PERFECTLY HUMAN

Standing on the soft, wet sand, I watched the ocean rise, sparkle in the sun, curl-up, crest and come crashing back down in a burst of thick white froth in front of me.  The wind carried the cool mist into my face.  I am in love with the ocean.  The ocean brings me happiness and peace.  Surprisingly, it can get better:  my children are with me finding the same joy and peace from the ocean.  With skimboards in hand, they are waiting, watching, learning and understanding the movements of the ocean.   I start to let go of the thoughts and feel the calmness.

Abruptly, a woman starts talking to me.  I am not sure exactly what she has said.  Annoyed at her for disturbing me, I turn and look directly at her.  All I hear is, “blah, blah, blah, surfing, blah, blah, blah.”  I look at her as if she is insane.  I am trying to make out the words, but my anger is rising and stealing my focus.  Rudely, I clarify, “They’re learning to skimboard.”  She does not understand.  Her friend is just as confused as her, but senses my irritation.  I am not sure if the woman is clueless or determined to obtain clarity.  Regardless, she continues with her questions.  Impatiently and impolitely, I explain.  Painfully, the conversation ends.  At first, I am relieved.  Quickly, though, I begin to feel like the asshole I had just been.  The woman was simply being friendly and inquisitive, and I was a complete jerk to her.

Ms. Peace, Love and Happiness, as difficult as it is to admit, had just been downright mean.  My anger was refocused on myself, which helped snap me back to the reality of the moment.  Recognizing my anger, I walked away and sat down by myself.  I looked at the ocean; my kids; the two women, who had rejoined their group of a third woman and a man; the beach and everyone around me.  I remembered I was a human being, sitting here along with all these other human beings, trying to enjoy nature and life.  Equally important, I realized I was perfectly human in my imperfection.  I had made a mistake, and it was O.K. that I made a mistake. 

I still had an opportunity to share kindness.  Before long, I apologized and was sitting with the women having a lovely, friendly time with them.   Just like when I am playing a game of tennis, I made a bad shot.  That shot is over, finished, history.  If I think about the bad shot, I am not going to be focused on the shot I am currently facing.  We will make mistakes because we are imperfect.  It is important to understand; accept; correct and apologize, if possible; and move on.  So often we focus on forgiving others, but we forget to forgive ourselves.

LOVE

At first, I would patiently explain to my kids the change I received at the store was actually my money, and there was no need to be so excited about getting my money back.  It was just my money being returned to me.  Eventually, we got into math lessons and it became evident the children had comprehended the mathematics.  They could tell me what my change should be.  They understood the change was my money and was due back to me.  Yet, the kids were totally thrilled to get change.  Both my boys wanted to go buy things with cash just to get change.  I was perplexed.

One day while playing Bugopoly (a twist on Monopoly with properties like “Cockroach Crevice” and “Stinkbug Street”), I watched the kids consistently and purposely pay with large notes in order to get change.  Perhaps it was the almost-empty glass of the Snap Dragon cabernet sauvignon, allowing me to take a step back; or my fatigue at the end of a busy day, demanding a deep breath and extra patience.  Regardless, I saw what was unfolding in front of me with an entirely different lens.  Actually, for the first time, I saw it without judgment.  Getting change was all about receiving a gift, whether it was already theirs or not.

In the true sense of one love, it was not about what is mine or what you owe me.  It was simply about the pure joy of giving and receiving.  I confirmed my realization with the kids and they replied, “Yeah, it’s just fun.”  When I subtracted my expectations from the equation and looked at what they were doing, it was so simple and completely clear.

Whether it is something material or emotional, as adults, we judge and place value, which makes us want to possess.  We create expectations.  What if we simply give and receive for the joy of the exchange, rather than for what we think is due to us or we want to have?  I do this with my children—I love them without expecting them to love me—and it is liberating.  Being able to love free of expectations breaks down all the fences, and truly becomes one love.  Can I give a man my love without expecting his love in return?  Do you love without needing him or her to be yours?  Can you give without expectation?  Can you receive without expectation?  

ANGER

I talk a lot about peace because peace is love; and peace actually is joyful.  Sometimes, though, all I want to do is be angry and emphatically say, “Fuck you!”  It feels good in the moment.  But after about five minutes, it does not feel so good.  I am still angry.  Anger is not a crazy monster in itself that appears when someone antagonizes me.  I am anger.  Anger is part of my wholeness—not a piece of me or something that is hidden in a compartment, but an integral part of the energy that makes up this human.  We are not little pieces of this and that glued together to create a complete picture.  A person is a whole energy with many aspects.

I used to think anger was bad, and being angry was unacceptable.  Anger is natural.  Taking action with anger is what is bad.   Experiencing my anger and taking care of the anger actually brings lasting peace. The more I deny anger, the more I dwell and suffer in the spiraling and destructive tornado of anger.  It is not just anger that I have to take care of, rather it is every aspect of my energy.  Anger, because of the unpleasantness, is quite difficult to accept and needs extra care. 

There is a fantastic book by Gail Silver called, Anh’s Anger.  It is a children’s book, but has a simplified message most adults can benefit from understanding.  In the story, a boy becomes very angry and is sent to his room, where he meets his anger.  The visualization of his anger; represented as an almost-endearing, crazy-looking, hairy, red creature; helps make the concept less abstract.  The boy takes care of his anger by experiencing it: he welcomes his anger, plays with his anger, and finally sits and breathes with his anger.  As the boy tires and focuses on his breathing, his anger becomes smaller and smaller, and finally fades away. 

“Don’t worry, Anh, I’m not a stranger.  I’m the part of you that comes out when things don’t go your way.  I’m right here every time you get angry.  I know you feel scared when I’m around.  I can make you cry and want to hit things.  I can even make you say mean things to people you love…  But I’m also your friend.  Whenever you feel angry, you should come sit with me.  After we spend some time together, you might feel better.”

  

It is easy to become angry when things do not go our way.  Instead of accepting life as it is, we want to control life and we become angry when things do not go our way.  It is OK to feel angry, but what we do next is critical.  In her book, Nothing Special, Joko Beck explains, “…our practice is to become the anger itself, to experience it fully, without separation or rejection.  When we work this way, our lives settle down.”  Everyday I get to practice accepting my anger.  I do not always do a good job, but life is positively better when I am my anger.

FEAR

A very wise friend of mine recently advised me, “Let your fear shake you.”   It is not so easy to actually practice.  I had been trying to understand how to let my fear shake me since my conversation with her.  It was not working very well for me.  I decided I needed a less abstract and more practical application.  I am an open water swimmer.  Today was my first swim in the ocean after a big swell.  Although the swell had mostly faded, there were still some good sets coming in.  The surf was stirring-up the sand, which caused the visibility in the water to be poor.  In addition, two people had separately brought-up local shark stories this weekend.  To top it off, as I sat down to breakfast this morning, right in front of me was the kids’ new book with a picture of a Great White with its sharp, triangular teeth exposed and ready to devour.  I dismissed the shark theme until as I was about to get in the water this morning, a friend spotted a seal frolicking in the water.  He commented he liked swimming with seals because they are so playful, but all I could think about was that seals were favored items on the shark menu. 

Of course, I got in the water and went on my swim.  I spent the first few minutes focusing on getting out and acclimating to the cold water.  Next, I got set on my course and thought about my stroke.  I settled into the rhythm of the ocean.  I practiced my sighting as I passed the surfers.  Then, when I was out there alone and I could not see beyond my hand, it hit: fear.  Fear of what I cannot see.  Fear of sharks.  Typically when I get scared in the water in Hawaii, I remind myself the proven-awesome Lifeguards are my friends, they know I am out there and are keeping an extra watchful eye on me.  In California, however, I no longer typically swim where or when there are Lifeguards.   However, I regularly paddle where I swim and I know there is nothing dangerous in the area, so I remind myself to trust in this knowledge.  It is rationalizing the fear away.  It works most of the time.  Today, though, I was emotionally raw and I wanted something tangible to apply the, “Let the fear shake you” theory.  So I did not rationalize the fear away.  Instead, I let myself get scared. I let myself flash through the requisite thought of being an irresponsible mother by not being more cautious with my life.  I felt my heart race and my lungs tighten, as I gasped for more air with each breath.  I felt my stomach knot-up as I suddenly found myself wrapped in the kelp.  I calmly unraveled from the kelp, but I felt a little nauseous.   I kept going and even though I was still swimming “blind,” the fear magically disappeared.  Suddenly, I felt relaxed and strong.  With my breathing back to normal, I smoothly picked-up my pace with power and courage. 

Immediately after my swim, I had to face what previously had me feeling emotionally raw.  What unfolded was scary, and it was something I had never experienced before.  After learning how to overcome my fear on my swim, I allowed myself to truly feel afraid, disappointed, frustrated, angry and sad.  I embraced the intense rush of feelings as they exposed themselves one by one.  I accepted the reality of what happened, and I let the fear and the pain shake me.  I spent the rest of the day being completely present in my activities.  What I did not realize until later, was that I was able to be present because I had genuinely accepted my horrible experience and it was no longer horrible.  There was no pain to dwell on, and there was no fear to feed.  I only understood this at the end of the day, when I stopped to actually think about how I had such a lovely day despite what had occurred earlier.  Only by accepting my hurt, was I able to overcome the pain, and appreciate the understanding of a new experience and my confidence that I am more than my fear.

What are you afraid of?  Are you afraid of loneliness?  Are you afraid you will never find your ideal partner? Are you afraid of trying something new?  Are you afraid of change?  Are you afraid of failure?  Are you afraid of leaving?  Are you afraid of staying?  Are you afraid of the unknown world outside your fence?  Whatever your fear is, feel it, let it shake you, and see that you are more than your fear!

PEACE LIST

About a decade ago, I was trying to find peace.  I had recently had a miscarriage and realized if I was going to start a family, I needed a break from the intensity of my fast-paced life.   It was easy to slow down the work schedule and the globe-trotting; however, my passion for justice and fairness in everything from interpersonal to global kept me fired-up.  I compiled a list of ideas to bring calm and comfort: a peace list.   The ideas have been taken from stories, music, people and experiences.   I picked up an old, but special book last night, and my Peace List fell out.  I smiled as I read the simplicity of the words.  Peace truly is quite simple.  The 10 ideas (not in any particular order):

1. How you were raised is an explanation not an excuse.
2. Try to look at it from the other person’s perspective.
3. Don’t take things personally.  People act because of their own wounds—empathize with them.
4. Validate others when they do good things.
5. Relax and breathe.
6. Material things can be replaced.
7. It’s OK to not have control.  The only things you can control are your actions and reactions.
8. If someone does not listen, try explaining in a different way instead of getting angry.
9. Laugh.
10. Love.

I used to read this list everyday.  It did help me calm my mind and my soul.  Today, though, I find something glaringly missing from the Peace List.  In the words of Yoko Beck, in her book Everyday Zen, “Trust in things being as they are.”  Peace!

SUBMISSIVE?

With her new book, My Foot Is Too Big For The Glass Slipper, Gabby Reece has created a stir about a woman’s role in marriage.  She managed this with one word:  submissive.  As a fan of Gabby, I was initially very disappointed.  Did she truly mean “submissive?”  She is a strong, successful woman with a thriving family and career.  She declares herself “the opposite of subservient,” yet she busts out this ugly word. 

Clearly, her choice of words was poor.  Her idea, I hope, is more about the concept of a woman’s wholeness.  A woman can be a powerful, competitive charger; and she can also be kind, compassionate, loving and giving.   I do not accept that a woman should be submissive.  I do, though, believe that a healthy relationship must include both people giving themselves to each other—giving in balance and in love. 

To do anything, one must first be balanced.   A balanced woman is one who is aware of her wholeness.  Being whole is acknowledging one’s spectrum of qualities and capabilities.  For example, we are not whole if we only know our strengths and weaknesses.  What about everything in between strongest and weakest?   Knowing we are whole means being able to be fierce in competition, yet tender in love.  Being whole is taking and giving.   If you give or take too much or too little—if you are submissive or dominating—you lose your individual balance.  In addition to individual partners being balanced, the relationship between two people must also be balanced, with both people giving and taking with love and respect for themselves and for one another. 

Perhaps exposing her vulnerabilities and submitting herself to love is what Gabby was trying to convey.  Love is all about giving, opening, embracing and serving; and it is unequivocally not about obeying, dominating, being submissive or subservient.

PERFECTLY UGLY

Within the confines of the white picket fenced world, if it is not pretty, it must surely be ugly.  When people refer to my ex-husband as “your husband,” I smile and let them know he is my ex-husband.  Sometimes I encounter people who are delighted to see a friendly relationship between divorced parents.  These open-minded people are genuinely pleased to see happy children thriving with both parents peacefully in their presence.  Often, though, I get a very different reaction—a reaction of suspicion and displeasure.

When the perfect life falls apart, a lot of people want life to be perfectly ugly.  The fear of the ugly keeps it pretty.  This is how marriage and divorce should be according to mainstream society.   You should not leave the white picket fence.  If you make the mistake of leaving, you should be miserable.  When life does not follow these expectations, people get uncomfortable.  People have looked at me in complete disbelief and frustration when I have answered; yes, he is the children’s father; yes, we are divorced; yes, we get along; in fact, we are friends; no, we are not getting back together.

The people who cannot accept my cooperative situation actually want blame and drama.  It is easy to expect blame, but difficult to accept blame.  Those old clichés, “it takes two to tango” or “it takes two hands to clap,” have some merit.  Whatever happened or did not happen, a relationship is between two people.  Of course I blame my ex-husband for certain things, but I also accept responsibility for my actions.  I could have chosen to spend my life hating and blaming him.  Rather, I chose to accept my choices and my role in the situation, and focus on living my life.  I chose to continue on with my story, rather than dwell in his.

In tandem with blame comes drama.  He did what?  He said what?  People want to know something terrible happened.  I often get puzzled looks accompanied with the question, “So nothing happened?”  Yeah, nothing happened.  They do not get that.  Where is the drama?  How were you wronged?  Who can I blame?  People thrive on drama.  There must be someone to accuse, someone to sympathize with, someone to talk about and someone to rescue.  What if we change the norm?  What if we create a society that desires amicability and cooperation when a marriage falls apart?  Perhaps divorce will not be so traumatic.  Perhaps families will become stronger because relationships will continue in love rather than hate.  Imagine this kind of world for your children… 

WHAT'S LOVE GOT TO DO WITH IT?

Often, I sit down with my kids to paint an image we have imagined, or capture an adventure we have had.  Sometimes, we just sit and paint without definition.  We let our energy flow through the brush, freely spreading color in whatever shape or design we are feeling.  The last time we sat down to “just” paint, I found myself painting a heart.  When I was done, I stopped to reflect on the sheet of watercolor paper in front of me.  My son asked me about my painting.  I looked up and told him I had painted the spectrum of love.   Of course, the puzzled look from a six year old prompted me to continue explaining the colorful heart in front of us. 

The colors on the left side of the heart were lively, with sunny yellow, bright orange and pretty pink.  This cheery side of the heart was free, happy love.  Happy love blended into a sure and vibrant red in the center of the heart.  At this red core was the power of love.  The red became more forceful as it blended into the right side of the heart, filled with darker colors.  The right side of the heart had deep shades of strong blue and powerful purple.  This side of the heart was destructive love--when love becomes controlling and confined.  Love, I explained to my son, is so powerful that it is in everything we do, feel and say.  I told him when we allow love to be, we can enjoy the brilliance of love; but when we try to control love, we experience the dark side of love. 

Love has everything to do with it.  Our ability to love is our greatest gift.  Love can hurt, but love will fulfill.  Like life itself, love flourishes with freedom.  Love!

A GOOD DAY EVERY SINGLE DAY

A man greeted a woman in a grocery store, “Hi, how are you.”

The woman replied, “Hi.”  And she politely asked, “How are you?”

The man enthusiastically stated, “Good.  I am good.  I am always good.  Thanks for asking.”  He became more emphatic as he spoke; as if he was reassuring himself he was feeling good.

The woman silently smiled, and continued picking her Cameo apples.

The man was uncomfortable with her silence.  Unsatisfied, he resumed the conversation, “I am good everyday.  You just have to get up in the morning, and decide today is going to be a good day.  I have a good day everyday.”

The woman smiled again as she selected another apple, but still did not say anything.  She quietly and happily selected two more apples.  

The man was now clearly perturbed by the woman’s silence and finally asked, “What about you?  What kind of day are you having?”

The woman stated very simply, “I’m having a fabulous day.”

The man was pleased she had finally said something, but he was surprised by what she said, “Fabulous, huh?”

The woman selected the last apple she wanted and calmly replied, “Yes, fabulous.  That’s the problem with having a good day everyday:  you’re going to miss out on the fabulous days.”

If everyday is a good day, something is wrong.  Experience everything life has to offer; experience the good and the bad.  Some days are shitty.  Some days are good.  Some days are shitty and good.  Some days are great.  By embracing all of our feelings, we get to truly experience life—we gain perspective, and we begin to understand living.  Living is not just feeling good all the time.  Life is not always good.  The more we deny pain, the more we dwell and suffer.  When we accept unpleasant emotions and then let them go, we are able to free ourselves from the unpleasantness.  We also gain confidence in our ability to handle whatever comes our way, we begin to connect with people around us, and life becomes more peaceful.  When we hide in a good-day-everyday behind the white picket fence, we miss out on the fabulous days.  

KIDS

For many months after knowing my marriage was over, I thought I had to suck-up my misery, convince my husband to suck-up his misery, and make our traditional family work because I did not want to hurt my kids.  In Robert Emery’s book, The Truth About Children and Divorce, I read three sentences on page 64 over and over again: 

“Divorce is painful.  Despite your fervent desire to protect your children, you cannot prevent them from feeling the pain of divorce.  No matter how hard you try, no matter how much you sacrifice, no matter what you may want, no matter what you are willing to do, this is going to hurt your children.”

As I started to accept the kids were going to hurt regardless of my attempts to protect them, I began to find my way through divorce.  Quickly, I changed my focus from trying to control everything to controlling myself—the only thing I truly could have control over.  It was surely difficult, but I had to get a handle on all my emotions: anger, disappointment, frustration, sadness, pain, loneliness, fear; and I had to get a grip on my behavior: my words, actions and physiological reactions.  A toddler in your arms can feel your anger as your body becomes tense and your heart starts to race. 

With a Master’s degree to verify I was an expert in conflict management, I thought I could find my way on my own.  In a moment of clarity, though, I admitted to myself I was in over my head.  The end of a marriage in a white picket fenced world is more than conflict, it is a colossal failure.  I needed help to find peace in the chaos I was going through.  After interviewing many therapists and psychologists, I found Dr. B.  I was looking for a talented professional who could help me and work with my kids, if necessary.  I knew Dr. B was my guy when I had asked him about his work with young children.  He had replied the goal was to keep the kids out of therapy by working with me and through me on anything related to the kids.  The last resort, he said, was to bring the kids into therapy.  If I was stable and fully functional, my kids would be just fine.  Dr. B also assured me kids have an amazing ability to cope and adapt. 

I might not have been able to give my kids a traditional family; but in a parenting partnership with my ex-husband, have given them endless love and allowed them the carefree joy of childhood they deserve.  The kids are allowed the freedom to openly love both their parents.  We have even taken fun vacations together as a family.  The result of two happy parents who found the courage to break free of the white picket fence is two genuinely happy, sweet and secure kids.