Do Nothing

     So many of us are caregivers, and many more of us are worriers.  We want to be able to fix the world:  men have no proprietary edge on that. When we can't fix what is broken, we take care of it in the best way we can. There is healing in being able to do something, anything, to make the situation better. In my case, caring for my sister means baking cookies and sending cards and eating breakfast with her when I visit. Those things won't heal the cancer, but they help heal the soul, both hers and mine. And that's about all we can ask for, since we aren't really in control of the universe.
    Caregiving itself is a heavy task, one I'm happy that I needn't do on a 24/7 basis. How do we refresh ourselves when the energy we have been giving to others depletes our own reservoirs?
    Martha Beck in the September issue of O, The Oprah Magazine, writes an article titled "Lying Low," the gentle art of surviving when things fall apart. "If nothing's working for you, if you feel as though you're pushing against the grain, the most productive thing you can do is nothing." Step four in her article is to "Rest like you mean it." I breathed a deep truly relaxed sigh after finishing her article.
    When there is nothing to be done, do nothing, and then bake cookies.

What Do You Do?

What do you do when there's nothing to be done?

When Guillain-Barre Syndrome struck my grandson Brody, I would have done anything to make it go away. But there was absolutely nothing I could do. His mothers stayed with him in the hospital to work the magic of their nurturing; his doctors, nurses, respiratory therapists, physical therapists, and occupational therapists tended to his medical needs. I stood on the sidelines and watched him suffer. My heart froze and splintered into a billion tiny fragments. I tried to bargain with The Universe, but she ignored my plea to transfer the illness to my body. My life hung suspended as if a pause button had been pressed, to be released only by a sign of improvement in Brody's condition. I tried another bargain: what if I offered my life in exchange, would The Higher Power heal him then? A flood of emotion lifted my spirits at the moment that I realized that I loved sweet Brody so much, I would die for him. It wasn't plausible, but I was willing, and somehow that gave me hope.

Now, almost three weeks later, Brody is on the long, tiring road to recovery. There are many ways I can help him now, and that heals my heart. Life goes on and "normal" continues to redefine itself day by day. But in the background the same question lingers:

What do you do when nothing can be done?

Paths Past and Future

So. We are now at that age when we have decided it is our turn, time for us to do what we want. Finished playing the second to spouse, family, job. 
 
The first task is to determine if we still remember how to put ourselves first, how to allow our desires to come to the forefront. Stop forever compromising for the benefit of others. And that is no easy task.
 
Then, if we are going to do what we want, we have to figure out what that is. Really. Not what someone else wants, not what we think we should want, not what we have always done. Then come the questions. Where, and with whom?
 
Is it just me, or is anyone else tired of living someplace because that is where the spouse is happy? Am I the only one who finds herself a completely different person, with different interests, than she was at the time she married that person? And is mine the only spouse who never changed? When you contemplate the next chapter in your life, can you think of wonderful things to do, but really really don’t want to do them with that person? Do others simply hibernate rather than force a situation that seems to have only solutions that make (keep) at least one person unhappy? 
 
So, first, the question of where we live. What if I push my wants and then even I end up not liking it? Then we are both unhappy. What if I love it, but he is miserable?  It is such a huge responsibility to have to prove that it is the right move. 
 
Then, how do we find NEW things to do that we both like? Is it just selfishness that makes me NOT want to share, or is it the fear that he will drag down my joy? Is it so wrong for me to want a partner that lights up over the same things as I do? Of course, the spouse would like nothing better than for me to light up over the things he loves ... so are we both chafing at the same bit? Or do men just get used to having their way and never feel regret if we are tired of the ride?
 
Finally, if there is a way to prevent this growing apart over the years, it is a moot point now. Great to share with the children so they can stay in step with their partners, but not helpful for us. And is it even possible, or is it a gender and societal issue? Relationships always require some compromise, but I wonder if there are couples out there who have traversed the child-raising years and are still HONESTLY walking together on the same path.
 
More importantly, are you out there, like me, finding yourselves with very little intersection, but discovering a way to come back together? I would love to hear your solutions.

                                                                                    Guest post

Boundaries of Life

During a recent trip to Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado, a sign titled "Boundaries of Life" caught my eye. 

What are the boundaries of life? What boundaries do we set for ourselves and those around us? Do we allow others to encroach on what we need for a rich life? Sometimes relinquishing our needs for others is necessary and the right thing to do, but often we have developed the habit of putting ourselves last, and not speaking out for what we need. We live above the treeline, in the barren places, when we could live in the warmer and gentler forests, nourished by the love of those around us. Our lives needn't be windswept and lonely. By sharing and being assertive about our needs and desires, we garner the bounty of shared visions and goals. We play not just a supportive role, but create a partnership of survival and growth.

Living above the treeline is not always our choice. Circumstances may force us to struggle.  Our version of snowdrifts, wind, avalanches and exposure can be illness, job loss or relationship problems. In the mountains, nature forces trees surviving at the highest altitude into twisted shapes called krummholz. We've seen these in the Sandia Mountains just east of Albuquerque where the tree grows with the prevailing winds. On the Kenai Peninsula in Alaska, krummholz grows just below the treeline along the ground. The twisted horizontal growth occurs when the normally upright tree tip or leader is blasted by wind-driven ice crystals during the winter. This winterkill of the leader prunes the top of the tree and promotes fuller growth of lower branches.

When we are buffeted by challenging circumstances, we tend to hunker down, lying in the swales and depressions of our daily lives.  But we can still survive.  The winter storms will prune us and shape us, but fuller growth, even though in a different shape than when we began, will be our reward.

Desired or Required?

Like my co-blogger Ruth and her mother-in-law (see previous post, "The Value of a Woman") and many more women, I'm sure, I am looking for a better balance between what's desired and what's required in my life. Whether I was trained to it or born to it, in my early years I saw my needs as secondary to those of my parents, my brother, and then my husband, children, and friends. Like the archetypical obedient child, I did what was expected of me. I did what was required to the best of my ability, and I didn't spend much time thinking about what I desired. If I wanted or needed something and fulfillment didn't interfere with anyone else, I usually got it. If my desire conflicted with another's, I deferred to what I interpreted as their greater need.

I want you to know that I thought I was being objective, carefully weighing those needs against each other and concluding that the other person REALLY wanted theirs, while I, well, I could get along quite well without having my own way all the time, couldn't I? And didn't it make me happy to see my loved ones satisfied and fulfilled? And didn't I get comfort from avoiding conflict and the possibility of rejection?

In recent years, though, I've started to wonder. Did I perhaps go overboard with the self-sacrifice? Did I turn myself into a wishy-washy doormat instead of the loving and giving nurturer I thought I should be? I'm often envious of people who seem able to stick to their guns and get their own way 90% of the time; but, in general, I don't like them or respect them. The people I admire stand up for themselves in a most pleasant way and get what's important without walking all over everybody else.

My ideal self is assertive without being aggressive, accommodating without being subservient, a partner rather than slave or master. Old habits are hard to break, but I'm strong. I am proud of the woman who is emerging as I move toward my ideal.

The Value of a Woman

What is the value of a woman? Searching the internet, I found religious sites, romance and seduction sites, and even a couple of songs, "The Value of a Woman" and "A Woman's Worth." They all seemed to DE-value a woman, making her an object of desire or servitude. Searching for "the worth of a woman" led me to financial sites, a domestic violence site, and a celebration of "Women of Worth" in Vancouver.  Now we're talking.

The 6th annual Woman Of Worth (WOW)™ Conference  held in Vancouver this past May was titled: Empowered Leadership: Celebrating the Magnificence of Women.  One extraordinary day for 800 women that impacts a lifetime ...  The session tracks were Health | Wealth | Leadership | Empowerment | Chocolate Fountains!  I must put this on my calendar for next year. The WOW Event

According to Kofi Annan, Former Secretary-General, United Nations, "The future of the world depends on women."  Margaret Mead said, “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it's the only thing that ever has.” 

One group of women which has taken action to change the world is Women for Women International. The organization helps women survivors of war rebuild their lives.  Their theory of change: "When women are well, sustain an income, are decision-makers, and have strong social networks and safety-nets, they are in a much stronger position to advocate for their rights. This philosophy and our commitment to local leadership builds change and capacity at the grassroots level." Women for Women International

We won't feel empowered to change the world until we grant ourselves permission to love and respect ourselves.  Girls are often taught not to brag, not to think too highly of themselves, and to serve others first. Being assertive and realizing that we have something to offer the world comes slowly for many of us, and some never reach that point. On her 80th  birthday, my mother-in-law announced, "I'm 80 and I'll do what I want."  She rejected new recipes to try and invitations to attend events for which she had no interest.  I loved the woman she became, full of jokes and more relaxed than I'd ever seen her.  I rejoiced, but I was saddened at the same time.  What a shame to wait until she was 80 to do the things she wanted to do. I vowed then to live my life the way I want it now, and not wait till I'm 80. I value the person I really am, and put aside the small quiet voice that says, "Not worthy."

Something of Value

Since the burglary, I've spent hours searching. First I had to search the house to identify what had been stolen. Then I set off on a seemingly endless soul-searching trek. My advice to myself: When life sends you a lesson, make a lesson plan. It looked like my lesson referred to materialism, and I beat myself up about my attachment to things. I tried to convince myself that I would be a better person if I didn't replace the stolen items. As I grieved over my trinkets and treasures I didn't feel better or wiser; I felt vulnerable, lost, disillusioned, and spiritually impoverished.

When the police detective asked about the extent of our loss, I quoted the prices of the laptop and MP3 player, but I told him that my jewelry wasn't worth much beyond sentimental value.

In the days following the police report, I had to search my memory to come up with an accurate inventory for our insurance claim. Some of the memory jolts stung like a physical blow -- my grandmother's Bavarian crystal necklace, my dad's high school class ring, the Turkish puzzle ring Fred gave me 43 years ago. I had carried these bits and pieces with me all my life and around the world. The hole in my spirit deepened with each addition to the list.

Before my inventory was complete, our insurance claims adjuster asked me for an approximate figure for the jewelry. I couldn't answer. "Would it be less than $2500?" he asked. I felt relieved to reply in all honesty, "No doubt."

Being the person that I am, I entered my inventory in an Excel worksheet. REPLACEMENT VALUE: GRAND TOTAL =SUM(E1:E91). I compressed my lips between my teeth and pushed ENTER. The dollar amount confirmed my growing suspicion: my jewelry had been worthy after all! In a font as clear as Arial Bold my lesson spelled out its meaning. To validate it, I went to my Native American Medicine Deck, shuffled, and drew one card:

"The key word is respect. Learn to assert, without ego, what you are. Respect follows. You must first respect yourself. Walk tall and be proud of the accomplishments you have made."

I take this to heart. My loved ones have told me often enough that I undervalue my talents and accomplishments, just as I had undervalued my jewelry collection. At the end of this search that began with a burglary, I've found a reminder that I am indeed something of value. Now I'm gathering courage to strut my stuff. Maybe I'll check out that interesting listing in New Mexico Kids! Magazine and learn how to beat my own drum -- or start gathering music for the lullaby CD I've dreamed of making. I want to reach out beyond my boundaries, just to see what's there.