relationships

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.  

If change is the only constant in life, why do we have such a hard time with it?  When two old friends died this past week I was grateful to have known them. Although my life will not change much since they were no longer regular presences in my current life, their kindness, compassion and humor have stayed with me since we met in the 80’s.  However, their close family and friends now will feel the change in their lives profoundly, as do we all when death comes to those we love.  

I have too much stuff.  I just spent hours going through drawers and closets to clean out what I don’t want anymore and what I don’t need.  Though I’m happy I did that and now I can bring bags to the thrift store, and bags to the trash, I am still left with too much stuff.  Some things like outdated membership cards were easy to throw out.  Vitamins and minerals I rarely take, office supplies I may need at some unknown point in time, and other sundry items make it harder for me to determine their usefulness.  When I was younger and lived alone, the small apartment size made it easy to throw things out.  I simply didn’t have the space.  Though I am so grateful for all the storage space in our present apartment, I find that clutter accumulates in the recesses of those closets.  

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. 

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.  

I was nervous.  I had agreed to participate in a Zoom panel which included reading from my pre-published book, In the Time of Coronavirus. but it’s been a long time since I’ve spoken to a group.  As I was practicing, reading the blog post a few times, I noticed my voice sounded like it was stuck in my throat.  I did not think that was a good thing.  

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.

Having lived as long as I have, visiting friends and family sometimes means travel. Following our amazing time in Mexico City we took a drive to the Teotihuacán Pyramids, which were magnificent. It’s a pre-historic Mayan city. To walk in the same steps as those who resided there thousands of years ago is a powerful experience. From there we traveled on to San Miguel de Allende, a lovely small city with an artistic soul.

I made a trip to DC this weekend. I was going to visit family, see a musical, get to the National Portrait Gallery and enjoy the cherry blossoms. I was able to enjoy time with my family and see a most wonderful show at Arena Stage Theater. Bu it turns out the Cherry Blossoms were premature this year due to the warmer winter months. I thought I was early enough but that was not the case. I saw trees with waning petals, the best in Takoma Park, MD. But the city failed to provide me with the simple joy of full flowered trees wherever I went.

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.

"Salad can get a bad rap. People think of bland and watery iceberg lettuce, but in fact, salads are an art form." - Marcus Samuelsson

I made miso dressing this past week. It turned out well.  I tweaked the recipe so that it had a slight sweetness to balance the umami tones.  Before that it was buttermilk dressing.  Growing up we had a fresh salad every night.  And my mother was a stickler for homemade dressing.  She favored vinaigrettes when I got older, but before that we enjoyed homemade Russian dressing, Thousand Island Dressing, Italian, and Roquefort.    There was a distinct difference between her dressings and the bottled versions of Wishbone and Kraft.