A Single Shoelace

I love to hear my dad tell a story. The man could talk about shoelaces and I would find it fascinating.

My best friend's mom, who is in her seventh decade, is about to lose a friend who has known her since childhood. This woman and her friend have shared over 60 years' worth of experiences. As her friend nears death, she grieves not only the loss of a dear friend, but the loss of someone who knows all her stories. Someone she can commiserate with who understands her past. She grieves for the idea that no one will remember who she was before she became this woman of 70 years. Like two halves of a single shoelace, these women have come together, crossed, and separated throughout the years, only to come together again, cross again. In the end, they are tied together through their stories. As one prepares to go, the other wonders what use anyone would have for the frayed half of a single shoelace.

I've had, and currently have, family members who have lost their stories. Geek Squad cannot repair the hard drive on which our stories are stored. There is no backup. The brain is a fascinating machine that, once it fails, is wiped clean of a myriad of moments that make us who we are.

And so, I urge all of us to find ways to save our stories. Pass them down to your children. Keep a diary. Start a blog. Write letters. Take pictures. Do not stack up your stories until there are so many that you begin to lose them. Do not realize someday that you are a broken shoelace shoved in a miscellaneous drawer. If you have already reached that day, define yourself again. A frayed shoelace can be very useful when incarnated for another purpose. Do not fear that you will not be remembered. Revisit those stories, if for no other purpose than to find yourself again.

To my parents: Keep the stories coming. I could never read a book that is more fascinating to me than the stories of your lives.

One of my memories, Woodland Tulip Festival, 2012

Feeling left out?

Too bad. That's good.

I have a large yard that inevitably attracts all the kids in my neighborhood on a sunny day. As summer is progressing, little squabbles continue to erupt as children of multiple ages, boys and girls, try to find mutually agreeable games to play.

My neighbor doesn't like that her son is feeling left out.

*Breathe* When did we (parents) become so involved in participating in our childrens' friendships? When did it become the norm for a parent to confront another parent about something their child has said or done? When I was a kid, it had to be pretty darn bad for another parent to rat you out to your mom. These days, moms are complaining to each other left and right. They're getting involved in disputes. They feel it is "necessary" to talk to another parent about how their child is "feeling."

What the heck happened to kids learning how to deal with these dramas on their own? I am always available to my children as a consultant. I can advise them, suggest that they look at something from another perspective, and even gently nudge them to action. BUT, I will not speak for them. If they have an issue, they will need to learn how to resolve it. I will qualify this by saying that, if at any time their health or safety is threatened, I WILL intervene. If they have tried to resolve a situation (say, a schoolyard bully), and have been unsuccessful, I will assist them in finding a solution.

No, what I'm talking about is parents trying to cushion their children and protect them from this big bad scary world, not wanting them to ever feel sadness, disappointment, etc. The reality is that, as they mature into adults, children who have never learned to cope with things on their own are going to be wholly unprepared to exist in the real world. YES, your child is going to feel left out. YES, your child will experience failure. Attempting to insulate your child so that they never have to feel these things is a disservice to them.

Feeling left out? That sounds like a prime opportunity to examine how a child might cope with this feeling, what they could do differently to avoid the feeling, or whether they have some ownership in events that led up to them feeling that way. Life is not all sunshine and roses, so please stop presenting it that way to your children; otherwise, they are going to be some pretty disillusioned adults who expect everything to be handed to them on a platter. Unless you are planning to continue handing them that platter, it's probably never too early to teach them a lesson or two about life.

Social Connections

I've always been a bit of a loner. I know this, and I tend to avoid large groups. Malls give me anxiety. Just this last week, I discovered at a retirement party that I have a significantly low tolerance for small talk. I respond to idle chatter by experiencing a massive urge to flee. To most people, this may be perceived as a personality deficit; however, I would argue that my inability to tolerate large groups and inane conversations is actually an embraceable personality trait.

One, I spend a lot of time observing the behavior of others. I enjoy watching how people interact, and I pick up a lot of queues that others miss because they are too actively involved in communicating verbally. I observe nervous tics, physical traits, and social patterns. Believe it or not, large groups are very predictable. I would equate the predictabiliy to that of a traffic jam. As a person would operate a car stuck in traffic, group participants behave with a measure of predictability. There are those, like me, who maintain a space cushion, attempting to regulate the speed at which they move throughout the group. Maybe these are people who like to be in control, who want to thumb their nose at the idea that they must move in tandem with others. These are the non-conformists. Then there are those who keep changing lanes. These are the people who flit from one conversation to another, unable to commit to a lane because they keep pursuing space in another. From one conversation to the next, they are constantly moving. They are seemingly unaware that they are not making more progress than any other. I imagine these people to be the social butterflies. Finally, there are those who commit to one lane, even if it is not moving. These are those who will not pick up a queue that a conversation has fizzled. They will continue to stand in conversation with one group because the idea of changing lanes is fraught with unknown possibilities. I would argue that these people are indecisive. They appear to be committing to something when, in effect, they are afraid to make choices, which can sometimes be crippling. The end result is that they will continue to stay in one place out of fear of the unknown. They are the non-lane-changers.

Two, I am extremely self sufficient. Being a loner means that I am most comfortable in my own company. I do not seek others to help me complete tasks. Some might argue that this, again, is a detriment. However, I've found that this allows me greater freedom and provides me with an increased potential for learning. When I attempt to complete a task on my own, without input from others, I am challenged to learn something. I am able to make decisions without needing a consensus. I must creatively and actively THINK. Many times, people already have the ability to solve a problem on their own, but they depend on others to provide answers. I acknowledge that there are times when it is imperative that you consult with others, as you may need a subject matter expert, or you may need to spark creativity or see a different perspective. However, there are those who cannot complete a task or make a decision on their own. These are those who need groups to function. I am not one of those, and I am profoundly glad.

Three, while alone, I spend a lot of time thinking. Being resistant to groups means that I have a lot of time to think about my feelings, behaviors, and actions. I find that, when I am forced to exist in this world of groups, I have very little time to spend with myself. I actually physically crave my alone time. I have many friends who never crave alone time. I, quite honestly, don't know how they do it. I need that time to self-reflect. I need that time to do the things that I enjoy, which do not usually involve others. I like to read (voraciously), I like to write (adequately). I could never give these things up without giving up a part of myself. My interests and group activities are mutually exclusive.

Unfortunately, it seems as though it might be human nature to need to be a part of a group. I can't fight it, and I don't condemn it. I belong to groups. What I do not accept is the social stigma applied to the "loners". It is actually possible to be a contributing member of society but to actively prefer your own company. To those of you that I have possibly offended with my antisocial behavior, I apologize. My social inadequacies are, quite honestly, conscious choices that I make. I prefer it that way (I mentioned before, I like control). What I ask is that you recognize that, when you are in a group and see us loners against the wall, you do not assume that we are deficient in some way.

Unfortunately, I don't know any of these loners because, by nature of our loner-ness, we've never met. 

Things Californians don't know about the Pacific Northwest

As a California transplant to the Pacific Northwest in 2004, I knew approximately two things about the area. One, it rains a lot up here. Two, because it rains a lot, everything is really green. Turns out there were many things I did not know about the Northwest:

1) Hard liquor is really hard to find. The liquor stores up here are run by the State and I, to this day, have not figured out which days and times they are open. I think they might be closed on Tuesdays. People up here have never heard of Beverages and More, nor do people here make a quick run to the liquor store at 1 am on a Saturday. You actually have to plan ahead, which means that I have switched almost exclusively to beer.

2) People drive really slow up here. I understand why they do this because, unlike California and the CHP, Washington State Troopers drive both marked and unmarked cars. Be wary if you see a greyish car. I generally only drive fast in areas where I am unlikely to encounter a police officer, like my driveway.

3) It really does rain a lot up here. While I knew this prior to relocating, I didn't realize that it would mist most of the year. In Cali, I remember pretty nasty storms, but they often didn't linger for long. I think it rained all day today. And part of yesterday, and probably tomorrow. You would think that the meteorologists up here would have an easy job predicting rain but, surprisingly, they often get it wrong.

4) People up here don't use umbrellas. You can easily spot the tourists. I have an umbrella. It is in my garage. I have no current or future plans to use said umbrella, mostly because I would be ostracized by the locals.

5) The official car of the Northwest has to be the Subaru Outback. I think that every other car in some of the trendy neighborhoods is a Subaru. Second place goes to the Honda Element - the only car I know where the inside won't be ruined by the constant drizzle-mist.

6) I've heard that there are tree-huggers up here, but I have never actually seen someone hug a tree. I have, however, had many discussions about composting, gardening, and reducing my carbon footprint. I compost, recycle as much as I send to a landfill, and turn off lights in my house. I'm pretty eco-savvy.

7) Portland wants to be weird. The Pacific Northwest does not want to be like California. Some Californians may believe that everyone would move to Cali if they could afford it, but the Northwest has such a distinctive personality that people here are glad to stay, despite the rain. Or maybe because of it. If you can survive the seasonal affective disorder and high caffeine intake, you've earned the right to call the Northwest home.

I've been here for eight years. Sure, I sometimes get a little down when it has rained for seven days in a row, or when I've gone downtown Portland and it was just a little too weird. But I wouldn't move back to California. I've found a place where I can take my kids on a hike at any given moment. I've found a place where I can see the flowing Columbia River, majestic Mount Hood, and solitary Mount St. Helens at the same moment, and I see them everyday. There is beauty in every direction. But don't tell the Californians - the locals lament that there are already way too many of them up here.

Lessons for My Children
Inspired by Dhammapada
The Sayings of the Buddha

In my life, I have been fortunate in the friends I've loved, the things I've learned, the places I've seen, and the moments I've cherished. If I could select a few of the lessons I've learned from these travels and teach them to my children, I would gladly plagiarize the Buddha to deliver my message:

"See the false as false,
The true as true.
Look into your heart.
Follow your nature."

As the mother of young girls, I want them to know who they are. To know their own thoughts, their own wants. I want them to be fully present in the formation of their own lives, and to be true to themselves. A girl who knows who she is doesn't need anyone else to define her.

"Your worst enemy cannot harm you
As much as your own thoughts, unguarded."

How many people defeat themselves with fear? I've done it. I would imagine that most people, at one time or another, have deliberately avoided achieving something for fear that they would fail. I want my children to look beyond the boundaries of their fear. I want them to vanquish the voice that stops them from achieving their dreams. (note: this does not mean that I condone jumping out of airplanes or doing anything without proper protective gear)

"Look to your own faults,
What you have done or left undone.
Overlook the faults of others."

The only way to learn from the voyage of your life is to look at who you were, who you are, and who you are becoming. In finding fault with others, all you learn is how to find fault. Perhaps on the other side of the coin, you do yourself a disservice by comparing yourself to others. This is not a competition. This is your life and, to my knowledge, there aren't any do-overs. (again, note: always wear protective gear)

I could easily find lessons to teach my children. It's not as though I'm the first person to parent a child. But, if there was one lesson, and only one, that I could teach my beautiful girls, I would teach them this: "Meet yourself. Get to know yourself. Be yourself. Love yourself." Perhaps everything else falls in line as a result? I couldn't predict, since I'm still on the path to enlightenment.

          - Dhammapada, The Sayings of the Buddha
            A Rendering by Thomas Byrom
            Shambala Publications, Inc. (1976)