Contradiction or just Complicated?

I often wonder if I can be defined... if I can learn more about who I am through the scientific and psychological exams and quizzes that "define" or "label" people.

I'm never JUST one answer. I'm always a very nearly equal of two.

For instance... my Ayurvedic dosha is both kapha and pitta.

My temperament is a balance of melancholy and sanguine.

Even my astrological sign of Capricorn is both earth and water, with a goat's body and a fish tail.

A Myers-Briggs assessment shows that I am both intuitive and logical... using both thinking and feeling.

I am right brain AND left brain.

When I was singing in my last band, I was both a songwriter and, during my work life, a technical systems engineer.

I can see both sides. I feel both things. I cannot always decide.

I am both spiritual and sexual. (And no, I don't see either as mutually exclusive.)

I love the ocean and the mountains.

Musically, I like country AND western. (Ha ha! Just seeing if you were still reading.)

I like the city and the country.

I like mod, eclectic and antique.

Perhaps I am undefinable. Maybe I'm outside the confines of labels.

I can be both conservative and liberal.

I am bisexual, attracted to both men and women.

I can't decide if I'm completely undecided or balanced.

Ying and yang, ya'll.

Eh, I'll just say I'm easy to get along with.

*big grin*


Have a great weekend!! (I'm spending it with my man!!)

***

I apologize to some of you who tried to comment yesterday and couldn't. It appears that some could... and other could not, for some odd reason. Thanks for trying and please send me an email if you're still having problems.

Conscientious children

The other night I really wanted to attend my friend D's A Course in Miracles study group. I don't go as often as I'd like but I woke up with the definite thought to go.

The problem was, my babysitter was unavailable.

Somewhere in there I had the crazy notion that perhaps I could bring the kids along? Maybe they would sit quietly and draw or color for the hour and a half of class? There was even an empty classroom, across the hall, where they could talk and play and not disturb my group.

Yeah well anyway....

They weren't bad but they didn't exactly stay put either. One member of the study group found the girls playing in the restroom and wondered who they belonged to.

*sigh*

That evening as I was putting them into bed and had their complete an undivided attention, I told them that I was disappointed in their behavior. I explained how it was embarrassing (a word they've been using more of lately in relation to their peers) when the woman from my group realized the restless and giggling children were mine.

Rose began to cry, "Mommy, I don't like you telling me this. What you're saying makes me feel really bad!"

I almost giggled. Isn't that the whole idea?!?

***

A few days later, I'd asked both children about something that had been emptied and put back into the refrigerator.

Neither one would speak up as to who had done this seemingly harmless thing.

Then I noticed a slight half-grin on the face of my adorable 5-year-old, Grace.

"Grace, honey, are you lying to Mommy?"

Her eyes widened, "Well Mommy, I didn't want to get in trouble!"

I explained that what happened was such a little thing. It was nothing more than an opportunity for me to teach her what to do when a container is emptied.

But I had to continue to explain that lying is a very bad choice. As I explained this to her, she began wailing, "Mommy, you're making me feel soooo bad!!"

***

When Rose was just a toddler, I was introduced to a parenting technique called Love and Logic. I remember thinking it was brilliant because it, in effect, separated the child from their actions. It also taught that they were responsible for their actions, though not defined by them, and that there are consequences.

It was during that time that I learned the term, "sad choice".

Instead of saying to my child, "You are a very bad girl for lying or disobeying", which is how they probably feel, I emphasize that they simply made a "sad choice".

A choice whose consequences make you feel sad.

Though I've used that term for over 6 years now, I think they're finally understanding it. I think they're finally comprehending that lying or disobeying makes Mommy speak up and when Mommy points it out, then they feel sad.

They are actually realizing, FINALLY, that their actions affect others and that, in turn, might make them feel bad.

Now to have them actually realize the effect of these choices before they decide their actions.

One step at a time...

Sometimes I feel a little....

(or Alanis' remake!)




But somehow, despite it all, Rascal sits quietly, listening to me and says,

"Baby, I think it takes you awhile to process things... but really, I think you just want to be heard. I think you need to talk it out for yourself OUT LOUD. I hope you know that I will always be here to give that to you."

And then I feel a whole helluva lot less alone. And definitely less insane.

An Examination of Marriage: Why?

What reasons do I have for marriage anyway, other than the conventional societal expectations of a mother and a father in a household filled with children?

When I examine the idea of marriage, especially compared to what I have now, I have to ask myself: What will I gain?

It feels better than "What will I lose?".

To quote from Elizabeth Gilbert's book, Committed:

"I do not need this man in almost any of the ways that women have needed men over the centuries. I do not need him to protect me physically, because I live in one of the safest societies on earth.

I do not need him to provide for me financially, because I have always been the winner of my own bread.

I do not need him to extend my circle of kinship, because I have a rich community of friends and neighbors and family all on my own.

I do not need him to give me the critical social status of "married woman," because my culture offers respect to unmarried women.

I do not need him to father my children,....so where does that leave us?

Why do I need this man at all?

I need him only because I happen to adore him, and because his company brings me gladness and comfort, and because, as a friend's grandfather once put it:

'Sometimes life is too hard to be alone, and sometimes life is too good to be alone.'."

Yet... unfortunately...

"It is only love. And a love based marriage does not guarantee a life-long binding contract...

By unnerving definition, anything that the heart has chosen for it's own mysterious reasons it can always unchoose later - again, for its own mysterious reasons. And a shared private heaven can quickly descend into a failed private hell."

It is frightening to consider that love may not offer a guarantee in marriage. Especially when I look at our differences and what all could go wrong. I've lived it. I've seen it. I've felt it. And I've, by the grace of God, survived it.

"In the end, it seems to me that forgiveness may be the only realistic antidote we are offered in love to combat the inescapable disappointments of intimacy."

Realistically, the only thing I can look forward to, when and if I do enter into the institution (why do we call it that? as if we should be donning straight jackets?!) of marriage again, are many more opportunities and lessons of forgiveness. And I think I'm OK with that.

After all, we're all imperfect beings, aren't we? Imperfect beings who long for nothing more than for someone to love us anyway.

"Don't expect your spouse to be perfect. Remember if they were, they might not have married you."
~ Gary Chapman

An Examination of Marriage: Putting all of my proverbial eggs in one proverbial basket

As I examine my fears surrounding the idea of marriage, I recall the first few months of my previous marriage.

We'd purchased a home, further out than where I had lived for well over 3 years. I knew not a single person in the area where I now resided.

My friends, once by the multitude, had stopped calling. I suppose they assumed I was living in wedded bliss with my new husband. Unfortunately, he was a traveling businessman and was gone from even before our marriage began.

I was married. Yes.

And I was excruciatingly lonely.

***

When I consider marriage to Rascal, not only would I be committing to this wonderful man, I would more than likely be uprooting my family and moving 3 hours from a place where I've lived for more than 20 years.

My family is here.

My friends are here.

My children's family and friends are here.

I think my concern for all of us would be loneliness. My daughters would see their father less often and extra efforts would be made for them to spend longer periods of time with him. We would gain new friends, of course. I would certainly reconnect with family and friends around the town where Rascal lives - I did grow up there.

But what if... again with the what if's....

If I uproot all of us, change my life, OUR lives, lose friends, move on, then I am, in effect, putting everything into one man.

The thought of this terrifies me to my very core.

I did that before and was left standing alone, post divorce, wondering why I depended on the institution and vows of marriage to begin with.

It seems that just as divorces scares friends away, marriage does the same thing.

Perhaps, I'm considering how that change would feel. I would most certainly adore being around a new combined family of Rascal, his children and my children. However, I have more than myself to think of. There is also a big part of me that would like to maintain my network of friends, my identity as "T" and all that goes with it.

My network of friends... these people in my life... they are here for me. They are my support system. Each of them take turns providing me with love and support when Rascal can't. I've even taken special care that I don't depend on Rascal for everything. I've done that before. It simply... doesn't work. All of those expectations to be my "everything" is too much pressure on my partner and will obviously leave me feeling disappointed.

Yet, both of us struggle with this.

He knows that he cannot be my "everything". We both recognize this from the aspect of being married before and also from a relationship maturity level. I do, however, think that a part of him wants to be. He knows that he cannot be here to give love and support all of the time. I know this too. This is why I have others to lean on and spend time with. And yet, a part of me wishes that he could be. And a part of him doesn't like that I have to depend on others.

As long as we're long distance, I naturally maintain a separate identity, separate friends, and separate life from him. We're integrating slowly over time and distance.

Being together, in the same house, CHANGE.... still feels like a stranglehold but it is, with each day, gradually loosening its grip.

I'm so afraid of falling into past patterns of expectation.

I also wonder if this is why, prior to Rascal, I was beginning to feel more comfortable with the idea of "friends with benefits" or "polyamory". If I spread my love and my legs (pardon the expression) for more than one person, I could always have a back up plan in case someone failed to pull through for me.

What a ridiculous and most selfish notion, isn't it?

(For the record, I am so thankful for a blog in which to process all of these thoughts. Putting it "out there" is really helping me to evaluate my own fears, concerns and utter selfishness.)