Taking the Bad with the Good and Loving through It All

Some rights reserved by Avital Pinnick

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times." So begins Charles Dickens' classic The Tale of Two Cities. It could also have been the tagline for this week. It was a week in which a flare spontaneously ignited in the trunk of my son's car causing a small fire ... but, it was also the week in which I got cast for a role in The Laramie Project, a play that I desperately wanted to be in. It was a week in which we got some very disappointing news regarding a work situation ... but, it was also the week when both my husband and I had some very enlightening self-discoveries. In other words, like many weeks that all of us have ... it was filled with the good and the bad.

I think that somewhere along the line, many of us learn to think of the good stuff as somehow earned or merited. Conversely, the negative stuff is seen as some sort of punishment or deserved suffering. But that's kind of silly when you think about it because sometimes the bad stuff is what leads the good stuff or makes it possible, at least. And, in other cases, something that seemed like "the good stuff" several weeks ago, turns out to be not so good at all once we've lived into it.

More and more, I think that I am beginning to figure out that our lives are full of "stuff" and whether it is perceived as being "good" or "bad, the "best of times" or "the worst" depends upon context, the people involved, our own feelings and/or disposition at the time, and a host of other variables over which we have little to no control. The one thing I can control, however, is my reaction ... my response to the stuff.

Over the past several weeks, I have tried to be much more intentional about taking time during my day to mentally step back and just breathe (both physically and mentally). Whether it's in 5, 10, or 20 minute snippets ... just taking a break to reflect upon who I am and where I am in my life has helped me to put both the stuff that I perceive as great, the stuff that I perceive as horrid, and all the stuff in between into perspective.

So ... those are my words of wisdom for today: Remember to breathe. It's helpful in the best of times. It's helpful in the worst of times.

Putting Things in a Safe Place

Some rights reserved by michaelstyne

I had one of those mornings last week. You may know the kind. It was one of those mornings where I woke up kind of crabby, not feeling great, a little on edge, and proceeded to treat the people I love the most like crap. Of course the realization that this was occurring did not help because once I realized it was going on, not only did I feel crabby and edgy, but I also hated myself for being crabby, edgy, and a bit of a snit.

Later, when I tried to apologize, I was assured that it was okay and reminded that, after all, if I couldn't be crabby and edgy with the people whom I love and who, presumably love me, where would I be safe in doing it? It's a tricky balancing act, I think. And, I think that part of what was so difficult about the morning for me was that instead of realizing that home is a safe place where all of the not so pleasant parts of me can find a safe haven, I instead wanted to look at the crazy woman who was griping at her son and husband over really petty stuff, as someone other than me. The real me would have been in control of her emotions, the real me would be kind and loving even when feeling stressed out, the real me would have been better than that woman ... so clearly, this was some sort of an impostor standing in my kitchen.

I've thought a lot about the ensuing conversation over the past few days ... about how being at home and with the people we love should provide a haven for us not only when we're at our very best, but also when we are at our very worst. And, I'm thinking that what the love of home and family has actually done for me ... you know, after nearly 50 years of living, because sometimes I am that slow ... is to provide a safe place where I can acknowledge that the evil impostor who sometimes invades my skin ... she's just as much a part of the real me as the bubbly, encouraging, carefree me that I enjoy a whole lot more. I don't think any of us wants evil-me to hang around all the time ... but, I'm thinking that maybe, if my family can love her and provide a safe haven for her ... well, then I just might be able to as well.

I Gotta Be Me ...

A friend of mine and I were recently discussing the tendency that many of us have to listen to that part of ourselves that tells us all of the ways in which we've messed up, fallen short, or failed, long before we listen to that part of us that comments on all the ways we've gotten it right, done well, or really shined. In the course of the conversation, my friend commented that the reality is that no one else could be him as well as he does it ... and that is an important thing to remember.

His comment struck a chord in me. Though I'm not sure that anyone else would want the job, it is true that I cannot think of a single person who could be me as well as I have done it all these years. And, while maybe there are a few things that I might do differently if I had it all to do over again, all in all, there is a whole lot that I've done pretty well. And, the exciting part is that I get to keep trying to do it even better, hopefully for a long time yet.

It is not a secret among my close friends (maybe even for acquaintances, I don't know), that I can sometimes be overly self-reflective. I am forever going over my choices, actions, and decisions to see where I messed up, how I could have done it better, what I should do differently the next time around. The conversation with my friend has convinced me to give at least equal due to the questions of where I succeeded, what I did well, and how my own brand of being me brought something positive to the equation. 

I am often fond of telling the people whom I love that I wish that they could see themselves through my eyes ... that they could see how delightfully wonderful they are. Usually they begin to argue and start to point out all of the things that my eyes miss. I respond by telling them that they need to cut themselves some slack. My new mission is to see what it might look like if I cut myself that same sort of slack and looked inward with those same eyes. Who knows? I just might end up liking what I see.