Can Compromise Be the Secret to a Happy Content Union?

 

Compromise plays a significant role in our successful relationships.

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How are your relationships faring? Are you muddling along or thriving? Often we carry on and settle.

My first serious boyfriend

My high school boyfriend was a cutie and sweet —  six foot 4, nice build, with curly brown hair. We dated our senior year and first two years of college.

He and I were “pinned” — what one did when in a relationship and part of a fraternity in those days.

The next step would have been to get engaged, and as soon as Bill began talking about it, I knew I wasn’t ready. Too darn young. Plus, he had been my “first.”

Playing the field

I wanted to experience life, new guys, nightclubs, everything life had to offer a curious twenty-something woman. My only recourse was to break it off.

I had a ball the next five or six years or so. I dated, went to clubs, danced the nights away — while having a fabulous, memorable time.

Let’s get married

Marriage came next, of course. In those days, if we weren’t married by our mid 20’s, it indicated something was off. Many of us rushed into it — pressured by parents or friends. We often felt it was the thing to do.

Many of those marriages ended in divorce — mine included.

Bill and I checked in a couple of times after our failed first marriages. Few of those early marriages survived ten years.

We occasionally saw one another — either one or the other of us wasn’t interested in picking up the relationship again. We were happy to remain friends.

Reuniting

Four full decades elapsed before we got together again. Did we think — perhaps there could be something to rekindle?

Rekindle we did. 

One minor issue — we lived in different states. I was in California, he in Arizona.

I loved Northern California. My sons were born and raised there. I lived there for over 40 years and had my boys, sister, and many friends there. 

Bill lived in Arizona for 40 years and also had significant ties to his home.

We decided to make Arizona our primary residence since Bill had a large home, pool, and yard. I had already downsized to a small apartment that we decided to keep for my frequent visits to CA.

Coming full circle

We have now been together for over eight years, married four. We never expected this to happen—what a pleasant surprise for both of us.

His sisters were my friends way back when and Bill always liked my family. Such a joy to have those relationships back in our lives again. 

There are challenges, for sure. We were youngsters when we dated. Now we are full-grown adults with well-worn habits, quirks, and preferences.

We have had careers, borne and raised children, and are now comfortably retired.

Learning to compromise

Meshing our well-established lives can be a test of internal fortitude at times. Not that either one of us is stubborn — it’s just that my way is better! 

And, of course, Bill believes his way is the only way.

Yet, we work it out with compromise as the answer. 

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What I have noticed in long-term marriages of friends is that they grew together. Ok, not all of them — some were together many years then split and called it irreconcilable differences.

However, the marriages that lasted decades were when the partners grew in the same direction with their ideals and visions. Both belonged to the same political party, religion, enjoyed many similar activities, such as watching football together or traveling.

Not with Bill and I. He is conservative, I liberal. I love to travel — he’s had enough of it. He loves TV; I adore reading. I love being physically active — hiking and playing pickleball. I appreciate the arts — visiting museums and galleries, botanical gardens, and such. He’s a typical couch potato with no remorse or guilt.

Still, we’re able to make it work. Compromise is the answer, once again.

Is it frustrating? Heck yeah.

Bill prefers I hang out with him more, yet understands that I must be busy and lively to be happy. I also need to have my quiet time. 

I set aside lunchtime for us to eat together and the dinner hour; of course, we are together. I spend the following two hours after our meal watching shows we both enjoy.

I also have learned to enjoy watching golf on TV— something I never thought I would do. It feels good to share this with him. I now know who the top players are and root for them right along with Bill.

Yes, it is possible to have a peaceful union with disparate views. We’re learning that being “right” is unimportant. Being content is the ultimate goal.

Compromise is the name of the game for a happy marriage and a peaceful life.

Are You Able to Use Your Powerful Mind to Achieve What You Want?

 

Be careful how you use that boundless mind.

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Have you ever watched yourself purposely use your mind to achieve the desired result?

For example, you’re interviewing for a position you know you are qualified for, yet the competition is fierce. You present yourself as the best possible hiree this company could have.

You ace the interview, and the job is yours. Success achieved.

Conversely, the opposite is also true.

This mighty mind and our psyche are capable of eradicating any possibility of getting that job.

It’s entirely up to us how we use the limitless power of our minds.

"If you correct your mind, the rest of your life will fall into place." --Lao Tzu, ancient Chinese philosopher.

How I allowed my mind to clobber me 

I am adept at using my mind to convince myself that I’m not as skilled as several of my pickleball opponents. This mind, or rather, my use of my mind, can and did defeat me.

Yesterday I played in my pickleball league. This is an all-women league, and for the most part, all participants are caring, considerate people. And most of them, very competitive.

We’re all ranked at approximately the same skill level, although some are slightly better than others.

I was partnered with my friend Julie, a natural athlete and a better player than me. Usually, that is what one wants in a partner.

Our opponents were two other pals — again, better than me — on a par with Julie.

I allowed myself to be intimidated by our opponents, and I didn’t play well. I also felt terrible that Julie got “stuck” with me, which added to my angst.

I was frustrated internally. And, apparently — outwardly, as well, as my friends kept reassuring me I was playing just fine. I wasn’t.

Re-learning what I already know

Today a few of us played pickleball for fun, no league pressures. Julie gave me a pep talk reminding me that I’m a decent player.

I explained to her how I allowed my mind to mess with my confidence, and I knew from the start the results of that game would not be pleasant.

Julie reminded me that I am better than that. Better than allowing my insecurity to take over my mind.

She is right.

I have raised two boys, and that was exactly what I taught them when they were playing sports, applying for a job, or any challenge they may have faced— that the mind rules the roost. What they believed they would become. 

“We become what we think about.” This quote by American motivational speaker Earl Nightingale was one I learned over 35 years ago during my younger years while on a journey to discover what I wanted from life. 

Thank you, Julie, for the reminder of such a fundamental law of life.

You may be thinking — who doesn’t know that? And I agree that if we’ve lived long enough, most of us know we are the result of our thoughts. 

However, let me be the warning that when in a situation where your confidence may not be at the highest level — you, too, may forget how gifted, skilled and unique you are!

I allowed myself to forget this basic rule. Lesson learned. Rather lesson re-learned.

I'm a New Writer on Medium-Learning with Every Post

 

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Writing for Medium is creative and a welcome education.

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Writing, authoring, composing, inventing, crafting — all terms associated with the act of depositing words on paper. 

I’ve always admired and secretly envied writers. I love to read — all types of novels, biographies, historical fiction — I love it all.

A day does not pass that I don’t pick up a book.

Never in this lifetime did I expect to find myself writing for others to read — like a bonafide author.

Dare I call myself an author? Yes, absolutely. If I publish an article and even one person reads it — I am an author. I’m proud to call myself this.

Two and a half years ago, I started a blog encouraged by friends who believed I had led an intriguing life that others might find interesting.

My friends do enjoy reading it — but my audience other than them — is meager. Still, I write.

"I write to discover what I know. "— Flannery O’Connor 

My writing partner, Meg, suggested I submit a post to Medium. Ok, she practically dared me. 

I knew I had to take on this challenge. One of my life mantras is never to stop learning. Once we quit learning and growing, we may as well say adios to life.

My first Medium article was published in January of this year — thrilling.

Big deal — you might think, and that’s ok. It was a big step for me and part of my ongoing education. 

I’m learning all the nuances of Medium. The rules, tips, and advice the experienced Medium writers are willing to share are invaluable. 

I thank you one and all for your generous revelations.

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I do feel like a fraud at times. After all, I don’t have an education in creative writing, nor was I ever an A student in that area of study (primarily due to “extracurricular activities.”)

I will not allow the lack of education to deter me. Plus, I have the author Elizabeth Gilbert as a cheerleader for the “uneducated” writers.

In her book Big Magic, Ms.Gilbert writes:

"If you are older, trust that the world has been educating you all along. You already know so much more than you think you know. You are not finished; you are merely ready. After a certain age, no matter how you’ve been spending your time, you have very likely earned a doctorate in living."

For sure, I fall into the older category, being in the glorious Third Third of my life.

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I have always been an acute and keen observer of life. I’m a people watcher. There is never a shortage of material to write about if you keep your eyes open and become a spectator.

"We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect. "— Anais Nin

Since I’ve begun writing for Medium, I’ve become even more attentive. My eyes are always searching; ears are alert, awaiting a new idea or tidbit of commentary that could transform into a story.

My ideas are endless, though, at times, I question whether readers care about the subject I’ve chosen. I agree with the Medium seasoned authors — always write for your reader. I must have faith the articles I write will be of interest to them.

None of my posts have gone viral, and I don’t even have 100 followers, yet I persist and continue writing and publishing daily. 

I’m also blessed to have a writing partner who is a former creative writing professor, and her suggestions are invaluable. She is teaching me through her gentle recommendations and her heartfelt compositions.

I will also continue to read the articles the experienced writers publish, always grateful for their advice. 

If you’re a Medium reader and not a writer but have flirted with the idea — go for it. You have nothing to lose. Plus, learning a new skill, adventuring out to try a new undertaking keeps us curious, interested, and deeply invested in growth.

I’m optimistic my readership will grow. Whether it does or not, I enjoy writing and feel fortunate to have found this new creative outlet.

Will You Do the Important Things Now and Quit Procrastinating?

 

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We must override the fear that is at the root of our procrastination.

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I want to submit articles to other publications, yet, I procrastinate. I hesitate. I detect an underlying vein of fear running through me. Why the heck is this so?

I took the big plunge in January to publish on Medium, thanks to the encouragement of a friend. After taking that dive, shouldn’t the next platform and the following one be a dog paddle in comparison? Again, why the hesitation?

After a few moments of contemplation, I get it — the dreaded imposter syndrome has reappeared.

I’m new to writing, having started a blog less than three years ago. Yes, three years is a reasonable amount of time to have improved. However, I write and publish one article a week on that platform.

Since January of this year, I’ve submitted my articles to Medium — several a week — giving me more practice to evolve as a writer. I also am privileged to have a writing partner who is a retired creative writing professor at a prestigious university. How lucky can one be? 

I’m thrilled to have Meg as a partner and have already learned oodles of tips, tactics, and rules of writing to help me on this incredible journey. 

Still, I procrastinate, and the imposter syndrome persists.

Perhaps it is because my fellow writers are putting out excellent stories and essays, and mine pale in comparison?

The other side of the equation is I’m so enjoying the writing process —  I don’t want to take the time, necessary though it is, to figure out how to submit to various publications.

Do you find yourself delaying a project or activity repeatedly, unaware of why? Or perhaps you are conscious of the why, still, you put it off?

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I enjoy exercising except for the weight-lifting part — yet I rarely procrastinate there. I certainly don’t enjoy tidying the house — yet I wouldn’t dream of living in a messy home.

So why the reluctance to take the time to apply to other publications? Yup, fear and the imposter syndrome must be the culprits holding me hostage.

 

"The only difference between success and failure is the ability to take action. "— Alexander Graham Bell.

Enough whining — I will apply to a few of the excellent publications under the Medium umbrella.

I know I am not alone in this dilemma. Many of you encounter uncertainty and indecision, too. Let’s stop this and be accountable, if not to someone — to ourselves.

I am fully aware that procrastination when repeated, can become a way of life. I know I will not allow that to happen. I take pride in doing what I say I will do when someone else is relying on me.

I’m relying on myself, and I am every bit as important as another.

You Were Born Creative-Now Own It to Design Your Life

 

We can all live a creative life even if we believe we’re not creative.

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I figured out how to live in two different states. Ninety or so percent of the time, I live in Arizona with my husband and sweet Golden Retriever, Merlin.

The balance of my time is spent in California.  I resided here for over 40 years, and it's where my two sons were born and raised. I have a deep love and connection to this part of the country. There is no way I would permanently forsake it.

Fortunately, the two states are less than a two-hour plane ride away from one another. Flying back and forth is an easy transition.

When my sweetie and I reconnected after many years and decided we wanted to marry, the decision of where to live arose, of course.

Since I had previously downsized from my house and moved to a small apartment and hubby had a large home in Arizona, the decision was an easy one.

This is creative living manifested. Both of us loved our states of residence. Bill’s house is large, spacious, and comfy — plus a pool for our large dog to swim and a yard to roam and explore.

I had free reign — more or less — to bring in my decorating style so his home would feel like our home. More creativity in action.

I am keeping my lovely apartment that is filled with art I have created and decorated with love.

Bill doesn’t care to travel to California with me often as he feels a bit confined as it’s small. That works for me. I am free to visit my family and friends while he is comfortable at home in Arizona.

This is creative living for us.

As Henri Matisse said: “Creativity takes courage.”

For 20 years or so, my dear friend Jennifer was a chef with a thriving catering business.

Jen’s husband is a photographer with a large studio where he taught classes and engaged in all types of processing and workshops. He also led field trips to various countries for emerging and established photographers. Their life was full and brimming with artistic pursuits.

Now they are reassessing life and tossing ideas to one another as to their next step.

Jennifer retired from catering and the responsibility of running the show. Now, rather than being the boss, she supports friends in their businesses when help is needed. She can continue to keep her hands in the food industry she so loves. Generous and smart creativity.

The considerations for the photography studio are: downsizing — moving to a smaller place and cutting back on classes, etc., or perhaps going online exclusively.

Jen and Sam are considering renting out their home to be able to travel. The Airbnb income would give them funds to support their trips.

Their prospects are exciting and creative.

As Pablo Picasso so eloquently said:

"Learn the rules like a pro, so you can break them like an artist."

I began writing for Medium in January of this year. It’s my new artistic outlet.

Prior to Medium, I wrote and still do on my blog — publishing every Thursday since December 2018 — never missed a week.

Before writing, I designed collages, and before that — painting landscapes and still lifes were my interest.

What do you love to do? Where is your imagination taking you?

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You’re not creative, you say? Of course, you are. If you are breathing — you’re creative.

I love what Elizabeth Gilbert says in her book Big Magic:

"Are you considering becoming a creative person? Too late, you already are one. To even call somebody “a creative person” is almost laughably redundant; creativity is the hallmark of our species. We have the senses for it; we have the curiosity for it; we have the opposable thumbs for it; we have the rhythm for it; we have the language and the excitement and the innate connection to divinity for it."

Try writing, pottery, take a class in flower arranging, a sculpture workshop — the choices are endless. You were born curious — rediscover what excites and motivates you.

Creativity is inherent within you. Find it, release it and go forth to design a life that is as individual as you are.

Our Incessant Chattering Mind

 

The chattering mind is part of being alive and kicking.

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The constant chatter in my head drives me crazy at times.

What is this all about? Does everyone have it? Yes, I believe everyone does possess this ongoing discourse, sometimes known as a nuisance.

At other times this voice is guidance. It can warn us of impending danger or remind us of an important task we need to accomplish. 

I love it when ideas drop in because of the chatter. That is exactly how this article came to be.

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I’m out for my morning exercise, walking along the creek observing several giant birds gathered on a muddy island. It’s low tide, so this tiny island has appeared and is a welcome resting place for these creatures.

My mind is wrestling with questions and concerns about these odd-looking birds. What are they? Turkey vultures or wild turkeys? Why are they here? Questions abound unanswered.

I’m a curious person, and I want clarification. My mind is turning over possible answers. I have forsaken my plan for a quiet, serene walk, giving my mind a respite from the jabbering.

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Yesterday I spent the day with my son, and our conversation turned to this subject of mind talk — giving birth to this article.

He, too, suffers from it. Suffer is a word I use for the times the chatter is an annoyance and not a help. However, as I said, we need this voice. 

It is the voice of reason, of intellect, of creativity. Without this voice, we would perish.

The trick is how to calm it when it is not serving us? How to quiet the mind?

For sure, meditation is a welcome remedy. The problem is thoughts appear during meditation, as well as during the usual “operating hours.” Yogis advise us to let those thoughts wander on by and not give them any mind when meditating.

Continued practice of letting the thoughts go will make it easier to quiet the mind in the future, albeit easier said than done.

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It was Budda who coined the term Monkey Mind thousands of years ago, stating:

"Just as a monkey swinging through the trees grabs one branch and lets it go only to seize another, so too, that which is called thought, mind, or consciousness arises and disappears continually both day and night."

 

Monkey Mind is described as a mind that is unsettled, capricious, restless, whimsical, and fanciful.

I like the idea of a whimsical and fanciful mind — it’s appealing to me. Unsettled, capricious, restless? Not so much.

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I have a relative, a young woman concerned with her future. She wonders if she is achieving all she could at this age. Is there something else she is meant to do? Shouldn’t she be a homeowner by now, she asks? Or married? At the very least, have a boyfriend?

She is plagued by the neverending questions pulling at her mind, the incessant monkey mind.

It is in these moments that the mind needs to take a break. We can give it a rest by taking a breath, a purposeful breath.

Maybe take that breath a step further by concentrating on your breathing or chanting a favorite word or phrase to change the course of your thinking. In other words — meditate.

Being fully aware that our thoughts are going into places we don’t want to venture is the clue to take a mindful breath, at the very least, if meditation is not possible.

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Taming the monkey mind is critical to living a peaceful life. It isn’t once and done, though. The management of our chatter is an ongoing process.

Allow the positive thoughts to thrive while giving notice to the unproductive ones that their time is up.

We have beautiful, brilliant, and creative minds capable of designing a life we cherish. 

"In the attitude of silence, the soul finds the path in a clearer light, and what is elusive and deceptive resolves itself into crystal clearness. "— Mahatma Gandhi.

Breaking Up Is Hard to Do

 

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How do we know it’s time to end a relationship?

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Breaking up is hard to do. Do not indulge in guilt — when the time has come — you must do it.

My dear friend is unhappy in her marriage.

I believe it’s time for me to end a friendship that has fizzled out. Ending a relationship — is painful, even when it’s the right thing to do. Right perhaps, for at least one of us.

Friendship:

My friend Dan and I met at a personal development seminar several years ago. The facilitator matched us up as partners for the 12-week course, and a friendship was born.

Self-development and our life goals were predominately the basis for our friendship in the early years. Later I welcomed Dan into my creative life by inviting him to museums, galleries, various art shows, and exhibits I attended.

Dan is a gay man and always had entertaining stories to tell me about his relationships. We enjoyed “educating” one another, laughing our way through many afternoons and evenings.

Until we no longer did.

I began to grow weary of picking up the tab. Dan was often out of work due to a myriad of absurd excuses.

I gently attempted to make him aware that his failure to stay employed was a detriment to his self-esteem along with other drawbacks — namely, my growing annoyance at his sponging.

There is a belief in the Buddist tradition called “idiot compassion”:

You avoid rocking the boat to spare people’s feelings, even though the boat needs rocking and your compassion ends up being more harmful than your honesty. Its opposite is “wise compassion” which means caring about the person but also giving him or her a loving truth bomb when needed. — Lori Gottlieb, author of Maybe You Should Talk to Someone.

Dan’s solution to the unemployment issue was to move clear across the country to live in his mother’s house since it was empty following her move to a retirement facility. Zero rent, more freeloading.

Our friendship consisted of texting or phone calls every few months or so, dwindling with every passing year for the next few years.

Knowing I visit San Francisco often, Dan called me to get together during an upcoming trip he’s planning to the city.

As it happens, I will be in San Francisco then. I mentioned to my son that Dan would be coming, yet I was conflicted about whether I wanted to take the time to see him. Nick pointed out; he is no longer a friend if you aren’t sure you want to see him.

That was a clarifying moment.

And, synchronicity’s timing was perfect. Dan’s arrival is now scheduled for several days after I depart. I’m not sure how this friendship will unfold. It’s growing toxic and frustrating for me.

Perhaps the time has come for me to take my advice!

People come into our lives for a reason, a season, or a lifetime.

I’m not sure who the author of this phrase is, but Dan was in my life for a season, and for the most part, I am grateful for him and the fun, lighthearted times we had.

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You cannot change the people around you. But you can change the people your choose to be around. — Anonymous.

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Photo by Gemma Evans on Unsplash

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It happened to me.

I met Irene, a talented artist, through a mutual friend. We enjoyed an evenly balanced camaraderie for a couple of years, although I recognized a smidge of self-centeredness occurring from time to time.

Her self-preoccupation increased so that Irene seldom showed any interest in my life. It isn’t easy to sustain a friendship when there is rarely a dialogue. It was always an Irene monologue.

Our friendship collapsed following her rant that no one (except for me) remembered her birthday. She railed her friends don’t care about her, no one appreciates her, on and on. As delicately as possible, I suggested that to have friends who care about you, you must be a friend to them.

Irene erupted, screaming how heartless I am to speak to her that way. She ordered me to leave her home immediately. I gladly complied, leaving behind the meal I brought to celebrate her birthday.

I was dumped. I had no desire to salvage the relationship. I’m guilt-free.

Irene was in my life, and I was in hers for a reason. The purpose of discussing various art forms was satisfied and concluded.

Perhaps with you, as well — some friendships are nurtured for many decades, others come and go throughout our lifetime. These relationships are lovely when we have a commonality.

Circumstances, people, interests are constantly in flux. So with relationships. When a friendship fades away naturally, it’s an easy transition and part of the human experience.

Spouse Relationship:

My friend Danielle moved cross-country after she remarried. Her second union was to a wonderful man she met through work. She admired, respected, and loved him, and within a year, they married.

Both Danielle and her new husband, Tom, were high achievers in their field and combined forces to build a successful company. The business and the couple prospered for several years until a former partner sued them. Sadly, they lost everything. Life for Danielle and Tom took a drastic turn.

Changes:

Tom lost his oomph while Danielle pressed ahead with a new venture, attaining success once again.

Tom gained enormous weight, began drinking daily, took a menial job in retail, and drove an Uber in his off-hours. He was no longer the man she fell in love with and married.

After some years, Danielle began to grow tired of being the primary breadwinner. Tom wasn’t performing at his capable, higher-level, or pulling his financial weight. She was falling out of love and losing respect and admiration for the man she once adored.

Without respect, it’s difficult, if not impossible, to love that person.

To add to her grief, she was experiencing deep feelings of guilt, as though she was abandoning him.

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We marry for better or worse. Or do we? Does our spouse have a duty to hold up his end of the marriage contract? When do we know it’s okay to concede defeat and move on?

Do we stay because we took vows? Or do we owe it to ourselves to live the best life we can and not spend any more days attempting to help our partner return to the person he once was? Especially if he chooses not to help himself.

Leaving a marriage is heartbreaking for both parties — even when children are not a part of it. We can feel humiliated and defeated, akin to the captain deserting his sinking ship.

The decision to leave or stay is complex and different for each of us, weighing the possible consequences judiciously. After all — we put our body and soul into this union — leaving is hard.

Facing a relationship we choose to end is also part of being human, albeit — an unpleasant passage. I know you have experienced this, as well.

God willing, breaking up sans guilt is the best choice for both of us.

Quick Jolts of Joy

Sometimes joy is unexpected, and other times we can ignite it.

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A tide of joy flows in —  out of nowhere and into my heart. Where the heck did this come from?

I will be moseying along through my day, and I’ll get this jolt of joy.

Has that ever happened to you? It’s an unexpected rush of cheer. I’m not sure from where it came or why it landed on me. However, I am grateful it did.

Is the Universe reminding me how blessed I am? It’s not as though I don’t know how fortunate I am. I do. However, when this unforeseen wave of pleasure settles over me, I’m delighted. It’s an unexpected gift.

"Joy is a net of love. "— Mother Teresa.

It doesn’t matter if my husband and I disagreed the moment prior. Without me actively taking part, all is forgiven and settled after the arrival of this gift.

I get a clear and distinct view that all is well in my world.

It’s not as though I don't have troubles or heartache present. Of course, I do, just like all of you. 

I am dealing with sciatica pain, concerned about a good friend who has Alzheimer’s, and the never-ending sorrow over the loss of a beloved son.

However, these heartaches disintegrate immediately upon the appearance of this jolt of joy.

Often I will spark a hit of joy by acknowledging all I’ve been blessed with and taking a moment out of my day to say “thank you” to God. Usually, I do this when I’m feeling cranky or irritable — and annoyed with myself for feeling this way.

Gratitude never fails to instill joy into my heart. 

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I am reminded of one of my favorite quotes:

"I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul." — William Henley, English violinist, and composer.

I’ve also discovered that a few simple, conscious deep breaths can also trigger a wave of joy. How reassuring it is that we have this power.

Another way joy drops into my heart is by purposely reminding myself of an accomplishment I may have taken for granted.

Yesterday as I was driving home from grocery shopping, I was suddenly reminded (why I don’t know) — that I am a sober person. No, I didn’t forget that I’d quit drinking, yet I rarely think about it.

I enjoyed my wine and cocktails for several decades — quitting two and a half years ago. It’s a re-lived thrill when I acknowledge what an achievement this is. Pride and joy fill my heart.

Stoking the embers of joy is always available to us. Joy at any moment — what a treasure.

Yes, we are the masters and captains of our lives — whether the jolt of joy arrives from the ethers or we prompted it. 

Grab hold of that joy and say thank you to whomever it is you believe in.

I Love How the Garden is a Metaphor for Life

What is more perfect than comparing our life to a garden?

Photo by Jonathan Kemper on Unsplash

A garden flourishes and dies, so as in life.

Bird by Bird- Some Instructions on Writing and Life, by Anne Lamott, is an insightful, humorous, and often touching work, guiding writers and wannabes to put pen to paper courageously.

There is a section where Annie is considering one of her characters to be a lover of gardening. She says this about gardens:

"…the garden did not start out as metaphor. It started out as paradise. Then, as now, the garden is about life and beauty and the impermanence of all living things. The garden is about feeding your children, providing food for the tribe. It’s part of an urgent territorial drive that we can probably trace back to animals storing food. ….." 

"And what a wonderful relief every so often to know who the enemy is — because in the garden, the enemy is everything: the aphids, the weather, time. And so you pour yourself into it, care so much, and see up close so much birth and growth and beauty and danger and triumph — and then everything dies anyway, right? But you just keep doing it."

I love that. It’s heartbreaking yet encouraging, a description of life manifest.

We first start as newborn buds ready to flower. Unable to do this independently, we are fed and watered by our caregivers, nourished in many ways. 

We stumble into our first steps. Learn to hold a spoon and navigate it to our mouths.

We manage to survive elementary school, then high school, and for some, college. All the while, we were having the time of our lives, even with all of the struggles. We have learned to be stronger than the weeds, live through droughts and storms.

Unlike a dependent zucchini or a daisy, the good news is that we are able, once grown, to provide for ourselves.

Hopefully, we survive, thrive, and have families of our own to tend to, support, and remove the weeds to allow the sunshine in.

I, like many of you, am a thriver and a survivor. I have managed to pick up the pieces after divorce, supporting my children on my own. I’ve endured the death of my 36-year-old son and managed to be grateful for the years I had with him. 

Just as a garden’s flowers and vegetables are harvested at the peak of ripeness, so are humans delivering their goods to the world. When the crops are spent, they return to the earth. When our time has come, we, too, will pass on.

Yes, life is way more complicated than a garden — still, the metaphor persists.  

Let Go of the Need to Control Life

 

Get on that raft and float down the river of life.

Photo by Amruth Pillai on Unsplash

I was running, doing, racing, hurrying. Wait — why? What’s the big rush?

I’m a true fan of The Untethered Soul by Michael A. Singer. I’m more than a fan as this book has become a bible of sorts for me. 

Untethered has led me out of many a dark place. It has also reminded me that our sole purpose for being on this planet is to experience joy.

How many of us are doing that regularly— experiencing joy?

Recently I’ve been suffering abdominal issues, and I know the source is stress.

Why the heck do I have stress? I’m retired, live a life many would envy. I have a husband who loves me, a son I adore, dear friends who fill my life with fun and laughter. And a precious Golden Retriever named Merlin slobbers me with unconditional love.

Still, stress is present in my life.

I must take full responsibility for this tension.

In a conversation during a break between pickleball matches, several friends and I were discussing my tummy trouble. Maryann suggested thoroughly chewing my food, as we do not benefit from the enzymes in our meals if we eat too quickly. Enzymes could help me.

Slow down my eating? Of course. How could I have forgotten this simple technique?

Sure, I’ve told myself this a dozen times — slow down, taste the food, enjoy and savor every bite. I try. Sometimes I manage to restrain myself and even linger a bit over each meal. 

I often want to finish to get on to the next project, even if that means loading the dishwasher and tidying up the kitchen.

Rushing through a meal is not an isolated incident. I tend to do this with many issues throughout my day.

The natural flow of life doesn’t want us to race through our days. Why do we persist in this marathon?

I know for sure, I’m not alone in this foolishness. My buddies on the court nodded in agreement, adding their frustration with this big rush to get on with the next item on our full agendas.

I’m determined to stop this insanity.

                                                                        * * *

Re-enter Michael A. Singer and his second best-seller, The Surrender Experiment. I have only read The Premise thus far. The first part of Section One — four measly pages, and already I am Know (with a capital K) this book could be life-changing if I follow it.

The Premise is — Go with the flow of life instead of fighting it. 

Mr. Singer points out the universe has been around for 13.8 billion years and doing quite well independently without our assistance.

He asks the question:

"…what would happen if we respected the flow of life and used our free will to participate in what’s unfolding, instead of fighting it? What would be the quality of life that unfolds? Would it just be random events with no order or meaning, or would the same perfection of order and meaning that manifests in the rest of the universe in the everyday life around us?"

                                                                           * * *

Again going with life’s flow is not a new concept. 

In the ‘70’s spiritual author, self-help, and motivational speaker Wayne Dyer wrote and often spoke about rowing our boats gently down the stream. He repeatedly lectured not to paddle upstream — always downstream, going with the flow. 

I “got” it then, when I was much younger, and attempted to go with the flow, never fully succeeding but always striving for ease.

                                                                           * * *

No, we won’t let life befall us willy nilly. 

As Mr. Singer writes:

"Let’s be clear right from the start, however, that this type of surrender does not mean living life without the assertion of will. My story … is simply the story of what happened when the assertion of will was guided by what life was doing instead of what I wanted it to be doing. My personal experience is that aligning one's will with the natural forces unfolding around us leads to some surprisingly powerful results."

                                                                           * * *

I plan to continue writing daily, as I love to do. It fills me with happiness and expectation. What I — and all writers cannot control — is the result of our writing. 

Let’s let go of our complaining that we don't have many readers, or other writers getting more views. Instead, let’s turn out our best work and surrender to the flow.

Now, in the Third Third of my life, I want to slow down, relish every moment and allow life to unfold as naturally as possible. Perhaps it’s time to give this idea serious implementation — with the guidance of Mr. Singer and The Surrender Experience.

My ultimate goal is to live a life of ease in every sense of the word.

Is Pain a Part of Being Alive?

 If pain is inevitable, what do we do about it?

Photo by Abigail Keenan on Unsplash

I felt my heart shatter into a thousand tiny pieces as though it was a piece of fragile porcelain. How could he discard me so easily?

What do you do when someone hurts you? Pain is unavoidable if you are alive.

One of life’s most difficult and painful situations is also one of the most fulfilling and emotionally satisfying: love relationships.

I married at a young age, 24. At the time, way back in the dark ages of the ’70s, it was not considered young. I loved my husband but was not “in love” with him. Due to various reasons, such as pressure from my parents and my friends, I married him.

Two short years later, a handsome man with striking bluish-green eyes and black hair, wearing an impeccably tailored suit, walked into my office for his first day at work. One look at him and his “I dare you” smile, and I was toast.

Fast forward another two years, he and I scandalously left our spouses and hightailed it to the sunny shores of California.

It was the first time I felt absolutely “in love,” and it was terrifying. I believe I existed for several years with non-stop butterflies in my stomach. 

Yet, something wasn’t quite right. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something awry. As I was to find out, it was my intuition telling me to be on guard.

He treated me like a queen. He brought me flowers. Showered me in lovely jewelry, beautiful leather coats and took me out to dinner to the chicest, trendiest restaurants in San Francisco. I was in heaven, except for the underlying, profoundly irritating nagging in my gut. I tried my best to ignore it, at times successfully.

Photo by Cosiela Borta on Unsplash

We married, had two beautiful sons when the covert trouble began to brew. It had been simmering for years, as my instincts were trying to communicate to me. The signs something was amiss persisted, yet I couldn’t put my finger on it.

He had late “appointments” with clients, a deal that took longer than expected. You get the picture. Meanwhile, I resorted to burying my head in the sand. The pain was beginning to creep in and was commandeering more than my tummy. It had spread into my heart. Yet, I wasn’t ready to face it.

I was a stay-at-home mother and wife, loving the role, and my husband was a bountiful provider until he wasn’t.

One day I arrived home to find a notice taped to my door saying I had 90 days to vacate as the bank took my home due to non-payment of our mortgage. 

Wait a minute! My home? How could this be? He was making plenty of money. We had the latest cars, a boat, a home that we loved, all the signs that we were doing well. There must be a mistake.

No mistake.

Rather than pay the mortgage and various other bills, the money disappeared up his nose. There wasn’t any money left to catch up on our back payments. We were three months behind in the mortgage, he maxed out the credit cards, and I was neglectfully unaware.

Don’t get me wrong. I take full responsibility for my ignorance. I allowed my husband to control all finances, and he cleverly had the bills sent to his office.

“Blame is irrelevant if only because it changes nothing.” — Aryn Kyle, author of The God of Animals.

I had yet to find out even more devastating news. Yes, you guessed it. The “loving” husband had a girlfriend. Later I found out; there were quite a few preceding her, hence, the ongoing gnawing feeling that something was off.

How did I remain so oblivious, you may ask? Again, the persistent intuition that I relentlessly chose to ignore — a part of me knew. However, whenever I allowed my mind to go there, I was paralyzed with fear and a sickening pain.

This man broke my heart in several places. I suffered the loss of my greatest love, and my marriage was in shreds. I had to endure the pain of informing our children their dad would no longer be living with us, knowing this would break their hearts, as well. 

There was the shame of being replaced by another woman and the fear of financial catastrophe. I also knew that I would have to inform family and friends of this intense ordeal, reliving it repeatedly in the re-telling.

After months of hysterics, rage, counseling, and finally acceptance, we separated.

The only way to overcome pain and heartache is to walk through the fire. I am not simplifying the process. We must feel the pain and all the emotions brought on by a betrayal. 

It is one of life’s most difficult challenges, and it took several years for me to forgive and let go completely.

“Pain is inevitable; suffering is optional.” — Budda.

As it is often said, we become stronger, better, smarter, and more resilient by living through difficult times. I blindly stumbled into the inferno. From the ashes, I grew into the strong, capable woman I am today.

I was able to financially and emotionally support my children on my own. They grew into fine, successful men.

I am not afraid to love again, and indeed I have. I am now married to my high school sweetheart, reconnecting after 50 years. And life is good.