Enough, already!

We just got back from a wonderful family trip to Charleston, where we toured the USS Yorktown. It has a great history.



I was reminded of the tenacity of all of the men who served the Yorktown during WWII, the determination, the heels dug in for the long fight. Young men, some of whom had never left their home towns, let alone visited abroad, were thrust into a situation not of their making, sent around the world to fight a war they'd only heard of on the radio and on news reels, and from those home on leave. Their families were back home, sacrificing for the war effort, praying for their safe return. The country pulled together, civilian and soldier alike.



Sometimes life calls on us to settle in for the long haul. We must put distractions aside and do what must be done. Perhaps not in a war zone, our battles are fought in our offices, our neighborhoods, our own brains. We are struggling with an addiction, or are preparing for a major project, or are fighting to hang on to a relationship, or we are clinging to a job that we feel we must keep to maintain a lifestyle we believe to be essential.



But there are those things we hang on to that we just need to let go. Past relationships come to mind. It's over, it's been over, it won't be starting back up, let it go. Your drive-bys aren't unnoticed, they're just annoying. Or maybe failed work assignments. The presentation DID stink, and it's over, you're not going to get a re-do, the world did NOT come to a crashing halt, let it go.



We hold on to so much, as if the past defines us. The past doesn't define us. It shaped us, but it's the past. And the past only has the power you give it. As I reflect on how the lives of those who served on the USS Yorktown were changed by the experience, I marvel at how well most of those men did once they came back to the real world. They let things go. Surely you can, too.

Doing the best that you can

Sunday afternoon, the three of us went to see "The Other Boleyn Girl," (a great film, by the way). Standing in the popcorn line behind a mother and her son, we overheard the mother's exasperated voice talking on her cell phone.

"I don't like to be called a liar! Don't call me a liar!"

Now, I have no idea who she was talking to. It could have been a friend, a family member, a credit card company--no matter. It was obvious that she was agitated. And honestly, it agitated us a little bit. We were barely on time for the film, and were in a hurry to get our snacks and sit down. I thought, "Oh, great, another cell phone addict, messing up my time table."

During this call, her son, who was about seven or eight at most, engaged my husband in a conversation. It was obvious that this child was bright and cared for. To look at his mother, one might have questioned her choices in clothing and hairstyle. Her shirt exposed a midriff, her hair was an unusual color, and there she was, talking on a cell phone while there were people waiting around to get their snacks and go sit down in the theater. It would have been easier to judge her harshly, to chalk up her lifestyle as yet another example of how the world is just one big mess.

But that child was something else. Clean, articulate, intelligent. His mother was making the effort to take him to the movies, and she didn't even get exasperated with him when he couldn't make up his mind between Milk Duds and Whoppers. She smiled at him, patted him on his head, and you could tell that the two of them, no matter what kind of life they shared, loved each other dearly.

After another line opened and we got our snacks, I couldn't help but think that she was doing her best. I don't know her journey, I don't know her struggles. I do know that she loves that little boy, and that he will be a stronger man for it.

That's all we can do, really. We can do our best and then let go. I can only do the best that I'm capable of at any given time. And that best may not be very good sometimes, but it's all I've got. When I think of the mistakes I've made, some of them whoppers, I have got to allow myself a little forgiveness! I was doing the best that I could at that time. It might not be the best I could do today, but it was the best that I had then. Does this excuse me from glaring lapses in judgement? No, but it does allow a little more space for mercy, and isn't mercy toward oneself the hardest kind to muster?

So today I've focused on that, the notion that all we have is now, and all we have is the best we can do now. We can try harder tomorrow. And we can learn from our mistakes today. But before we judge ourselves or anyone else too harshly, we must remember this truth.

And we must have faith that we'll be capable of doing better tomorrow.

Setting the tone

I had a conversation with a friend yesterday regarding morning people vs. night people. There are definitely some people who function better early, some late. You hope that you'll be able to fashion a life that allows you to work within your tendencies, but often we have to adapt as best we can, always straining at the bit to slip back into our natures. A night person has to take an early morning shift, or an early riser has to attend 8:00pm meetings. It's tough, and it can wear on a body, physically and psychologically.

I am definitely a morning person, and it's taken me a lot of years to figure that out. Now, please don't ask me at 4:45am whether or not I like to be up and at 'em before dawn, because I'll throw my alarm clock (which I never need during the week, as my body automatically wakes at 4:30 now M-F, even with the time change, which was weird for me this week), but at 5:05 when I'm up and dressed, it's a whole new ball game. Life is good! The sun will be rising soon! Anything is possible! Do I sleep late on Saturday? You bet, because my early rising pattern most definitely does not jive with most of society, and by Friday, I'm wiped out from 6-1/2 hour nights.

Since I've allowed myself to fall into my natural tendencies (whereas five years ago I'd let myself sleep until the last possible minute most mornings), although it's hard to get out of bed, once I'm out, things are great.

Try and allow yourself to discover how your body's wake/sleep cycles work the best. Don't presume that just because you've always stayed up until 11 every night that you aren't an early bird at heart. Yes, sleep is definitely important, critical, even. But so is having the time to do what you want in your day, and there is nothing like getting up a little earlier to make you feel like you've got more time for whatever you need to do.

If you're rising at the crack of pre-dawn and are walking around the world like a zombie, then maybe you aren't an early riser at heart, and perhaps there are other options to create a life schedule that works for you. I've actually questioned myself in the last few months, because by Thursday, I can feel myself winding down. However, if I'm honest, it's poor sleep hygiene that gets me into trouble most of the time (watching TV before bed, not regulating the temperature of the room, staying up ten minutes later than I need to, etc.) If I'm disciplined at getting the lights out early enough, I do just fine.

We're so wrapped up in an artificial time system that it can be enlightening to look and see how we would behave if the clocks were turned off. That's an idea for an open weekend or a vacation week, seeing just how you would sleep if you weren't on anyone else's schedule.

Sounds nice, doesn't it?

Lies, lies, lies

Someone told me a lie today and doesn't have a clue that I know it was a lie. It was an interesting lie, it was entertaining, extremely creative, but a lie nonetheless. This person might consider it more deception than lie, but it's a non-truth, which equals a lie. And I see it for what it is, and it is telling me a lot about this person that I always suspected but now have confirmed.

With all of the scandal regarding NY's governor and his apparent "issues," I've been thinking about the lies we tell each other and the lies we tell ourselves.

There are big lies and little lies, if you buy that theory. Your best friend has a new boyfriend, and asks, "Isn't he cute?" What are you going to say if he reminds you of your neighbor's Basset Hound? Cute? Well.... You might choose to hedge and answer, "And I can really tell he likes you a lot!" Telling her that you think he is unattractive isn't going to serve anyone's interests, especially yours. You lie to protect her feelings, and there is little harm in it, because the truth in this case is really about perception, and the perception that matters is your friend's, because it's HER boyfriend you're talking about.

Then there are the times when the truth, while hard to spit out, really can serve well, but we choose to lie anyway. A friend asks, "Do you think I'm a bully?" You know she is, you have heard others say that she is, you know she's alienated a lot of people because of it, but can you come right out and say it? It is information that she might be able to use, and she did ask, but it's tough to say out loud. So you might hem and haw for a while before you smile, shake your head, and say, "Of COURSE you're not a bully. Everyone else is just too sensitive..." It's a lie, but it's gotten you out of a tough spot, for now. You've set yourself up in a precarious position with this lie, and it'll probably come back to haunt you.

But what about the lies you tell yourself? "Oh, it doesn't matter that I haven't had any vegetables today. I'm healthy." Or, "Drinking four glasses of wine a night won't hurt me. I'm young!" How about, "That dryer! My pants have shrunk again!" You say the things you want to hear and avoid the reality that cuts a little too close to the bone. You don't allow yourself to 'fess up and confront yourself head on. It's like a parent who is avoiding disciplining her rude teenager because she just doesn't feel up to another fight. She tells herself it'll work itself out, and goes on living in her fog of self-delusion.

Much of the time, the lies we tell each other and the lies we tell ourselves are just avoidance maneuvers, like changing lanes on the interstate to get around a slower car. Lying can buy us a little time and keep reality at bay, but eventually reality will rear its head, often when we're most vulnerable and least able to cope. And then the piper's pay date is NOW.

When we lie and get caught, like the governor just did, we're slapped in the face with not only our own judgements but the judgements of countless others who shouldn't even be a part of our struggles. Honesty is much harder than truth a lot of the time, but it's easier, cleaner, and doesn't leave much of a scar.

And that's the truth.

Disappointments

Last week was NOT a great week. I spoke with someone over the weekend who asked, "Yeah, my week was the same, so what was up with that?" I have friends who would say that the reason the week was so dreadful had something to do with the moon and the position of planets in the sky, and I don't doubt that celestial goings-on matter to us earthlings. However, speaking with a friend today, I took some time to reconsider.

I described to this friend that last week I was frequently disappointed with the behavior of others. And she asked, "Then was it you, right?" And of course, it was. I set myself up last week. I allowed my own peeved attitude to reflect badly on people around me. It's not uncommon of course, but I'm thinking it's a bad habit that I need to break.

Right now I'm reading "Eat, Pray, Love," which by the way is a FABulous read, and I've just read through a part about controlling one's thoughts. The author has met someone who tells her that she must have control over her thoughts to find the peace/fulfillment she seeks.

I've always believed that feelings are feelings, uncontrollable, surprising, and trying to control feelings is like herding cats. But controlling thoughts? Could I buy into the notion that I really could control my thoughts and weed out those negative, self-distructive thoughts that make me grind my teeth and doubt my very purpose? Well, why not? But would I? Would I take the effort to step out of my thought patterns and direct my brain to walk down another path?

I don't know. Something to consider.

High-class problems...

Whine, whine, whine.
This has been a week of whining, to my mother in particular, who I'm sure rolls her eyes and thinks, "Oh, if she only KNEW what troubles are..."
Last year this time, when our entire family seemed to be in one health crisis after another, I would have jumped through hoops of fire to have a week like I just had, but now that our health issues have resolved, I'm whining because of this and that little thing.
It's the whole Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. Once you've got the basics covered, hunger, shelter, social contact, job, THEN you can go on to nitpik at everything else.

Am I fulfilled?
Does my life have meaning?
Will I leave the planet a better place when I'm gone?
Are there people who wish that exit would happen sooner rather than later?
Gee whiz.

I expect too much from everybody, not just myself. I expect people to be charming, receptive, interested, and when they're not, I feel that I've failed. Sometimes I'm sure I have, but all the time?
Oh, it's the whole only-child-center-of-the-universe curse rearing its ugly head again.
When we (I'm speaking of me now) are too self-absorbed with how others see us, we fail to remember that we are NOT the reason most people are the way they are. Someone not responding in the way you'd like doesn't necessarily mean that you've misspoken or hurt their feelings or done your job poorly. Perhaps they don't feel well. Maybe they heard some disturbing news earlier. Maybe they're just tired and not in the mood to learn or to be entertained.
Oh, this hypersensitivity is a pain.
But again, this is a high-class problem.

Spring, huh?

OK, so I hit the wrong button the other day, so be it. I didn't really have anything I was desperate to get out into cyberspace, so I'll let that one be a miss.
It rained last night! And the thunder! Yippee!
As we went to bed last night, the thunder and lightning was booming and flashing, and I'd seen on the news that there was a tornado sighting near by. So, being a responsible parent and spouse, I determined to listen for any impending doom rolling down our street...
Was that a freight train I heard? Or something much more sinister? Or was that a car....
What was THAT!?! Oh, that was another car.
Why is it suddenly so quiet?
Whah? Oh, that was the cat...
This went on for hours until the rain and the storm stopped, and then it just kept on going...
Do I have my presentation materials mapped out for that class on Thursday....
What should I do about training...
Could that be an issue that comes up...
I'm hot.
I'm cold.
I'm hungry.
Is my nose stuffy?
Can't sleep.
Can't sleep.
Can't remember HOW to sleep....
What is my place in the universe...
How long can I go before I die from lack of sleep...
How much sleep MUST I have to teach the 5:45am bike class this morning....
Should I even TRY to sleep now, or would I be better off just knitting something.
I can't knit. Mom taught me, and I've already forgotten.....
How do you hold the needles?
What exactly holds a sweater together?
What is a purl?
Knitting? Crocheting? Macrame? Weaving on a loom?
STOP IT! GET OUT OF BED AND READ OR WATCH TV OR SOMETHING!!!!
This went on until 3:30 this morning, when, with only an hour and a half left before my alarm, I crawled back into bed after having watched a movie and a half in the dark downstairs den.
I crawled back in, snuggled under the warm covers, and started to wonder....
Should I create a fresh handout....
How many people will be there....
Should I bring in chairs....
How detailed should this get....
Why IS the sky blue?
Where IS WALDO?

Sleep deprivation, even for one night, is toxic. It happens to me occasionally, although hardly at all compared to even five or ten years ago, and it really throws my view of reality off a couple of notches. I referred to the floor as the ceiling in my first yoga class this morning.
This should be an interesting day...

Spring?

Use it up, wear it out?

This morning, I had yet another conversation, this time with a total stranger, about using up one's body parts instead of letting them lie fallow.
I'd been listening to NPR earlier and had learned that Prince, yes the same Prince who for a time was The Artist Formerly Known as Prince, the same Prince who did Purple Rain, the same Prince whose voice and music was part of the soundtrack of my college years, is having a hip replacement.
WHAT!!!!??????
Prince? A hip replacement? Can purple orthopedic shoes be far behind?
I'd walked into a department store just after hearing this interesting bit of information, when what came over the speakers but Let's Go Crazy. Just as the song hit the chorus, a gentleman walked by saying to his companion, "Yup, that's Prince." I interjected, "Yeah, and he's getting a new hip!"
The gentleman and I talked about this for a moment, and we both agreed that it was better to have worn out one's hip from overuse than to have let it go stiff and useless from sitting on one's duff.
It's a trade-off. If you don't exercise at all, your joints stiffen up, and if you exercise too much, they can wear out. A perfect balance seems a bit of a challenge, but I guess until someone really grows usable cartilage in the lab, we'll have to muddle through. For me, as I try to hum loudly whenever I go up stairs so as not to have to listen to the grinding sounds emanating from my knees, I think I'll take some precautions but not too many. After all, I've got a life to live.

Wearing out one's hip for Little Red Corvette and the countless other hits that helped define a generation? Only Prince can determine whether or not it was worth it.
I hope he thinks it was.