I was up at 7 today. On Saturday's the Bikram class starts at 8:30. I walked Elsa, did my oil rinse, washed the dishes, boiled 2 pots of water for my weeds, and downed two 2 cups of water for me.
I got to yoga early enough to get my spot. I have a place that most people honor. I joke my body outline should be marked with chalk. No, it's not really my spot, but it's the one I like best. When the class started 10 minutes later, it had filled up. There were 25 people. Whoa! I worked on JJ recommendations. A biggie is a change in my breathing, pushing my upper chest up while pushing my shoulders down without arching my back rather than my lower ribs out to get more breath.
When I got home, Mike's car was sitting in the driveway. It was a trigger. My heart! I looked forward to greeting him. After thinking about it for a while, I found a solution. I'm going to ask Josh and Adam to park the car in the street instead of in Mike's usual spot.
I worked on the blog putting out two entries. Then it was nap time. I do love my naps. I convert my love seat sofa into an antigravity chair using throw pillows on both armrests. I get some of my deepest sleep there. In this case, I couldn't fall asleep, very unusual for me.
Jean Ross called because she read that I'm beginning to feel the sadness. God bless her, she is continuing to read my blog regularly because it helps her know how I am and makes her feel closer to me. Fortunately, we also talk more frequently so I can also feel closer to her.
Jean is a very busy lady. She had championed the needs and the rights of the marginalized in the mental health system when she was working, and now that she is retired, in the prison system. She said that reading about all that I'm doing gives her confidence that she won't turn into a beached blob if she stops working altogether.
Writing about what I do every day has several benefits. First, It helps me feel in contact with other people, even if no one reads it. That others are actually reading it, and many are looking forward to my postings, is a delightful surprise. Second, it gives me something to do every day. It takes time to write all this. Could I be doing other things? Yes, but this has a pleasing side effect: it keeps me focused on what I do in every minute of the day. It keeps me in the moment; it keeps me from thinking of what life once was or what life might have been if . . . . .
When I was in my twenties, I had a period of depression. It wasn't a clinical depression, but boy, I felt lousy. It felt like I was moving through molasses and getting nothing done. I started writing down everything I did. "I got out of bed, I showered, I brushed my teeth, combed my hair, I made a cup of coffee, I drank it, I smoked a cigarette, I washed two dishes." Sound familiar? This simple activity pulled me out fairly quickly. Sometimes, I felt so empty that it was essential to break down tasks to details, sort of writing out the details of the recipe instead of just saying 'I cooked chicken Florentine."
Jean and I also talked about DCI Banks. The show has improved since Carolyn Catz's character came on. She is a much stronger, clearer, less emotionally confusing character.
Jean has made several references to the passionate nature of Mike's and my relationship. I think we were passionate about loving each other rather than passionate about each other, which resulted in our being passionate about each other. There is a difference. One is dependent on mood; the other is a commitment, a plan of action.
I had a commitment to make positive comments to people in general, to tell people things about them, or what they did that pleased me, brought me delight or joy. This was a response to my mother's deep commitment to never saying anything positive. I've written about her position on this before. She literally, and I do mean literally, felt that she could harm me by saying something positive about me to me. (Apparently, she was known to say positive things about me behind my back. And there is that one occasion when she felt so overwhelmed about her gratitude to me, that she had to tell me – even though she knew she was doing me harm. Go figure. She was born in 1903 in Germany. I'm told that there was some cultural basis for her position, but she carried it to a penultimate absurdity.)
Mike and I also had a commitment to showing each other affection. Another thing which my mother found a complete abomination. I can remember reaching up to kiss her as a child and her pushing me away with disgust. I think she associated all forms of physical contact with sex. Yuck! Might have been appropriate if that were the case, but I was four.
Back to Mike and me: We were both raised by mothers, who, for their own reasons, were committed to telling us we were terrible people. Mike and I were determined to giving positive feedback. Some people praise others for the other person's sake; or express love for the other person's sake, to make the other person feel good. I do it primarily because it makes me feel good.
I don't know about Mike, but I express praise to others for my sake. My behavior may have started as a commitment to be kind to others, to be nothing like my mother. But the result was unexpected. I developed a greater appreciation of others, and praise would more easily blossom out of my breast, and I allowed it to pass through my lips and say the accompanying words. I discovered this felt great. I try only to give praise when it genuinely arises in me. People know the difference between false praise and a person's genuine pleasure with another person or something they have done. Not that I don't sometimes fake it.
It isn't only German culture that thinks praising people is pointless. It is part of American culture too. It isn't only German culture that thinks expressing affection openly to another adult, and I don't mean culturally approved affectionate greetings, but an affection that bursts through your heart. You know, the kind of affection that we are allowed to express to young children and pets freely. I think some people have children for this purpose alone because they believe it is the only way to be a genuinely loving person. What a shame! That phase of childhood is short-lived. If you can share it with your partner, it goes on as long as you both shall live.
Now, this does not mean that I didn't find failings in Mike or any other human being. I am as sensitive to what I don't like as I am to what I do like. When I met Mike, I didn't think he was perfect, I don't think I even thought he was wonderful. I thought, "I think I can live with this man just the way he is for the rest of my life." I wasn't madly in love; the relationship just felt 'right.' I knew I belonged with him. That was a good starting place.
As it wound up, if I had really known who he was, I might not have been so glib about it. But by the time I found out about the reality, there was something I really, really detested, I was in deep. The thing I discovered is that when he made sarcastic, demeaning comments about and to other people, he wasn't' kidding. Really? OMG! He would say to me, calmly and in jest, "What does your little, measly heart want?" Now that sounded funny to me at the time. Little did I know that there was an element of honesty in his comment. He was seriously demeaning me. How do I know? Because he told me so long after the fact, and how badly he felt about saying those things to me.
Now, in all fairness, I found his arrogance attractive and admitted that to myself. It was familiar. My father was an arrogant man while being gentle and considerate and deeply interested in others. Go figure? How do you put that all together? I don't know if I would have left Mike if I had really understood how pernicious his arrogance was in the beginning. But once I realized, I started responding critically. He would argue that he had a right to his opinion. I told him absolutely, but not how he expressed is. He could say I don't like or I don't agree; he couldn't say someone else's opinion was stupid or some other critical term like that. I think his dad used to be like that. Now, he didn't manifest arrogance in every moment of our interactions. He had a deep respect for me and my rights within the marriage. Decisions were made jointly. There were times when his old attitudes would creep in.
Two years ago, I pushed for getting solar panels. Mike argued there was no point, they would never amortize in our lifetime. To begin with, we have money because my mom left it to me. That makes our happy financial cushion mine. I happily supported him getting his library, for his 3,000 books, and the kitchen he wanted because he wanted it. It gave me joy for him to get these dreams of his fulfilled. I finally asked him, "How well do you think your library and kitchen will amortize?" He married me because I was his worthy opponent. I had complete respect for his point of view but was prepared to fight or mine. We were both prepared to listen to the other's opinion and change our minds.
We also both had a commitment to change in general. We met in group therapy. What else can I say? Also, it has been my experience that people who are not interested in making changes in themselves avoid me like the plague. That's just an observation. I used to push people to change; I don't do that anymore, but it doesn't make much difference. I represent introspection and working to make life better for myself and others by changing myself. Change can be uncomfortable. It is always unfamiliar. Some people would literally rather be dead than experience a shift from what they already know or look deeply into themselves.
Today, JJ, the yoga teacher, was talking about using yoga to make changes in our bodies. He said that if we are making real changes, we will find a posture somewhat uncomfortable. If you want to change, you can't avoid discomfort.
Back to our passionate relationship: I know of a woman who once said that she thought all her husband wanted was for her to smile at him. You think? She was committed to not giving him that or anyone else. I think she thinks there's something immoral about smiling at people. It's invasive, perhaps even predatory. I'm not sure why someone would take such a position.
Conversely, Mike and I made a commitment to have greeting and departure rituals that involved hugging and kissing each other. Was this always spontaneous or natural? Don't be silly. Sometimes we just acted as if until it was.
I mentioned before there was a prolonged dry period in our relationship. I'm not sure why it happened or why we didn't seek professional help. I remember it never occurred to me to do so. We both, independently, considered leaving the relationship. What kept us put was that we thought the other person was a really good person, and we had nowhere else to go. The backbone of our relationship was the sincere belief that the other person was a good person or intended to become better. The dry spell broke. Our affectionate behavior became utterly genuine.
I walked Elsa, ate dinner while watching DCI Banks, and cataloged some more books. I'm moving along. Getting rid of the books will get all done faster than I thought. Then the catalog will be sent out to seminaries, the one in New Orleans first. When they request books, I'm going to have to find them. That is going to be another trip and a half. Mike's books are somewhat organized, but it's not like a professional library. How many years will this all take? Someday, all the books will be gone, and I will have to decide what I'm going to do with that room. I am not looking forward to that emptiness.
I took Elsa for the final walk of the evening, washed my face, brushed my teeth and went to bed. I said, "Goodnight, Elsa. Goodnight, Mike."
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