Sue's Muse

My Life as Metaphor

 

“We should probably all pause to confront our past from time to time,

because it changes its meaning as our circumstances alter.”

~Karen Armstrong in A Spiral Staircase

 

Some time ago, I wrote that my life was like a incomplete jigsaw puzzle with some pieces likely lost forever. I was reacting to news of my mother’s seeming deception about the fact that I had a sister I’d never known about. It was hurtful and puzzling and I was not happy about it. I felt that she’d somehow short-changed me, that she never really shared herself with me. She was gone and I would probably never find the answers I sought. All of that was true.

 That being said, I’ve come to a point where that old metaphor no longer suits me, or my life as it is today. If I hang on to that image, my life will never be complete—there will always be something missing. I will be somehow incomplete, and I find that I don’t like that image at all.

 What else fits? I wondered. I decided to think about it for awhile as I tackled the project of straightening out my yarn and embroidery floss collection. I love to crochet, knit and do counted cross-stitch.

 With the latter, I always feel as though I’m “painting” on blank fabric when I start, following a chart and ending up with a lovely piece of needlework. Sometimes I change a color or type of floss, to make it more to my liking. Thinking back to when I was a cross-stitch novice, I was still in the perfectionist stage of my life. Any misplaced of uncrossed stitch caused me to rip out rows of work to fix, a real agonizing task. Then came the day I had a piece finished and ready to frame when I noticed two errors. I was so upset, muttering to myself. My husband came in and asked what was wrong. I practically threw the fabric at him—“It’s ruined, there are two huge errors, and it was supposed to be for Deb’s birthday day after tomorrow.”

 Harold took the fabric, examined it from every angle, upside down and front and back. “I honestly can’t see anything wrong.”

 “Seriously?” I asked.

 “Seriously, I think this is one of the best pieces you’ve ever done. Let’s get it framed.”

 “Hold it up so I can see it again. Closer…now turn it to the light. Hold the frame up to it.” Trying as hard as I could to find them, from a normal viewing distance the “huge” errors were invisible, even to me. Well…

 Maybe I could be like that piece of embroidery. I knew there were errors, just as I knew my life had errors—missing pieces of information that had always made me feel less than complete. But, I reasoned, if the embroidery was looked at as a whole, it was a lovely picture, worthy of being a gift to a cherished friend.

 How could I be any less? Missing pieces, known only to me, could diminish me only if I let them. I didn’t have the option, however painful, of ripping things out and starting again. I am what I am. And you know what, taken as a whole, I’m pretty darned good. I’m worthy in my own right, a person worth knowing, worth having as a friend, worth my own admiration and my own approval. Just like my cross-stitch!

 

 

 

Peculiar Profession

This past Sunday, due to the generosity of our son-in-law Nathan, we attended the Wings Over Houston Air Show. It was a great show, super companions, and perfect weather--with amazing displays of aviation history, aviation skill and aviation capabilities.

It was inspiring to see some of the planes and helicopters now used to support our troops abroad--and may all that power somehow be used to achieve peace and not prolong war. The pilots are highly skilled and ready to go at a moment's notice. Their sacrifices for country and freedom are more admirable than I can say.

The Navy's Blue Angels were phenomenal. The skill and precision with which they fly these enormous pieces of machinery just defies description. I suppose with wars going on, one might think this sort of display flying is frivolous, but I would disagree. I think it's kind of an "in your face" audacious demonstration of the capability and power of our excellently trained military. Any one of those pilots could no doubt be combat ready in an instant. Again, I hope and pray the US military never has to use all of its power anywhere. I also believe these guys are a source of pride to their comrades. And, I'd bet the "other guys" are watching, hoping they never have to come up against any troops like the Angels.

There were the fun things--a flying lawnmower, worth a laugh or two--and the amazing stunt flying. The latter is such a display of skill and dexterity that it boggles the mind. All the stalls and rolls and spirals and dives are impressive and heart-stopping. Surely these pilots are only moments and inches from disaster but they do this day in and day out. Their expertise is unquestionable--it's their common sense/sanity that defies my  understanding.

There was one display of skill and bravery--and total insanity (as I see it) that was "above" them all. There  is a diminutive woman who spends her weekends walking on the top wing of a biplane. High in the air, with only a metal stanchion to hang onto, this woman dances and waves and does head-stands, while the pilot maneuvers the plane through flips and dives and spirals. Why? A need for excitement? A challenge? It is entertaining to watch, but seriously, I can't imagine getting up in the morning and as I brush my teeth, anticipate another day of walking on the wing of a plane. I don't like getting up and anticipating my job, but I don't defy death and gravity every day (except maybe on my commute to and from work!). Guess it just goes to show that it takes all kinds of jobs for all kinds of people. It does make the world interesting.

From your perspective, what's the most peculiar profession you've encountered?

Nature's Mysterious Ways

This is not a serious thought-provoking post. However, it is, I think, interesting.

As Harold brought in groceries for me to put away earlier today, he set down a new bag of potatoes. Normally, I put them in their storage basket and go on. Today, though, something caught my eye--literally the largest single potato I've ever seen. Didn't even think this was possible. So I took a picture of it surrounded by its bag-mates.

Then I thought to myself--self, for all anyone else knows, that could be a baking potato surrounded by baby potatoes. Something more convincing, more graphic is needed. So, I needed to take another picture that would be more convincing. Some comparisons of relative size are called for here. So off I went for more props and set up yet another photo shoot. What do you think?

That's the can of Diet Coke I was ready to open, a regular dinner fork and my trusty tape measure (which I now note I didn't place quite correctly). Folks, this spud is 11" long! It weighs about 4 pounds. Anyone real hungry for a baked potato?

Is this a freak of Nature, or one of its miracles? Guess it depends on how you look at it. I prefer the latter myself.

My profession is to always find God in nature.

                                                                     - Henry David Thoreau   

Being Married and other challenges

Having recently celebrated anniversary #41, the enduring aspect of our marriage was the topic of questions from a younger co-worker.  First comment was that "no one" stays married that long these days.  Next, in a puzzled tone, she asked "But wasn't it hard?"

Hard?  Of course it was hard.  I told her so.  "Why did you stay? Marriage shouldn't be hard, it shouldn't be work. It should be...fun, you know, enjoyable."

How can a thinking person not know it would be "hard" to live beside another human being for over 40 years?  It wouldn't have to be a spouse.  It could be any person with whom you share a relationship.  Any good relationship takes work: effort, time and a fierce commitment to make it work.

Work is probably the key word here. Effort, time, understanding, concessions, and compromises; not to mention maintaining perspective, developing and keeping a sense of humor, forgiving, talking, learning to be together, remembering to be yourself, sharing a common space, listening, sharing a bathroom, sharing a bed, sharing the remote, talking, synchronizing your internal clocks, having some common goals and dreams, hanging on to personal goals and dreams, listening, talking, listening, being comfortable together even without talking.  And I've left lots out of this list, I'm sure.

Relationships that grow require nurturing, as does anything that grows and flourishes.  If you think about it like a garden, envision what happens when weeds grow.  They can either choke out the tender young plants (your new relationship) or they can be pulled up by their roots before they do any damage.  Problems need to be dealt with, even if it's not all fun and enjoyable as my younger friend wished.  It's that work and commitment thing again.

We've worked hard on this relationship, I suspect we'll always be doing that.  It's easier than it used to be.  We didn't come into this with an instruction book.  We didn't even come into with real good examples.  Harold's mother died when he was a baby.  His dad remarried and divorced several times after that.  My parents were like two strangers living uncomfortably in the same place--now it would be called a dysfunctional marriage.  I just knew I didn't want anything like it. We were basically self-taught. We were blessed that we had friends and mentors with strong marriages, folks who were open and loving and supportive to an awkward new couple trying to make their way in life.  And we just kept on trying, kept on working at it, kept on loving.

Will there be disagreements?  Anger?  Frustration?  Of course.  If there are two thinking breathing humans living together, they will never agree 100% of the time; they will have bad days; they will make bad choices.  Been there, done that.

I'm reminded of something Mrs Billy Graham said and I'm sure I'm paraphrasing.  When asked if she'd ever considered divorce, she said "Divorce, no. Murder, yes!"  Yes, my friend, it can be difficult.

Is it worth it?  I know everyone has to decide that for him- or herself.  For me, even given our current difficult circumstances (which I've addressed in previous posts), even given times of anger and hurt, even given times of grief and loss, times of weeping and not talking, the answer is yes.

Yes, because the good times far outweigh the bad.  Yes, because we've shared some wonderful adventures.  Yes, because we raised two beautiful daughters that came from us.  Yes, because we want to grow old together.  Yes, because there is nothing better than when it "works".

Yes, because when we look at the future, we see it together.  We still won't always agree, we'll still have bad days, but we're on this life journey together, moving towards whatever is there together.  Just today a friend shared something that just fits the point I'm trying to make.  My friend read this Antoine De Saint-Exupery quote in an Anne Morrow Lindbergh book:

"Life has taught us that love does not consist in gazing at each other but in looking outward together in the same direction"

Worth it?  Oh yes, my young friend, a resounding yes!  Because, you see, in the end, I simply cannot imagine my life without Harold in it.

Letting Go...of What?

Two occurrences yesterday started my thinking of my current work and financial situation. I brought work home with me to do over the weekend, and I read a review of The Year I Saved My (downsized) Soul by Carol Orsborn. 

Now I've been told that having so much work to do, and running always behind are signs of job security.  I suppose in today's job market that's something to be grateful for.  Still, I'd like to be able to live like job security isn't all that important.  Unfortunately, it seems right now to be vital. I always believed before this present crisis that my faith and beliefs would keep me secure, but now...today I reread this passage in the Bible:

"God gives such beauty to everything that grows in the fields, even though it is here today and thrown into a fire tomorrow. He will surely do even more for you! Why do you have such little faith? Don't worry and ask yourselves, "Will we have anything to eat? Will we have anything to drink? Will we have any clothes to wear?" Only people who don't know God are always worrying about such things. Your Father in heaven knows that you need all of these."
(Matthew 6:30-32 CEV)

Have I lost my faith?  I hope not; I pray not.  But I am struggling: still I know that God takes my questions and my doubts in stride. I do worry, worry that we'll ever see the end of the bills and the living paycheck to paycheck.  These don't seem like such little things.  I don't want to just whine about our circumstances.  I'd like them to change.  So, since working at home is overtime, I try to accept the loss of weekend freedom with some grace.  Not doing so well at that though.

What else can I do?  That's where the book comes in.  Downsizing?  Can I (we) do that?  Of course I (we) can.  It's just that when I think of what to give up, even for a goal of more financial leeway, I struggle with that too.  Maybe I feel like I've already given up too much--my SUV, going out to eat, taking trips, shopping for clothes and for fun, attending classes and workshops, etc.  Then I begin to feel guilty about being selfish.  None of those things are essential to life, are they?  I do have enough to eat, I have plenty of clothes and I still buy the occasional book (usually at bargain prices).

I also miss the spontaneity of going out on a whim.  Instead we have to consider each act carefully--if we eat out today, will it cause us not to be able to pay something due tomorrow?  I balance the checkbook almost nightly.  Yes, I'm complaining. I seem to do a lot of that of late.

Back to downsizing.  What am I willing to forgo, to relinquish?  OK, this is tough.  We have so much "stuff" that I'd love to get rid of, but that would only unclutter the place; it wouldn't be financial gain.  Let me think...  Internet--never!  iPhone--never!  Computer--never!  Cable TV--on most days, most assuredly, but then I'd have a war with Harold. Could I (we) live in a smaller, less expensive place--probably (but see reference to "stuff").  I'm still thinking... Can't give up cell phone.  We don't have a land line. Think...think some more...

But I'm being disingenuous. Of course, there are ways to save and downsize.  I have only to look at that check register I balance nightly.  DIdn't someone say you could tell what is important to a person by observing what he/she spends money on? Too much junk food, too many "let's just stop for a Coke" times, too many (ouch) entries to Amazon.  I can cook, we have things to drink at home and we live a few miles from a small library and not too many more from a big one.  These would all be small steps, but they would be a start. Part of it, I think, is just being aware and being deliberate.  Ok, so maybe I should have learned that earlier in life (there's a story there to be sure), but I can do it now going forward. 

Changing habits is hard, but hard times demand sacrifice.  It occurs to me that I've never really had to do that.  When we had enough money, I didn't think much about it.  Now I have to re-evaluate what enough really is.  I'll admit it--it's tough.  I've always enjoyed spending money, on myself and especially on others.  Now I find myself a counter of pennies.

Financially, we'll have to set new goals.  I will have to work for a while yet before I can retire.  That's reality.  Perhaps another goal is to change the way I think and react to all of this.  There's another passage from one of the Wisdom books in the Bible.  I can start by downsizing my worries and fears.

"Better one handful with tranquility
than two handfuls with toil
and chasing after the wind." (Ecclesiastes 4:6)

What about you?  Are you struggling in this recession?  Are you having to cut back?  Visit again--we'll go down that road together.

Pride, Principles and Practicality

My friend wants to quit his job.  His pride has been deeply wounded, for he is a man who takes pride in his work.  More than that, his integrity has been questioned and that stabs his soul even more profoundly.  He feels that his boss no longer has confidence in him. That we all know he has been wrongfully accused is not much balm for his injuries. He truly does not feel he can stay under the circumstances. 

I wonder if he has considered the consequences should he quit. 

He would be missed, for he has befriended all of his co-workers. His humor and caring brighten many a day. His work would be missed because not only does he have a talent for what he does, he also harbors knowledge held only in his mind.  It is the knowledge that comes from doing a job well for a long time, owning it, making it yours, and doing it with the ease of experience.

As crass as it may be to consider, he would suffer financial consequences.  In this economy, it would be difficult to find another position with the salary and benefits he's accrued. He could lose his house, and he and his wife want to start a family. He helps support several other family members as well.  Can he afford to act on principle, or must he be practical?  I don't know what he will decide.

What does one do when pride, principles and practicality clash?

My husband and I once quit a job over principles.  We felt like our ethical beliefs would be compromised if we stayed.  Practically, it was a horrible choice.  And, we've had few days in the interim when we haven't wondered if we should have stayed and fought for what we believed.  Perhaps if we'd stayed, some minds would have been changed, but we'll never know.  That's a hollow victory. We may have escaped with our principles intact, though in retrospect, I'd have to say it was likely our pride that also took part of the prize. We didn't want to be wrong, and so we left it in the hands of those who we believed to be in the wrong. It's not that all pride is bad.  Pride in a job well executed with integrity is a good quality, as is pride in standing up for what you believe in.  But pride does have its costs. All choices have costs.

I've always known that this same conundrum caused my husband to quit his last job.  While unintended, it was this decision landed us in the financial mess we're in. Was he right, justified?  Probably.  Not long ago, he was somewhat vindicated when his nemesis, the reason for his resignation, which had been fueled by both principle and pride, was escorted off the property under guard.  It hasn't changed our current circumstances, except to reinforce our belief, our hope, that right does win out in the end.  That's worth something...no, that's worth a lot

Facing the same choices together, I tend to the practical side and he toward the principles.  Does that make him impractical and me unprincipled?  Not at all. After forty+ years of marriage, we balance one another.  We hold our beliefs dear, consider them of paramount importance.  Through this rough stretch, we've both learned ways to be practical that we had never had need of before.  Life is a series of lessons, a path of growth. If, as we believe, we are where we are at this point in time for a reason, it is only right when we learn and grow from each experience.  Sometimes we make mistakes, and sometimes mistakes are us making what we thought to be the best choice at the time given our options.  I believe that to be the case with the job we've since regretted leaving.  Mistakes are a great teacher. If we glean some bit of knowledge, some grain of understanding from a past error, it was not made in vain.  Life goes on; growth happens. 

I don't know what my friend will decide.  He's younger, has less life experience, but he has a good heart and a good head on his shoulders.  That counts for a lot.  And, he has his friends, lots of us. I think he'll be OK.

Why Start Again?

I've had a blog, but basically I've ignored it.  Don't know if I was being lazy, or just didn't feel like talking.  I suspect it was some of both.  But something is changing.  More than ever, I feel the need to write, to express myself, to explore areas of my life too long ignored.  Now, I don't know how much of that intimate stuff I'll be sharing here, but I am sure that I'll find some things to say here.  No one has ever accused me of not having anything to say.

I'll tell you about new books I'm reading and share reviews I'm writing.  There are some interesting people in my life and you'll no doubt meet them.  And my (our) dog Sir Ryan MacDuff of Alvin--he'll be here too.

This is a new day.  Every day is.  Second chances abound.  New people come into our lives.  I want to learn to celebrate every day, every person.

Old friends pass away, new friends appear. It is just like the days. An old day passes, a new day arrives. The important thing is to make it meaningful: a meaningful friend - or a meaningful day.  (Dalai Lama)

So, I'll see you here!