Relationships

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Back when I met Rudy, in the early 80’s, it was simply a happenstance. A moment in time where we both were in the same place, at the same time. Nothing planned, just what many may define as meant to be. And to confirm that belief, all I can say is that we met at a tupperware party. Generally, a party for women. Women who’d sit around, socialize, and admire all the sturdy plastic food-saver containers.

At that point in my life, I was still living at home and had no need for such well-made items but I did want to hang out with my good friend who was the invitee to the party. Rudy, on the other hand, and a friend, were asked by the friend’s sister if they’d like to go to a party. Just that, a party. Not, you know, Par-tay! But he misunderstood. “Sure,” Rudy said, imagining all the crazy-dance-like-there’s-no-tomorrow-let’s-have-another-drink fun that’d be happening.

And, the rest is history, so says just about everyone.

Flash forward to 2016.

A conversation ensued with my son, him claiming it’s so difficult to meet anyone, anywhere.

“Not so,” I responded.

“Oh, Mom, I know, I know, you and Dad have the story of the century. You met, you dated, fell in love, married… blah, blah, blah.”

“I’m just saying that it does happen as simple as that.”

“Not these days. That’s why people are always searching on sites for dating, looking for compatibility and companionship because it isn’t simple.”

Sigh.

Later, I noticed his focus was solely on his phone. He laughed, said things like “Holy Shit!”, and seemed to be texting, whoever.

And it dawned on me, right then and there. The reason this new generation is having such a hard time meeting each other is that their faces are always in their phones. I see it all the time, everywhere. Two friends sitting next to each other, texting instead of talking. A girl not realizing a guy is smiling at her, a guy who could have been her future mate. Two people, on vacation, not truly enjoying the view because they’re searching for the perfect picture to share with their followers. Because, you know, a picture is worth a thousand words. And a conversation is well, just that, a conversation.

All I’ve got to say about relationship building is Drop the phone, people, Drop the phone.

Watch This. Listen, too.

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I seriously love to people-watch. I am enthralled with the social aspect of human nature.

Every avenue of relationships pique my interest. I am oh-so curious how people, all kinds of people, everywhere, all over the place, in various situations react to this, that, and the other.

I like to dig deep into what is happening, simply by watching. Watching. Watching. Watching. And listening. Trying to decipher what is really going on. Deep. Down. Below. The. Surface.

I wonder, quite often, what would I do without people. People all around. People adding a dimension to my life that deepens my feelings toward the world at large.

Be True to Yourself

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I get it, I do. In this day and age, in order to be considered cool, you need to be hip with what’s going on around you, and even more so, follow the trends out there. Whatever they are.

Just be careful, though, that the outside appearance you possess doesn’t interfere with your inner true self. The uniqueness you possess. The confidence you behold. The curiosity you cause.

Always maintain who you truly are. An original you. Possessing a demeanor that’s very personal, and uniquely yours. Living your life, finding your dreams, and feeling your happiness.

Recently, I listened to someone talk about how original they are, how no one is like them. Later, I logged onto Instagram™ only to be bombarded by photos depicting the same originality, claiming that no one is like them (either). They all looked the same. So cool. So hip. So like the latest trend.

Well, I can only hope that they each think, and feel, as individuals, true in their own thoughts, pursuing a life as individual as they are.

Yet.

It is what it is. I understand. We all want to fit in. Know what’s what. Participate in life, similarly to everyone else. Feel part of the crowd.

Be careful, though, because that’s where your true self can get lost. Lost in the crowd. You are no longer unique, but rather you’ve become just like everyone.

Unless. You uphold the value of Be True to Yourself. Then. That’s when. You will truly feel fulfilled.

Positivity

Positivity

It’s not always easy being positive, thinking the good thoughts, believing everything will be fine.

Like anyone, I can fill my head with what’s not right, with a fuck-this-shit attitude.

But.

For me.

It’s worth the simple effort it takes to get to that place, the place in my mind where everything feels serene.

Yay! for me.

I have been gifted a natural ability to move-on, get over it, think positive, hone in on what’s important, and find peace.

Simply. Quickly.

And I can do this, feel positive, faster, way faster, than I fall prey to negativity.

For me, for anyone, for all of us, the reality is that the value of life is what matters, not who is right, who is wrong, or who wins.

“The purpose of our lives is to be happy.” Dalai Lama

“come on people now, smile on your brother, everybody get together, try to love one another right now”

Rock Band "Youngbloods"When the kids were younger, and for whatever reason, when some kind of disagreement pursued between them, or I was trying to explain the beauty of accepting others for who they are, I’d sing, a small portion of the Youngblood’s song Get Together,  “Come on people now, smile on your brother, everybody get together, try to love one another right now”. At some point one of the kids, probably Liz, asked if I had made the song up. “Of course!” I responded, as I continued to sing the same words over and over. And because they were young, they thought it was so cool, not really thinking about the fact I never sang any other words aside from the eighteen I repeated over and over until I had had enough.

I love those words, the combination of them. They tell a lot, say so much in such a small bundle of feelings. Truly, everybody, let’s do it, let’s get together, and love one another. Why not? It couldn’t hurt and I bet good things will come of it. Am I right? I’m right.

As the kids got a bit older, and I was, once again, singing, loud, proud, and feel-good happy both Liz and Roberto looked at me. And smiled. One of them, probably Roberto, agreed by Liz, said, “Mom. You are talented. That song is so good!” I laughed, said “Thanks,” and wanted to fall into the tune, to feel the peacefulness of it, but I couldn’t, not yet, not until I told them the truth.

“Okay. I have to be straight-up with you. Because, after-all, I am building trusting, honest relationships with you…..” I rambled on.

They stared at me. Confused. And Brad? Well, he was sitting in the back, tucked into his wee carseat, oblivious to our conversation.

“I didn’t make the song up. It’s not mine. I just love it so.” I smirked. They laughed.

“Oh, wow! I wondered how you could make up something so cool,” Liz admonished. She did a belly-roll, laughing until her sides hurt.

“Come on people now, smile on your brother, everybody get together, try to love one another right now” Roberto sang, in-between spurts of laughter.

That was a simple moment in our life, a building of community and genuine good will. A moment that set the standard for the beliefs that we have always held dear. Smile on your brother. Get together. Love one another. Right now.

#instyle

SAMSUNG DIGITAL CAMERAHave you ever wondered where you get your sense of style from and why you choose to dress the way you do? As of today, after reading a piece – Women & Clothes. Discuss. – in September’s issue of Glamour, I found myself considering my own personal style.

Suddenly my thoughts raced back in time.

In my mind’s image, I see four young kids. Me, the only girl, and three of my brothers, two older and one younger, looking like quadruplets. Each of us had some version of long, blond hair, angular faces and blue eyes. But the best part of that image is that the four of us were wearing blue jeans and white t-shirts.

As that youthful tomboy, I wasn’t thinking about style. I just wanted something to wear that was functional while I crawled in the dirt, navigating my way through nature-made tunnels in the local park. Or, when, on hot summer days, I’d drop down onto my hands and knees, dirtying my clothes, when inspecting trapdoor spiders.

Without realizing it then or for many years thereafter, it was those no-nonsense blue jean days that had determined the way I choose to dress.

When I became a mom and started dressing Liz, my daughter, I began incorporating the concept of layering cotton shirts and blouses, not only for her, but for myself also, giving our outfits a more creative look. While she was dressed up in layers of colorful concoctions mixed with her personal style of pretty headbands and interesting necklaces, I preferred, and still do, simple layering of two or three different pieces of clothing over my jeans. Different colors. Different prints. As Liz grew, adapting her own style, she too maintained the layered look, only she preferred to add a touch of interest by using unique accessories and standout stylish shoes.

The clothing I wear, the clothing we all wear, tells our story. Mine is that I am a simple person, a person who lives one day at a time, not taking anything for granted, instead living, as best as I can, a positive, carefree, no-nonsense life style.

And so it is, today, the here and now, that when asked where I get my style from, not only does it come from my youth, being a tomboy, from the simplistic look of jeans and a t-shirt, but I also look to Liz, who has perfected a style that I adore, a style that is all the rage, a style I will continue to wear regardless of a season’s must-do, or don’t.

tea and toast

IMG_4756When I was younger, I remember whenever I didn’t feel well, was sick in bed without the want to get up, with the blankets wrapped tightly around my sore noggin, and generally lacking the desire to eat, my mom, and sometimes my sister, would offer me a cup of hot tea and some buttered toast to soothe and nourish my aches and pains.

I loved those moments. Well, yeah, sans the sick part, of course, but everything about the love that came with the tea and toast. A gesture that held an abundance of meaning. One that I carried with me throughout my days, held onto to it, knowing that some day I’d get the chance to Pay It Forward.

One day Rudy and I met. A month or so later we were dating, in a very serious way. Within weeks, he was uncharacteristically ill. He had called me to say he wouldn’t be able to go out that evening. I told him I’d be right over. I found him stretched out on the couch he shared with his roommates. His dark-skinned cheeks were blushing from a fever. And he had no energy to move. I watered down a wash cloth with cold water, folded it onto his forehead, cooled him down.

And then. I made him a cup of tea and a slice of buttered toast.

He didn’t drink or eat my offerings, only because he really just wanted to sleep. And sleep he did. I waited until he woke again then made a fresh cup of tea and a new slice of buttered toast. “Thanks,” he whispered, his voice sounding hoarse.

Years later, when I was feeling out-of-sorts, Rudy walked into the bedroom, bringing in a cup of tea and buttered toast. “Paying it Forward,” he smiled.

I’m an Introvert.

IMG_5263There’s an article going around on Facebook, you know the kind that always have a number in the title, like this one, 23 Signs You’re Secretly An Introvert by Carolyn Gregoire | The Huffington Post.

Well now, I zoomed right in, only to confirm what I already knew. I’m an introvert. And it’s no secret, unless of course you don’t know me, then well, maybe it is a secret, by default.

The article basically explains to the reader how to spot an introvert, that they aren’t always so obvious, and it even goes on to say how an introvert may not know they are indeed introverted. So here I sit, wondering, How is it that someone who’s shy, or withdrawn, or engaging with an inner hidden feeling of anxiety due to socializing, doesn’t know they are an introvert? I am guessing here, that the first ones to read such an article do so because it relates to them. Meaning, an introvert reads this article because it’s fun to read what they already know. Everyone enjoys things that pertain to them, personally. Right?

I’ve known forever, or at least as long as I began socializing, that I am an introvert. In my younger years, I was very uncomfortable with the prospect of being in situations with groups of people. Rather than engaging, I stood back worrying what everyone else was thinking and anxious about joining in. But as the years have passed, and though I still consider myself drawn-in, I socialize, hold conversations, and am overall content around others. Yet, rather than trying to be a person I’m not, someone others would probably feel more comfortable around, I have embraced my listening skills, rather than trying to overuse my voice. I now understand it’s okay to speak when I feel like it, rather than talking because others expect me to.

As a child, almost all my teachers told my parents I was too quiet, that I needed to participate more (that’s probably when I began to feel I wasn’t as awesome as everyone else seemed to be). And because of that, as a teacher of young kids, I never tell a student he or she needs to ‘come out of their shell’. They will discover their own voice, in their own time.

I remember being invited to a birthday party when I was about 10 years old. It was a sleep over, my first. And even though it should have been an exciting time, it actually brought out a tremendous amount of anxiety. Having to socialize and talk nonstop, tell secrets and giggle, was way too difficult for me. I never wanted to participate in that kind of gathering again. And I don’t think I ever did. Now, take me back to that time, but with the grown-up me, the person who now understands who I am, what I have to offer. I would have made the most of being an emotionally in-tune person. Also, time and again, it seems so many people are striving for what I, and many introverts, possess. Simply, quiet calmness. Someone who is balanced. A person who can interact with others when deemed necessary, even if it’s not always easy, but who is also comfortable being alone.

I suppose the article is simply bringing an introverts traits into the limelight, to our attention, so that we – well, not me – can be sure to understand the personalities of the quiet, or not so quiet, ones; the obvious introverts and the hidden kind, and make sure they are not overlooked but rather included, graciously.

He Caught Me. Cheating.

IMG_2090Rudy has been, for the past year or so, questioning himself. Wondering if there is any meaning behind the fact he can’t just seem to find a job, in his field of expertise, or anywhere else. With every phone call about his resumé, listing his superior qualifications, to the several interviews, leading nowhere, he’s gone from a high of believing he can do anything to a low feeling he can’t.

People occasionally ask me how I am dealing with his situation, without much complaint. The thing is, I do complain, if that’s what you want to call it, to him, where my words should be aimed. I don’t talk in a way that makes things worse, rather I express how I am feeling, hoping he’ll understand that we are both affected by his lack of participation, in life. His desire to succeed has diminished. He’s frustrated, angry, and overall disappointed in himself. I handle it by looking beyond what I actually, physically see and go deep, observing what is not so apparent. Taking clues from what’s not being said.

The other day, Rudy and I were in the kitchen, talking, but not really, when he needed to tell me about a dream he’d had.

In the dream, he began, I saw you, hanging all over some young guy, your arms wrapped around him, and you were laughing, having fun. I never could see the guy you were with. He was so young, but you were you, the age you are now. 

As I was listening to his tale, trying to understand his reason for telling me his love affair dream, his knees suddenly gave out. He began to breathe rapidly and his eyes widened liked someone experiencing a traumatic, unexpected moment. He grabbed a chair, sat, and lowered his head between his shaking knees. He seemed lost, unsure. I thought for sure he was going to faint, so I walked over to him, coaxed him into a sitting position, cupped my hands on both sides of his face, and gently told him to breathe.

Slowly, I told him. Slow down. Breathe in. Breathe out. Slow.

I wanted to calm him, soothe him, let him know everything was okay. But, also, inside my mind, behind all my kind words I wondered who the heck I had an affair with that caused Rudy so much turmoil. Once his breathing was, again, under control, he looked at me with eyes full of sadness, a kind of heartbreak I had never seen before.

The guy, he continued, never looked in my direction, and when I asked you what you were doing you shouted at me ‘That’s your problem, not mine!’ and that’s when the young guy finally looked my way, looked right at me. And I couldn’t believe who he was.

Again, Rudy cried, smashed his palms into his eye sockets. I stooped, rested my hands on his thighs, and waited for him to tell me more.

It was me! he shouted. It was my 21 year old self! You were having an affair with me!

Tears once again filled his eyes, reflecting the overhead lights, before splashing down his cheeks.

You? It was you? I asked, just to confirm.

Yes. Me. When I was probably only 21. When we first met. You were you, your age now, and you were cheating with me, but a young me, he answered.

That’s pretty intense, I told him.

All that I could think about was the symbolism within the dream. How it was full of meaning. His internal story. But, I didn’t say anything. I remained quiet, wondering what he thought about it. Yet, Rudy couldn’t control his crying. His blubbering. As if he realized the dream was trying to tell him something. I embraced him. Held him tight. Knowing this may be a breakthrough. A turning point. A new beginning.

And then he spoke. It means you miss the young guy I was, he told me. That I have left that not-a-care-in-the-world kind of guy, the ambitious one behind and have forgotten about him. And that is what you are seeking. The real me.

I do miss him, I honestly said, the person I met all those years ago. The guy I’ve grown up with. But, I needed to add, just so we’re clear here, if I was going to cheat, it’d be with you.

I laughed, but it was his smile that brightened the room.