Memory Slammed

Posted on by stilllearning2b

This morning, I traveled across town to meet a friend. I ended up with a few minutes to spare, so I stopped in to a Home Depot near her house to peek at the stock in the nursery (starting to get excited about planting again!).

I was over in the area where I used to live and now only visit infrequently. For years, I dreaded traveling back there as every landmark was full of memories like an overripe fruit, sweet bordering on putrid.

But the last couple years, it’s been okay. I can drive the road by my old house and not tense up. I can enter stores and restaurants and not be pulled back to the past.

So today, I walked into Home Depot with no thoughts of the past and no fear or anticipation of memories.

Which perhaps is why it hit me so hard.

I was memory slammed when my back was turned.

I entered in through the nursery, greeted the few shrubs on display, and then crossed the store to visit the restroom. It was as though the bathroom stall was a time machine. As I exited the room and rounded the corner of the hall, I was immediately pulled back to a time about 6 years ago when I left that same bathroom to join my then-husband in line at the register. For a few dozen steps, I was in the past. I was fully expecting to walk up on my then-husband, perhaps slip an arm around his hips, and talk through our plans for the afternoon. It was only when an employee asked if I needed assistance, that I snapped back into the present moment.

It wasn’t painful. It wasn’t like a trigger, initiating an avalanche of memories. It was just odd, jarring, like that transition from one temperature extreme to another that takes your breath away as you adjust.  The memory faded as quickly as it came, leaving me more bemused than upset. After all, it’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s just a memory.

And now I’m off to a different Home Depot with my now-husband to pick up supplies to put the finishing touches on the theater. And I’ll be happy to slip my arm around him while we wait in line. No time machine needed.

 

A Cynic’s Guide to Valentine’s Day

Posted on by stilllearning2b

So you thought you were safe? You survived the holiday season and you were beginning to settle back into normalcy. And then… Wham! Back with the sappy commercials. Out come the gaudy decorations. The messages of material happiness are yet again bombarding our senses from every direction.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Read the rest here.  And then have a great day!

I Was Wrong

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I was wrong.

Very wrong.

And I couldn’t be happier about it.

When we were house hunting last summer, Brock expressed his lifelong dream of converting a basement into a theater. I responded with my not-a-lifelong fear of basements.

No, really. Read this.

As the house hunt became a home reality, this became a source of tension as he was responding with excitement about the proposed entertainment room and I was countering with trepidation.

That damned basement in my old life has almost a personified flavor of evil in my mind. It contained the molted skins of the man I loved as he morphed into some dark creature. It hid his secrets. It protected him as he carried out his nefarious deeds. It swallowed him for ever increasing hours as the marriage sped towards its inevitable and spectacular end. I was living atop a portal to hell.

And I was afraid that another basement might also serve as a conduit of corruption. That my new husband might also fall sway to whatever whispers arise from the blackness beyond the concrete walls. That he would be swallowed and return changed. That a new portal hell would be opened and new demons welcomed in.

But I was wrong.

Completely and spectacularly wrong.

He was largely on his own on this project due to my schedule and my general hesitancy about the undertaking.

And he has done a great job, turning a half-finished grubby former office into a slick and comfortable theater.

A theater for us.

For our friends.

It is not a place to hide.

It is a place to connect.

In fact, even with my stupidly early bedtimes, he rarely goes down there alone.

It wants to keep it special.

And it is.

I was wrong.

Very wrong.

And I couldn’t be happier.

The only demons in this space are imagined on the screen. And those can only hurt me if I allow them to.

A Flexible Marriage

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I really hope that no one ever judges me based on how I was in 7th grade – chubby cheeks, bad perm, a chronic case of math ineptitude and an embarrassing obsession with Bon Jovi. Of course, some of my core traits are largely unchanged but, the 7th grade me was a beta version on a good day and a mere prototype on the bad.

photo-13
Not Jon Bon Jovi, but another one of my obsessions – Kyle from Pariah:)

For people that have known me since 7th grade, our relationships have changed, altered by time and mutual growth. The core bond is still there, but some of the details have been altered based upon individual refinements.

I wrote a piece recently on the need for adaptation to the dating world for the newly single. That’s not the only place that adaptation is required. In fact, for anyone or anything to survive a changing environment, adaptation is a necessity.

And that includes marriage.

We often here about the key traits of successful unions: communication, respect, honesty. Those are all true. Yet I add another to the list.

Flexibility.

Marriage exist in a larger world that provides ever changing challenges for the union. The marriage that works for young and childless twenty-somethings who live in town won’t work ten years later in a suburban neighborhood with two kids. And the marriage that works while raising kids won’t work once they are gone. The marriage that evolved for one partner to work will have to adapt when both are employed. The marriage that negotiated a balance between a timid partner and a stronger one must be revamped when confidence is found.

If a marriage is to survive, it has to adapt to its environment.

Marriages are often pictured as inflexible strongholds. The problem with that is image is that it is identical to that of a prison. A marriage that is strong but unbending does not allow for change within itself or its partners. When it no longer matches the needs of the environment, it becomes a jail.

And no one wants to be locked down.

Instead of the ball and chain image, think of bungie cords – strong enough to support a life hurling from the skies yet flexible enough to wrap around your wrist.

Strong yet flexible.

We resist this. We easily relax into the status quo. We fear change. We want to think that the the it is is the way it will always be. It’s scary to realize that your partner will change. It’s scary to contemplate how environmental pressures may challenge your marriage. But a head in the sand won’t make change go away. It just means you can’t respond.

Sometimes what a marriage needs is not more time in the weight room building up its strength but some time on the yoga mat, stretching and releasing.

Longevity is found with flexibility and and adaptation. If it’s going to last, it has to change.

And that includes my bad perm.

 

This post was inspired by a piece by Vicki Larson over at OMG Chronicles about acting divorced while you’re married. Check it out!

Authentic Cubic Zirconia

Posted on by stilllearning2b

He drops to his knee.

Reaches in his pocket and pulls out a small box.

As it opens, you catch the unmistakable sparkle of a diamond.

Or is it?

Perhaps it is merely the suggestion of a diamond, manufactured crystal crafted to resemble the real thing.

So answer this –

Which would you rather receive – a fake diamond or authentic cubic zirconia?

In the first, the ring is presented as authentic, the hard stone born from eons under pressure.

In the latter, the ring is presented as what it is. Somewhat less than ideal, but entirely real.

 

In my first marriage, I chose the fake diamond of a relationship. On its surface, it was perfect. And I didn’t want to know the truth, the production that made it so beautiful. He told me it was real. Staged elaborate demonstrations to prove it was real. And I bought it, hook line and sinker.

And then, it was as though I went to sell the ring of the marriage in desperate need of money, only to find that it was worth merely pennies.

And now?

Now I proudly have a marriage of authentic cubic zirconia. It’s real, not perfect. It took intention and effort to form rather than the accidental and incidental creation of a diamond.

It’s beautiful, reflecting light into the dark corners. No illusion is needed to amplify its sheen.

There is no need to pretend it is more than it is. No need for the dance of words to create perceived value. No need for endless productions to convince others of its authenticity.

What it is is enough.

Imperfections and all.

After all, life is more beautiful with imperfections intact.

When we reveal and even embrace our humanness and accept it in others.

When we work to create beauty rather than illusions.

 

So, I ask you again. What would you prefer?

A fake diamond

or

Authentic cubic zirconia?