The Temporary Truth

I wrote a guest post for my friend's blog Love on the Run. She's blogging about her separation and divorce "as it happens." Since I've been through a breakup, I offered her stories of my experience. She told me she likes how honest I am. Read the post here if you’d like (got to love the comments on that post!).

Writing that piece for her blog led me to more that I wanted to write, but did not include in that post. So I thought I’d finish it out here - more on the Temporariness of everything.

One thing I have learned through my own long term relationship and subsequent divorce is seeking security and "forever" in another human being is complete foolishness. It's not fair to the other person to depend on them for your happiness and it is not a mature and conscious way to live…expecting another evolving person to be and stay the same way to make you happy. People need to grow and evolve consciously as individuals. I believe this leads to a lot of relationship failures.

I believe in monogamy but I don't believe in forever. It is a lie, a myth, because even if you do stay with the same person for the rest of your life, death will take one of you first. Feeling this sense of temporariness ensures that I appreciate the person I am with right now so much more. There is no time for complacency, no trap set for taking someone for granted. The relationship is always in a place of gratitude. At least this is what I've found.

Everything is temporary. That is one of the greatest truths.

Smoking

My friend and co-worker JC is a struggling smoker. The kind who really wants to quit, sometimes does for weeks at a time, but ends up smoking again for one reason or another. Several months ago, we established that I had no problem with her smoking while we drive together – my car or her car.

It was only yesterday that I realized why it doesn’t bother me at all, and I rather enjoy the smell of cigarette smoke.

I am not a cigarette smoker. I smoked when I was a kid, from around age 10 to about age 21 when I entered my first relationship. I was never truly addicted to smoking so quitting was a simple choice, strongly recommended by my partner at the time. My biggest struggle about not smoking was drinking coffee. I hadn’t realized that I drank coffee while I smoked, and for a short time I had to give up coffee too.

Both my older brothers smoke, one just once in a while, the other as a gripping habit still unchanged today.

My father did not smoke cigarettes as a habit, but I knew he’d smoked at some point in his life and I always encouraged him to smoke a pipe because I loved the smell of his tobacco. Many of my “daughter” Christmas presents to him were pipes, pipe holders, lighters and the like to support this behavior, but he never stayed with it.

I remember as a child when the whole family ate meals together, we sat at a bar between our kitchen and dining room. My father and two brothers sat across the dining room side of the bar. I sat at the end and my mother sat on the inside, the kitchen side. I have a strong memory of an after meal ritual – I’d finish eating and go sit on my mother's lap. She’d eat her last bites of food holding me, then, after she finished eating, she’d light up a cigarette. She smoked it while I sat in her lap. Sometimes, at breakfast I suppose, she’d have a cup of coffee too.

Cigarettes and coffee are the scent of my mother - of nurturing safety. 

And now that we're feeling all warm and fuzzy about the smell of cigarettes, this is where I’ll mention that both my parents died from lung cancer. I can’t talk about smoking without that bit of information.

Emotions

From a kind and courteous comment made on yesterday’s post comes today’s post.

I have considered taking anti-depressants in the past, but right now, as long as I do not make any life altering decisions or become an undue burden to DP as I go through this, I want to continue without.

In a bizarre way, I’m experimenting with the emotional intensity. Because of some past relationship issues, delving into the depths of my emotions has been a very freeing experience for me. I can explain it at this moment because I’m now beyond the tar pit and can look back at it objectively, understanding I’ll return.

Call me crazy, but I’m engaging in the drama of all this - the mood swings, the blog, the year of yes connections and people’s responses - as part of my own spiritual practice. I used to think because I could “control” (suppress) my emotions, I was being objective about them and therefore in a higher place of consciousness.

It turns out I was dead wrong.

I learned in a difficult way for me and the people surrounding me at the time, that suppressed emotions come out, and control (or lack thereof) is just an egoic story I tell myself.

Today I want to feel those emotions, recognize them (with gentle help from DP when I can’t do it myself) and honor them for what they are – the body’s reaction to a challenge or restriction – decide whether I need to take any action (is there a real decision to be made here, or just the need for a couple of Ibuprophen), make/take it or not, then pull back from the emotion, if I can, as it continues, or just ride it out with at least an awareness of it.

Writing it out this way as a step by step process is very satisfying, but the process doesn't feel like it's "happening" like that. It just kinda does. 


Thank you, Kim for prompting this.

Rotund

Obese is what my ex used to call me. She'd read in a magazine how to measure your height and weight to determine your body mass and declared that I was obese. Apparently this is technically accurate. I'm certainly not a thin almost-fifty-year-old woman, but, at all of 5'3" I am short and likely getting shorter. In my humble estimation since I've never seen the "2" at the front of the three digits of the scale when I step on it, I'm okay - even though I am rotund.

Every time I've considered my weight a problem and sought to lose some of it, I've only gained it back, plus more. If I don't consider myself as having a weight problem and don't struggle with it, I at least stay about the same. I know what needs to be done. Since I’m pretty healthy all I need to do is stop eating as much and move more (using the work “exercise” would be like using the word “diet”).

It could be that simple...but food has aways been my reward.

I cannot seem to get passed that for long periods of time. For my 49^th birthday my gifts included a mouth watering fried food luncheon from Augusta’s premier take-out joint “Red Barn” from the girls at work, a delectable and highly anticipated meal at “Olive Garden” from my partner (referred to as DP for Domestic Partner) which included my favorite dessert tiramisu, and breakfast from my step-daughter at the "Maine Diner.” I won’t even go into all the treats I threw in the grocery cart because it was my birthday week.

Now that birthday week is over, my plan is to cut back on consumption and dance around the house more thanks to my new Loreena McKennitt CD “The Wind that Shakes the Barley” (thanks DP!!!).

Well, at least until Thanksgiving. 

Connections

I hadn’t used my opportunities to reach out and connect to people to make friends since college. Coming out a lesbian in suburban New England contributed to that. I limited friends because I wanted to limit their questions about my personal life. Do you have a boyfriend? Are you married?  Do you have children? I also limited topics of discussion or I didn't bring up any topics at all. I became a good listener. Some subjects slide into the personal realm I felt I couldn't share. It's an art form I know many LGBT people have learned.

My first long term relationship was unhealthy for many reasons, but mostly because my partner was abnormally dependent on me. Extraneous friendships from wherever I worked, could not extend beyond 5:00. She would be so hurt if I needed anyone beyond her. As if I was telling her she wasn’t good enough to be everything to me, as she constantly told me I was for her. So I developed a pattern of behavior to protect her and to protect anyone attempting to befriend me. If ever I let your friendship fade away, this was my reasoning. Unfortunately this also included members of my family.

When that relationship ended after 23 years, I made a fresh start. I recognized I didn’t have those “old friend” type connections. I had only my new relationship and I did not want her to have the burden of being my everything. So I began with my family. The ones who stood back and let me be distant, let me "do my own thing" and eventually stopped inviting me. I reconnected with them immediately and that’s been truly nurturing. I’m especially grateful to have been back in my mother’s life when she was diagnosed with lung cancer, attempted a recovery, but eventually passed away.

Recently I have found myself sliding back into those old patterns of “no, I can’t; I’ve got to do this,” or “it’s too expensive, I can’t go there (which was never the real reason I couldn’t go),” or “this person is getting too personal.” I recognize my behavior and realize these are people trying to form connections with me, connections I need.

It’s time to say yes.