Posts Tagged ‘Love’
Clean Up
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“What do you mean I have to put away all my toys because company is coming?”
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Twas the day before Thanksgiving, and all through the house… Yeah, we’re cleanin.’ And cooking!
Cyndie read somewhere that you should give your dog a new toy every few days, or at least, rotate them out of service for a while as new ones are introduced. I know how this works. We raised kids. Delilah would just as likely play with a stick or a leaf and be fascinated for an hour. She would just as happily devour the cardboard backing a new chew toy had been mounted to, instead of the toy itself. Ice cubes are a current fascination. But it seems everyday I discover a new colorful device in our house that pet scientists of the world have devised to keep our dog intellectually challenged.
I’d like to meet the marketing genius who wrote that article Cyndie read, …and congratulate him.
“Don’t forget to clean up after the horses in the paddocks!”
Yes, dear. I should just let Delilah eat it all. With a dog’s sense of smell a gazillion times better than humans, you’d think manure would smell something awful to them. So, why the need to taste it at every encounter? The horses, deer, raccoons… She doesn’t discriminate.
I sure hope it won’t be too sunny tomorrow. I don’t think we’ll get around to washing windows before guests arrive.
If you are traveling today, be careful out there! We hope everyone in the States reading along will have a chance this holiday-extended-weekend to gather with others, sit down to a meal together, and bask in the valuable energy of being thankful. If you notice your hosts missed a spot when they were cleaning for guests, be sure to cut them some slack. Especially if they have been trying to live with a great big puppy and two frustrated house cats for the last two months.
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Just Know
This deserves to be a blog post. The question posed was about how to stay positive despite the scary amount of negativity in the world. Far be it from me to come up with a concise reply.
I knew how to answer it for myself, but I had to think a moment, about how to communicate my process to another person. It was a wandering explanation, as each insight I explored seemed to spawn another that deserved mention.
What came to me right at the start was that having a positive disposition isn’t something that I do, it has become something that I know. The rest of my rambling response was an attempt to provide enough background to give the words more weight than just a routine platitude. It doesn’t seem logical to me to offer advice along the lines of just needing to “know” that things are not as bad as they appear to be. On the other hand, does it suffice for me to proclaim that they simply need to live through enough experiences to gather the insights I have acquired?
I don’t think I can reclaim everything I came up with at the time, but the simplified version of why I know things are not as bad as it seems is this:
I have overcome a history of depression. I have mended a dysfunctional relationship with my wife. I have almost completely eliminated my exposure to commercial broadcast media. That alone, probably makes the biggest difference on the amount of unwelcome news and energy that was previously bombarding me.
I have become aware of energy that we emanate and absorb. This one isn’t as ‘out there’ as may appear to some people. Science has proven that emotions are contagious. It is easy to notice that a depressed person in the room can bring people down, an angry person will spread bad feelings, and a happy and pleasant individual can lift the spirits of those with whom they interact. I have witnessed the impressive distance our electromagnetic heart field energy radiates, during my time working with horses in Arizona when I joined Cyndie for the conclusion of her apprenticeship training.
Our energy is a powerful force. We should arm it with something positive and profound. I have always felt in my core that love was the vital component of all human interaction. We know to “love thy neighbor” and many of us believe we should love our enemies. I believe love is the way to heal, to bring peace, to raise healthy individuals, and, radiated in advance, to engender best possible interactions with others. Let love be the primary vibe riding on your projected energy field and you shower all in your vicinity with good will.
All of these things combined, provide a sense of knowing, despite all that seems wrong in the world –and think about it, people have been predicting that the ills of the world indicate ‘the end is near’ for eons– we hold unbelievable power for good with our love that can blossom if we alter our focus from all that is wrong, dwell on all that is right, and develop our skills to radiate healthy love in every direction. It magnifies. Love begets more love.
Try it. You can’t help but have a positive disposition when you put your attention to it!
June Four
On the occasion of Cyndie’s birthday today, she offered to do a guest post for me, while I finished a project that predictably, once again, took me past my bedtime last night. Here is a creation from the love of my life! It feels like it’s a present to me! (After she sent it, she told me she should have written, “weed whacker” instead of “hedge trimmer” …I brought home a battery operated trimmer that has nylon line as the cutter, for her to play with [and use to clean up any spots that may have been missed when mowing by the meandering wanderer method she tends to employ.])
Invention Needed
It’s funny how easy it can be to live separated from my wife, for varying spans of time, and then, suddenly, it becomes overwhelmingly burdensome.
One thing I noticed this week, that seems to have dragged my spirit down, is a brief call from Cyndie that announced the end of the workshop she had been at; one which had put her out of contact with me over the weekend.
Actually, that doesn’t read right. It wasn’t that phone call that brought me down. That call was incredibly energizing. I knew she would be flying back to Boston that day and I was really hoping she would call. I was absolutely thrilled to receive it and hear her joyful voice, filled with a vibrant sparkle created by her experience at Linda Kohanov’s place in Arizona.
The problem was, it was just a brief check-in to let me know she had safely arrived in Boston. We both had things going on that evening and so we hoped to catch each other later.
It didn’t happen.
Now another day has passed and I expect that she is deeply entrenched in the heavy grind and long hours that is the reality of her work in Boston.
I think the situation that has created my current pouting is that all-too-brief moment of bliss, when I heard her voice, which brought my excitement up, followed by the dashed hopes for more of the same, because the night ended without our connecting.
The higher the high, the lower the low.
Her absence in the days following create a weight on my shoulders. Each successive task seems increasingly onerous. I become less and less interested in the options I have before me, because none of them involve talking with my wife.
I like living alone. It’s just that I’d like to live alone and live with my wife at the same time.
I don’t think they’ve invented that yet.
On Again
What a difference a day can make. What a difference a text message can make! Long after I had fallen asleep, around 12:30 a.m. my time, the buzzing of an incoming text message on my phone, woke me. Obviously my concern had gotten through to my wife, as the first words were, “I’m OK.”
She’s alive! What a relief. I was really growing more and more stressed by the silence that was following my attempts to check in.
I still don’t understand the logistics of a day that doesn’t allow one moment for a simple acknowledgement to your spouse (let alone multiple days in a row), but her report was of overwhelming responsibilities and meetings all day, then working into the nights. For all the ‘grumping’ I have been known to do about my day-job, I am finding more and more to appreciate about how easy I have it, in comparison to the undertaking Cyndie has gotten herself into.
Early on, in the days before she had even left home for this new job, I was prone to comparing the upcoming separation to what military couples endure. It was meant to be hyperbole, but now that she is well into the battles of her job, I am gaining ever more insight into the suffering that military families experience when they are not able to communicate with each other for long spans of time.
My current goal is to find a better way to show support, by way of somehow not fretting her inability to stay in contact with me. Yesterday, on the still-fresh rush of having received her middle-of-the-night message, I found myself inspired to send two different love-note texts that were 100% free of any expectation of a reply. The first day is easy. Let’s see how I’m doing after a few days.
There is a real trick to turning a relationship on and off, and quite honestly, I’m not that good at it. If I am in the “on” mode, I want to have interaction. I have written before about my ability at moving into the “off” mode of relating, which thrives in having zero interaction. I am able to do that too well, and have no problem shutting down, but it is difficult for me to seamlessly flow from “off” back to “on” again. My “off” mode is an unhealthy place to be. Unfortunately, it is where I want to go to fend off familiar hurts. I want to retreat behind my emotional shield.
This is my opportunity to exercise a love that gives without expectation of reciprocation.
Random Thoughts
Can it be called stalking if you are married?
Funny or fantastic things are funnier or more fantastic when you have someone to share them with.
Why won’t she answer?
Jigsaw puzzles become incredibly more difficult to assemble after eyesight no longer focuses short distances.
Back in the 1800s, when February temperatures climbed 20° above freezing in this area, did people worry about global warming?
I wonder if Bradying will become the craze that Tebowing was.
How many text messages is too many when not receiving a reply?
How much can you tell about a person from what they wonder about?
Do drivers who don’t use turn signals to indicate their plan to turn ever get bugged by drivers in front of them who don’t use turn signals?
Is it possible to discern what the last thought is before falling asleep?
How do I know when its just a thought, and not the first dream of my night’s sleep?
Some men would love to have 4-days of the silent treatment from their wives.
Is there an age limit for having imaginary friends?
Was it possible to misspell things when taking dictation using “shorthand?”
What makes a person suddenly think of “shorthand” when they haven’t had a thought about it in decades?
If you don’t think about something, are you less inclined to miss it?
Random doesn’t mean there won’t be a theme.
If you don’t have anything nice to think, don’t think anything at all.
Two can play at this game.
If two are playing this game, how would you know they are both playing?
Why won’t she answer my calls?
Tolerable Suffering
Now that my routine has returned to a relative normal, post the holidays, I’m going to provide an update on the status of my solo living. Even though it’s been almost 4-months since Cyndie moved east to accept a position with Boston Public Schools, it still feels a bit new. At the same time, it has been long enough to pretty much figure out what works for me. I have been getting my needs met, and am tending to the needs of the household. With only one person messing up the place, shouldn’t I be able to sweep the kitchen half as often? It does not appear to be the case.
For the most part, I am taking advantage of having groceries delivered to the house. I do my food shopping online. Thus far, I am happy with my ability to avoid relying too heavily on restaurants for my sustenance. In fact, I think I am eating out less than when Cyndie was home. Since I don’t automatically have a companion, that seems like a logical outcome to me. I expect it might be different if I was inclined to eat out alone.
The real staple has turned out to be soup from my good friend and fellow Himalayan trekker, Chef Pam Knutson. I buy soup through her Birdsong Soups business out of the Kitchen in the Market facility. I get a quart each week that her husband, John, generously brings to his work in Eden Prairie where I can conveniently pick it up. This has been providing about 4 different meals a week for me. I don’t think I will be able to eat soup out of a can ever again after this experience. What a treat! This is gourmet level eating that seems like it would only be available in fine restaurants, and I have it in my own kitchen! I highly recommend you check out this community supported soup business, Birdsong Soups.
I have also become just a bit more social since Cyndie has moved out, hosting a number of gatherings of friends at the house, and going out with others. Part of that is a result of friends offering to step up to help fill the void. Thank you, friends!
The one thing that isn’t working so well is my being able to touch base with my lovely wife with any regularity. All too often, multiple days pass where we fail to speak or even successfully exchange a text message. You’d think a one-hour time difference wouldn’t be a big deal, but I find it does complicate things, or maybe it just seems to, because Cyndie’s work hours have been ridiculously long. I was shocked to be unable to reach her on a Friday night, nor the entire following Saturday, only to find out she was working both times and had unknowingly dropped her phone under the seat of the car they provided for her use.
I figure I should be nurturing a relationship with the security personnel in her building so I can contact them to find out where she is if I want to speak to her. Nothing can really replace the small talk that has been dashed from our relationship. I miss how she would politely listen to me talk like a little kid about the excitement I enjoyed at soccer in the morning. Yesterday I would have whined to her about the owie I got when I sprained a finger playing around with a basketball in the gym before soccer started. Then I would have bragged about the success we had making multiple one-touch passes to score lots of goals, or mentioned that I forgot to use my asthma inhaler before playing and noticed some suffering as a result. Tolerable, but noticeable suffering.
Kind of like the feeling of suddenly living separated from your beloved spouse of 30 years.
A Letter
Dear Cyndie,
The experiment of living in two different cities, 1500 miles apart, is definitely revealing the adage, “You don’t know what you’ve got, till it’s gone.” I am sick with an annoying cold that has turned a night’s sleep into an epic drama, and held me home from work, bed-ridden yesterday.
I am distinctly aware of how, if you were home with me, you would make a special trip, even though I would tell you not to bother, and you would buy a variety of fruit juices and more medications than I could possibly use. You would bring them to my bedside and then cook me eggs or soup to feed me, allowing me to do nothing but rest while you provided every possible comfort.
I know I always thanked you for your tender loving care, but from the vantage point of not having you here to lavish support upon me now, I feel as though I never thanked you enough. You are a true angel.
Love,
John
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We had a great visit on FaceTime this morning where we talked about how the monumental scope of the work she is doing, difficult as it is, seems to align very much with the skill set she has developed, and the many years of experience she has gained. We also reminisced about the earliest years of our relationship, and the many times in which we were separated by thousands of miles, which just might have been creating a foundation for our ability to accomplish this current scenario we find ourselves in.
This is hard, but we think it is the right thing to do. It is something we are both equally interested in successfully accomplishing. I am definitely falling more in love with her as a result her absence from my life, proving one more well-known adage…
Thirty Years
It was thirty years ago today that Cyndie and I were married in a morning outdoor ceremony in a garden on the shore of Lake Minnetonka.
As milestones go, each decade seems to hold particular significance, so this is our third time to realize that phenomenon. Last night I took a little tour through my Life Story item, a journal of sorts, which I share with the members of my online community, Brainstorms. I was looking for images that I recall having posted there.
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Shocking as it is, there is this one:
It was taken after the wedding, in the moments before we departed for the north shore of Lake Superior on our honeymoon. People have asked me if we were legal age to be married. The good news about that youthful countenance is that it has held true to this day. People continue to assume us to be a lot younger than we are.
We have had an amazing run at this relationship thing. Most dramatic for me was the period when, and since, we sought couples counseling to get past a difficult time. It worked wonders for us.
Now we are on the verge of a whole new aspect for our relationship as Cyndie prepares to move to Boston, while I will remain in Minnesota. We are enjoying looking back over the years and both feel prepared for what the future holds.
It is not the same milestone, but this day is significant for our son, Julian, as well. He was born on this day in the year of our 7th anniversary. It has been special to share the date with him all these years. Happy birthday, Julian!
Relative Something 