I hold on too long
What a lucky bird you are
I wish my wings would spread that far
Music Monday – spreading my wings
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Author Archives: WendyA
I need a new word for single
I have heard so many theories on the question of whether we are complete on our own, or only complete if we are with another. Because of all the pressure to be partnered, so many people walk around feeling badly if they are on their own, and many others stay where they don’t belong for fear that they will be seen as a failure outside of relationship. All of this misses the point. What is most important is that each of us lives a life that is true to path, whatever that means to us. For some, their sacred purpose is inextricably linked to love relationship. It is there that they excavate and humanifest their deepest meaning. Yet others are called in a different direction and find their purpose in their creative life, in their work, in their individual spiritual practice. Everyone’s soul-scriptures are unique to their own journey. The important thing in life is not whether we find the “one”, but whether we find the path. To each their own way home… (Jeff Brown)
I both like this quote and am irked by it.
Mostly, I like it. Because I do believe that the most important thing is to find our own path. And that often our main struggle is not only allowing ourselves to see the path but with finding the courage and the confidence to walk it.
I am irked by it because to me it implies that we are either meant to be in a relationship or meant to be on a solitary path. Surely, there is a lot more coming and going than that? Seems to me that our purpose can be creative and spiritual whether we are in a relationship or not in a relationship. This state of single hood is neither merely a resting place between relationships (a sort of sideline where one recovers or regroups) or a life-long choice of radical (but lonely) independence.
I was at a work slash social networking event this week and was asked about my living situation. When I said I lived alone, the follow up question was, “are you seeking?”
Caught a bit off guard (I think because I was in work mode) I answered, “yes, but only for quality.”
What the ?? Like my other choice was to say, “yes and I’ll take anyone, thanks!” Or worse, “I’m looking for real quality, not like the rest of you!”
I think what I was trying to find a way to express was that yes, I’m single and yes I would like to share my life with a partner but I am also not unhappy about being single. Oh, and also if I say I’m happily single then that doesn’t mean that I’m committing to a life of being a confirmed woman bachelor (is that even a thing?).
In retrospect, I suppose I could have come out with a lot worse words than “quality” to encapsulate all that. But I sure wish there was a better word. A word that doesn’t require all that extra explanation, which the person who asked me probably didn’t really care that much about anyway.
A word that says “yes, I have found and am walking my path which right now is by myself but which I would love to share with someone but which is not diminished in any way by the lack of that person.”
Too bad that’s not what our society calls single. It’d be a lot faster answer.
Wordless Wednesday – beach break
Image
Music Monday – Cold Moon
Maybe I’ll see you on the cold moon
we’ll meet again beneath the cold moon
thin windows fill my room
with silver from the cold cold moon.
Creating space for a newbie
I love my adventures in glass making but I don’t always love the glass studio.
I took my first glass sculpting class less than a year ago and I joined the glass studio co-op 6 months ago. And, while I love glass beading and glass sculpting, it’s been hard to get to know people at the studio. My fellow artists, I suppose I could call them. (although the word artist still feels strange on my lips and squirmy on my skin)
Its true that creating the glass art can be a solitary act. And, I imagine that no one wants to interrupt someone who is in the middle of a delicate creation. But, aside from my teacher and the one friend who told me about the place, I haven’t really had the chance to talk to others at the studio and to learn and share. Which to me feels a bit lonely.
I do try and be friendly but I am still feeling the jitters of anxiety. Mostly, I am trying to learn the glass art studio etiquette and focus on not blowing the place up.
Last week the studio started Newbie Tuesdays and I couldn’t be happier. Five of us newbies around the torches. Sharing what we love. What we find frustrating. What we can’t figure out. What tricks we’ve learned. And, what we hope to someday create. Supporting each other.
In my giddiness, I went a little crazy with the hollow beads. I have no idea what I’m going to do with them. But I love their size and I love how the air expands as it heats, creating a space where the glass floats in the air. To me, they are like tiny planets. A piece of the cosmos, infinite in variety and each unique. Solitary in their sphere but reflecting the light of their existence into pure beauty.
I can’t wait til next Tuesday!!!
On the subject of potholes
Autobiography in Five Chapters
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk
I fall in.
I am lost… I am hopeless.
It isn’t my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don’t see it.
I fall in again.
I can’t believe I’m in the same place.
But it isn’t my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in… it’s a habit
My eyes are open
I know where I am
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.
I walk down another street.
‘Autobiography in Five Chapters’ was written by Portia Nelson (1920 – 2001) and quoted in “The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying”
7 things I’m giving up on
As a perfectionist, giving up on anything is near impossible for me. That’s like … quitting!!!
Give me dead horse and I’ll beat that thing til it gets up and walks. Which is kind of a horrific expression for which I don’t even want to know the origin. So, maybe it’s more like beating my head against a wall. Yeah, much better.
In the spirit of THAT much nicer image, I figure it’s gotta feel a whole heck of a lot better once I stop.
A friend recently sent me this great article in the Huffington Post called 7 Things I Refuse to Stress About. I think that part of refusing to stress about something is giving up on the expectation of that thing. Or, giving up the expectation of me being something I’m just not!
So, in an attempt to save whatever is left of my forehead and my sanity, here is my list of the 7 things I am okay with giving up on –
1. Getting to work early
I am not a morning person. Well, to be exact, I am not a “jump out of bed and hit the day running” kind of person. I need time to ease into the day. A cup of coffee, lying in bed for a bit, browsing social media for news, tidbits and a check in on the world I’m about to head out into. I figure being asleep is the equivalent of dispersing my entity into the Unconscious for awhile. In the morning, I need some time to piece myself back together. To assemble my parts into a recognizable whole again and set my intent for the day. I used to carpool with a morning person and it was always the gentle tug-of-war. How about 6:30am? How about 6:45am? How about 6:35am and a stop for coffee along the way? When my carpool ended, I just decided to give up on the “early to work” industrious person that I kept expecting myself to be. Now, I sleep longer, wake with the sun and get to work by 9am. No one cares as long as my work gets done. I stay longer in the afternoon ’cause I don’t need to be home for kids or a family dinner. The rest of the office is gone by 4pm. And then it’s quiet and I have as much time as I need for all the productivity that my day requires.
2. Fitting in
Dr. Seuss said, “Why fit in when you were born to stand out?” I know we all need that sense of tribe and a connectedness to other people. But, for years I always felt like I just didn’t quite fit in. I didn’t dress right, eat right, listen to the right music, watch the right TV shows, want to buy the right things. Once I gave up on trying to figure all that out, it’s amazing how much less stressful things got. I still probably don’t do all those things right, I just don’t really care any more.
3. Dressing in corporate clothing
I have kind of a corporate career. But I’ve never been comfortable in corporate women’s clothing. The pantsuits and pinstripe tops. Pencil skirts that end just below the knee. The blouses with that weird kind-of-bow, kind-of-tie thing that drags in your food. I look at women CEOs and I think, “I could probably pull off that job but I’d never be able pull off the wardrobe!”. In an effort to figure out what I was doing wrong, I hired an image consultant who immediately started extolling my curves and encouraged me to dress for the “abundant” shape I have. Once I got over the trauma of that experience and followed her guidelines, I actually found that dressing for work isn’t as much of an ordeal as it used to be. Turns out curvy bodies turn stripes into, well, curves! I’m a lot more comfortable with my clothes now. And, hopefully there is room at the top for an abundantly curvy CEO with fun shoes.
4. Eating dinner foods at dinner
I grew up in a household where dinner was a meat portion, a vegetable portion and a potato portion. Occasionally, there was lasagna or spaghetti but there were always dinner foods at dinner. As a single person, I cook dinner for one. Well, okay, when I don’t eat out, I cook dinner for one. And a meat portion, a vegetable portion and a potato portion is a lot of effort for one person. And before I get inundated with “30 minute recipes for the single person” I’ll just tell you right now that I hate cooking. And everything to do with planning to cook. But, I do love breakfast foods. So I’ve given up on dinner food at dinner. I have eggs and bacon or a bagel with pb+j. When I do have veggies I don’t cook them cause I prefer them raw and it’s less work. Who defined breakfast food as breakfast and dinner food as dinner anyway! I’m recategorizing.
5. Washing my hair every day
I have curly hair. Those of you who also have curly hair will understand that curly hair has a personality of its very own. An unpredictable personality that changes with the weather. Literally. It has good days and bad days. It has fun days full of bounce and grumpy days where it pouts into a limp mess. But mostly, it needs a little oil to grease the wheels. I’m sure it was the clever shampoo advertisers who convinced us that we had to wash our hair every day (lather, rinse, repeat). Not true for my curly hair. My hair looks best on about day 3. Before you get too grossed out, be assured that I wash my body almost every day. Just not my hair. I’ve given in to the ringlet-leader.
6. Understanding nutrition
I think I kind of understood the food pyramid when I was a kid. Since then, it’s been all downhill. Good fats, bad fats, leafy veggies, starchy veggies, whole grains, low fat, high protein, no gluten, protein shakes with flax oil, Atkins, South Beach, paleo, blood type, wheat belly … I officially throw in the tea towel. Trying to follow these conversations, let alone figure out what is all means is stressing me out. And as someone with food issues, the very last thing I need is for my food to take up any more space or energy in my day. So, here’s my nutrition plan. Eat when I’m hungry. Don’t eat when I’m not hungry. Make sure what I’m feeling is hunger and not some emotion like fear, loneliness, joy or boredom. Eat food that is closest to it’s natural state and that doesn’t have too many ingredients I don’t understand. Buy local and organic, if I can. Try to drink lots of water. And, when I screw up any of the above (which I do), don’t freak out and find inventive ways to punish myself. Be gentle and just keep trying. That’s it.
7. Olives
I have tried to like olives. I really have. A few years ago, I went on a vacation to Greece and I was determined to learn to like olives so I could enjoy them in their native land. I followed that saying, “you have to eat seven olives before you like them”. Nope. I tried different kinds. Nope. Stuffed with feta. Nope. In a martini. Nope. In seven martinis! Nope. I do not like olives. I do not like them in my bread, I do not like them as a spread. I do not like them on a slice, I do not like them in my life.
So, if you’re looking for someone who gets up early, washes her hair and has a nutritious breakfast that includes olives, I am clearly not your girl. But, if you’re looking for an imperfect curly haired quitter who has pancakes for dinner, I’m here. Giving up one day at a time.
Wordless Wednesday – Irritatingly, a pearl
Out of the pothole and into the firing squad
After Saturday’s post, I have a whole new level of understanding around why it is hard to talk publicly about depression.
Not that I regret sharing. The comments on what people do to self-care were so enlightening. The number of “me, toos” that came in made me feel so much less alone and more normal. And, the check-ins from my friends by phone, text and e-mail filled me with gratitude for the love and support that I have.
So, not for a moment am I complaining. Quite the opposite.
But the thing about depression is that it thrives in the dark and in the isolation. When I took that away, and when I shone the light right into it’s scaly little eyes, wow was it uncomfortable!
In fact, the vulnerability was excruciating. Squirmy, skin crawling, bolt for the door, in the firing line excruciating. Every fibre in my being was saying Run! Hide! Don’t let them see you! Don’t talk to me or acknowledge me!
And as much as I hate it when people worry about me – who me? I’m fine – I think what I really fear is that people will pity me. Or that people will think I am pitying myself. After all, who am I to complain! Snap out of it!!!
Things are much better today.
The self-care helped. The writing helped. The sunshine helped. Talking helped. Friends helped. Hugs helped.
Growth happens at the edge of our comfort zone. Dammit.
Music Monday – I just fell down a little bit
I just fell down a little bit
Skinned my knee but I’m over it
Don’t count me out
Cause I’ll be back again
A Fish and a Bicycle 