Archive for March, 2009
Days of Grace: 30/365
Posted by: | Comments- Breakfast meeting leftovers (the grapes were great)
- My Gary Fong
- Deep conversations with Steve
- Google Reader
- Aunt Pat
Random Tuesday Thoughts
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Am I the only person in the world who has a clause in her divorce agreement stipulating that I get joint custody of the power tools? I have taken control of two power sanders, which usually live with my ex. He brought them over in December when I decided to refinish this dresser I’ve had since I was a baby. I should say re-refinish, because as I’ve sanded it down, I’ve taken off the four other layers of paint I’ve put on it over the years. First, beige. Then sea green. Then RED (really red). Then white. Now, it’s going this dark blue-green color. I bought new knobs and pulls for it, and for the other dresser in our room. I’ll get to that one when I’m done with this one, and it will become Steve’s. It’s about time he gets real furniture of his own in the room, instead of the plastic drawers he keeps his stuff in now.- I’ve dealt with depression for most of my life. I’ve done things to help myself, ranging from therapy to light therapy to herbs to pharmaceuticals to yoga to exercise to more therapy. Someone I love is incredibly depressed right now and will not seek help. Will not consider counseling. Will not consider putting himself as first priority. I can’t force him, but I want to. I’m very worried about him. I don’t know what to do.
- Our cats have been puke machines lately. And cat puke, especially wet cat food puke, does not come out of carpets. Even with Clorox bleach. Which Steve sprayed on all the spots. And now our carpet looks like it has lesions. Which means he’ll never concede to having anyone but us and the kids step foot in the house. Which means if I ever want to entertain in this house again, I need to figure out how to pay for new carpets, or better yet, hardwood floors so that cat puke can simply be wiped up.
- My boss sent out an email yesterday: I will be in the office at 1230. I haven’t left for work yet–running about 15 minutes late. I wonder how many others are running late today too?
- I have a little bit of a cold, not enough to keep me down, but just enough to annoy me. You know–scratchy throat, a little headache, a little tired. And annoying. Did I mention annoying?
- I am not pregnant. Thank god. Three negative tests didn’t convince me because I’ve never skipped a period before. This “month’s” cycle was 61 days. I hope that this period isn’t like January’s. Still sucks being a girl, I tell you.
- I put it out to the Universe that I want to go to BlogHer in July. So, I logged onto blogher.com last night to find out that the conference sold out on March 18. I’m now on the wait list, so it will truly take divine intervention for me to go. If not this one, though, something else compelling will come up. Still, I’m bummed.
- I’ve been thinking about what I want to do with this blog, or what I want it to do for me. I started writing it for real just three months ago. My traffic has tripled each month. I don’t know how to double or triple it in April. I can’t physically read and comment on any more blogs. I don’t have time to repost my postings inside other communities. I tried that with Schmutzie’s Grace in Small Things community, and I can’t keep up. Which is one reason why I wanted to go to BlogHer–to learn more about this. When I blogged on a private site for about three years, I easily got 150 to 200 views on every post, and that felt good. So maybe, it’s about my constant quest to be popular. I write this blog for other reasons–because I have to express myself, and I suck at journaling. I need an audience. Because I am one of those people whom others turn to for help solving problems, and I wind up telling about my own experiences. Because a writer is what I am, as much as I sometimes want to deny it. Now, if only I could figure out how to replace my current income by blogging–that would be the ticket. Really, what I’ve always wanted to be was a newspaper columnist. Since newspapers are dying, blogging is a good second choice. It’s all a matter of how.
I'm a snob
Posted by: | CommentsThe other day, I read a news story that said strip clubs are getting inundated with women from all walks of professional life looking to strip and supplement their incomes … or actually make an income after being laid off. And that story made me think about what I might do in such dire straights? Could I actually take my clothes off for money?
I’m not a prude–far from it. I’ve been to strip clubs, and honestly, I think that for the most part women who are exotic dancers are incredibly empowered. Really, who’s being taken advantage of? The woman taking the money off the guy, or the guy getting the eyeful for $20 or $200?
I have some friends who work in this industry, and they make damn fine money. One friend dances at the Diamond Cabaret, and she can bring home 2 grand easy (and in cash) working four five-hour shifts a week. She used to be an IT recruiter. She got laid off in the fall.
She’s a beautiful woman, curvy, over 40, mom of three girls, married to a great guy who loves and supports her. She’s not the cliched sexually abused, depressed, self-hating victim of a woman you see portrayed in Hollywood. Actually, she’s quite the opposite. Smart, vivacious, self-confident, loving, fun. She gets off on the attention, for sure. She really gets off on the money. At the same time, her knees and back are killing her. And she has to lie to her kids, who think she’s hostessing at a bar. Her oldest is nearing puberty: Can she be fooled much longer? Yet the money is awesome.
The thought of making $8k a month for half the work I do now? Hell yes, I could do that.One month and I’d be out of debt and could pay to replace my nasty carpet with hardwood floors. Two months and we’d have money for a wedding. A nice wedding. Three months and the basement could be finished. Six months and we’d have a down payment on a new house on top of all that. Money money money money!
Then, I think about some of the men I’ve seen at the strip clubs. Sure, at a place like the Diamond most of the men are clean cut, or at least clean. But at others–sheesh. Could I give a lap dance to a good looking guy wearing an expensive suit, tipping me with Benjamins and buying me top-shelf liquor? Possibly. Could I shake my thing for a day laborer with no teeth and a wrinkled $5 bill?
I don’t think so.
Think of it this way: You’re in your car, stopped at a light. You feel someone watching you and you glance at the car next to you. There sits a good looking person. Smiling at you. Flirting with you. Married or not, that feels pretty good. You might smile back, flirt back. Harmless? Yes! Fun? Yes! It’s a little thrill for the day (Yes! I still have it! Woo hoo!) Now, imagine that the flirty-pie is completely unattractive. Do you return the flirt? Or do you quickly fiddle with the radio, or pull forward so you’re no longer in his/her line of sight? Yeah, that’s what I thought. Me too.
And that’s why I could never take off my clothes for money. I’m too much of a snob. I don’t think I could get my head around pretending to be attracted to unattractive people. Which makes me admire women who can strip for a living. They’ve got more balls than I do. And more cash.
Tarot Reading
Posted by: | CommentsI’ve been an ad hoc user of psychics and tarot card readers for more than a decade. Yeah, yeah, it’s all hooey and these people are crooks out to steal your money and blah blah blah. Call me a sucker, but I really do believe that some people have deeper intuition and connection with the spiritual than others do. And I believe they can help give me insight into my own life.
I don’t use these services on a whim. I understand that it’s not typical that I’ll get a straight answer — and I should never expect a yes or no answer.
Given my current state of confusion, on Saturday I had a tarot reading with Kate, a woman I met at Full Moon Books in Lakewood about a year ago. We clicked then, and I saved her card for future reference. When we met at Starbucks in west Denver, we clicked again.
I chose 12 cards. We talked for 90 minutes. I left feeling better and worse, because as much as I know not to expect a clear answer or sign, I still wanted one. And didn’t get it. Thinking back, I also didn’t ask direct questions. I asked: What is next for me in my career? Not: What direction should I point myself. But maybe it doesn’t matter.
The themes:
- 6s and 6 month timeframes
- My life is a reflection of the turmoil in the world and some of this is out of my control
- It’s time to do more inner work
- My perfectionism, especially when it comes to my body and my health, is causing me to be in a war that is killing me
- I can’t solve it all at once, which is one reason why I feel so stuck.
Here’s what Kate and the cards said.
On work and career: Stop looking for the work and start looking for the people
- I have spent the past 12 to 18 months learning and gearing up for a move in my career. She felt some connection with Boston, not that I would move there, but that I would go there or meet someone from there who would be a mentor. A light-haired woman will be my mentor–either someone I come to know or someone whose work I read.
- I have spent all of my life looking for the work, the job, the perfect situation. Now it’s time for me to stop doing that and start paying attention to who is coming into my life. The work, she said, will come to me. I have to let go of the idea that I have to FIND it, and rather let it manifest through the people who appear.
- Marketing, market research, “new” medicine (blend of East/West perspectives), “green” work, and top thinkers are the themes she’s come up with.
- She said I should really listen to my intuition and get outside my comfort zone, especially when it comes to feelings about attending certain classes, seminars, conferences. I told her I have a deep interest in going to BlogHer this year, but don’t have the money. She immediately perked up and said, “Oh, yes, that would be a good idea!” She suggested that I set the intention to go and ask the Universe for the money. So, Universe: I intend to go to BlogHer this year. I graciously request the money to make it possible to go.
- She was the second person to tell me that I won’t fully come into my own professionally until my early 50s, and then I will be a public speaker who is well known.
- She said there is change brewing at my current job that will manifest in 4 to 6 months.
On the relationship: We have a deep strength.
- My relationship with Steve hinges on how he feels about himself. She said that when Steve has strong self-confidence, we are incredible together. When his self-confidence is low, we falter. Given that I didn’t say anything other than I wanted to know about my relationship, it was interesting how spot-on this was. Although, I hadn’t contributed our ups and downs to his self-confidence level per se.
- She said he’s at a crossroads (which he is). She said that he wants me to make the decision for him, and that I should not because other things I’ve decided for him have come back to bite me (and they have). He feels like he’s in a prison (interesting, because he used those exact words on Thursday night).
- She said that our conflict over my relationship with Ryan will continue until he decides to step out from between us and let us make our own way with it.
- Again, she said in 6 months, we’ll come to a point where we make a decision about whether we will move forward together or go our separate ways. I didn’t like to hear this, especially not with a timeline, because I think that can be self-perpetuating.
- With all of this in mind, she said that we have a deep strength and a deep love for each other, and when we draw on that and live from that place, that’s when we are great. So that’s what I’m going to focus on: remembering our strength.
On health: Perfectionism is my dragon
- I have been in a war with my body. (sure have)
- When I let go of my obsession with my body being perfect (weight, physical fitness, no illnesses, everything under control) my body will be perfect.
- The Fertility card came up: We discussed whether I want more children (I don’t), and the fact that I’ve been having all these female issues lately, including not getting my period in March (I’m not pregnant; 3 tests say no). She believes that I have great creativity that is waiting to be birthed, and the fact that I’m not paying attention to it is also causing me health problems, particularly mental health (stress) problems.
- She warned me to take care of my back, especially my mid- to low-back. I’ve had issues with that area in the past due to a bad car accident in 2003, but things have been good for about 2 years. So, I doubted her. Then, lo and behold, last night, salsa dancing, I got dipped funny, felt my back pop in a sick way, and today my sciatica pain is about an 8. I can’t sit for more than about 20 minutes. Where does the pain start? At my waistline, left side, travels into my butt, around my hip, into my knee. Yay!
Final cards: The Wish Card and the Dragonslayer
- I got the wish card. I wished for clarity in my life purpose. The next card was the dragonslayer. Gee, Universe, thanks for the clarity. But it got me thinking: What are my main dragons?
- Perfectionism, especially about my body and health, which manifests in not even trying or giving up when I can’t be perfect, and so much ugly self-talk that I should be arrested for abuse. I want the perfect relationship. I want the perfect house. I want the perfect work situation. I want to be perfectly fulfilled and not feel a drop of discomfort. Hmm. And how’s that working for me?
- Impatience.
- Looking outside for the answers and trying to control the situation (aka, not trusting that my greatest good is unfolding and is mine if I just accept it).
- Trying to “fix” everything at once and giving myself a hard time when I don’t have any focus. Which takes us back to #1.
Kate said the time is ripe for me to make lots of wishes, set as intentions. The reading had lots of cards about going within, inner journeys, etc. and looking for people–in other words: Stop trying to do it all on your own and let people help you, Lynn!
An interesting aside
On the way home from my reading, I was trying to get from Broadway south onto Speer to cut through Cherry Creek, and I couldn’t get over to the right. I grumbled as I drove up 6th Avenue. There are a lot of lights. I wanted to get home to start working on refinishing an old dresser.
As I neared Detroit, I was compelled to stop at this little store called Apothecary Tinctura. It’s an herb and gift store, catering to holistic and homeopathic medicine. There, I was compelled to ask about herbs to help me strengthen my meditation practice (hell, what practice? I should say start it!), and as Kristine was mixing me up a custom blend of Bach’s flower essences, I hear my name.
There was my friend Helen, who I’ve known for about 10 years. She’s an amazing graphic designer and a good friend. We don’t see each other but 2 or 3 times a year.
I started talking about why I was there, and we had a great conversation. Tomorrow we’re going to lunch to keep talking. She and I have always had this connection that allows us to be great brainstormers together. My best professional projects have been done with her.
I don’t believe in coincidences. She decided to stop there on a whim as well. Denver has more than 1.5 million people. We were supposed to meet on Saturday.
I’m paying attention, Universe.
On feelings and forgiveness
Posted by: | CommentsI can usually tell how deep my upset goes with something by how it feels in my body and how able I am to talk about it. The deeper the upset, the tighter my chest, throat and solar plexus feel. The deeper the upset, the harder it is to actually put my feelings into words.
I’m not a master of “feelings.” I used to blame it on being a Gemini. We gems are rational, cerebral, not emotional. I know that my personality leans toward those tendencies. Something troubling me? Certainly, I can think my way out of it. God knows I can’t just sit with the feeling and let it run its course. I’ve come to realize in the last few years that a more legitimate reason for not being good with feelings stems from how I was raised. My mother is a strong woman–very strong. She has had debilitating rheumatoid arthritis for almost 32 years. She lives in pain. Yet I rarely if ever saw her hurting, saw her slow down, saw her feel sorry for herself, saw her mourn for her athletic past that disappeared as the disease progressed. I’ve been pissed off about the way I feel I was taught to handle feelings: anger and happiness are the only two allowable emotions. Everything else? Bury it.
I spent most of my life avoiding feelings by eating them–sometimes, and especially in the last 10 years or so, literally eating them. I avoid them by over-scheduling myself, staying so busy that I don’t have a moment to feel anything. I’ve never turned to drugs or alcohol, but I have spent my way through many a depression.
In therapy during my divorce, I spent a lot of time untangling my inability to feel, and my inability to name my feelings. Angry and happy, those I could name. During that time, I became incredibly resentful of my mom for how she raised us. My brother and sister seem to have similar issues with feelings. None of us know how to talk about them. We avoid confrontation at all costs. I’ve spent a lot of time blaming, feeling sorry for myself for the way I am. This inability to name my feelings, to discuss them without getting blinded by defensiveness or too much thinking, has impacted every relationship I’ve had. I get myself into impossible corners at work because I’m afraid that, if I say something other than I’m OK, people won’t like me or worse, I’ll get “in trouble.” Romantic relationships? That topic is too messy to delve into without writing a book. The worst, though, is my relationship with my mom. I have just recently been brave enough to push through her stuff to talk to her about how I feel about things.
I have always been told I’m wise beyond my years, mature for my age, etc. I think that’s because, unlike most children who would have tantrums, I learned early that such behavior was unacceptable. I know now that I’m not so mature. In fact, I’m quite emotionally immature. I realized about three years ago that I’m an emotional toddler, just learning how to really feel and deal with my feelings constructively.
For the past several days, my life has been a living hell. I’ve been so incredibly upset that I haven’t been able to eat, to sleep, to concentrate. It stems from Steve, who I love more than any man I’ve ever known in my life, and how he has been treating me lately, literally transposing the anger and stress he feels about his work life onto me. Two nights ago, I experienced the final straw. I realized that I was feeling the same way as I had about the time in my marriage when I totally checked out; when my ex started telling me in subtle ways that I was a piece of shit, and I was lucky that anyone put up with me or was willing to live with me. I swore that if I ever came to that place again in a relationship, that relationship would be over. And there I was, in that place with the man I am in love with.
Yesterday, I was so grateful that I couldn’t get into work because I wouldn’t have been able to work anyway. I really believed that I was going to have to ask him to leave. I didn’t know when. I didn’t know how. I couldn’t imagine not having him in my life, in my bed. But I also know that I deserve to be treated with respect and love by the person who put a ring on my finger, and he has been treating me with disdain and disrespect. I’ve done my best to NOT take it personally, but the words had become incredibly personal.
Yesterday afternoon, stuck in traffic on my way to pick up my best friend from an outpatient surgery, the tightness in my body became too much to bear. I called my other close friend, Barbie, and after some hemming and hawing, I began to describe what I was experiencing. That led to me unloading on Laurel later. Which led to me reaching some emotional clarity as I sat on the couch next to Steve, not looking at him or touching him–totally unusual behavior for both of us. I threw my finished Popsicle stick at him, partially because I wanted to punch him in the face but couldn’t/wouldn’t, partially because I knew I needed to talk to him and didn’t know how to start. Everything was caught in my throat and choking me. He got a funny look on his face. “A Popsicle stick, Lynn? Really?” he said, then leaned over to hug me and put his head in my lap. And I burst into tears. Sobs. Deep, racking sobs.
I don’t cry. I used to be proud of this fact, but now, it’s an embarrassment that I don’t really know how to let go like that. I can yell. But I don’t cry. So when I do, it’s a surprise and a relief. I forget how good it feels to cry — not the stuffed up nose, scratchy eyes part, but the unleashing part.
After I cried, it took me a few minutes to start talking. I talked calmly for about 15 minutes. I have learned, actually with Steve’s help because he’s a feeler, not a thinker, how to at least get to the bottom of my feelings. I had spent enough time releasing that pressure I was feeling in my body earlier in the day that I could actually dig down. The sobs unstuck everything from my throat so I could physically express my emotions. So I did. And he listened. And he saw things from my point of view. And he recognized that I was not over-exaggerating or being dramatic. And he apologized, truly.
And I forgave him.
Because in the end, forgiveness is the act that allows you to feel fully. When you are unable to forgive (which doesn’t mean forget, but rather allows you take back the energy you’ve been pouring into a situation), all you can feel in your life is resentment. Being unforgiving is a layer of ice that keeps you frozen in the lower emotions, keeping you from rising to the highest emotion, which is love.
We came to a pact last night. We are going to go over and above in being loving to each other. We are both going to refrain from being sarcastic or snippy. We are both going to consciously think about what we are saying to each other, both in words and in tone. We may screw up. Hell, we’re going to screw up. But the only way we can continue in this relationship is to consciously love each other. And forgive each other when we are not perfect.
This experience–how I handled it internally and externally–brought me some insight this morning. I have a whole frozen ocean of resentment when it comes to my mother that keeps me from loving her fully. I feel anger, not compassion, toward her. And that is hurting me, hurting my ability to grow as a person, hurting my ability to fully love anyone. It hampers my ability to be a good parent, a good partner, a good sibling. I quit going to my divorce therapy sessions because we reached a point where the therapist wanted me to work on compassion and forgiveness toward her. I couldn’t then.
Maybe I’ve moved from being an emotional toddler to a preschooler. Maybe I’m ready to begin that work now.
