The space between...

     Space is a beautiful thing, occupied by potential above all else and we frequently speak of the "potential" a space has.  I recently found myself pondering one space I often observe but rarely consider the potential of...the space between breaths.
     Initially I am aware that there is potential for another breath; it is in fact highly probable that a breath will follow, but it is not guaranteed.  A breath can carry the words or actions of a given moment, providing the flow of air that energizes or releases the potential that is held within that breath.  And what energy do we place into a given breath?  Where does it come from, and what determines how that energy moves out into the world?  Well of course the breather/actor/agent does, but the question struck me more deeply than that.
     For me this line of pondering lead me to attending to what I notice, or what is present for me in the space between breaths.  If that space if filled with all the potential of a single breath, it seems that what I do with that breath will be determined in large part by what I hold in that space. Maybe it simply begs the question of who I am, who I aspire to be, and how I move through the world. Perhaps this is why I am drawn to Metta Bhavana as a practice. 

Three Teenagers!

I always have the expectation of scary music accompanying those words; for some reason it never does, but you should see the looks on peoples faces when I say "I have three teenagers."  The music must be in their heads.

I officially have three teenagers as of earlier this summer.  I think I'm "supposed" to feel old, tired, and very afraid.  Not happening...in fact I am feeling pretty darn happy about the whole thing.  I wonder why?

Well, I'm not old; actually I am relatively young*.   My kids are fantastic (knock on wood).  No behavior problems, only developmentally appropriate attitude problems, good grades, mostly nice friends (they are teenagers after all), goals and plans for now and the future, hobbies, chores that they actually do, some common sense, and healthy doses of humor.  Somehow this combination just doesn't inspire fear, dread, or an impending sense of doom.  Something must be wrong with me... 

Oh, ya...I am a little tired. Maybe I will come to my senses after a good night's sleep :-P


*Please understand that the definition of young shifts relative to my age, and will likely continue to do so.

Simplicity according to...Shampoo???

Moving again; the very thought of it sends alternating waves of excitement and dread through me.  This should be no problem for me, I am an old pro.  I grew up in a military family; we moved every few years for all of my childhood and I have moved several times since.  It is just a part of life; packing, simplifying, cleaning, saying goodbye, and departing yet again.  Still, there is a trick to it.  Moving is about saying goodbye, but also about saying hello.  It is about balancing the reality of knowing what you leave behind with the excitement of the unknown, the future.  It is also about simplifying your life (my favorite part).

So how does one simplify and when does one start?  How do you know it is time to begin sorting, packing, selling, and donating?  How do you use up the last of the pantry items while still enjoying dinnertime?????  OK,  sometimes you just have to wing it.  You will find your own way.  But simplicity is my favorite, and my guide on this path is....shampoo!?!!

Seriously, shampoo.  Now every family is different, but in mine there are several bottles of shampoo in the shower at a given time (I do have 2 teens and a tween plus myself, and there are "preferences" amongst the populace).  As the time of our move drew closer, I stopped accommodating "preferences."   Funny how as the ledge in the shower cleared, I began to clear other shelves, cabinets, closets, drawers, and corners of the house.  The whole odd  relationship between the two has been amusing, proceeding in tandem in this surreal reflection of gradually moving a life (or 4 lives) from one region of the country to another. 

Now we are down to 2 partial shampoos, 2 partial conditioners, and 3 partial body washes (don't ask.....).  Most of what makes my house "homey" is hidden in Bacardi or Jameson boxes, waiting to be loaded onto a truck in a couple weeks.  The big attic if full of things that will be going to a garage sale and the local women's shelter; the small attic contains what is moving with us.  We might have to do this again in a year; its easier if you start with less...I wonder if I can get everyone to love the same shampoo???

Busy

One of the inherent challenges in deciding to do something completely for personal reasons while being in graduate school is that the moment competing demands begin squeaking too vociferously, we drop all the extra stuff (like blogging).  I have been having a wonderful several weeks filled with success and mobility both at school and at home.  My dissertation is moving again, my client work is challenging but very positive, my family is busy with exciting things, I matched for internship and am preparing to move to a new state in 2 months, I am working to dedicate free time to my friends who I will miss greatly, and my activist project is inching along (who knew how long editing a PSA would take)...  Throughout this, I have had so many ideas for blog posts, and no time I am willing to free up specifically to write them (I have learned over the last several years that cutting into the little sleep I get is a very bad idea).  Oh, the nature of prioritizing!  One of the most important things I can do at times like this is to remind myself that I am only one woman, and have a good laugh about it.  I enjoy this activity, but it is an "extra" and has to take the back burner; accept and love what is.  But I am pouting about it a little.... so I write a short post tonight about being dissatisfied about not posting.  Funny how the silly little things make me feel better sometimes!

Scientific Shennanigans

      It is science fair time at the middle school again, and that means a world of crazy around here.  Everyone's data tables and results graphs are due next Friday, so guess where some extra kids are coming to conduct their experiments...here of course!  I am so glad Monday is a Holiday!  It looks like we have 4 lined up so far; Lydia is looking at what wakes people up, Allie is seeing what berries make the best natural ink, Maika is looking at which types of building materials withstand earthquake, and Rhiannon is checking out what brand of popcorn leaves the fewest un-popped kernels.
      I was Lyd's guinea pig for the first part of hers; it involved falling asleep on the couch and getting ice to the face to see how long it would take before I fell asleep again...twice since one data point alone is meaningless.  She'll finish torturing me tomorrow night. The other two IVs involve sour liquid and peppermint extract (both should be preferable to the ice).  She is lucky to have the friends she has, because they have volunteered to let her wake them up (or torture them depending on your perspective) at a sleepover.  We will see how much love there is in the room come morning!
     Allie's should be fun; she has pomegranate seeds, blueberries, and blackberries. She even collected feathers to use as quills to be "authentic."  I am not sure what her DV is, but it should at least be a fun mess to make.  Mental note - make sure no one is wearing white tomorrow....  
      I am not sure what we are doing with Maika's ... putting her constructions onto the kitchen table and shaking it vigorously... putting them in the car and driving on a dirt road... running them through the dryer on air fluff for 10 minutes....  suggestions are welcome!
      Rhiannon's should rock, and buy me forgiveness points (Katie and I were scolded by the girls last night for eating the last of the popcorn).  We have 3 brands of popcorn to test, which means the kids better be hungry.  They can get their popcorn fix, weigh the leftover kernels, and eat in the name of science (I wonder if they'll get extra credit for watching a sci-fi film while eating)?    
      I wish dissertating was this much fun :)

Happy 10th

      Tonight I find myself considering what 10 years looks like.  For me it has been an interesting decade; where it started is such an incredible contrast to where I am today.  It was a lot to hold throughout the day; this is not the traditional kind of milestone that I celebrate with others, and I would certainly not celebrate it in a way that is visible to my children.
      It was 10 years ago today that I dropped out of college and drove away from an abusive marriage with a minivan full of whatever fit that I thought would be important and $50 in my purse.  My parents had come a week earlier and taken the kids and some household stuff in their Jeep.  I had spent the week afraid that I would become another shirt on the clothesline project, but I had given notice at work and felt obligated to stay until that date.  Looking back, I cannot recall what could have possibly been that important there, but who thinks clearly under such stress?   Obviously not me.  When I hit I-94 I started to breathe again; the farther I went the easier it got; Highway 10; Highway 64, and so on.  When I arrived at my parent's house 5 hours later I realized that I had done it, finally.
      OK, now what?  It was time to put on my big girl panties and deal with my reality.  I knew what my goals were: be a good mom, get a job, and to finish my education someday.  Luxuries like school seemed so unattainable at that time, but I never took it off the list.  In the meantime I worked and adjusted to parenting alone. I swallowed my pride and accessed public assistance, lived with my parents, and saved enough to put a down payment on a house.  I was that exhausted mom in the grocery store at 6PM toting three kids (who were sometimes whining or screaming).  Eventually my youngest started kindergarten, so I finally went back to school.  Over the course of 4 years I completed 2 Bachelors degrees and a Masters degree - still working on the PhD.  Luckily I am not anticipating any major road blocks at this point; the hardest years are a decade behind me and I have gotten pretty good at managing the hiccups that appear. 
      Don't mistake my track record as the most important source of my confidence; I would not have accomplished any of this in isolation.  On average, women leave and return to an abusive relationship 7 times before staying away.  I never understood why this statistic was so surprising to folks given how stigmatized victims of intimate partner violence are in our society.  This was my third try, but I had the right supports and opportunities in my life this time.  What stands out most clearly to me is the people who have been present in my life, and the ways in which they have helped me to accomplish what once felt impossible.  Much of the inspiration, courage, and strength I found was renewed within the context of my relationships with family, friends, and mentors.  There are so many people who have been witness to and part of my journey, most never realizing what that journey actually was. 
      It was with the people in my life that I learned to begin living again, to love the ordinary, every day in my life.  OK, so I worked all day and came home and worked all night until I fell into bed.  So do a lot of other people, and it was worth it to do it well whether I was tired or not.  Making dinner became less of a chore and more of an opportunity for getting creative, having fun, and bringing people together (which subsequently made grocery shopping more enjoyable).  I sang while I washed the floors and danced while I dusted. Spelling practice became kinesthetic silliness with my son and math was a great excuse for popcorn.  My homework was forward mobility in APA format.  I hosted sleep overs and movie nights, scout meetings and BBQs.  I had late night phone calls with friends and still got up at 6 because both things mattered.   
      I try to find small ways to celebrate the everyday, and I intentionally make time for people and activities.  My friends marvel that I can manage to find time and energy for side projects and hosting get togethers; I can't image not doing so.  We only have one life.  It is not going to finally be happening in 10 years, it is happening in our everyday moments. So this 10th looked like late nite nachos and tequlia shots with Katie after the kids were asleep; 10 years could look like any woman, but tonight it looks like me.

The other pillow

My friends and family know I don’t date – in fact it has become something of a joke because it has been so long.  There are two recent experiences that have brought this reality and its complexities into a sharp focus over the past couple months.  The first was a humorous observation that I was fortunate enough to be able to share with the young woman who tutors my children.  The second was a visit with a dear, old friend who made time while I traveled through his community.

                The first happened on a typical Wednesday evening – about as busy, boring, and ordinary as it gets.  I had been running all day with my usual Mommy- soon to be-PhD stuff; working on internship applications, dissertation, seeing clients, running a parenting group, and finally stopping at the grocery store on the way home.  After the scramble of unloading the car, passing out “hello” hugs, listening to the day’s escapades, and putting away groceries I headed to my room to hang up my jacket so I could start making dinner.  As I walked into my room I happened to glance at my bed, and burst out laughing.  I mean full bodied, tears in my eyes, lose my breath kind of laughing.  Katherine walked around the corner to see what the great joke was – so I pointed to my bed “No wonder I don’t date: if it ever gets serious I have no where to put him!” 

                It was true, and was clearly illustrated in that one image.  My laptop sits on the other pillow; texts on child psychopathology and treatment, statistics, mixed methods research, and attachment were stacked neatly below that; then journal articles on trauma and related topics; followed by a small set of sewing projects I want to finish (in all my spare time); and finally a couple CDs, my journal, and the kids school pictures I still needed to mail to folks.  The image was incongruous, a neatly made bed that I only have to fold the covers back a little to crawl into, with a line of work down the other side where a partner would be in another life.  The space in my life is occupied both literally and figuratively; that ordinary Wednesday evening provided a much needed laugh as well as a visual dose of the reality of the choices I have made. 

                I won’t lie, this reality has a bittersweet quality.  I have never dated much, in fact I have only had 2 partnered relationships in the past 20 years, and briefly dated a couple guys in the years between.  One thing I have been told, and do believe, is that I am not an easy woman to be in a relationship with.  I am goal oriented, driven, intelligent, and assertive.  While women may find these qualities attractive in a man, in my experience men rarely find these qualities attractive in a woman.  The contrast is perhaps too sharp alongside my nurturing, gentle, homey, flirty side (that fits the feminine image beautifully, though).  The men who have been interested in me historically are drawn to the feminine aspects of me, but I am a package deal.  If I cannot be my driven, ambitious, successful, silly, sappy, hippie-esque self with a partner I would just as soon be single.  I have amazing and rich friendships, so I am not lonely for company.  If all I missed was sex I would simply turn to the single woman’s most trusted small appliance, the B.O.B.  I can honestly admit to myself that I miss the close companionship of a full relationship, though. 

                I may not have admitted that as readily in the absence of my second experience.  While I was traveling to interview for internships I was able to spend some time visiting a dear friend who I hadn’t seen in nearly 20 years.  There were a few moments that reminded me somewhat of a date.  He was charming, thoughtful, attentive, and kind – essentially the good friend he has always been.  I think the contrast to my current life, as well as my past relationships, was a bit disorienting.  So I had a lovely evening and had to admit to myself that perhaps I should re-evaluate my single-ness soon.  

                I have been home for several days, and I must admit I am somewhat conflicted by my awareness of the two experiences.  I can honestly say that I have not “tested the waters” for quite a while.  Perhaps it is time to think about it.  Still, I am a middle aged, single mother with 3 kids (and I talk about them a lot), finishing my PhD, moving to an as yet to be determined location in less than 6 months.  I am full of excuses, and most of them are things I choose actively because they matter that much to me.  Ultimately though, I think I am afraid that I would have to make myself less for a partner to want to enter my life and I do not intend to do that ever again.  Perhaps after I defend my dissertation and move I will be more open to dating.  So my laptop is still on the other pillow, but I have cleared some of the other stuff out of the way. Its a good thing I have lots of time!

What is this all about, anyway?

     This is not a blog for people who want to read the fabulous and exciting stories about the moments that light up the sky.  There will be those moments here, but this is about a real life.  It is woven from those ordinary moments that come together to create the brilliant flashes for which others express admiration or wonderment.   My CV is rather impressive by most standards, as it should be since I am only a dissertation and internship away from my PhD.  The fact that most of it was accomplished while being a single mother of 3 children lends it a different weight.  One of my kids is a gifted singer, another is a mathematical wiz kid, and the third an aspiring chef, so there are plenty of mom’s taxi moments, as well opportunity seeking for the kids.   After people get to know me a little, they eventually discover that my oldest and youngest have special needs, and then the questions start.       

     It is funny how people often ask “how do you do it” with bewilderment or comment that they could never do the things I do.   I don’t believe it for a minute, partly because to me what I do is second nature.  This frequent line of questioning has led me to wonder how it is that I actually accomplish living my life with such a degree of success, Yeah, I suppose when you just put it on paper, my CV is impressive.  Seriously, I am only human, and a relatively simple creature at that.  I love my crazy family life, I struggle with the positive and negative sides of flying solo, I cycle through mobility and feeling overwhelmed, and I remain a driven woman in both my personal and professional life.   This has been a journey of both heart and spirit, and you are invited to walk with me for a while.  It won’t all be pretty, but it will be real.