My DNA

Silent Retreat 2007 summary

I went this year hoping, I think, to recapture something. I wouldn't have admitted that ahead of time, but as the retreat went on, it became clearer to me that God was more interested in the present moment than he was in transporting me back in time to give me an experience or feeling I've had before. Two years ago, I went at the end of a terrible time with Bill....really the culmination of all that was the worst in our marriage. By the time I actually went, some things had cleared and it was on the upswing, but I needed my retreat to help me sort out the marriage thing better and to recapture a sense of God in my life. I had just formally come into the Catholic Church three months before the retreat after a long and eventful journey, and I just needed to rest and regroup. At that time God made his presence known in a few 'big' ways: synchronicities, overwhelming insights, times of tears and wrestling, new perspectives, miraculous hiney-tingling hair-raising Presence. Needless to say it was a major event in my spiritual life, and it ushered in an almost-two year period of joy. Joy in God, joy in my marriage's turnaround, joy in life. But there is subtle trouble afoot when one neglects the present and tries to live off the fat of a past experience. You can go for awhile assuming everything is OK, you can brush off small offenses, you can ignore creeping aridity -- because you, in the past, experienced God so powerfully, or because you had a conversion in your marriage. But eventually the cumulation of those collective apathies catches up. In my case, I realized how long it had been since God was an everyday encounter for me; I realized all the signs of strain and tension that my marriage was sustaining; I realized how presumptuous I'd become.

So I thought going on a retreat would take me back to something I'd found before. But God doesn't seem to work like that. He didn't appear, speak, or otherwise grant me an 'experience' I could look back later on and say, "Yeah, that proves to me that God was present with me." Nope, the benefit of this retreat was in learning something else.

On the first day that I met with Sr. Barbara, after listening to the short version of my background, etc., she startled me by saying, "You are close to God." Just like that. Matter of factly. I was stunned....how could she dare to make such an assumption to me after 10 minutes? I asked her. She replied, "Because you ARE!" ( She was not, lest you suspect it, some touchy-feely sister who strummed a guitar and made sure everyone felt positive feelings. She was probably in her 50s and from Brookline MA and I envisioned her going to high school with Hillary Clinton.) So I stopped and thought about it. What if I just accepted her observation as true? What if I stopped beating myself up with how I SHOULD be close to God, and why I WASN'T close to God, and what I needed to do so I WOULD be close to God once again, and just accepted as true that I was now as close to God as I'd ever be? How would that change my life and thinking?

So again, I was dealing with the topic of God's presence, but now I was dealing with it as a reality. That God is already Present. That God never moves. That not only can nothing separate me from the love of God (height, depth, etc.) in an eternal kind of otherworldly sense, but nothing separates me from God in every single isolated present moment of my life. That I can awaken every morning and assume a stance of Presence, not Absence. I am close to God.

How would it seem different to live in that realization, really? It might mean that I'd never have another 'experience' of God's presence; could I live without it? It could mean that I'd begin to realize God's presence in dullness, in ordinary chores, and release my death-grip on needing to feel significant in some grand cosmic scheme, and just relax in being who I am in my little insignificant corner of the world.... and be okay with that. Can I come to grips with being Insignificant? Can I rest assured that God's Presence doesn't depend upon my achieving anything in my life or 'impacting' anyone? Maybe this perspective would mean that I would start to recognize that God is, in fact, the very person I'm talking to, the very pot I'm scrubbing, the very steering wheel I'm turning. God is appearing to me all the time; maybe I'm just not seeing it. Maybe his essence resides in the space between the whirling electrons of everything I see. Maybe his essence is love, and wherever something is done with love, wherever someone needs or senses love.... that's what God is. (Catholic theology even speaks to this idea ....Thomas Aquinas says that the Spirit is the generation of love between the Father and the Son.) Or as Erasmus, and Jung after him, said, "Bidden or not bidden, God is Present."

That I suppose sums up my retreat. There's a lot more. But at least I know my starting point now: I am close to God.

I discovered some good reading: I'm reading the autobiography of Therese of Liseaux. She's of a different time and frame of reference, but she's an interesting character who has a lot to say about laboring in obscurity! I also picked up two other really good books on the spiritual life: one is "The Saints' Guide to Happiness" and the other is an older classic "Abandonment to Divine Providence" -- both are worth going through a few times.

Dona Nobis Pacem

It started on Sunday that I was aware of. It probably started before then. But I knew something in my spirit was moving, and that was a welcome change. I went to mass and as I knelt there thinking and praying, I knew that I was withholding my own peace. I was struck with how easy it was to say "forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us", but how very hard to do; how very hard to feel that forgiveness is the right thing to do, to feel disposed to offer it, to realize that forgiveness is just as much about my own happiness as it is about the other's. That's what started stirring on Sunday.

On Tuesday my friend Beth and I went out playing for the day. I told her to stop by B&N so I could pick up a book I'd had but misplaced. I had been thinking on Monday about when I had been happiest in my marriage...truly happy. It dawned on me that it was when I had given up controlling my dh. I had read a book at the time (called, The Surrendered Wife -- a title I hate, but a book that made a profound impact on my life) and had applied it to my own marriage. This was shortly after I'd started trying to reduce the control I had been exerting on my children. I had been happiest in my marriage at two points in time: the 22 months from June 05-April 07 and prior to that back in 03, when I had applied the Surrendered Wife to my marriage. Those times were the happiest.

It all started to click in my mind. He's the same guy as he was for the 22 months. He has some issues that likely won't change; that's my reality. But just as real were the 22 months when his issues just really didn't show up much. I wonder if there's something I'm doing unconsciously that's precipitating his issues showing up after almost 2 years? Hmmm. He complains that I'm trying to control him, and have been controlling for some time (he just hasn't mentioned it). Is it possible that the only thing that's standing between myself and my own happiness in marriage is ... moi? That if I can just offer forgiveness for his screwing up back in April, AND refresh myself on giving up being a controlling wife, and really listen to him... that I (and he) would be happy again?

I prayed the rosary for the healing of my marriage.

I re-read the book. I saw myself in the pages, and I saw his blowing up in the pages....one quote that jumped out to me was: "Men show up for their roles as fathers in a completely different way once they feel respected by their wives. Even in cases where a man is verbally abusive. Children are less likely to be punished inappropriately, and more likely to be attended to generously when their father feels respected by his wife. Perhaps this is because kids are easy targets for misplaced anger. For example if a man is angry with his wife for being bossy and domineering (ouch), he might try to keep the peace by saying nothing to her. In the meantime, the anger that was never properly vented seeps out as inappropriate outbursts at the children. This is terribly unfair, but it's also very human." What if I believed Bill, as I said I wanted him to believe me? What if he is being a typical human and not a monster? What if I start appreciating the same man who was so fabulous a husband earlier? Could the answer really be as simple as giving up the resentment, giving up the control, giving up? Could that bring about intimacy and happiness and relief and warmth?

I brushed up on how to be a pleasant person again. I brushed up on my phrases: "Whatever you think", "Ouch", "Thank you", "I want...", "I can't...." I started focusing on my self-care: practicing art, practicing yoga, taking baths, etc. (All these are discussed in the book.)

That was on Wednesday. Wednesday night while fixing dinner M mentioned a really nice restaurant in town where he had worked. I commented "I want to go there sometime." Behind me I heard dh say, "How about Friday night?"

On Thursday night he said, "Wanna take a walk?" Even though I didn't really (it was late, I wanted to watch a movie) I said, "Sure, whatever you think." He talked and shared with me about work and his life and what had been on his mind, and how he was working hard for a client in exchange for a trip to Hong Kong together. He watched the movie with me after walking, and stayed awake till the end.

This morning I got up from bed and there was a note on the floor beside the bed along the lines of "Hope you slept well. You look too peaceful to disturb. I love you."

I have hardly said a word. I haven't tried to communicate, fight, write about my feelings, get him to go somewhere he doesn't want to go, resolve any issues. I just forgave him and started treating him like a forgiven person. I can't speak for anyone else, but it's working for me. And I'm relieved.

Fun day

Today at the top of my calendar it says "Fun Day: art? tennis? something with the kids?"
Last night we fought a long time. You name it, we covered it. Same old arguments. Same old blindnesses (on both our parts).
Today is not a fun day. It is a set the phone on silent and crawl back in bed and wonder if the next 25 years will be as hard day.

Tough Love

Maybe that's an overstatement. Maybe it's just "Reality Love". But whatever you call it, that's where we are here in the Land 'o Cotton. Grayson lost his job. Probably the best opportunity one could ever have....and he didn't recognize it. When his car went out (and he can't afford to have it repaired because he's spent all his money), he didn't show up for work. Oh, he halfheartedly tried to find rides, but in reality he leaned on the excuse of "no car" to --in his mind-- free himself of the responsibility to show up. In keeping with my non-coercive stance, I would offer to take him when I could, but that wasn't often.... his job was 25 minutes away, and then there was the return trip... But I didn't nag. This is one of those life lessons that you need to GET, really get, without mom connecting the dots for you. Anyway, he lost the job. And that was Monday and today's Friday...and he hasn't gotten another one. We live directly behind a grocery store/shopping center/restaurant heaven, so there are jobs within easy walking distance. I think he's filled out 4 applications.

So we lowered the boom. Without hunger, who would work? We told him that he's had his year off after high school, and that come August, he needs to either be in school fulltime or in the military. If he isn't doing either of those, he'll need to move out and make his own way in the world. If he goes with the school option, we will require him to take out a loan in his name, which we will repay each semester if his grades are Bs or above. He can live at home or in a dorm, and we'll pay for that, but if he moves out of those he's on his own (I guess we could always renegotiate things down the road if he's caught on to the whole Responsiblity thing).

Life requires you to pay as you go, and the way to pay is to work. I'm tired of the whole slacker mentality that pervades current culture....of grown men living at home with parents because they don't have the umph to make it; I don't want to undermine with our actions the values of hard work, perseverance, resourcefulness. I don't buy into the infantilizing of adults. I'd do anything in the world for my son, but I don't want to render him unable to make it on his own. Even birds push their young out of the nest when they know it's time to fly. So August is fly-time.

Movement

We have movement. I journalled last night, which led to a conversation this morning, which seems to be moving things along(glacially, but nonetheless...) Here's my journal:

I'm sorry you feel that I've not shared myself with you, or that I've hidden parts of myself to the point that you're not sure who exactly I am anmore! As I've been thinking about this I've tried to understand where you're coming from, how it is that I've conveyed that, what it is that is or isn't true in the assessment, and why.
I don't think there are simple answers but let me try to at least take a stab.
I'm trying to understadn where you're coing from...I think it would be frightening to feel like your spouse is uinknown to you. It would engender insecurity, confusion, even suspicion. Those are all things I've observed in you, and so I realize now that this uncertainty is probably where, at least to some degree, they arise from. I would hate to feel that way about you, that I didn't know you anymore! So I really hate it that you are feeling that way about me, and I'm sorry for my part in making it happen. I feel a need to reiterate that I love you. YOU. Irrespective of what you think or how you look or anything peripheral to YOU. I realize now that I've conveyed to you that I'm unknown to you--springing decisions on you, not including you in the processing of my ideas.... etc.... I see how, especially taken together , that could convey that I have "moved on" or have deliberately obfuscated myself. I see how that could leave you standing on spongey ground, scratching your head wondering. I'm truly sorry.
I've tried to ask myself why. Do I want to be know and understood by you? Yes, that's been a persistent theme over our marriage. And so why is it, I ask myself, that I've been vague (consciously or un-)?
- Change = Disequilibrium. My views over the last ten years have morphed and changed. Usually the changes have been subtle -- a different slant on an issue rather than a complete 180. Or I've read articles that have initiated shifts in thinking. But in a relationship such as ours, which has had its share of tensions and ups and downs, disequilibrium isn't something you go looking for! So I've avoided the changes (slight or profound) in order not to introduce even more for us to deal with.
- I've felt your lack of curiosity. It used to hurt me. Maybe over time I just came to grips with it. I stopped expecting it. Maybe I even talked myself out of wanting it. In order to "let you off the hook" of my expectations, I turned to people who were curious about me. Real-life and online friends filled the gap. My mom/sister/dad weren't curious about me, and didn't really want to know the real me anyway if it conflicted with who they wanted me to be. I didn't (don't) put you in that category. I just figured you had other things on your mind, you are a bottom-line kind of guy, you aren't the greatest at being a listening/questioning conversational partner ...whatever. In that sense I did "move on" -- I found and surrounded myself with people who would ask, share, encourage, converse, etc. It's not that you won't or can't or don't do those things; its just that you don't often get "in the zone" with me or initiate it. I "moved on" in the sense that I didn't want to put the expectation on you and be diappointed in you. You shouldn't be expected to do it all, so I told myself to stop expecting.
- I've experienced this with the Catholic conversion. So often, when you make a change, those who don't make the change take your change as a repudiation of them and their cherished beliefs. When in fact it isn't about them or their beliefs at all. As a Catholic I don't disrespect the views of Presbyterians. I respect those who hold them, especially if their faith's been tested, especially when I see they've been sustained by their faith, especially when I see it lived out with authenticity. But you stated that you felt like I don't respect you or your views, that I feel like I've "moved on", that I'm more enlightened, that perhaps I look down on you? Whatever topic it is that I've thought through and had my opinions altered... it isn't a repudiation. I haven't shared a whole lot about those shifts because I didn't want you to feel defensive about your own views, nor did I want you to feel like I thought you "should" think differently about things than you do.
- Sometimes (often) when you share an opinon about something you state it so unequivocally, with such certainty, that it doesn't seem an alternate point of view would be welcome. I don't want to argue, and I don't want a discussion of ideas to be taken personally by you. I don't want to be challenged to produce documentation or proof texts. So when you state something in that unequivocal way, and I have a slightly or completely contrary POV, I just don't say anything. After all, I tell myself, it's fine with me whatever you tink -- I'm not trying to change your mind. But as far as taking it as an opportunity for you to get to know me better, no. I don't engage.
- Along a similar vein, I never know if yours is a well-researched POV, or just the view you've always had, or just a top-of-your-head comment. whether it's not crucial or whether it is a cherished belief. You seem to me often to be "unanimous". You have a pretty well-delineated set of assumptions from which you view things and it doesn't feel like there's much room fo alternate viewpoints, shades of gray, room for discussion. For someone like myself, who loves the exploration, loves seeing the other side's POV, who loves encountering variety, who is more predisposed to appreciating the gray areas -- for someone like me, you're an intimidating person to converse with. It's easier to smile and be quiet.
- Individuation. Maybe it's midlife... but there's an urge in me to learn what it means to be ME. Not as a repudiation of being wife, mother, daughter, etc -- but just as an affirmation of who I am apart from those relationships. Perhaps that urge toward individuation has left me more satisfied working things out in my own mind, more content to think my own thoughts ... and unintentionally I've left you out. I don't want you "out of my loop" but I can see how it may have happened.

....

Anyway, this led to some more discussion, more examples, etc. I'm feeling a glimmer of hope that we can weather this, even if it's slow and cumbersome.

So why'd you go and pick a fight?

I don't get it. We start having a perfectly good conversation (a little shallow, but with potential) and you go and abruptly change the subject, and then start accusing me of not really saying what's on my mind (when I honestly admitted the subject you were now discussing wasn't really interesting to me), and poof. Before you know it, the goodwill's gone, my desire to sit around and be picked apart is way past gone, and I walk away. And you twist everything to sound like I was the one making a big deal out of the conversation. So I'm sure, somehow it will be my fault in the morning, if we get around to ever actually talking about it, which you won't. If it gets talked about it will be because I bring it up.

Listen, I tried. I tried to believe the best. I tried to meet you halfway. I tried to listen and take to heart. But this picking a fight shit is ridiculous. I'm going to the counselor Monday; join me if you want to. I won't hold my breath.

Thank you for finally listening to me

It's been five weeks since all this crap fell out, and a day hasn't gone by that I haven't cried, or else willed myself not to. I told you today that it was like our marriage had a broken leg, and you were expecting us to keep going without it being properly set. It's not been that I'm dwelling on the past, or unwilling to forgive and move on, or that I've just overreacted. Until today, those were your sentiments. So thank you for taking me seriously that I'm really crippled here, and that unless we plow through these things, we're going to continue to hobble along on our bum leg. Thank you for holding me and listening while I tried to explain stuff, and for not interrupting me, or refuting me, or asking leading questions. Thanks for not bristling. Thanks even for not replying. I have no idea how my comments struck you, but it was so nice to just get them all out there without censure; I know the bone isn't set yet, that you will have to respond and we will have hashing through it to do. But I felt heard. It opened the window for a little bit of trust to come back into what has been a cold and lonely house. I miss you horribly.

And thank you for being the fabulous father I've known from June05-April07 tonight. You were great talking with Grayson tonight about his accidents and self-destructive life. You were reassuring, and perceptive, and gentle, and humble. That's the man and father and husband and friend and lover that I just adore, the one I had gotten used to. The one I trust.

What I feel like saying

I'm not actually SAYING it, exactly. But it's what I FEEL like saying. I'm sure there's a big difference.

You win. You obviously have a superhuman ability to ignore the obvious and go on living.
I don't.
So based on the last two weeks (and the times earlier in our marriage...OK, maybe almost the entirety of our marriage) I figure you could go on indefinitely like this. It's power by withdrawal. And you win.
You haven't moved out. You haven't initiated seeing a counselor. Heck, you haven't initiated a conversation.


You have me beat on economic advantage, willpower and silence. You've lost my trust and I'm afraid that it might be irreparably so. I hope not, but I'm fearful.

I can't go on living in a cold house. So I guess I'll have to come up with some sort of a compromise system on my own in order to live. I've got to figure out how it works to live together as a dependent person, without trust, while remaining true to oneself. Wow! That's a tough order.

My compromise would look like this:
I'd like to start enjoying what I do enjoy about you, so I'd suggest we start to talk again and be pleasant. This wouldn't be the same as unity, oneness, or intimacy of course. But it could be friendship and companionability, I suppose. Of course, there wouldn't be acts of intimacy, so it would amount to a sort of a separation. But under the same roof. Maybe just acknowleging this arrangement would clear the air, define our expectations, and allow at least pleasantness to return, and open the possibility for the cold air to dissipate.
Meanwhile, I'd pursue my goals, ideas and dreams while you pursue yours. I don't see a way, without trust and intimacy, to pursue joint goals.
I imagine when we disagree we will just fight.

Maybe eventually the separation and fights will take their toll, and we'll actually separate under two roofs. Maybe we'll decide to go to counselliing to try to find our way back to each other, to trust, to intimacy; and we'll finally realize the potential that this marriage has always had. Maybe some crisis will come along that will force us to go one direction (divorce) or the other (marriage, really).

But that's just what I FEEL like saying today. I'm not really saying it though.

status update

Unsettled. I guess that's where we are now. We've said our peace, and there's no real reconciliation of two divergent viewpoints. So where do you go from there? Do we learn to live together and value the differences (my view, and what I feel like we've been doing for the past 1 year, 10 months) or does it get ugly and cold as power struggles --real or imagined-- ensue? At least there's been communication, but even that feels so different from only two weeks ago. Could it really have been only that short a time since I was so happy?

We have an 'event' tonight downtown. What would have been called a date two weeks ago.... in fact, he emailed me an invitation to go with him to it. Tonight, what is it: A mutual obligation? A shared social experience? An uncomfortable occupation of the same place on the planet? A date? I HATE these questions. I want to find the happiness of our 'second marriage'... not regress to this all-too-familiar 'first marriage'. I want him to realize what's driving his current unhappiness with us. I miss him.

Thanks for removing this from your blogroll. I don't mind the ones who are currently here being here...I'm just not out there fishing for readers. Especially ones that might find me from the 365 readership. I invite everyone there...

Happiness is illusory

The marital bliss I've been in the last almost-two years has been a lie. I didn't know it was a lie. I was actually happy. Very happy. I thought that feeling was mutual. I no longer lived in fear, or eggshells, or manipulation. I was moving toward positive goals, toward a positive future. That came to a screeching halt with some pretty deep-seated ugliness this weekend. The hard part now is that I've tasted how good it can be, how deeply I can love this person. I know I cannot go back to the way it was exactly two years ago. We've had all these conversations before. I can't go back to believing what I don't believe. I won't go back to living in fear. And I won't let my kids bear what they shouldn't have to. And he's as determined as ever...as determined as he was two years ago... and so I know the cold nights I have ahead of me if I stay. It is seeming more and more irreconcilable. I lived in hope, but now I'm living with a bitter reality. I'm beyond sad, and beyond tears, really. It all came crumbling down. And now I have no idea what the future holds for us. None. Will I go back to grad school, or will I have to get a job? Will I grow old with this man, or will I call the attorney? I dunno.

If for some reason you list this blog in your blogroll, please remove it. I want this to be a private place where only those who are already connected to it may view. Thanks.

So far, Easter's really a bust.

Bill and I had words last night following an incident with M (in which he stayed out most of the night after telling us he'd be home at 12-1). When I arrived last night at our date, opening night at the baseball stadium, I knew something wasn't right. He was upset with me. So rather than move into pretend mode, I confronted it after we dropped the kids, as we sat in the parking lot. That didn't get us anywhere, and I left in my car and came home without ever entering the ballpark. Bill stayed behind with the kids. I was hoping for an apology when he got home, but it didn't quite play like that. But we did have a long talk to try to get things on better footing. At the end of the night, though, a few things were clearer.
- He has resented for some time that we are not "on the same page" about parenting. This was surprising to me, as we've gone through the past difficult year without conflict, even though we've both viewed things from different perspectives. I've thought that it has worked well: I give him respect and space to operate from his assumptions, and I've felt respected enough to operate from my own assumptions. With goodwill, patience, and good communication, I think our parenting has gone really well. So I'm looking at the situation with nothing but positive feelings, and he's looking at the same situation with negative feelings.
- He is operating from a patriarchal viewpoint (he is the head of the household), and I'm not. That viewpoint is one of the things I jettisoned when I was getting rid of "belief systems that don't work for me". Since jettisoning it, I've felt greater personal responsibility toward my family, greater freedom to know my own mind in a matter, greater authentic respect for Bill, and greater self-respect. He wants very much for me to believe the same way I did; he carries the weight of "responsibility for having the "end-of-the-day last word", and sees that scenario as the way conflicts should be handled (wherein he solicits and evaluates my advice, but if he doesn't go along with it, he makes the final decision based on his own conscience.) I haven't operated that way in several years.
- He has some strange attachment to a midnight curfew being the litmus test of whether I'm supporting him or not. If I can't wholeheartedly buy into it (or at least act to the children like I do), I'm not perceived as supportive, nevermind all the other ways in which I am GENUINELY supportive (with no faking it). I can't buy in. And it's disingenuous to fake some kind of concord I don't have.
- When I have a goal or take a first step on something that is foreign to him (not something he'd enjoy or choose), he is not my cheerleader. As long as it is theoretical he IS, he tells me I can do anything! Or if it's a goal that he believes in, he's fabulously supportive! But when I memorized a monologue and went to an audition, he was very cold to that idea. So for the sake of peace, I gave up on that idea (and because it wasn't a burning passion, but an interest). Now I'm going to my visit with the grad school professor about starting grad school, and he's offering -- instead of a "Go get 'em! You'll do great!" -- a reserved, dispassionate "objective" questioner stance. "I'm not understanding WHY you want this; I'm not seeing that this is the result of a long-held dream; I'm not sure WHAT you're searching for, and what's driving it, and what you want to get out of it".

I really could have used the attagirl.

Easter meditations

I had a few insights this Easter, from the beginning of Lent until now.
- It's easy, in a marriage that is for the most part free of big issues anymore, to begin to settle into a familiarity that starts taking the other for granted, that becomes polite but not passionate. Bill and I had that discussion during Lent and then, when I went to church the following Sunday, it dawned on me that that's true of one's faith as well. When the season of questing and wrestling is more settled, the ardor settles as well, and the sense of the presence of God starts to fade. It isn't as 'real' (even though it IS real) and not as fun...just like the marriage. So finding ways to regain connection takes effort in marriage (and with God). Paths that sometimes lead to intimacy and knowing can, at other times, become stale, and new paths need to be cut.
- There's a period of time between when hope is lost and resurrection occurs. I thought of this on Holy Saturday and photoblogged about it a little. In my life, I can think of several times (two of lifechanging significance) when I saw my dream die. Really truly die. It was over. And I lived in that place, bereft. But hope was around the corner. I couldn't see it. I think you sometimes have to completely lose something (it has to be beaten and crucified, and taken down, and laid to rest, and mourned) before you are ready to find it resurrected in a better form than imaginable before. If you try to shortchange the loss by continually protecting yourself from such a profound loss, you'll never experience the resurrection. No one in their right mind seeks the loss (wants their marriage to end, wants their child to die, wants to be homeless or jobless or diseased, wants to lose their faith) -- but it seems that often it is in retrospect that one can say, despite the bitter loneliness of Holy Saturday, they found resurrection and hope and life and goodness on Easter, and they wouldn't go back. Whether Holy Saturday lasts for them 2 hours or 20 years...they wouldn't go back and change it.
- Without hunger, food doesn't taste as good. When I stay sated, I tend less to be focused on hunger and what positive effect hunger can have in driving me to the thing I most need. Fasting has a way of burning away and cutting to the heart of things. I don't practice it enough, or well. But when I do, I'm instructed by it. It ties in with the other points, too. It is one of those ways to experience bereftness in order to experience joy; it's a path toward learning not to take something for granted.

This was a selection from Gustav Mahler's Finale to the Resurrection Symphony (translated) sung during mass today. I really like it.

Oh believe, my heart, oh believe:
You will lose nothing!
What you wanted, you will have.
What you loved and fought for, you will have.

Oh believe:
You were not born in vain!
You did not live and Suffer in vain!

What was born must die!
What passed away must rise again!
Stop your quaking!
Prepare yourself for living!

Oh pain! You, the all-penetrating!
From you I have escaped.
Oh death! You, the all-compelling!
Now you must yourself submit!

With wings that I have won for myself
In my ardent quest for love,
I will soar up
To the light, to which no eye has beheld!
Die I must, in order to live.
Rise again, yes, rise again you will.
My heart, in one moment!
That which beat you
To God will it carry you.

Vacation with ... friends

Family vacations are great. They're the usual means of travelling, relaxing, and savoring the experiences of vacation. But there's certainly times when family vacations become... tiresome? Sometimes, the personalities with whom I spend most of my waking moments with begin to grate on me. Or there are times when I suddenly realize, my child would really rather be with friends than with family. Or times when just Bill and I would like to get away together sans les enfants. Children grow up, and away, and begin to experience their lives, including vacations, away from parents and siblings. There are times when, gasp, I'd really just rather be by myself, thankyouverymuch.

I don't remember exactly when the first one was, but for the past 6-7 years, Bill and I have begun taking separate vacations, in addition to the ones we take as a family or as a couple. He goes to the beach for a long weekend. I fly off to visit my internet friends. He goes with his best buddies to Utah to ski. I go away for a week of silence at a Jesuit retreat center. He goes off to participate in one of his new passions, adventure racing. And so this easy give and take of individual vacation time has slowly become a healthy part of our life landscape. This year, I thought I'd love to have a week at the beach with just girlfriends....to provide a place at the beach house for my buds to chill together, new and old, ones who live near and ones who live away. So I asked a few close friends to invite one of THEIR close friends, and join me.

And so they've come. So far it's been perfect. We've walked the beach, drunk margueritas, played games, practiced yoga, listened to one share a chapter of a book she's writing, napped in the sun, drunk wine, cooked and cleaned up (no one has to be asked! no one says, "But it's HER turn to take out the trash!"), gone out to eat, petted the dog, drunk tea, laughed ourselves silly, eaten donut holes and ice cream and chocolate, drunk coffee, surfed the web, sketched, made monoprints, worn pajamas all day, sudokued, laughed, drunk whiskey sours, watched a movie and American Idol... In a word we've had fun. And this from people whose only commonality is that they know me or someone who knows me!

In what's shaping up for me to be multiple vacations, there is an ebb and flow here: someone comes, someone leaves, several stay. It's a changing landscape with enough stability of guests to maintain continuity, and enough rotation of fresh faces to keep things interesting. Today Kathy and Judy will leave, but three others will come. My old friend from elementary school is here, alongside an artist friend I just met this past year. I'm anticipating the ones who are coming (5 more), I'm sorry for the ones who couldn't make it, and I'll be sorry to see the last friend leave. And I think, by then, I'll be ready to go home, meld back into the familiar rhythms, and embrace marriage, family, and real life.

It's been a great event to mark my 45 years in the galaxy.

Lent is good for setting things right

...for returning to the place I should be.

For too long, I go along slip sliding into a comfortable place. Lent is to some degree about discomfort...fasting, abstinence, denial. All those kinds of discomfort bring my soul into a place to better address my need to be shaken up a bit: to return to a path from which I've strayed, to confess the faults I'd sooner forget, to right the wrongs I've perpetuated in my world, to renew the intentions I've made in the past and bring them into line with the present. It's a good time to recognize how I've taken people for granted... Bill reminded me of that this past week. It's a time to come face to face with the sly way controlling tendencies worm themselves back into my relationships. It's a time to return to prayer, to attention, to deliberateness. It's a time to approach my spirit with greater reverence. It's a time to challenge myself to be the one I claim to be.

In this vein, I spend some time:
- in solitude. Not reading blogs, not posting my photos, not scanning articles. But thinking my own original thoughts, being with myself and my thoughts long enough to glean from myself.
- with friends, strengthening connections that are real and not superficially based.
- in yoga. Working on my fitness, my inner awareness, and my body/spirit connection.
- in prayer. Actually doing what everyone talks about.
- envisioning my desired life.
- returning to my roots in non-coercive parenting and non-controlling spousing.
- designing compassion projects that are doable for me.
- loving Bill well. Doing something, however small, to let him know he's important to me.

Where I am From

I am from sweet tea and Little Debbie cakes, from biscuits from scratch and from real butter. I am from fried chicken and Uncle Ben’s, from three square meals, with a yellow and a green vegetable, a starch, a meat, and maybe if I was lucky, a big bowl of ice cream. I am from Sunday dinners with the missionaries from Jordan, Kenya, Peru, Japan.
I am from a blue and white Delft kitchen, from wide porches and colonial pillars, stone fireplaces and murals of the Matterhorn. I am from rabbit ears and rotary phones. I am from cedar split rail fences and bamboo hiding spots. I am from a drafty cedar closet lined with piles of old National Geographics. I am from wrought iron balconies and shag carpet. I am from cool basement and attic fan, from the hook and eye on my mom and dad’s door, and from wobbly crystal doorknobs. I am from the porch swing that lived inside, for courting. Because of course, when the squeak, squeak, squeak stopped, one needed to take note.
I am from towering magnolias, fragrant blossoms with matchstick centers and red seeded pods when the blossoms faded. I am from boxwoods so large I could hide in them every afternoon and play school, and house, and lead the choir. I am from weeping willows I could climb when I was sad. I am from sand dollars and shark’s teeth, palmettos and scrub pines. I am from creeks and boulders, birthed from the ancient Appalachians. I am from Pop’s roses, and Grandma’s jonquils, and the occasional stolen hydrangea from Mrs. Ballentine’s yard.
I am from the Cobb reunion, and I am from early to bed and afternoon naps. I am from judgment and generosity. I am from Papa Cobb, patriarch of my mother’s line and I am from Lib and Katy and Fran and Ruth and Sue, steel magnolias all of them. I am from bad grammar and good hearts. I am from Pop, who took me fishing and drove 30 miles back to Greenwood once, when I left my Barrel of Monkeys at the restaurant. I am from Grandma’s fried pies and paperdolls, and I am from rockers on her porch. I am from alcohol, and pedophilia, and drugs and mental illness; and I am from bedside prayers, and faithfulness and love that withstood.
I am from good humor and laughter. I am from not saying what you truly feel. From being a good girl and not breaking their hearts, like Bob did.
I am from Wesley and Calvin. From altar rail and font. From twice on Sunday and once on Wednesday night. I am from red church doors, the Trinity hymnal and offering envelopes. From soloists and organists and people who had it together, no matter what.
I am from Greenville, from the foothills. From grits and gravy, and Grandma’s lemon pound cake. I am from the summer scent of chlorine. I am from the comforting aroma of leaf mold quietly decaying under a canopy of oaks and hickories.
I am from black-leafed leather albums holding black and white squares of dogs and smiling children and Easter hats. I am from carousel upon carousel of aging colored slides, journaling trips to Egypt and Greece and France, to Kennebunkport and Myrtle Beach and Abbeville.
This is where I am from.

This about sums it up

Conversation with DD on phone:

Me: Just wanted you to hear it from us: your brother was arrested last night for disorderly conduct.
Her: Which one?

Yeah, well, when you've got three teenage boys, I suppose that IS the question isn't it?

-----
I'm coping with it alright, but I don't want to go into detail here right now, for his sake.

Funny aside: just before we got "the phone call" Bill had just commented to me as we were leaving the restaurant after lunch, "I wonder what we're going to do for the next hour before we have to take M to basketball practice?" Don't ask what you're going to do to fill a blank hour, unless you want something to come along and fill it!! :-)

I'm not sure I believe this about myself....

...but I'm glad middle aged women like me, since I am one!

You Are Elmo

Sweet and innocent, you expect everyone to adore you. And they usually do! You are usually feeling: Talkative. You've got tons of stories to tell. And when you aren't talking, you're laughing. You are famous for: Being popular, though no one knows why. Middle aged women especially like you. How you life your life: With an open heart. "Elmo loves you!"

The Sesame Street Personality Quiz

Do you know .... The Secret?

Naysayers, just hold your tongue.

Did anyone see the Oprah shows about The Secret? I did. I was mezmerized. I realize that there's nothing new under the sun, and that this is nothing revolutionary. But with that caveat, I'll have to say it confirmed for me things I've noticed over the last years, things I've observed spiritually, things I've observed in my relationships with children and family. Somehow, the way the messsage was packaged really spoke to me. Not in a way that I'm living so differently from "The Secret", but it spoke to me in a way that says, "You already know this! Remember when such and such happened?.... That was this principle in action!" It spoke to me in ways that I might find helpful to take me further along the path of life I want to create for myself. It dovetails with what Bill's been learning and implementing in his life through his life coaching. It's a message that my kids need to hear. It was the most inspired I've felt in a long time.

I've ordered the DVD, jumped on the bandwagon, and am planning on making my life and my world a better place.

Do YOU know The Secret??

PS. If you missed the Oprah show today and last week you can go to www.thesecret.tv or to Oprah's website and learn more.

On opportunities

This is the photo that made me cry.

We took M to Duke University yesterday. We sat in on a class, ambled around campus, ate at the Great Hall, watched the video, toured with the admissions volunteer, and sneaked into the gym. There he picked up a basketball and took a few precious shots. On the hardwood at Duke University. Duke. The Blue Devils. Coach K has walked on that floor. All the greats that he has admired have practiced on those hoops.

And he could have it.

At first he was impressed, engaged, envisioning himself there. He listened and observed. He talked and evaluated. At first. But slowly, the demon that haunts him got the best of him. He began rationalizing why he couldn't, why it's really not so great, why his dreams were just kid's dreams.

I hate that demon. It's the same demon that renders him an underachiever. That tells him to shoot himself in the foot. That blinds him to the wealth of opportunities before him. That causes him to cave under a self-inflicted Pressure to Succeed. That causes him to despise the very gifts he's been given. That stifles the passions that are there. That makes him value mediocrity as the mark of someone cool.

When I got this photo back, it just crystallized all those feelings for me: The boy. The posture. The ball. The place. The time. The screen. The choice. The opportunity.

The very best part of my day!

Grayson surprised us at dinner tonight....by walking through the door! He flew into town late last night and stayed at a friend's so he could surprise us all tonight when we got home. I screamed and jumped on him, while Bill and M were still scratching their heads trying to figure out who that familiar guy was! We all went out to dinner together and tried to get our minds around his being back! I wish he had stayed longer for his sake, but for my sake, I'm happy he's home! He said he was just ready to be back, and 3 months is a long time, so here he is. :-)

Some challenging thoughts

...lifted from a blog called Today at the Mission: (I still need to figure out how to make a link work...)
http://mission.squarespace.com/-journal/2007/1/7/the-following-jesus-manifesto.html

The 'Following Jesus' Manifesto
1 Stop talking about Jesus. Just stop. If we loved the people around us half as much as we say we love Jesus the rest of this manifesto would be entirely redundant.
2 Live a secret life. Invest the time, effort and vulnerability necessary to delve deeply into the scripture and prayer. Spend long periods of time in stillness. There is no shortcut to this, there is no other way. Without a deep and secret life we soon find ourselves talking about Jesus instead of being like Jesus.
3 Stop pretending. I'm a Christian, and I suck. So do you. Let's get that out of the way, shall we?
4 Give more than you get. There will always be more than enough.
5 Be present for those around you. Following Jesus has nothing to do with your work, your resume or your income. In fact, nothing that matters does.
6 Treasure broken-ness. Our broken places are sacred spaces in our heart. Honour them. Value them. In doing so you love the unlovely, publicly declaring the beauty of God's image in everyone. Greet the broken with comfort and cool water.
7 Throw a party.
8 Know Jesus well enough to recognize him on the street. This is rather important, because he can always be found on the street - and he usually looks more like a pan-handler than a preacher.
9 Accept ingratitude and abuse as a fixed cost. Embrace them, and then go the extra mile.
10 If you follow Jesus, you will anger religious people. This is how you will know.

I know I need to return to #2. I've gotten pretty good about #1, but I'm not sure if it is apathy, or true love of others. Probably the latter. I'm fairly good at #3, although because I look pretty 'clean' it could look like an act. I never give enough, so #4 hits me. And #5... since I have no income, work or resume it would seem that I should be able easily to 'be present'; but I still mightily struggle with this. For instance, I'm typing away, and my dh went to bed alone. #6 sounds nice, but I cannot say I treasure brokenness. I run screaming from it, is probably more honest. I'm great at #7... check. I'm always up for throwing a party....finally, a commandment I can keep! I hope I can mull over these, and the rest of this list tomorrow; but I'll be satisfied if I can just work on #2.

A hymn for MLK Day

We sang this hymn at mass yesterday, and it struck me as appropriate for today's holiday....

O shame to us who rest content while lust and greed for gain
In street and shop and tenement wring gold from human pain,
And bitter lips in blind despair cry, "Christ has died in vain."

Give us, O God, the strength to build the City that has stood
Too long a dream, whose laws are love, whose ways, the common good,
And where the shining sun becomes God's grace for human good.

Already in the mind of God that City rises fair:
Lo, how its splendor challenges the souls that greatly dare:
Yea, bids us seize the whole of life and build its glories there.

Waiting for some divine wisdom to break thru those clouds

But it doesn't happen that way, does it? When you're left to decide between two undesirable options, it becomes harder and harder to get excited about committing to either. And so we've made lists of pros and cons, and prayed, and had this decision nagging at all our minds these last two weeks. And so we decided to continue homeschooling, and having that decision made really provides no relief. Neither M nor I want that option, but I guess I have to come back to: it isn't always about what we want. I'm not ready and we don't think M is ready, for the ramifications of the other option. So there it is. No heavenly visions to guide us, no voices muttering to us, to alignment of stars, no sense of peace, no sense that 'it's the right thing to do'. Just a decision, and then we move on.

Uncertainty and opportunity

We met yesterday with Willis. He talked with us the entire morning. He thinks M shouldn't risk going to RHS, and should prove that he can finish strong while homeschooling....he doesn't think M is ready. So that threw a damper on M's enthusiasm and yet served as another voice in his life who refuses to soft pedal the choices M is making and how vulnerable he is. Willis repeated so many things we've told M in the last few days, it became funny. But Willis has a gift for communicating, for motivating, for encapsulating a truth. M responded afterwards that Willis had so much right in his observations that it was hard to say that he disagreed with his assessment that he should stay home. He definitely gave M something to think about.

Then we came home and my dear friend Beth came over. She mentioned that she and her pastor had been invited to Uganda for two weeks in February to teach there, but they needed a third person to go (so it wouldn't look like the pastor was running off with a parishioner!). I suggested M. She immediately yelled upstairs to him, 'M, do you want to go with me to Uganda?' Totally took him off guard, but wouldn't that be an incredible opportunity for him? He could teach a sports camp, or play with children at an orphanage, or read stories to children, or whatever! He's not sure he wants to yet, but he's thinking about it....

Then our priest came over and and talked with M. M said later that it wasn't so intense as our meeting with Willis, and said it was a welcome break. I am glad that he and the priest hit it off well.

So I guess we're no closer to deciding what to do for school, than we were. But at least we're listening, evaluating, thinking about the options and the ramifications. The photo is of the sky this morning, and it's reflective of the hope I dared to feel after all the days discussions.

A contract is in order

I admit that the noncoercive parent in me bristles. But the realities of broken trust must be factored in the fabric of our lives, unfortunately. And so the last week has been spent in thinking...how to live after the trust has been broken; how to live with the knowlege that there is a cycle of self-defeating behavior going on; how to reconcile the spiritual, the sociological, the psychological aspects of this one person, our son; how to address the practicalities of life, which have been on hold this week. It hasn't been a fun place to be, as a parent, and probably an even less fun place to be as a 15 year old!

Tonight dh and I proposed a contract. By signing it ds would be allowed to start at the public school asap, with no determination made for the following year. One thing at a time. Since I'm unwilling to homeschool anymore, he needs some solution. Otherwise, he would have to continue at the homeschool coop, and just lose the half credit that I was teaching him this semester. But he is miserable homeschooling, and I do feel like he has more than atoned for smoking pot.

Here's the contract.
"I will go this semester to R High School.
Here’s what I agree to:
ACADEMICALLY:
I will finish all outstanding homeschool work by Jan. 15.
I will spend two hours a day doing schoolwork. Academic housekeeping, reading, studying, reviewing, writing, homework, research, or just plain thinking... I’ll schedule two hours per day to do this, without the interruptions of TV, cellphone, or IM.
I will keep a planner, that is available every night (not left at school).
I will make all As and Bs on all report cards, including progress reports.
If I start strong, and then begin slacking off on any of these, I’ll lose privileges. I know that up front and I’m not going to make mom and dad miserable when they enforce this.
I will continue piano twice a week with the current practice requirements (30 minutes a day), and I will do a student show, in order to get the credit for Piano Performance.
I will continue to play with W___, in order to get the credit for PE.
SOCIALLY:
I will not drink alcohol, smoke pot, or any other of those things that will get me nowhere.
I will tell the truth. No lies, no hedging, no rationalizing.
I will rebuild trust with dad and mom. If something goes on at school, or where I am, that isn’t right (drinking at a party for example) I’ll let mom and dad know. Not so that they can have a coronary, or so I can get someone in trouble, but so I can rebuild trust. I won’t make mom and dad guess what’s going on, and I won’t make them ask the ‘right questions’ in order to know what’s going on.
Facebook, My Space, and anything like that will be open to mom/dad. There aren’t any realms where I have a secret life.
I will not orient my life toward my friends, and be strangers to my family. I’ll have my friends over here so mom and dad can get to know them.
I will go to church with the family.
I understand that my social privileges will be gradually reintroduced, and I’m not going to give mom and dad grief about it. Trust takes time, and I’ve really blown it to date.

Additionally, I am signing here that my attitude is going to be that mom and dad are on my side, trying to help me and that they may see things I’m not able to see. So I’m admitting that I trust them to have my best interests at heart. I’m willing to humble myself and accept whatever ‘suggestions’, restrictions, or programs they have (down the road, based on how things go).
I understand that although this is a checklist, it isn’t exhaustive, and it isn’t a list of rules. Rather it is reflective of a few basic values: truth, integrity, self-discipline, trust, and cooperation to name a few. The intent here is that I am going to live in the truth.
I understand that decisions about my junior and senior year will be made later, taking everything into account for my best interests and based on what I learn about myself in the meantime and on what mom and dad observe. I am not interested in accepting less than what I’m capable of, and decisions about the future will focus on this.
I’m signing this of my own free will, because I want to succeed, I want to make positive changes, and because I realize that going to school is a privilege...and not because it’s what mom and dad want to hear. I’ve asked all the questions I need to make sure that I understand what I’m signing."

He clarified a few points, but overall seems happy to sign it. From our POV, we want to follow up with counseling, mentors, ADHD evaluation/accomodations, etc. There's no way this isn't coercive, but I think he does realize that we're in a screwed up morass and this is a hand up. So he's willing to take it. We'll see what happens. Our options, if he becomes passive about fulfilling it, are slim and I recognize that going into it. But ... theres not a lot of other ways to go, to our way of thinking, after a week's brainstorming. So here we go.

insights

On the way home from the beach yesterday M and I talked a lot about what happened with him on new year's eve. Between the two of us we came up with these insights.
-He loves the thrill of adventure, fun, adrenaline, risk....not so much the actual form it takes (alcohol, pot, dares, etc)
-He has something going on (psychological or spiritual or both) where he forgets the wrong thing he's doing even as he's doing it. He has an incredible capacity to zone out of his own life so he doesn't have to deal with the dichotomy of belief and action, and so he doesn't feel the pangs of conscience.
-He's resistant to God, though it doesn't sound too nice to admit to it.
-What causes the greatest losses in his life are not the bad actions themselves. It is always the lying about it afterward that causes the losses...of school, of reputation, of opportunities. People are usually willing to forgive if you're really sorry and admit to your failing. If you don't demonstrate a striken conscience, and you lie to cover up, folks aren't too willing to give much.
-He lies to himself on a daily basis, always rationalizing things that are unpleasant (whether it is a pesky conscience, or homework, or whatever)
-Somehow this amalgamation of self-deceit, dulled conscience, living in a fog, thrill-seeking, risk-taking, lies, etc. is causing a cycle of self-destruction. Just when he keeps his nose clean for awhile, then he is presented with the opportunity (in whatever form it takes...could be cheating at cards, or streaking on the golf course, or stealing something just because he can, or getting high...) to take backward steps. He seizes the opportunity. Then he denies his involvement, both to himself and to others. And then he loses any forward progress he's made, and his chances for a 'normal life' get less likely.
-It really does take stuff like honor, responsibility, living with integrity, perseverance, a good name, self-discipline, and all those other old fashioned concepts to lead a normal happy life. Otherwise you're crippled.

and it just doesn't stop

At 5:30 this morning the back door closed. And so it started, the lies, the posturing, the clouded memory...
M was bored last night on New Year's Eve. Don't blame him...it is quiet here at the beach, and with Bill's toothache we didn't make any exciting plans. So he went for a walk on the beach. Where he happened to meet someone. Who happened to let him in a party at a private home, here on the island. Where he met someone else. Where he went to another party. Where he drank himself drunk. Where he inexplicably decided to steal $200 and a girl's photo ID'd credit card. From which he came home at 5:30.

Then he had the audacity to tell Bill that he had just been walking on the beach, thinking about his life and his friends. He decided he was going to lose the friends that were weighing him down, and he was going to recommit himself to finishing strong and getting back in school. This is, after all, the child who lost over a year of his high school experience, countless friends, his reputation, and trust/freedom for having sneaked around smoking pot. (We were supposed to fill out his re-application to school today.) So Bill and I talk for over an hour about his story, knowing that it didn't hold water, but wanting to believe it to be true.

So they packed up the car around lunchtime to return home, just Bill and M together. A car pulled in the driveway. It was his new 'friends' who were, um, missing some things. For some inexplicable reason he had left behind his wallet when he got in the car to leave, so he went back inside and got the items he had stolen and returned them. Thankfully, these friends didn't call the cops....they just came looking for him. Probably because if they called the cops they'd get busted for serving alcohol to a 15 year old. But whatever.

I'm just numb. My life has been made a mockery of...all the time I put into homeschooling him so he could get back in school. All the sacrifices he has meant for us. For what? So he can throw his life away. It isn't just a whoops! bad decision. It's a pattern of self-defeating behavior that he cannot even explain. He doesn't know why he stole a credit card he couldn't use anyway. He doesn't need money for anything....he has everything he needs and most of what he wants. He can't explain lying to parents who give him nothing but blessing and benefit. He. is. self-destructing. And I cannot make any sense of it. He had so much going for him. But like we told him, he's not just throwing away 15 years of achievement and good genes. He's throwing away his future now. School next year? He won't get in St. Jo's because we cannot honestly look them in the eye and say that he's changed. That's all they are looking for. College? He's one step outside of jail this morning, so it's hard to imagine him getting into some ivy league college (which is what he's capable of). Respect? Friends? Reputation? Nope.

So here I am at square one on New Year's Day wondering what the hell is happening to this wonderful, beautiful child of mine.