I'm Back

Just returned this evening from the Southern Living At HOME national convention in Atlanta. I'm reeling... so much inflow, so much to process! A few highlights: Sandi Patty... Tom Barret... David Phelps... a new compensation plan that brings qualifications in line with target behaviors (really the first tumbler in the lock that made me consider committing the Year that Jerry asked us for)... Connie Ashburn and Lori Grimes revelation that 2.5 years (where I am) is the place where many feel they are working harder and earning less, and that this is the ONE-YARD LINE, and many give up before making the touchdown, which comes in years 3-5 (the second major tumbler to click in my head). Diane Mooney saying that when we ask someone to join us, we are really saying "I've got to get you into my life!" Loving on Brenda and Kelly, and being loved on by them--that connection all weekend was what I needed most, and made me feel most warm and alive. Discharge, lots of it, and not in any of the places I expected. A stunning note from Katie... wow, in one weekend, this is what she gets from me? Holy cow. Have not yet been able to fully receive it.

Steel

Feeling much better today...

Found out over the weekend that both Alleve Cold & Sinus and Nyquil contain the same active ingredient as Sudafed--the one that won't let me sleep! So in addition to being sick, I couldn't get any rest.

For our 11th anniversary Saturday, Scott gave me the traditional gift of steel in the form of a solid three-pound brick which he milled himself; every plane is exactly 90 degrees to its neighbors. It's a nice follow-up to last year's eight-ounce block of solid aluminum (the traditional 10th anniversary gift--who comes up with these things??). The year before he surprised me with two gigantic planting pots for the patio (the 9th anniversary is, you guessed it, pottery). I really enjoy his engineer-brand of creativity! So this year I jumped into his game, and gave him a set of steel tools he'd been after.

Since I wasn't feeling well, we decided to forgo the nice dinner out in favor of a dvd ("Hitch") and Chinese take-out (chicken soup, in my case). We also hooked up Xbox Live and installed the new Halo2 maps. He spent a lot of time with me (when I wasn't drugged or asleep) and I soaked up the attention.

The other night I had a chance to hook up with my brothers for a few games on Xbox Live. It's a totally different animal from playing split-screen with Scott! First of all, Scott and I are pretty evenly matched--Ron and Jeff are way out of our league. Secondly, no glimpses of my opponents screen to clue me in on their location. Lastly, a free-for-all between five players is a lot more confusing than a one-on-one! Needless to say, I got whipped. The guys took turns putting me on their teams, since I was an asset to no one!

Relativity

Integration = one life. It's amazing how everything is related. The last couple of weeks I've been in a low-energy slump (see previous posts). With Star Wars Weekends over and my vacation pieces completed, I decided to work on some repairs: an alteration, a broken zipper, a hem. I don't think I ever worked so slow in my life! Not only were the tasks themselves uninspiring (though educational), but they played right into my current struggle with "I can't get ahead"--they felt like tasks I would never finish! That day I actually packed up and left class early--I'm usually the last one to leave.

So last week in class I made a conscious decision to start something different and new. In one day, I nearly completed a new pair of capris-length pants in a fun, flowy print... AND found the energy to complete my repair jobs later in the week at home. Even in sewing, consciousness and intention made a difference!

Connection is everything

Every day I write a new post in my head, but somehow it never makes it to the computer screen. I'm probably waiting until I can write it perfectly... So, changing tracks here: this blog is no longer limited to Deep Thoughts. I'm going to write them anyway, but I'm giving myself permission to record anything I feel like writing on a given day without first evaluating it. After all, it's for me, isn't it? I'm guessing I'll have to remind myself frequently!

Today, the eve of my 11th wedding anniversary (16 years, 1 month with Scott)... feeling unfortunately crappy. Have either a bad summer cold or the beginnings of a lovely URI. And just as my energy was coming back (way to rub it in the "I CAN'T WIN" wound!)! The last three days have been my best in several weeks, during which (I finally realized) I've been in a sort of numb, mildly depressed state. Wednesday, far from being "hump day", was my highlight of the week--a full, active day from the minute I got out of bed at 8:30AM and didn't feel like getting back in, till I fell asleep without a book around midnight. A far cry from Tuesday only a week ago, when I woke up and clearly thought, "I have no reason to get up today." I attribute the difference to some hard work and good attention from group, friends, Scott, and complete strangers, including two Publix checkout clerks who noticed and remembered me! Connection is everything... I'm actually feeling better just writing about this!

One of my hardest tasks was to ask Scott to step up so that I could take a break. It's like I've been sliding down an uphill climb--can't win, can't get ahead, can't make a difference, don't matter. It feels good to have made a decision to REST. (Yes, I think I made a decision!) What that's going to look like in practice, guess I'm going to find out! I want to be clear on the difference between "resting" and "giving up"--for so many years they meant the same thing.

Did I say I wasn't going to write Deep Thoughts? I don't think so...!

There's always more laundry

No matter what i do, there's always going to be more laundry.

defeatedness. i just want to win, i want to matter, vs.. no matter what i do it doesn't make a difference.

woke up this morning with clear thought: i have no reason to get up today.

life is a series of disconnected activities--work, laundry, sewing, fun or not. they don't fit into a scheme, purpose, reason for being. it's not like i'm trying to be a good housewife, can't see how it fits into a larger picture of making a comfortable home or building a career.

containment is becoming an exercise, vs. real curiousity. it looks, smells, feels, sounds like containment, but it's exhausting instead of connecting.

truth can be fierce. "you may not feel safe, AND you are safe, so go for it".

Adventure on the 4th

Yesterday at church we recited the Pledge of Allegiance at all three services... and every time I started to cry. Almost didn't finish it the first service, and assumed it wouldn't affect me the next two...

Ended our 4th celebration today with a little adventure! We took the boat out to see what fireworks we could catch from the lake. Usually we can see the tops of the big shows from downtown, around the city and the sky-glow from the theme parks, as well as sometimes spectacular local stuff going up around the lake. Since the weather was clear today (first time in weeks!) and fire danger low (ha!), I guess people stockpiled fireworks, b/c it seemed especially noisy. So we decided to take Arrow with us.

Everything was great as we headed out--not too muggy, a breeze to keep bugs from gathering on the nav lights, and some fancy rockets already going up along the shore. Crossing into the northwest lake, we felt the first raindrops. A few minutes after we staked out our observation spot, we saw the rain marching across the lake. Assuming it would blow over, we huddled under the bimini and waited. Arrow got the dry spot, the driver's seat, where (for a wonder) she sat calmly. When the wind was in danger of blowing us into shore, Scott cranked up the engine and motored slowly away. We figured if we headed home at a sedate pace, we could stay reasonably dry and avoid rain sheeting under the bimini.

Then lightning flashed, and all bets were off! Scott pushed the motor with a little more urgency. With the next two lightning strikes (one which I thought I saw touch down), he revved it up and let it go! He got the worst of it; even though he had the rain jacket, he kept ducking around the windshield so he could see where he was going (he said later, amazing how little you can see without windshield wipers!). I had wrapped a large towel around my waist and another thrown over my head and shoulders; they and the jacket underneath got soaking wet, but kept my shirt mostly dry. I sat behind Scott with my back to the rain. Arrow was in the rear, and seemed perfectly content to rest her chin on the side of the boat, for all the world like hanging her head out the car window in a driving rain!

As we neared our cove, I could already see fireworks resuming (they all seemed extinguished when the rain started) on the south side of the lake. Strange. Then when we got home, we turned the t.v. on and the downtown fireworks were high and dry! Doppler showed a narrow squall line that just sprung up and hit us!

Scott rammed the boat up the shore and we all jumped out and ran for it. He went back after to tie it up. We looked like a pack of drowned rats. I was in the best shape and toweled Arrow off, and brought a dry one for Scott--he had to strip at the back door. What the f!!! he laughed. Next time we'll check the weather report!

I felt high and laughing, the most alive I've felt in days. So weird though that downtown, less then 10 minutes away was in the clear! Too bad the fireworks were uninspired. It's almost 11 now and there are stillrockets going off--guess everyone has to use them up now that it's stopped raining!

Who am I?

"I'm so glad I can stop pretending to be someone else, so I can go back to pretending I'm me again." -Luanne, King of the Hill

Perfect!

Choose

People don't really belong to each other, Joan, no matter what kind of contract they sign. They choose each other every day.
-God (as a school hall monitor) to Joan, Joan of Arcadia

Being Myself

Last Friday at Marcie's I confessed that my secret fear about why I'm so involved in costuming is that I really want to be someone else. This was, after all, true for a long time (like wishing I was a boy) and I still struggle with it. Sometimes, when I consider how much time I'm spending on costuming (and sewing in general), the thought scares me and I wonder if I am getting completely out of balance.

Anyway, she thought a moment and reframed it brillliantly for me: How about, you're expressing the different sides of yourself!

So in a way, I'm really being myself... I'll take it!

Idiosyncracy

I learned something astonishing over the weekend... Tagalog (the Phillipine national language) doesn't use genders! You have to get it from context, or specific references to male or female persons. I was asking Mom to translate something when she explained this to me. "That's why we have so much trouble with 'she' and 'he'," she said.

Gramma had more trouble than Mom, and in my mind's eye I saw myself correcting her as she shook her head, annoyed at herself. I'd heard stories of what a sharp businesswoman she was in the Phillipines, seen photos of her successful shop, knew she'd been in political inner circles, but could never reconcile these things with the image of my perpetually befuddled grandmother. I knew her to be stubborn at best, manipulative at worst, and very proud. Granpapa made fun of her English, which made all of us kids angry, only his English was worse.

Suddenly a dozen tumblers in my head clicked into place and triggered a cascade of emotional reactions. In 34-1/2 years, why had I never known this? It was simultaneously eye-opening and confusing. Part of me saw my grandmother in a curious new light, while another part struggled with some feeling of betrayal, and another grieved for all these years laboring under misconception. Right now, I'm amazed and confused at the depth of my reaction at the simple discovery of an idiosyncracy in my mother's native tongue. It might not have made much of a difference, but I can't help feeling it would have made some difference.

And now, all of a sudden, I want to learn this language. I always wanted my future children to learn it, never hoping that I could even begin to decipher it at my age even if I had the dedication. I'm remembering, ironically, how much difficulty I have remembering the difference between two simple greetings (much less adapting to a system laden with gender pronouns!). But even a few words and phrases will be enough.

Expectations

Joyce Meyer today, on why couples can get bitter: dashed expectations.

Your spouse doesn't meet your expectations. The problem is, half the time they don't know you're expecting it! So either (a) learn to communicate your needs, because spouses aren't mind-readers; or (b) what you want is not a need you can expect them to meet, such as "make me happy".

This is why we have to give each other the road map to what we need. But after spending a lifetime ignoring our own needs, they are so difficult to name!

Downshifting

Conflict is growth trying to happen. The last few weeks (months?) we've been hitting the same wall over and over, painting the target for where we need to grow next. We're ready for a shift in our relationship, to the next level. But change is never comfortable and so we have creatively invented new and subtle ways to preserve the status quo.

For my part, I used to know how to handle this particular conflict, which I did quite successfully. But lately I just feel frustrated, drained, and tired. Denied the momentary satisfaction of my old pattern (getting the last biting word, leaving the room), but too exhausted to take genuinely loving actions instead, I've created an escape. I go to a neutral place, where physically I remain but emotionally I go flat, neither angry nor loving, creating for Scott the illusion of connection and for myself an alternative to the high road.

I'd noticed this change, but not been able to name it until we discussed a homework assignment in group. Then I realized, it's as wrong as the old pattern was, which made me feel even more frustrated and tired. And what's wrong is not just the way I'm enabling Scott, but how I'm abandoning myself in the process. (It's true... you really are just hurting yourself.)

A friend said, feeling drained and exhausted usually precedes the paradigm shift for him; and so for this reason he was glad and encouraged me. Listening to him, I got an image of myself downshifting to go to the next gear, of gathering myself for the change, instead of giving up from exhaustion.

Now whether I'll be able to follow through remains to be seen. The actions I need to take cause me nearly as much anxiety and guilt as the relief I know they will bring. But I know the only way out is through. And if I fail, well, that's why there's grace, and safe people to help me try again.

Ebullience

I'm costuming again. I feel so creative, powerful. Experimenting, problem-solving, getting inspired, figuring things out as I go. It's a heady feeling, discovering I am capable (like I felt wielding the air gun on the re-upholstered chair). But there's more. An ebullience, a lightness, lifting, excitement, anticipation... joy? Giddy, giggly in an I-can't-wait sort of way; it's going to look really good! But as always when I notice it, I am already trying to quell it, press it back down to flat neutrality. Why am I not allowed to feel excitement, anticipation? It's like when I first surfaced from depression and recognized a feeling I had not had in years... optimism. It feels like this. The obvious answer would be a recording like "don't get your hopes up". Don't we all know that one! But this--ebullience--I want to feel!

Contradiction

Contradiction: correct information which gives the opposite information from the wound, and is the truth.

This afternoon Scott took a break from his work on the roof to help me reupholster a chair. The follow-through of attention, which he'd agreed to give me when I asked a couple of days ago, was healing enough; but the biggest impact came from another, unexpected contradiction.

We disassembled the chair, pried off dozens of staples holding the old fabric in place, and peeled it off to use as a template. I was going inside to cut the necessary pieces of new upholstery and asked Scott if he was coming to help. He had already turned his attention back to the roof, so I expected to be denied; had in fact already steeled myself for the disappointment. He turned, paused a moment as if considering, and replied, "No, you've got it." His tone was casual, almost cheerful, and conveyed complete confidence in my ability to handle the task.

My mouth was already open to automatically ask, wheedle, protest that I wanted him to help me, but the words were literally snuffed in the back of my throat. A stunned moment of confusion, disorientation; inside I reeled, trying to process this information. This did not compute with the emotional and verbal response I'd prepared. Instead of feeling abandoned, I felt unexpected pleasure. He'd just imparted to me the knowledge that I was absolutely capable of doing this myself, and I knew he was right. I actually wanted to do it myself! Marveling, all I could say--all I needed to say--was, "thank you!"

He came in once and asked how it was going, and I knew I had it under control. I'm still wondering over the whole thing: surprise at his uncharacteristic response, but mostly chagrin over how easily my pattern came to the fore (I didn't even know my mouth was open until I realized the automatic reply didn't fit!), and gratefulness that I had the space in which to catch it and receive the gift Scott gave me.

Another gem

Anything worth doing is worth doing badly at first!

You gotta stand for something or you'll fall for everything

You gotta stand for something or you'll fall for everything.

Last night I attended a training meeting with our national sales director. Jerry shared a few things I expected, a lot that made sense, and a few things that surprised and impressed me. Quite a bit was therapeutic, wisdom that rang true for me because I have been learning it in group and at home for three years now. Yet with all my "expeience" I still forget it applies in all areas of my life!

Decisions we make determine the direction we take. The direction we take determines our destiny.

Like... Decisions come from the way we think. Wrong thinking [recordings] doesn't serve us. There is a constant conversation going on inside each of us; we talk ourselves into things, good and bad, all the time. All or nothing thinking. [Paying attention to what's missing vs. what's here.]

If the eyes are the pathway to the soul, then lanuguage is the pathway to how people think. You can know where people stand by the language they use.

How long since I caught myself using an absolute?

Learn to ask questions, have a genuine interest in others. Isn't that being present and getting really curious? I've considered this before: attend my shows in containment (setting aside my fear and what's going on for me), be present with the people who are there, connect. I thought: this is healing... I can offer a little healing attention to each person, no matter how brief. Jerry says direct sales is a "heart" business (vs. sales, which is head games); the only way to get what you want is to serve others in relationship.

Two things helped me the most:

(1) Although he challenged us to do what's right instead of doing it our own way ("put your ego in your back pocket and sit on it"), he kept emphasizing that we need to do it the way that works for us. Define my own success; don't let other people fill my cup with their dreams; use words that work for me; place elements of the presentation in places that work for me; read or listen to the people who speak to me. Only I am uniquely me, and I'm at my best when I'm being myself.

And the corollary:

(2) Decide whether my business is a "big rock", a priority. If it is, look at what's getting in my way of treating it like one. If it's not, either quit or intentionally reduce my activity so I can attend to my happiness instead of my guilt!

The Next Useful Thing

This morning I'm paging through my new Close to My Heart catalog and feeling inspired to break out the scrapbooks and card-making supplies (currently gathering dust in their handy storage drawers). It reminds me of when I first started sewing...

Whenever I get involved in a new activity, it's easy for me to get excited and caught up in collecting all the "necessary" tools, accessories, etc. It starts out innocently enough--I create a simple project using the most basic equipment, find it fun or fascinating, and decide I want to do more. But then I get stuck because it's got to be perfect: I'll just wait until I have one more tool, take one more class, find the perfect materials. Or pick the "right" project... I can't decide what to do next! When I first started sewing, I shared this with a friend who suggested simply, "do the next useful thing."

That very evening Scott walked through the door and said, "I have an interesting challenge for you..." He wanted to adapt a store-bought seat pad to fit in his new truck. Bells went off in my head--could this be The Next Useful Thing?! (See what I mean, about the universe using every possible venue to get my attention?) It involved removing the binding, cutting the pad to size, and replacing the binding. Together we measured, cut, and sewed. It wasn't glamorous; we did it with ruler, marker, scissors and the straight stitch on my 30-year old Kenmore hand-me-down machine. But in its own way it was creative. It worked so well we made another for the passenger seat.

A couple of weeks ago we stood in the middle of the Dockers outlet store, frustrated by the lack of choices in Scott's size. He's between two waist sizes, which when you add that he is also between lengths, makes it difficult to find slacks in colors he likes! After stepping out of the fitting room wearing another too-long pair, he looked up suddenly and asked, "can you shorten these?" I was dumbstruck. After spending the last year learning to make entire outfits, why hadn't I thought of taking up a hem?? This was The Next Useful Thing.

Yesterday I finished hemming the third and final pair of Scott's new slacks. Somehow this brings me immense satisfaction. My handiwork benefits the person I love the most; Scott's everyday world is made just a little bit better by this small service. Sometimes I think he doesn't notice or value my activities or skills. But then he asks me to do something, something important to him, that demonstrates his confidence in me. The rest is gravy.

Think I'll go see if he'd like some breakfast... :)

Trixie's Insight

Today's Hi & Lois strip:

[Source: Seattle Post-Intelligencer: Hi and Lois]

Unbelievable! It seems that when I'm ready to deal with something, it uses every possible venue to get in my face! It's probably more accurate to say that as the next challenge surfaces, I become conscious of "clues" that are always present but that I have never noticed in that particular way. The last couple of weeks have been about women: my inability to trust them, get close to them, and "fit in" (not even wanting to). Everything from the topic I chose to complete a process in group, to my experience at a home show, to a chance email from the men's game night gang, even the clothes I've been picking out lately have all pointed in the same direction. What I get from this comic is, it's not just me... Marcie says to start looking at the ways women are wounded and really having empathy for them. Even the comic strip baby gets it!

No Comment

This week, I finally gave someone the URLs to my blogs. Was I ready? I don't know. Good friend that she is, she had the insight to ask whether I wanted a response. Wow, I instant-messaged back, let me think about that and get back to you. Over the next 24 hours I realized that the part of me that is desperate for approval wants lots of feedback and comments that will make me feel good. And it's the part of me that is afraid of being judged and criticized that has kept me from giving out the URLs in the the first place (of these blogs, and the aborted attempt at one 18 months ago. That one I wound up keeping on my local drive as a personal journal!). So I have two recordings to replace: the one that says my voice is worthless (no one is listening, anyway), and the one that says it's only as good as others say it is (well, maybe those are the same recording). Add to the mix what if I'm wrong and it has to be perfect, and you have me paralyzed in fear. The patterns to push against are constantly seeking approval (what do you think?), and hiding my work altogether to avoid disapproval. Even writing now, you better believe I am watching my grammar and carefully screening my choice of words (isn't the point of a blog not to worry about that stuff? my friend asked)--a subtle piece of the pattern that will be hard to unwork.

So here is what I need: To be thanked and appreciated for sharing my thoughts. I don't need evaluation (good or bad) or advice (good or bad--heh!). At least not yet. Just a safe space and the knowledge that it is okay to speak, even perhaps that my voice is welcome. When that is settled in me, I'll be able to engage in more discussion.

The Illusion of Control

In an earlier post ("Just Do It"), I quoted Cloud & Townsend (demanding authority figures "probably also have something to lose (such as control over you)...") and wrote about how we tell others what they are doing wrong and to try harder. I figured there was some kind of co-dependence involved, that our response has to do with not wanting to feel the way we do when we're around them; perhaps our own vulnerability, or recognizing the same sin in ourselves. Got some new insight yesterday: when we try to control (protect, rescue) others, what we don't want to feel is our own powerlessness.