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.

Time Enough

Channel surfing tonight while getting my lymphedema wraps on, and came across the Miss USA pageant just as the outgoing Miss USA was taking her final walk. Her recorded comments started out as the usual sentimental tripe, so her final remark caught me off-guard and unexpectedly brought tears to my eyes:

"...I am again reminded of the butterfly, who has not months, but moments; and has time enough."

Not sure what the touchstone was. Wonder if she was quoting someone; if you recognize it, let me know!

Just Do It

Today's "crazymaker" (12 "Christian" Beliefs That Can Drive You Crazy) is: Just doing the right thing is more important than why I do it.

This is the assumption that God looks at our actions more than our motives and internal spiritual state (p.177), that he wants obedience for obedience's sake (p.181). But this attitude helps people avoid personal responsibility and follow-through, which is what the Bible really values (p.178). Cloud & Townsend define obedience as a "structure to train us in maturity, not an end in itself" (p.181).

Following God's commands always has a purpose (p.181).

My startling "a-ha" came reading quotes from Deuteronomy, such as: "The Lord commanded us to obey all these decress and to fear the Lord our God, so that we might always prosper and be kept alive" (6:24). I had always believed that these verses meant that prosperity and life were a reward for obedience. You obey, you get a good life. Which of course is confusing when it doesn't seem to come true (what am I doing wrong?). This morning I realized that God gives us these things so that we will grow (p.181), not because he's some kind of control freak. Prosperity and life are then the natural result of growth. (Aside: whenever I read about "life" or being "alive" in the Bible, I read with a different understanding of what it means to LIVE, based on the work that I've done, and that gives a whole new, more significant meaning to the passage than I learned growing up).

The chapter goes on to explain six problems with the "just do it" assumption: it substitutes sacrifice for true obedience; ignores the wholeness or integrity of a person; discourages a sense of responsibility (for our true feelings); promotes lying (you can't heal what you can't own); denies our fallenness (we can't do it alone); and devalues the power of the cross in our lives (grace) (p.182-191).

Just do it; don't ask why.
I gave up trying to talk to other Christians long ago because most of them seemed threatened by my questions. They tried to steer me in the right direction with advice like "just have faith" and "give it to God" or offering to pray for me. I've been blessed to encounter four deeply spiritual (and Christian) individuals who welcomed--even celebrated--my struggle, who taught me that I can ask because I believe, and never sent me away with pat answers (or any answers, come to think of it; just more things to look at!). Cloud & Townsend say "asking why allows us to work together with God" (Phil. 2:12-13), and that "God himself asks us 'Why?' to make us think"(p.186-187).

Beware of authority figures who demand instant, unquestioned obedience. Not only do they not represent the character of God, but they probably also have something to lose (such as control over you) by your having information (p.187).

I still struggle with church because I feel like it is the place where we should receive the most grace, and see the least. I know I shouldn't hold them to a higher standard than any other humans, because they are just human. So ironically, I am least gracious towards the church as a body (I'm learning to see individuals)! This is also my problem with "accountability", incorrectly applied. When people fail, we just tell them to try harder. We want to tell them what they did wrong, exhort them to go out and do it right, but not show them how. And I'm including myself. Instead we need to extend grace, acceptance, love, and seek to understand "what gets in your way?" so that we can truly serve each other and help each other grow. But we can't extend to others what we can't receive ourselves. And that's the hopeless cycle at church. Maybe I'm being unfair, maybe it's just not visible at my level of involvement. I'm obviously still working on this one.

The Safety Net Called Grace (p.190):

1. You try.
2. You fail.
3. You receive grace and forgiveness.
4. You suffer consequences.
5. You learn from the consequences.
6. You try.
7. You do a little better.
8. You fail.

When we know that we won't be condemned when we fail, we grow faster... Grace protects us from loss of love as we mature through trying and failing (p.191).

I know I won't be perfect until after this life is over, so I'm off the hook! (And because I'm off the hook, I can let others off the hook. That's my work, cut out for me...)

The Process

So I've been working on Scott's doublet (a sewing project--see Sew*journ). When I had enough of it assembled that it began to look like a proper piece of clothing, I slipped it on to see how it was coming together. The laughter and excitement that welled up inside me when I caught my first glimpse in the mirror so surprised me that I squealed like a delighted little girl. I've been just as happy at each step completed since then. There have been momentary disappointments where I have had to pick out stitches or re-do pieces; but instead of becoming frustrated and slogging through the correction, I found myself noticing what I had done, stepping back, looking at it like a puzzle and devising solutions with which I was ultimately pleased. A far cry from how I reacted only a year ago!

What is it about this activity (sewing) that I love so much? There is a creative element in choosing the patterns and fabrics, and the challenge of putting it all together; an element of risk as I plunge in uncertain of how this or that will turn out (faith?). But otherwise it seems so against type for me. The actual process is about precision, repetition: pin the seam, sew the seam, press as sewn, press it open, press in the direction it will ultimately lie, serge if the edge needs to be finished, edgestitch, topstitch. Repeat for the next seam. I'm usually working alone. I could cheat but there's a satisfaction in doing it well. I should find the whole affair tedious and draining. But instead the hours fly by unnoticed as I get lost in the activity of the moment. I'm surprised to feel my stomach growling so soon, to pick up the ringing phone and hear Scott say he is on his way home from work. Already??

A couple of weeks ago I dragged myself away from my sewing room to make banana nut bread (before the bananas turned completely black!). My first surprise was finding that I still had chocolate chips in the pantry. My second was discovering how much joy I experienced just measuring out the flour! I felt like singing. Always before, measuring and mixing were just things I had to do in order to get what I wanted--a loaf of chocolate chip banana nut bread. What was different about this time?

I wondered if perhaps this joy came from the nature of the activities. If I spend a few minutes mixing ingredients, in a little while I have something to eat. If I spend a few days sewing, in a little while I have something to wear. Whereas at work, I can't connect an activity like a simple phone call directly to its ultimate result. It goes something like: make a phone call, maybe reach someone, have a conversation, maybe schedule a show, prepare for the show, hold it, follow-up, earn money, use it to buy food or clothing. Too many "middle-men".

I shared this with my brother, who gave me the analogy of a fisherman taking his catch home the same day vs. a farmer waiting months for the harvest; and a friend, who suggested that perhaps it was as simple as the fact that I truly enjoy the process. Shortly after I started sewing regularly, I learned that if I focussed on meeting the deadline or keeping up with the class, I often wound up frustrated and disappointed. So I might as well take my time and enjoy the process... all of it. The end goal is still a product, but the joy and the learning carry just as much value.