Posted on Feb 23, 2019
February is a funny month. The first half is focused on symbolic gestures (large and small) of romantic relationships. After Valentine’s Day, the Holly wood award season no longer has to share the spotlight; and social culture becomes hyper-aware of what awards celebrities win and what they wear to award shows. My focus is going to return to the former subject: love. In an odd coupling, it occurred to me that Saints serve a similar purpose to super-heroes and celebrities: those to admire and emulate. But Saint Valentine aside, I want to focus on the modern fascination with love and romance.
“Love is just a word until you meet someone who gives it meaning…” paraphrase from a line in the movie, “Book Club.”
Of all the subtle and not-so-subtle quips and quotes I’ve been handed over the years about love, this one rings the most true. I made some very misguided decisions based on the concept that love is a choice and takes work. In a nutshell: love = committment. [Something very doable for me.] But totally dismissing chemistry and connection. Not to mention mutual respect, consideration, and loving kindness. And now we know scientifically what it takes for a romantic partnership to last long-term: consistent, reciprocal affection and attention.
You don’t have to be in a romantic relationship for those primal needs of consistent attention and affection to be met. After all, our first introduction to those concepts came with infancy. We are hardwired from birth to know that the adults surrounding us are responsible for our well-being. In the world of psychology, it is fairly common knowledge about the post-war Romanian infants who died in orphanages—not for lack of food or shelter—but because the nuns couldn’t hold each infant while making loving eye contact (the distance of an infant’s vision). Tragic experiments were also conducted with monkeys to “prove” the hypothesis.
As adults, we still have these two primal needs for affection and attention. However, as we are no longer at risk of dying from these unmet needs, we experience other forms of un-wellness in the forms of physical and mental illness. In our Western culture, we have become almost exclusively dependent upon romantic partners to meet these primal needs. But I know people who are living proof you can thrive in social communities getting these needs met in platonic ways. Hugs and eye contact need not be in short supply.
We form communities of connections in all sorts of ways: work, friendships, book clubs, brother/sisterhood, therapists of all kinds, faith groups, sports leagues, hobby groups. Not to say these social circles automatically provide authentic connections, but they all have the capacity to provide healthy affection and attention. Sadly, however, we have all experienced the opposite effect from involvement in various systems, groups, or organizations. Hence, the opportunities abound—but, so too, the risks of being hurt. And emotional wounding is a significant mental health issue.
In my experience, my marriage was anything but attentive and affectionate. So I still had to look elsewhere for those primal needs to be met. Sometimes seeking it out specifically in a romantic relationship is what sets us up for failure. And sometimes seeking is the misguided first step. What if being open to it crossing our path is the first step? Not easy. Our primal needs drive us. We crave connection. That stable base from which we go out to explore the world, only to come back to replenish before going out again.
Sometimes we’ll do anything to find it, or at least fill the void. Not so easy to sit with our craving and open ourselves to the possibility of it being satisfied.
Hence why creating a loving world can only enhance our lives. The legends of Saint Valentine vary—as well as how his religious feast day became commercialized into Valentine’s Day. But maybe we can borrow a page from the story within the story. The basic idea is reminding people they are loved and cared for (whether the child of a jailor whose sight is restored or officiating secret marriage ceremonies) and to consider ways we can provide healthy affection and attention to those around us. None of us know the emotional wounding that is walking all around us. A greeting, touch of the hand, and eye contact may be all it takes to add loving kindness to someone’s day.
And the added bonus—at least two people always benefit from touch, eye contact, kinds words, and listening ears.
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Posted on May 17, 2015
“You can’t control everything. Sometimes you just need to relax and have faith that things will work out. Let go a little and just let life happen.”
~Kody Keplinger
This quote has stuck with me since it appeared on the Facebook circuit a few days ago. Let go and let life happen—which involves waiting. I am a terrible “waiter.” At my worst, waiting is fertile ground for anxieties to sprout and proliferate like weeds. At my best, I occupy my mind and body with distractions so the time goes “faster”—or more likely, goes by unnoticed.
Waiting for life to happen feels an awful lot like being stuck. And loss of control. I have come a LONG way in my journey to overcome my control-freak tendency. Where it tends to creep in is during waiting: times when I must relinquish control and trust life to unfold on its own without any assistance from me.
Funny how life is full of paradoxes like that. There are times we must get off our lazy butts, quit complaining, and make life happen. In contrast, there are times we must let life happen in its own time. We can’t hurry periods of gestation. Babies, and other significant moments, occur when they’re good and ready. Premature and delayed arrivals bring their own challenges—some surmountable, others not. But we can’t change or control it.
We must wait: in line; for the bus; for events; for graduation; for promotions; for deals to come through or fall through; for prayers to be answered, hopes to come true; for messages to be sent and received; for people to hurry up; for decisions to be made; for directions, information, or signs from the heavens. Or as Cheryl Richardson words it in her book, Life Makeovers (2000):
“Maybe you’ve been forced to wait because you’re unsure of what’s next, feeling as though your life has fallen victim to a giant hold button.” (p. 93)
There is no end to waiting. But it need not be stagnant. Waiting can be a time of growth (figuratively and literally). It can be a time of inner reflection, of transition, and preparation. Be open to messages from within. Cheryl challenges us to embrace the discomfort of waiting
“knowing that if you use this time wisely, you’ll strengthen your personal power, the kind of power that no outside person or thing can ever give you.” (p. 94)
Grant yourself the freedom to wait knowing it’s a time of growth, reflection, transition, preparation. Sounds like action words to me.
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Posted on Jul 15, 2011
Curiosity will conquer fear even more than bravery will.
~ James Stephens
Lately, I have been writing about The Void—now thought of as Spaciousness. In the same conversation that resulted in reframing The Void as spaciousness, we also talked about those inner voices that seem to haunt us—and are louder and more persistent than anything we supposedly think up for ourselves.
We remember being called stupid, or fat, or any other label for ‘less than.’ And any time we try to tell ourselves otherwise, that label clamors and grows more insistent. This makes for very hard therapeutic work when we try to exchange internalized negative messages with positive ones. And usually some progress can be made. We do grow more confidant in believing the positive self-talk and in refuting the negative internalized messages—that may feel true but are not true.
In a sense, we have to choose not to believe them anymore. We come to the conclusion that they no longer serve a purpose, they are not helping us. If it is not helping, why do we ‘go there’ in our minds? It seems we have to first put aside these labels (or beliefs) in order to move forward—to finally believe we are worth the effort.
But I digress. Back to where curiosity fits in. Some of my inner voices were getting rather rowdy—it was hard to think straight over the din—and I was getting frustrated trying to shush them up and bring some gentler, kinder voices into the mix. You know, the ones considered party-poopers by those rambunctious trouble makers. And rather than fight them, it was suggested to me to get curious about them. Why are they ‘in there’ the first place? What prompted them to party a little harder just then? That sort of thing.
In general terms, I know where these rabble-rousing negative messages come from. Most of us could tell similar stories of parents, or siblings, or classmates who said or did things that left indelible marks. We internalize this stuff to be true. As we mature, we usually encounter opportunities that test the ‘trueness’ of the statements we have internalized. While we all have our ‘less-than-optimal’ moments, we also all have our moments of brilliance, of strength, of beauty, of contribution, of appreciation.
What we need to get curious about is what prompts all this negative self-perception. A misspoken word, a certain look, a sequence of events can all act as triggers. And we remember. It brings up all that old messaging. Time for those gentler, kinder voices to get a little louder and remind ourselves that we are not still 10—or whatever age—and not in the same situation. It may feel like we are in it all over again; but it is good to remind ourselves that we are in a new moment in the present. We can choose a different response. We can choose to think differently.
This is where curiosity conquers fear, or anxiety, even better than bravery. When we get curious, we ask questions rather than fight to the final breath. And last I checked, the point of this whole ‘get up’ is to make the most of every breath we take. To be more mindful.
Giving ourselves time to be curious also allows us to ask ourselves, What do I need? Do I need to beat myself up at this particular moment? Or do I need to care for myself on a deeper level? What would that caring look like? If you are reminded of a past moment, what would you have liked to receive at the time of the insult or injury? Can you give that to yourself now?
As you get curious about what ‘gets under your skin,’ may you find rest from the rabble-rousers of your mind.
Stay tuned for next month when I relate this bit about curiosity and fear as it relates to my phobia of bears…
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Posted on Jun 14, 2011
Last month I mentioned The Void. I’m fairly confident that most of us are familiar with our own Voids. Mine seems to take on the shape, colour, and characteristics of an astronomical Black Hole. For others, it might appear as a barren wasteland or a stagnant lagoon. At any rate, it is that unseen force that seems to suck the life right out of us, drain us dry, paint life with a hopeless brush, stagnate rather than stimulate. Life may seem empty and pointless. We tend to want to fill that void or aerate that wilderness in order not to feel the vastness, the emptiness, the aridness, the stagnation.
Since then, it has come to my attention that The Void may not be a vacuous Black Hole after all. I have already mentioned that we can accept The Void and choose not to fill it. My journey now takes that conclusion one step (or spiral) further—or in another direction depending on how your journey make look. Journeys tend not to be linear progressions.
The word we are looking for is Spaciousness. Once I have accepted and allow for the existence of The Void, it provides an opportunity to look at it from another angle. From this new vantage point, the void appears expansive, limitless, open to infinite possibilities. Does this make you think of any other time in history when seemingly nothing begat something? For the person who shared this idea of spaciousness with me, it reminded him of God creating something out of nothing. I like that association. Even for those who hold to the Big Bang Theory—something still came out of nothing. Viewing the ‘negative space’ of my existence as opportunity-for-explosion is rather exciting—and hopeful—don’t you think?
There may yet come something out of my nothing. It may be influenced by a Creative Presence or self-combustion. Either way, change is inevitable. My Void or Spaciousness will not look or feel the same. Reminds me of art class and learning the value of ‘negative space’—and how good use of negative space enhances the focal point rather than detracts from it. That’s what I want for my ‘negative space’—for it to enhance what is already taking shape or forming in the innermost of my being. Who knows what will burst forth next?
What might be brewing or fomenting in the hidden regions of your being? Any explosions worth mentioning? Might be a good idea not to mess with it. No use filling that emptiness with stuff that might inhibit a process already underway. Rather, take a step back and appreciate the view. That Black Hole might turn out to be a galaxy of stars sparkling in a deep night sky.
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Posted on May 16, 2011
I had other ideas in mind for May’s blog, prompted by last month’s Royal Wedding. However, recent events have me thinking along different lines.
Such as: life is paradox. We are constantly faced with pain and pleasure, joy and sorrow, grief and encouragement—simultaneously. By that I mean, life does not usually consist of first experiencing a down followed by the relief of an up. Unless, of course, a person struggles with bi-polar disorder which involves swinging between extreme highs and lows.
I am thinking of how on a beautiful day a person can receive devastating news of loss—of home, loved one, income. Or on the crummiest of weather days, a person can receive exceptional news of promotion, expectation, or acquisition which suddenly deems the cloudy skies irrelevant.
It seems, more often than not, life hands us variety rather than all-or-nothing. Exhaustion follows a lovely weekend in the Rocky Mountains. However, exhaustion is mere inconvenience compared to the devastation of flood or forest fire. My home is intact. I have not lost everything even if my health is less than optimal.
One of my worst fears is losing everything in a fire. There is no replacing the mementos of a life time of experiences. The photos, trinkets, and symbols of achievements, vacations, and relationships are gone. Permanently. However, if I live to tell about the fire, there is opportunity to make more memories and collect new treasures while grieving the loss of the former life mementos.
If a flood washes away my life as I know it, there is opportunity to make an even better one. I can hopefully find refuge in family and friends. I will not be alone in my loss or in the rebuilding of a life—as tragic and disabling as that may be initially.
Life happens in all its pathos and celebration. I want to be spared the heaviness of ‘real life;’ but then, that would require missing out on compassion, grace, mercy, loving kindness—all offered to me in my time of grief and rebuilding. I could not in return connect with others in their own distress—if we could somehow find the magic wand that not only relieves suffering but prevents it. Another paradox. For without pathos, we as human beings could not live out our true potential to love and care for one another. Our true purpose for living.
We miss so much of life by focusing exclusively on the pursuit of happiness. For it is, after all, only a pursuit—and only a part of life. This past weekend I heard a beautiful definition of the abundant life—to be fully awake and fully alive—whether that be in a time of affliction or affluence. I know for myself, I tend to ‘zone out’ to adversity—I want to be anything but awake and alive. But without the pruning and the manure, trees cannot produce and thrive.
In this paradox of life, we cannot have one without the other despite our efforts to drown our sorrows or eat our troubles away. In yet another paradox, for me to be fully awake and fully alive starts with acknowledging ‘The Void’ and granting myself permission not to fill it with food, or television, or work, or mood altering substances. The Void just is part of life. Oddly enough, it is very liberating to live with The Void without the constant effort to fill it.
My next step will be to take a look at what The Void is telling me about me—and what is interfering with being fully awake and fully alive—regardless of what life throws at me.
To end, my thoughts are with those facing devastating loss and are facing the gargantuan task of rebuilding shattered lives. My fatigue today is nothing compared to that. The weather, while fickle, is life giving. So today, I hold in my heart, gratitude for what is in my life and grief for those amidst adversity. And thankfully, my heart is capable of holding both simultaneously.
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