Loss

Rather than add to the disquieting mix of this past week’s conversation, I am going to share two quotes that may be helpful now and going forward.  The first one was shared by my sister-in-law, Catherine North.  She has always been a champion for encouraging the best in those around her.  The second quote was shard in response to the first as a continuation of inspiration.  That was shared by a newer friend who I came to know during the pandemic.  Her name is Erin Falk and she lives with joy sharing her adventures as if we were there.  The pictures were taken this past week.  Walking helped me see what I love in and about the city of New York.  

Have you ever done something that makes you so happy you can feel the sadness below the surface?  That is exactly what I’m experiencing now.  I went for a run.  The weather is beautiful in New York City.  Perfect for a run.  The sun was tucked under the clouds so that I could see a gleam, but I didn’t have to shade my eyes.  East End Avenue, right by the water, was free of traffic so that I could soften my steps with Asphalt rather than pounding the concrete pavement.  I was happy to get out after too long a break from running.  I didn’t overdo it.  I went as far as I could while respecting my limitations.  All was good.  Yet, while I felt gratitude and joy, I also felt heavy hearted.  There is much in the world that saddens me.  I see no easy fixes.  And, too many are struggling and even suffering due to dehumanizing beliefs, powerful weather forces, war, bullying, and judgement with righteousness.  Need I go on?  

This weekend I walked in the steaming heat enjoying Summer Streets while traversing Park Avenue without cars.  I will miss the next two Saturdays, so it was a pleasant reprieve to have more than enough room while walking among pedestrians, runners, and cyclists.  I am going away.  Initially I packed for a hot summer, but according to the lower temperatures in Dublin I was ill prepared.  Following my lovely and tiring walk, I  unpacked and repacked for a ten-day trip to Ireland.  Instead of tank tops and sandals I’m bringing sweaters and socks. 

This morning things did not go as planned.  I could not find my luggage scale for a vacation organized for next week.  It wasn’t in the usual places, so I did a deeper dive with no luck.  Next, I attempted to send emails, and had to restart my computer.  I wasn’t able to find my to-do list I wrote in the wee hours last night so I could check off tasks one at a time.  It showed up, but it meant I got a later start.  Of course, there are some days like this.  I’ll do what I can today and let go of the rest.  What I do know is that I plan to see women’s gymnastics trials on TV tonight.  I’m looking forward to it.  

It’s a beautiful morning today.  There is a light breeze, the sun is out but not scorching, and the sky is clear.  The temperature dropped so it feels simply delightful.  I left my apartment before 7:30 am so that I could get in a destination walk to and from Trader Joe’s to pick up a few groceries for the week.  My plan was to be in and out before the Saturday rush.  I was walking on the east side of the street, which is less sunny, thus cooler, in the mornings.  When I approached 68^th Street I was in back of someone else with a cart who had a similar plan at Trader Joe’s.  She kept trying to get around a woman with her dog whose leash straddled the entire sidewalk.  When I got close enough I said, “Excuse me, we want to pass you and your dog.”  She didn’t move.  I was less polite in my next attempt.  “You’re taking up the whole sidewalk, can you move so we can pass?” “Fuck you” she said as she barely made room for us.  As I made my way around her dog, I said “You don’t have to take the entire sidewalk.”  My tone sounded as annoyed as I felt.  Even though I had been happy to be out and about on a glorious day, I quickly turned into a grouch.  Again, she repeated, “Fuck You!” This time louder so there would be no mistaking her ire.  I didn’t look back, and I’m not proud to say that I then gave her the finger with my back to her.  Only in retrospect could I think clearly and realize she’s not having a good morning.  Did I need to add to that?  

It’s something of an irony that my and my husband’s 27^th wedding anniversary is on the 27^th week of this year.  I like coincidences like that.  When the stars align, I feel good all over.  Twenty-Seven years is probably the longest commitment to anything I’ve done in my life.  I like variety, so in the past I could do something for a while and then I’d move on.  I took a very different tactic for our marriage.  While Larry is someone who likes routines and enjoys what he knows, I like to try new things, preferring to being adventurous rather than staying in place.  Though we were a bit older than our contemporaries when we got married, I was 38 to Larry’s 45, we had a lot to learn about relationships, particularly long-term relationships.  

This Tuesday I become a published author with In the Time of Coronavirus, Reflecting on the Past to Embrace a Joyful Future.  To that end I am doing everything I know to do to promote this book, working to get it into stores, sites and libraries and into readers’ hands.  It is a daunting task.  I am overwhelmed, yet very excited.  

When I was younger and I upset someone, I would replay the incident over and over again. I found it intolerable that someone would be upset or angry with me. It felt devastating. I would apologize again and again, becoming a nuisance. Sometimes people would be more upset with my groveling than they were with the original upset. I couldn’t get it out of my mind. It felt like anything I did that hurt others was unforgivable. There was no fun to be had.

“Almost everything will work if you unplug it for a few minutes….including you.”  -Anne Lamott-”  

There are some days that I just don’t want to do anything.  And if I have to do something it can feel particularly labored.  I woke up this morning with a strong case of I don’t wanna.  I was still tired, though I received eight hours of sleep.  I was achy even though I’m stretching more given the needs of being in my mid-60s.  I was able to get away last weekend, though it now feels like it was weeks ago.

This past week I heard of the death of two people from my past. I heard from three people presently who are ill, and we are all hearing about too many in our world who are in pain, who are suffering, or who have experienced significant losses. Life is precious.

We can be shiny and perfect and admired, or we can be real and honest and vulnerable and loved. But we actually do have to choose. --Glennon Doyle Melton

I listen to Glennon’s podcast, “We Can Do Hard Things.”  On one of her podcasts she said that she used to worry that no one was listening to her.  Her audiences were small, her readership small.  But then she started seeing and hearing the few who were listening.  She realized that each person was important, not the number itself.  It was so meaningful to hear that.  I have taken it to heart.

As a psychotherapist I’ve noticed that so many people in and out of my office will say, “I know this is boring, but…” Traditionally therapists don’t respond, we only listen. I’m more interactive, so I respond to the statement that they think what they have to say is boring. I’m curious. I don’t find what they tell me boring. But I want to know how they see it themselves. The subject matter is secondary to their perceptions and experiences of living their lives. I am fascinated by that. Luckily my profession affords me to privilege of hearing their insights and opinions regarding their lives.

“Just do what works for you, because there will always be someone who thinks differently.”  Michelle Obama

I love quotes.  When I first started my psychotherapy private practice in the mid-90s before there were iPhones and Facebook, I had an answering machine, and the recording included quotes on there.  I changed them monthly or so, and it felt nice.  But I was a new therapist and I wanted to do things right.  It felt right to me.  Nonetheless, I was told by a senior therapist, one who I respected, that I might want to rethink having something so personal on my outgoing message.  The common practice was to be as neutral as possible. Her thinking was that a chosen quote could possibly be sharing unnecessary private information about me or, it might be misconceived.  

This week I’m sharing some past sunsets.  Seeing sunrises and sunsets makes me smile.  Sunsets remind me that nothing is permanent.  And sunrises are an apt metaphor that we always have a chance at a new beginning.  Both sentiments give me some peace.  And we could all use peace.

As the year approaches its end, forgiveness is on my mind.  I find that forgiveness is a process, though I used to imagine it was a one and done affair.  I earnestly believed that I could forgive someone and then I’d be okay with them.  I found that not to be the case.  It was easier to forgive if the person made changes.  Meaning they either stopped the offending behavior, or they started acting in a way they had avoided prior. 

I’m watching Barbra Streisand on PBS in her Back to Brooklyn concert.  The first time I heard her voice was in 1968 when the movie Funny Girl came out.  I was enthralled, though I wouldn’t have known that word as an eight-year-old.  Since then I’ve been a fan, attending her movies, and watching her tv specials.  I only had the opportunity to see her in-person once when she came back to Brooklyn in 2016.  It was magical.  

Napping was my top priority this past week.  They were usually twenty to thirty minutes max.  They made a tremendous difference in my mood.  I was able to get through the week with a greater capacity for patience.  I had more room for the things that usually get under my skin, like loud car horns in grid lock, or the annoying overspill from packages protected with shredded paper or other messy stuffing. 

I spilled my coffee earlier this week.  And I then let out a loud string of expletives to vocalize my frustration.  I cleaned up the mess and then rushed to work.  Not the way I had wanted to start my day.  My reaction, though provoked,  made it clear that I need some down time.  It may not be the vacation that I’ve fantasized, but even an evening in, or a task free afternoon will do at this point.  

Autumn colors fire up Central Park.  I had the good fortune of walking through the park on several occasions this past week.  I was reminded that this season represents the last of the foliage as the trees and plants prepare for the winter.  Following winter comes a renewal as Spring brings greenery and flowers to enjoy.  Just seeing the colorful trees brought hope.