Tag Archives: acceptance

Wrong Again

Posted on by
1

Unknown-1

The impulse to judge is a strong one. Although I can be intuitive, seeing how someone holds him or herself or has a certain expression that speaks volumes about character, I can also go to a less caring place when looking at others. More often than I’d like to admit, I can dismiss someone at first glance. Sometimes, though, I’m fortunate enough to be proven wrong.

The other day I was in a group and I totally dismissed a conservatively dressed woman as someone tight, lacking a sense of humor. Well, I couldn’t have been more wrong. When she shared she had us all laughing with a wonderfully dry wit. Now, here’s a woman I wanted to know. Yet, I almost didn’t give myself the chance because of my own inaccurate conclusions.

I wonder how many missed opportunities I’ve experienced. How many people would have contributed to my outlook if I hadn’t been so judgmental. In reading a wonderful piece about a fat bride and her joyous wedding, Lindy West affirms true happiness.

9c941fb8-ab6f-4c3a-a5cb-fb6bfb330f4d-2060x1236

http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2015/jul/21/my-wedding-perfect-fat-woman

While I persist in learning to be open, I have no doubt I’ll continue to be inspired. And, thank you to those who reveal your true selves, rather than the narrow impression I forged, I am humbled.

Choices

Posted on by
3

Unknown-1Someone else doing yoga

I am not going to my yoga class today. If I go I won’t get a chance to write, and I want to go for a jog before work, too, which I won’t be able to do if I go to my class. I love yoga and will miss the stretching and the relaxation that comes from the class. Lately I’ve chosen not to go more often than I go. I miss it. But when I do go, I miss these easy mornings before long days. I miss time spent with the family in the morning, or taking Lucy, our dog, for a walk and enjoying beautiful Carl Shurz Park. With every choice I gain something and I lose something else.

ImageLucy

Unknown-2A View of Carl Shurz Park

When I was in my 20’s & 30’s I hated making choices. I felt personally responsible for others’ happiness and if I made a choice that someone didn’t like, then I felt deeply guilty. I always said, “it doesn’t matter to me, you decide.” Often I did have a preference. I preferred to go to a café rather than a coffee shop for breakfast, but I kept my mouth shut, while I silently regretted their decision. It took a long time for me to be able to voice my preferences. It’s not always easy, but I’d rather have a say in what happens, feel whatever I feel in relationship to the results than resent the ultimate outcome.

When we’ve experienced deprivation in any form making certain choices can feel daunting. We know we’ll feel a loss of what we don’t get, even as we know we’ll enjoy what we have. This has happened to me on vacations. By the time I take a vacation, I am so looking forward to the rest. Yet, because I yearn to travel the world, I am sad that I’m not choosing the Amalfi Coast over an inn in Connecticut. The practical, easier choice is the inn, which will be lovely. But the Amalfi Coast looks splendid. And, Italy is a wonderful country. If, in the end, I choose to go abroad, then I choose wander over simplicity.

6951_p1The Bee & Thistle Inn

Unknown-1Amalfi Coast

No, I am not deprived in that I get a vacation, a luxurious option in any life. But considering my options brings up all the times I had to do what I was told without being able to voice my unhappiness or disgust. The fear of the consequences of voicing my displeasure always seemed worse than just doing what I was told.   So even though my current life is not one of deprivation, making a simple choice can feel oppressive. But with practice the deprivation lessens, and the choices get easier. So, as I learn from a day without yoga , I feel more equipped to make the harder choices that life brings our way. And, I don’t feel like the old victim because I now understand that I do have a say.

18 years and counting — A Grounded-Spirituality Post

Posted on by
4

1754_110234965127_1814_n(1996)

Last week was our 18th wedding anniversary. We met online on an early AOL singles site. This was well before Match.com or JDate. This was 1996 when articles and news programs were warning us to beware of cyber dating. We did not heed their advice, and it worked out for us.

11002443_10152955301525128_2116516975_n(1997)

There’s so much I’ve learned in these years. Lesson one is that dreams do come true. Lesson two, there is no happily ever after. Relationships are messy work. I was not prepared for that. I naively came to marriage thinking that it solved problems. Even though I came late to the game, I felt loved, and isn’t that all I ever really wanted? Don’t get me wrong feeling loved is amazing. And it acts as a foundation when the shit hits the fan. I think at the beginning we thought that each of us would complete the other. Instead we found that interacting with one another brought us closer with unresolved issues that we had to address within ourselves.

For instance, I found that Larry was easy to anger. And, I didn’t want that. So, he worked long and hard on his anger issues and found ways to manage it. Low and behold, it turns out I was angry all along, but as long as I focused on his anger, I didn’t have to own my dark feelings. I didn’t like being angry, but there it was for me to feel all too often. So now I had to start working on my anger issues, the issues I wasn’t conscious I harbored. Yet, it was Larry’s freedom to express his anger that made room for me to get angry. Once we could both be angry, it wasn’t so scary to deal with his ire. And, I am learning to further explore what I always thought was a dangerous emotion.

Tonight Larry is watching The Grateful Dead while I finish this blog post in the other room. When we met we knew we were musically incompatible. I love show music and cabaret, while he loves classic rock, and was a Dead head for all of his adolescents and much of his adulthood. He taught me to enjoy more rock. And, now I appreciate the Grateful Dead for their improvisational work and their interpretive artistry. It won’t be my go-to music, but I smile seeing him happy. Conversely, I have dragged Larry to many a Broadway and off-Broadway musical. I’m let down when he gets antsy, ready to go after the first song. But I soar when I see how much he enjoys certain shows we’ve seen together.

10400243_129648920127_8359_n(2009)

I’ve learned that marriage is hard work. Sometimes it’s a matter of just getting through. When I don’t feel heard or understood, I can feel let down. Larry gets upset when he feels I’m too critical and he can’t do anything right. We both can get defensive. And if we both feel defensive at the same time, there’s bound to be a disagreement. It takes a while to untangle our positions of being right towards collaborating and accepting each other and ourselves within this marriage.

Relationships are a study in contradictions. For instance, while we both enjoy dining out, we also enjoy very different foods. I like my salads and fish, he likes his meat and potatoes. I usually like a more active lifestyle. Larry is happy to sit at home and enjoy television together. I want Larry to do more with me, but I get restless when I watch TV with him, looking around seeing small tasks to complete while at home. Conversely, I’ve learned to be more at ease relaxing and Larry has a more participates more in outside activities.

I wish there was a formula to make marriage easier. I continue to work on not taking myself so seriously, laughing more, worrying less. Larry has done a great job at listening more to what I need, engaging in uncomfortable conversations. So, as we move towards our 19th year, I am exhausted at what it takes to keep our marriage afloat, yet hopeful that the qualities that have moved our marriage to 18 years will continue to move it forward.   With growing love and mutual respect we march on.

1934038_222466290127_2484863_n2014

Walking on

Posted on by
3

Unknown-2

If I’m not aware what I’m feeling, I become acutely aware when I start walking the city. Walking through beautiful Central Park on my way to a morning appointment a runner came towards me. As far as I was concerned she was going against the clearly marked directions on the pavement. I held my ground, and when I kept walking towards her, righteously indignant about following the markers, she barely moved to get around me, whispering, “Fuck you.” I wasn’t sure I heard her right. But she was a fast runner and she was well past me when I started to think of replies. My first thought, was, “Have a nice day.” Like I said, I was feeling righteous, and I thought my fake kindness served my feelings well. Sometimes I can just stew over a simple incident like that. But it was a beautiful morning, and I had gotten a rare early start.

Unknown-1

Then I was crossing 72nd Street, it was my light, but a cyclist tore down the road. He waved at me, indicating that he’d go around me, and I smiled back. A lovely New York moment. I forgot my self-righteousness after that. I find it amazing that a mis-matched moment can embroil me, but an act of kindness lifts me to a better place.

images

This happens a lot as I walk or jog public areas. Sometimes someone takes up the whole sidewalk. He or she unconsciously walks in the middle so no one can get by. More often than not, I get irate, as if it’s my private sidewalk and I take it personally, silently cursing them out.

I went for a short jog this afternoon, but school was letting out, and, again, I got angry at the parents and caregivers who straddled the sidewalk.  Funny how I love to walk, yet I can get worked up over minor inconveniences. Perhaps my walks give me a chance to move through my emotional repertoire. An inner drama played out on the streets of New York.

Unknown-3

Accepting Our Flaws? – A Grounded-Spirituality Post

Posted on by
2

Why is it we’re so loathe to accept the darker side of our personalities? I am impulsive, impatient and impassioned. These are not my only character flaws, but it serves as a sampling. This weekend I spent more than I had budgeted, I ate more than my hunger warranted, and I got angry when things didn’t go my way. I don’t like when I feel those feelings, so I then deflect them onto others. I felt all that while away this weekend and when I got home, happy to be home, Emma was ensconced in front of the TV, and Larry was busy doing laundry. I had missed them and longed for them to greet me with joy, especially after the traffic getting home from the airport.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

IMG_0108(Emma)

They were busy living life when I interrupted them. But I was tired, and wanted some attention. I got attention, but it wasn’t the attention I wanted. It was conflictual. They would have been happy to go about doing what they were doing, but I provoked them, and then I had to deal with the upset.

I’m not proud to tell you this. I would like to share wonder and light. However, this is the messy deal with life. We behave in ways in which we are not proud. And, we have to make repairs given the upset we create in ourselves and others. I was able to work through some of my unfulfilled expectations, and Larry and Emma were amenable to engage in my self-indulgent confession and apology.

Facebook and other social media give partial glimpses into our lives. And, they often sound more glamorous than everyday life. Whatever wonderful moments we share with pictures and captions, we leave out the messier times.

Tonight I had to learn, once again, that I can ask for what I want. I didn’t this evening, but I’m one upset closer to asking for it next time. Or, if not then, perhaps the time after that  And, then maybe I’ll find other ways to express the impulsivity, impatience and impassions. I don’t think I can rid myself of my flaws. Nor do I have to pretend I’ve totally embraced my imperfections. At this point, I’m willing to admit to them and to work on listening when they show up.

pittsburgh(Visited Pittsburgh)

Memorial Day, 2015

Posted on by
3

14382

Traditionally today is the day you can safely wear white. The unofficial beginning of summer. Staying in Manhattan is a treat when so many go away. It’s such a simple pleasure. This afternoon I went for a jog on the East River and enjoyed the array of characters I encountered. The row of men fishing. Most had rods and used fish meat as bait. But some had traps and used chicken gizzards. I got thumbs up as I slowly ran by. Appreciating the encouragement I smiled back with my thumbs up for their potential catches. It was a New York moment. I passed a family ready to barbecue, a plastic checkered tablecloth on top of which were a rainbow assortment of 64 ounce sodas, yellow for pineapple, bright orange for Sunkist soda, purple for Fanta grape, and deep red for cherry. The children were playing on the grass while the moms chatted over a card game.

NYC-EastRiverPromenade-Lower

There were families riding bikes together, and other joggers, all passing me by. I didn’t care, there was a light breeze, and I was enjoying the river on one side and the thin crowds from East Harlem, upper Manhattan and the upper eastside on the promenade. I didn’t see a lot of white, but I did see people of all ages wearing vibrant colors, as if they were manufactured from the same color lots as the sodas. One guy was schlepping a cart filled with picnic booty from Cosco. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt . That’s something I don’t see often anymore. My pale blush t-shirt was wet from sweat, like a sugary pink lemonade powder as it moistens to become a beverage.

Unknown-2

My struggle to write a piece for this week belies the pleasure I enjoyed while out. So I’ll end this here, high on the memory, low on creativity. Sometimes the limits of expression confound me. But I’m laughing about it, thanks to the day.

Why Don’t I Like Her?

Posted on by
1

Ms. Garcia was fussy. She was tense and persnickety. She was one day old when I met her and addicted to meth. Understandably, she was not easily soothed.

Some of my best teachers were infants. There was a time years ago when I held babies at St. Luke’s Hospital in the nursery. It was a wonderful program initially created for newborns who were at risk for AIDS. But as crack grew to epidemic proportions, the program expanded to include drug-addicted infants. Most of the nurses were wonderful, but their work load was full, so they enlisted volunteers to help with the holding and feeding, giving the babies human touch when their families were unable to be there.

Unknown

What I found fascinating about the infants was that instinctively they felt more comfortable in some arms rather than others. While Ms. Garcia would allow me to feed her, Mr. Brown did better in the arms of Cindy, one of the pediatric nurses. We all had our favorites. Because so many of the infants were taken from their mothers following the birth, they were referred to as Mr. and Ms. So & so since few had been named.

One important lesson the babies taught me is that we are drawn to some people and not others. Prior to that, I worked so hard to have others like me. I was not a popular kid. The more I tried to fit in, the further down the social ladder I fell. It never occurred to me to check in with myself to see if I liked them. So from the time I was in elementary school I measured my self-worth by the acceptance of others. Not a winning strategy.

The babies taught me to trust my instincts. To listen to the feelings I have when around others. We all come up with reasons why we don’t like one person, or why we like another. But what I saw in the hospital nursery was that the reasons came later to us. We like whom we like. We see it most in dating. I dated a lot in my twenties. I met a lot of people who were very nice, but I still wasn’t interested in them. When I asked, I would say, “he was boring,” or, “we didn’t have the same interests.” But the truth was, it just wasn’t right. Not because of our interests, that was incidental to my initial experience with the date.

As a psychotherapist this lesson has been invaluable. Since I see psychotherapy as a path back to trusting oneself, the relationship matters. When asked for recommendations, I suggest meeting with a few therapists so a potential client has a chance of getting a good feeling about their prospective therapist. This might be the first step in learning to trust themselves.

I learned to trust myself after working with the infants, observing how and with whom they bonded.   I am grateful to the Misters and Ms.’s for this important lesson. The babies I held are in their twenties now. And I’m hopeful that they are returning to their natural state of being, in touch with their instincts. After all they gave freely and unknowingly, they deserve that, and so much more.

Unknown-1

Mother’s Day, 2015

Posted on by
2

“We are all married to the same man.”

Judy Mannarino, Talented Artist, www.judymannarino.net

DSC_0005

Mother’s Day is a day fraught with mixed emotions. We’re parents, but we’re not mothers. We wish to be mothers but we’re not. We’re mothers, but we wished we weren’t. We love our children, but we get frustrated sometimes. Our mothers are no longer here. Our mothers are here, but we’re not sure how we feel about that. We’re indebted, we’re sad, we’re expectant, we’re disappointed. We’re ambivalent.

This morning I woke up, took my shower and came into the living room/dining area when I saw a card and gift. For the first few years of motherhood, Larry, my husband, wasn’t aware that Mother’s Day meant something to me. I could say I taught him, but it would be more accurate to say I shamed him into buying cards and gifts for this very Hallmark holiday.

Today he bought me a perfect gift, a pair of high-end earbuds from Future Sonics. As a walker, good earphones make all the difference. My only issue was that he had already given me the exact same gift this past Hanukkah. I loved them then. I was neither generous of heart nor gracious when I opened the gift. I wish I could say I had a sense of humor about it. I did not. I was petty.

It’s been difficult these past few months, and I wanted an easy day. I felt hurt, and I shared that fact. I know I’m so fortunate to have a husband who wrapped a gift and made an effort, yet I felt deprived, sad, in some unexplained way. I went for a long walk. I bought some earrings as compensation. And, yet, yet, when I came home I wanted attention. Larry was preoccupied, and I again felt as if he hadn’t apologized for the gift, nor gone out of his way to make this day special for me.

He says that whatever he does isn’t good enough. And, I say that he doesn’t really go out of his way to think about what would be meaningful to me. It’s a lose/lose for both of us. One would think we could disengage from this cycle, but we don’t. I measure his love by his gifts, and he measures my love by my approval or disapproval.

images

By tonight can I see that I use him as a way not to face my own limitations. I had a beautiful day. I walked the city. And, I love New York.   I came home, and he had helped with an email issue. He did the laundry. I am working on my inclination to lean towards deprivation rather than abundance. While working on this, I will say, today I was abundantly small-minded. Maybe, just maybe, soon I will be able to say I am abundantly grateful. Until then, I will employ patience, first with myself, and then with Larry, and, Emma, our daughter.

FullSizeRender 2

Anger Management

Posted on by
1

index.1

Shortly after a lovely run in the park, and a chat in the colorful garden on this beautiful Sunday, I was crossing the street when a red mini SUV made a fast right, cutting me off. I slowed my walk so as not to be hit. I yelled into her open window, my right arm up,

“HEY!”

She gave me the finger and yelled, “Fuck You.”

I was pissed. Then I saw that she went onto my block. I silently wished her no parking space. A private revenge for scaring me, then blaming me for getting upset. As I arrived at my apartment building, I saw her car parked at a hydrant. Angry, I walked over to the vehicle. She was unloading stuff, presumably from Cosco. I walked up to her took off my sunglasses and said, “I want you to see who you almost ran over.”

“You’re nuts. I had plenty of room. Go away.”

“I don’t think so.”

It felt good to just stand there. Here was a woman who had scared me, and I felt calm, yet energized.

“You’re hassling me. Go away or I’ll call the police.”

“Please do, I’m happy to let them know that you almost ran me over.”

“Just leave. You’re hassling me.”

“No, I’m not. I’m on public property, not touching you, not threatening you, just standing.”

She took her phone out, and started taking pictures of me. Perhaps my picture might be somewhere on social media. Probably with a tag line of crazy woman hassling strangers. Let me know if you see it. I took out my phone and took a picture, too. I wasn’t sure what was motivating me, but I felt righteous. And, I was still angry. She had endangered both of our lives, and yet took no responsibility. I then crossed the street and went home. All the while she’s taking my picture.

FullSizeRender

For me this was something of an accomplishment. I spoke up for myself, I did not act out, well, maybe a little, and then I moved on. Although I was angry, I was not compelled to match her anger and denial.

For a long period of time I denied my own anger. I remember in my twenties I was in the extraordinary Kate McGregor Stewart’s acting class. We were asked to offer something to a partner. I don’t remember his name but he wished for me a shelf of plates that I could crash letting go of my anger. I cried. I was enraged, but swallowed my feelings, hating that he thought I was angry. Being a new-ager, I thought anger was negative, and I only wanted to feel positivity. It’s taken me thirty years to accept anger as one of many emotions. Ire does not negate being optimistic, it’s just another aspect of our make-up.

So, today felt good. I could be angry, and I didn’t need to deny it. Nor did I need to dramatize it. It was a moment in time. I get to write about it, and next week I’ll write about something else, unless, of course, I’m angry again.

images

Nice; A Grounded-Spirituality Post

Posted on by
1

images-1This winter got to me. I became grumpier. I’ve been quick to judge. Yet this past week something renewed my faith in others. I had a rare late dinner with a friend. We laughed and caught up, enjoying this reprieve from our busy lives. I went home on the bus, slightly tipsy from the glass of wine I enjoyed with the meal. It was rainy, so when I got home I was happy to unload my umbrella, rain coat and bags in the vestibule. I took off my rubber boots, went online and received an email. It was from a name I didn’t recognized. Luckily I read it. Noam Franklin wrote that he was the last to get off the bus and saw my bag so it brought it with him. He was ten minutes away. Maybe a 15 minute walk in the rain. I put on my soggy coat and boots, grabbed my umbrella and my dog, and took we walked in the rain. When I got to his friend’s place, Noam had a big smile on his face. And, when I wanted to give him the little money I had in my bag, he refused. Told me to, “Pay it Forward.”

Well, thank you Noam. You were thoughtful and generous. May you always enjoy the kindness of strangers. You lifted my mood, and reinvigorated me. I forgot that some, like you, are kind for no reason other than the fact that you have it in you. I forgot I didn’t have to be so cranky. You gave me back my bag and a new attitude. I won’t promise that I’m not going to be ill-tempered, but I do promise to be kind from time to time. I do promise to pay it forward.NYC_Transit_New_Flyer_5753