Labels

The notion that labels are restricting and limiting to our perception is really nothing new. What surprised me recently was to discover that this truth applies internally as well as socially. I have always hesitated to wear labels because I felt they would imbue an observer with preconceived notions and assumptions about who I am as a person. I did not realize however that I could do the same to myself.
I thought I had a pretty good handle on my self image at least within the confines of my own mind. I figured I could call myself any name in the book, in my own mind and it wouldn't matter because I knew better. Labels don't only apply to the self however, they also include relationships with others and describe how we relate to the environment around us. SO when I found myself referring, in my own mind, to an old friend  as an ex boyfriend (he is both and old friend and an ex) I realized I began responding emotionally with a much more limited range of behavior than I would if I had thought of him as an old friend. In fact applying that label restricted my thinking and awareness to that short period of time that we dated and eliminating the many years that we shared friendship. I realized I was holding back in a way that I wouldn't for a friend. I am pretty gregarious emotionally with friends but with exes, I am like most people a little more cautious about my reputation, I guess you'd call it.

The way we define relationships or the meaning we ascribe to those relationships also changes over time. At a recent social event I witnesses two women, sworn enemies over a mutual attraction years ago, bonding with the familiarity that is bred by shared history. Time heals all wounds and it sure as hell puts things into perspective. Those unforgivable crimes of the heart we perpetrated in our youth eventually become nothing more than a brief chapter in the narrative of our life. Just as our Mothers assured us as we lamented about not having the right clothes or the latest hairstyle,"ten years from now you won't even remember what you were supposed to be wearing, much less care", the labels we assigned to our relationships, much like the ones we were supposed to have on the back pockets of our jeans, have faded from memory. What's left is what we wear now, in the present and if we can wear it well, with style and grace.

© 2010-2013 Nanakoosa’s Place, authored by Jennifer Hazard

I Am My Soul Mate

I have been single for a little over a year now. For me this is an accomplishment. I used to be one of those people who believed that without a partner I was incomplete. That kind of thinking has gotten me into a considerable amount of trouble over the years and has led to missed opportunities for personal and professional growth. It has only been in the last decade or so that I have overcome that belief and have enjoyed periods of singularity and yes, even celibacy.

2011 was a challenging year for my hard won sense of self sufficiency. I had been through two relationships within a year. The first ended when my partner relocated for employment. Actually it ended shortly after he relocated, as we did make a brief effort at the long distance relationship. It was a half hearted effort on both our parts I think, almost a gesture of politeness or respect for one another or of the very ideal of enduring love.

Once that ended, civilly, I decided for about the thousandth time that love was a lovely ideal but most likely not something that was destined for me. I had a lousy history with it and so did my parents, although to their credit they did both eventually find partners with whom they have managed to stay happily partnered for 30 years each. So the second relationship was not meant to be taken seriously, in my mind, but I ended up getting hurt in the process anyway. That relationship was short lived and quite dysfunctional and it took me by surprise. Surprise because it had all the elements of some of the relationships I had when I was younger and vulnerable. At the time I met this man I was vulnerable again, not because I had suddenly forgotten the painful lessons I have learned along the way but because I was not yet healed from the loss of a very sweet and comfortable relationship that had too recently ended. It was the proverbial 'rebound romance'. I hate falling for cliches even more than I hate the fact that they exist. Even if it's not true love, it never feels good to be taken advantage of and manipulated.

Once that little fiasco was out of the way I pretty much decided that was it I was done with all this relationship stuff. If I couldn't even manage to come out of a casual relationship unscathed it wasn't worth the effort. I've been comfortable with my decision so far. I loathe dating and the pressure of meeting someone new, trying to decide if they are worth the time and effort of getting to know them better and all that mess. I also rather enjoy living my life by my terms, on my schedule and in my own style.

But once in a while I miss the companionship of having someone around who is intimately a part of my daily life. I miss having that person that I can bounce ideas off, share my thoughts and feelings and just Be with. I miss the level of companionship that evolves over time, a settled and comfortable affinity where half the communication that occurs is nonverbal, because you know one another that well.

Maybe not everyone gets to have that, or keep it. Maybe it's a little bit fate and a little bit me. I really don't know.

Most likely this longing will pass and I'll go back to being perfectly content being just me. Usually what happens when I start thinking this way is this: somehow I must emit availability signals indicating that I am single and out of nowhere men start appearing in my life, showing interest in 'getting to know me better'. Then as soon as I get to know them even a little better I realize, or decide, that they are not the person for me. There are always one or two glaring qualities that I just know I could not possibly endure no matter how many other likable characteristics the person might have. Then as quickly and unconsciously as I dropped the shield of detachment I summon it back and become once again, invisible.

Regardless of whether it is me or fate I often wonder about the bit of wisdom that says only when you really love and accept yourself are you ready to love someone else. Eliminating the perceived need for a partner certainly reduces the chance of settling for someone who is not right for you, or even healthy for you, that much is true. But I think many of us have come to regard the 'love yourself' ideal as a kind of magic spell or lucky charm, believing that once we achieve that state balance will be restored to the Universe and we will be granted the wish of True Love.

But maybe the joke is on us, after all the years of trying to achieve that blissful state of self acceptance all the while secretly harboring the hope that we will unlock the magic to finding our soul mate, that we discover we really only needed ourselves after all.

© 2010-2012 Nanakoosa’s Place, authored by Jennifer Hazard

Defining Prosperity

Prosperity is not a bad word. Nor is it what we are told to believe it is, regardless of our ethical or moral beliefs about prosperity.
Prosperity can be a thriving environment, a healthy physical body, a clear mind. It can be the wealth of friendships, loved ones, family, pets. Prosperity can be good food and nutrition, access to a lifestyle that maintains a healthy mind and body. A prosperous lifestyle heals the earth, nurtures relationships and practices respect for living beings. Prosperity can be the joy that is born of the company of another. Prosperity is the sense of satisfaction and pride in knowing you have contributed something to the well being of the planet or another person.
Prosperity is Joy, and it is Love and Respect and Well Being.
It is not a plastic card, or a green piece of paper or a material item that was purchased in order to boost one's status. It is not external thing that will fill a void, but rahter it is the courage to look within the void and to find your own Truth beyond the darkness.
© 2010-2012 Nanakoosa’s Place, authored by Jennifer Hazard

The Question of Commitment

Courtesy of the Graphics Fairy

In some not so recent years the pop culture discussion on the battle of the sexes and relationships was obsessed with the general unwillingness of the average male to commit.  Phrases like "the peter pan syndrome" were all part of this Urban Legend that in the world of dating and romance women were far more interested in finding a mate for life whereas men, it seemed, were primarily concerned with the excitement of the chase and proving their sexual prowess by bedding as many women as possible.
As old fashioned as these notions sound, it would seem they have persisted into the 21st century. Or at least it would seem so to anyone who relies on popular magazines, romantic comedies and pop psychology as a source of reliable information.
I'm not one of those people and frankly I don't even know many of those people well enough to discern whether or not they believe this rubbish. I am a bit curious though. Having grown up in the 60's I watched my Mother and her peers challenge the notion that a Woman attending college was not simply trying to gain the fabled "Mrs. degree", but was instead actually endeavoring to cultivate a career.
As a side note for those of you not familiar with the term "Mrs Degree", it implied that a woman could better herself by attending college, generally gaining a degree in Liberal Arts, with the end result of becoming cultured and well read enough to be considered proper marrying material for a man of intelligence and power. Being armed with a fair amount of interesting but generally useless knowledge would enable a woman to maintain reasonably intelligent conversation the the cocktail parties she would throw for her husband and his colleagues. She and other housewives of similar class and background could commiserate about 18th century literature as they prepared hors d'ourves and desserts and dutifully attended to their spouses whims and desires. Hell, maybe they could even form a book club and talk about their vaginas if they were really liberated. Ultimately however, the supreme goal was to land a husband who was able to provide a steady income, healthy children and a few nice material goods to enhance the suburban ranch house.
But anyway, back to the future or the present. I recently had one of those moments of self realization in which I discovered that I, myself, am commitment phobic. As this thunderbolt of insight struck I was prompted to mentally review my past relationships (the fact that there have been many should indicate that this so called epiphany was nothing more than neglected territory) This was not so much an"ah-ha" moment, as it was a "well duh" moment. I realized that with a few exceptions (mostly in my younger more idealistic years) I generally tended to go with the flow in my relationships as opposed to actually planning some sort of future. I did actually get married, once, and that was because I was pregnant and despite my initial instinct to hop a Greyhound and raise my child alone I felt the father had a right to know that his supposedly non-fertile sperm had indeed swum it's way home and into the heart of one of my more willing ova. I told him because I felt it was the Right Thing to Do. I also figured he'd be the one to bail on the situation and therefore save me the bus fare and trouble of relocating. My ability to predict my mates reaction, as usual, proved ineffective. He asked me to marry him and against my better judgement and after considerable internal debate and rationalization I agreed. The idea actually kind of grew on me and I sincerely did want a nice stable normal life for my child. Problem was daddy seed belonged to one of the most unstable and less than normal people I've ever met (which was, of course what attracted him to me in the first place)
My second most valiant attempt at a relationship with the possibility of some sort of future, possibly an entire lifetime together, was with the father of my younger two children. We actually planned our pregnancy and he had picked up the role of father to my first born where biological dad had pretty seriously fumbled the ball. In fact he fouled out of the entire game.
My relationship with Dad number two was for the most part the closest I ever came to a sustainable, healthy and long term relationship. We discussed the idea of marriage, again he was more into the idea than I was, and quickly dismissed it as unnecessary, too costly and too complicated as it would involve awkward meetings of blended alcoholic families on both sides.
It lasted about 7 years until I admittedly, sabotaged the whole thing.
To this day I can't explain, even to myself, why I was hell bent on destructing the life we had. Most of the time I was pretty happy. To this day I often recount those years as the best years of my life. The Earth Mother Years.
I don't know why I walked away. There are some things about my choice that I do regret in a way. My children certainly would have suffered less. I would most likely be far more economically stable. A lot of things would have turned out differently. But they didn't.
So here I am now, 53 years old, single and pretty happy with that status for the most part. I can't help but wonder if I will be this way forever. Is this it? If I do find that 'right person' will I finally decide to make a commitment, to stay?
I'm more mature, a little more wise and much less restless. Would that make a difference?
I'm not actively looking to have these questions answered. I don't believe that people find their perfect partner by actively looking for them. It happens or it doesn't.
 Either way I think I'll be okay, and I do have that MS degree to fall back on.

Image courtesy of the fabulous Graphics Fairy http://graphicsfairy.blogspot.com/
© 2010-2012 Nanakoosa’s Place, authored by Jennifer Hazard

In between the extremes of 'turn the other cheek' and 'an eye for an eye' lies a world of possibility. Much of that territory is Education. Not just formal education but seizing upon teachable moments to present a fresh perspective and to infuse compassion into a volatile situation. For ourselves,there is the opportunity for  lessons in authenticity, the chance to practice and be who we really are in the core of our True Self. For those of us who have a history of having been victimized or dis-empowered, situations involving conflict or mistreatment (no matter how slight) can trigger very immediate reactions that arise from a place of self defense. From that position we are behind a false front, a suit of armor which obscures our authentic self from the rest of the world. It becomes a blockade through which no true human interaction can pass, in or out, and the opportunities are lost. We percieve a careless word, a dismissive comment or even a misunderstanding as a personal attack. Taking on the feelings of other people, especially the negative is most likely due to our hightenend state of self preservation. It's not that we want to own the world's problems as it may appear at times. It's actually quite the opposite, we dread being the receptacle for someone else's bad day the dumping point for other's anger.
 Anyone who done time an an abusive relationship will tell you that the "blame game" a crucial element of the dynamic. The abuser will not take responsibility for their actions, can you blame them? Who wants to be a jerk? No one is really proud of it, so naturally they shift the blame to the victim. As we learn to play the game, we develop all sort of tricks of our own to throw into the mix. Because the game is usually high stakes, at least emotionally, we often draw our reactions from extreme ends of the spectrum; we either withdraw and forgive or we return the attack with more venom increasing the potential for violence but armed with a sense of self righteousness. If we do become "clever enough to find a middle road, it is often a muddled combination of the two extremes resulting the the most odious of all behaviors, the passive-aggressive reaction. We may pretend to forgive for example, but do so in such a way that is so self deprecating that it practically begs for continued conflict. The role we play and the moves we make within the complicated and ever changing rules of the game of an abusive relationship are well documented and discussed in many books and studies; what I'm here to address is the far reaching after effects that bleed over into our lives sometimes even years after ending an abusive relationship.
I've noticed, in my own experience, that even if I'm generally doing pretty well in my relationships with others there are events and people that can easily trigger those old responses. For me the devastating duo are stressful external circumstances where I feel I have no control, and people (usually authority figures) who interact in a manner that feels cold and detached. You know, the medical personnel who identifies you by the illness or injury you are been treated for, "we've got pneumonia in room 306" or the service provider to whom you are case number 45361.  Unfortunately crisis situations, category number one, often brings us into contact with category two. These are the times I personally am most at risk for becoming either a doormat or a viper depending on my mood and energy level at the time.
These are the times that I have to remind myself that if I want to have sense of personal power over the situation the only thing I really do have any control of is how I choose to respond. If I am being treated in a way I feel is disrespectful or dehumanizing, I have the ability and the right to address the person who is causing the perceived injury. If I am to come out of this scenario with any sense of success it is up to me to be mindful in my words and actions.
So here's an example of a recent event where I was able to catch myself and walk my talk.
Last week was one of those weeks where it seemed everything was going wrong. I had a problem with my bank account due to an auto bill pay that I had authorized long ago and forgotten, my computer was on the fritz, I was having issues with my cel phone provider and then...my Dad passed away. Basically a shit storm of powerlessness. Putting things into perspective obviously some things are more significant than others and Dad's passing was by far the biggie. Death however is after all an inevitable part of life, overdraft fees, not so much. I managed to solve all of the mundane issues while also passing through various stages of grieving my father (of course that's all still going on but that's another story). The clincher came when I realized I was going to have to visit the food pantry for the second month in a row. That in itself was not such a big deal but I needed to cram the visit into a very busy schedule. Where I live there is a "Community Service Hotline" where clients can call to get information about the dates and times of availability of food pantries and other services. I wasn't certain of the times so I called the number to double check.The operator who answered the phone may have been having a bad day or maybe he just doesn't posses proper phone etiquette and I may never know the answer to that. What I do know is he picked the wrong day to tell me, very icily, that according to their records I'd already visited the pantry within a 30 day period and that I couldn't go there again for another week. Now according to the cheat sheet in front of him this may have been the instructions he was told to provide, but I know from experience that particular pantry allows people to come every two weeks, and  I told him that all I really needed was the hours of operation. He actually refused to give me the information, based on his belief that I was somehow breaking the rules. I tried reasoning with him telling him that I wasn't going to argue the rules I simply wanted to know what time they open, and he became more determined to not tell me. The phone call ended rather abruptly when I asked to be transferred to a supervisor and was put on 'hold' i.e. disconnected.
So at his point I was beyond "triggered" I was loaded, cocked and ready to fire at anything that crossed my path. I was also in tears. Everything hit me at once and it was my grief that saved me. All I'd really wanted was a little compassion. I thought about that for a bit, and after running through the first scenarios that came to mind, the victim card, the righteous indignant card the passive-aggressive 'let me speak to your manager and get you into trouble ' card it occurred to me that none of those were real, they were all just moves in a game that I no longer play. If I want real that I have to be real. I took some deep breaths, I got real and I called the hotline back. The same operator answered. I took another deep breath and told him calmly how I felt, in the moment; no extra information, no long stories, I simply let him know that his manner of speaking had made me feel less than deserving, less than human. I told him that while I understood that maybe he was having a bad day that his job involves interacting with people who are in need and that people in need tend to be vulnerable. I asked for no apology or explanation, I simply asked that in the future he would remember that on the other end of the phone was a real person with real needs and real feelings. Then I wished him a pleasant day, hung up and let it go.
I really sincerely do hope that the next time he has a crappy day that he can envision a real person on the other side of the phone. I hope that no one else has to be made to feel less than human because he has to "follow the rules" without question. I hope we can all remember, when were having a shitty day that our bad moods are fleeting and temporary but that the words we say and how we say them can send ripples through time. Maybe our teachable moment will bring something of value to someone else, maybe not.  If we can be honest with ourselves the words we put out there will be authentic and the ripples they send will be the vibration of our true Being and that, my friends, is the gift of Life.
© 2010-2012 Nanakoosa’s Place, authored by Jennifer Hazard