that seal. I feared the pictures would act like horcruxes, their sum total assembling into some great evil.

Last year, I was finally ready to find out what would happen when I broke the seal.

I made the preparations. Secluded outdoor table at a coffee shop? Check. Dark sunglasses to hide the tears? Check. Journal and pen ready? Check. Bravery? Check, I guess. I began to pull the pictures and letters out one at a time, recording my memories and reactions.

My ex’s first car was a ’56 Chevy. It was a noble, yet fickle beast. He had to carry entire flats of oil in the trunk so that he could top it off every 100 miles or so. In this picture, we were redoing the upholstery while parked in my mom’s driveway. The older man next door always came out when the Chevy was in the driveway and he would share memories of his 20s, when he owned the same car.

This picture was the only one that actually brought tears to my eyes. This was Max, our Wonderpug. We got her shortly after we moved in together and she quickly became an integral part of our family. She was so full of spunk and spirit. We would take her camping, hiking, and swimming, earning her the title, “All Terrain Pug.”

When I found myself suddenly alone and adrift, I was completely unable to care for any my dogs physically, emotionally, or financially. Friends and family helped to find homes for all three of them. Giving them away was the most painful part of the entire divorce, but I had to do what was best for them. Max was the hardest to place, as she was elderly and in failing health. One of the amazing volunteers at Southeast Pug Rescue personally took her in and gave her a wonderful home in which to spend her remaining years. Here come the tears again…

A family portrait with an adult Max.

We had an unorthodox wedding. We were married on the beach in Vero Beach, FL. The only attendees were the minister (a gay Methodist minister who looked like David Lee Roth and threatened to marry us while wearing a speedo) and the photographer, who actually worked for the newspaper. We both cried when reciting our vows, trembling with emotion. As soon as the ceremony was over, we removed our shoes and walked along the beach for miles.

We honeymooned on a Windjammer cruise. Apparently I though short-alls were the height of Caribbean fashion.

It was strange seeing him in these photos. His face no longer seemed familiar to me. What stood out was one picture where you could see a mole on his neck. That image, not his face, brought memories rushing back: the feel of his hands, the texture of his chin, the smell of his hair. I examined all his images, looking for emotion. Looking to see if his love was real. Comparing the pictures of him then to his more recent mugshot. It’s not the same man.

Strangely, the wedding pictures did not bring sadness. Just a disconnected sort of reminiscence.

Not long after we were married, we bought our house. This began 10 years of remodeling projects as we worked to make it our own. We always worked so well together.

This was the last picture I pulled from the envelope: my cat looking out my old dining room window at the activity in the garden. That cat is all that I still have with me from all these pictures.

The past only has power if we allow it to. By keeping those pictures hidden for so long, I built them up in my mind and made them into more than they really are. Now they they have been released from the envelope, I find that they have also been released from my thoughts.

I only have a few pictures with me. Most of them, along with other memories, are in a sealed box in my mother’s attic across the country. I’m no longer afraid to open this Pandora’s box; I know I can handle what comes out of it.

Look Back

Posted on March 2, 2013 by stilllearning2b

Ghosts of Christmas

Posted on December 24, 2012March 6, 2024 by stilllearning2b

Christmas can be such a polarizing season. Some people are enraptured by the sights and sounds, while others, lamenting what they have lost or never had, fall into despair. Why is it that a holiday can have so much power to drive our emotions? Why are some okay with their lives from January through November, but then feel despondent about their lot when the month clicks over to 12? Why do others allow stress to accumulate throughout the month, only releasing it with the ribbons on Christmas mornings? How is it that a holiday that emphasizes togetherness creates intense loneliness in so many?

It’s simple, really. There is no other time of the year as fraught with expectations as Christmas. And loneliness, stress, and disappointment hitch a ride on those expectations, sliding into our minds undetected. We can choose not to welcome them. We can use awareness to exorcise the ghosts of Christmas’s past and future, allowing ourselves to embrace the present and whatever gifts it brings.

Ghosts of Christmas Past

When I was young, I spent Christmas with both my parents. As with all families, we had rituals and traditions. I remember my mom making pineapple ham and my dad coming in from a bike ride, the smell of sweat blending with the scent of the pine needles on the tree. I remember the Christmas eve church services, with me squirming between them awaiting the tradition of opening one gift that night upon our return. I can picture our rides through town, viewing the lights in the trees and luminaries that lined the streets.

And then we were two. My parents divorced and my dad moved across the country. It took us some time to find our stride. Those first couple years felt empty; traditions carried out even though a critical member of the team was missing. We tried to keep it the same, fought against the inevitable change. It didn’t work. It never does.

Eventually, we created our own traditions, some carried through and some newly invented. We had a family friend join us for celebrations, her energy completing the triad. We took trips. We celebrated with other families. Sometimes we had money. Often we did not. But it didn’t matter. We let go of Christmases past and, in doing so, created wonderful Christmases in the present.

Scan 1

This was one of my favorite Christmases. My mom obtained and wrapped a refrigerator box and a washing machine box and assembled them to make a stocking. I was shocked when I woke up that morning and, at 16, it took a lot to impress me. Our family friend joined us and they both had fun laughing at me as I crawled through the endless “stuffing” that filled the stocking and surrounding wrapped gifts, many of which were inexpensive. This was a great example of how creativity and attitude matters more than money.

I’m thankful for those childhood experiences. They taught me to be flexible and to work within the present reality. As I entered into married life, my husband and I followed a similar model. We were lucky enough to be “adopted” by various families over the years. On some Christmases we traveled, and some we did not. Sometimes we saw family; more often we were devoid of blood relatives. Each year was different. And each year was wonderful in its own way.

If you have children, realize that your attitude towards the holiday is more important than any traditions. If your family has changed, it is futile to try to recreate the Christmases of the past. But that doesn’t mean that your Christmas cannot still be wonderful.

Ghosts of Christmas Future

Not everyone is haunted by the past. Some people’s expectations are fixated on the future. It is easy to allow expectations to build. We expect Uncle Bobby to act differently than he usually does and we get stressed when his good behavior fails to manifest. We picture perfect children, gleaming and squealing in glee. We envision a table piled high with delectable goodies worthy of Martha Stewart’s kitchen. We allow our minds to ponder what glorious gifts might lie just beneath the wrappings. We watch movies filled with perfect families and see commercials pushing items, implying that they will make your life perfect as well.

These daydreams may be pleasant, but they have a dark side. Unless you are visiting Martha, the spread will not be perfect. Your kids will inevitably allow grouchiness to overcome them by afternoon. You will probably not find the winning lottery ticket in you stocking. In other words, Christmas will be real. It is easy to become disappointed when we allow our expectations to grow well beyond our realities.

The ghost of Christmas future is often hardest on those who are or feel alone. The divorced parent who does not have custody over the holiday. The single person without family in town. At no time can you feel more alone than during a holiday that celebrates togetherness. But, you are only alone if you allow yourself to be. Let others know you do not have a family to celebrate with; the offers will likely come. Some of my best Christmases were spent with the families of friends or employers. If you’re willing to speak up and be vulnerable, you will find an open home and open hearts. They may not be family, but they are family for the day and sometimes that is enough.

If you prefer not to join another’s celebration, look for volunteer opportunities through church or Meetup.com. Helping others is a surefire way to get your mind off your own troubles. It may feel as though the whole world is paired up or celebrating with family, but that’s just the message, not the reality. You have choice in the matter. You can choose to suffer or you can choose to smile.

The Gift of Christmas Present

This year, my home will be full of family, yet none of them are related to my fiance or me. There is no tree in our living room, nor lights on our house. I will be serving a vegetarian spread with nary a ham hock to be found. The kitchen will be messy and the plates will be mismatched (and chipped!). But there will be laughter and games. Friendship and smiles.

It won’t be like the Christmases of the past nor will it be a celebration in an imagined future. Rather, it will be the Christmas of now. Exactly as it should be. Let go of the ghosts lamenting the past and brush of those whispering of an imagined future and be with the Christmas of the present.

I wish you and your loved ones a happy (and real) holiday:)

Are You a Mental Hoarder?

Posted on September 29, 2012May 20, 2013 by stilllearning2b

I saw a promo picture for of those hoarding shows the other day. It showed a woman surrounded by an impossible pile of stuff, trying to look strong, yet you could see the struggle on her face. I did not watch the show, but I gather that she acquired and held onto these items out of fear, that she sees the piles of clothes of objects as some sort of talisman against the evils and discomforts of the world. This may have worked for awhile, but eventually, as the stuff accumulated, so did its power. It now has her trapped, stuck, buried under the weight of that which she refused to let go of.

We see these shows or read these stories and wonder how they let it get so bad. Don’t they realize that the accumulations are smothering them? Don’t they know that many of those items are worthless? Don’t they see the freedom that comes from release. No, they don’t. They are wrapped in a security blanket of stuff that tightens around them like a serpent whispering platitudes into fearful ears.

We see these shows or read these stories and proudly declare that it could never happen to us. We would recognize that slippery slope and halt the accumulation before it grew to epic proportions. What we often fail to realize, however, is that we are guilty of the same behavior within our minds. You may not be surrounded by the tangibles of your past, but can you say the same for your thoughts? Do you let old hurts and pains clutter your mind? Are you buried under the weight of days gone by? Do you hold on to these memories and thinking patterns because you are afraid to let them go?

If you realize that outdated thoughts are cluttering your mind, read my post on Taking Out the Mental Trash to learn how you can begin to release the unneeded clutter so that you can breathe again without the weight of the past holding you down.

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