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.