Drinking my own kool-aid

Most of the time, I'm really there. I typically don't "struggle" anymore, although I have my moments, and I know we largely create what happens to us. I own that I'm responsible for my experience. Certainly, at least, for how I react or respond to my circumstances.

Sunset over Shilshole Bay and the Olympic Mountains -
this always makes me happy, and helps me remember that life is much, much
bigger than just me, and there's way more at play.

And then, there's today. Today, I feel less than, uninspired, frustrated, not very hopeful, and even irritated. Life feels a little hard. I'm not feeling very happy. 

So, it happens. 

It happens to all of us. But I'm not my feelings, and life just is. I trust the tools I've gathered and nurtured over the years will get me through this. I do know this too shall pass.

What I also know is when I feel like this, it's often because I'm sitting with some ambiguity and clarity is not forthcoming. Something is weighing... a choice or decision needs to be considered, I'm unsettled, I'm not ready to go there. I am feeling both physically and emotionally challenged. Typically, I've learned to be comfortable with being uncomfortable... I largely embrace change.  

And then, there's today. 

  

Today, I will sip my own kool-aid. I will try to keep "struggle" from my vocabulary and remember that life just is. I am in the fortunate position to largely make choices that support me. I will ponder and drink, even though right now it tastes a little bittersweet. 

Are you struggling? Change your language

I'm really struggling right now.

Struggle, or a variation, is a word I often say to myself when I'm challenged, frustrated, unhappy or when something isn't working the way I think it should. And I hear it a lot from others in conversations when we talk about how we're doing.

Mirriam-Webster defines struggle as something very hard that takes great effort. 

Life is hard. 

Unless it isn't. 

It isn't hard for everyone, but I for much of my life I believed it was, indeed, hard. I often wondered why some people had it so easy. It even made me angry. It didn't seem fair. (Sometimes it still doesn't...)

While some are blessed by circumstances, in large part, we each have a hand in creating our circumstances. Whatever they may be. Again, as in previous posts, I make this disclaimer: I am referring to those of us in the western world who are fortunate to be of sound mind. I know there are exceptions to everything and I have great compassion for those who really do struggle.   

And... 

For so much of my life, per the description by Mirriam-Webster, life was hard and took great effort. I've shared a bit of my story before (likely with more to come, but that's another story...): I'm the only child of an unwed mother, my father died when I was just two and my paternal family was MIA; I've lost countless family members, experienced plenty of dysfunction, victimization and had limited access to resources - these experiences and even more, my stories about them, defined and drove me.

Life just is... 

And at some point, I learned: Life isn't hard. Life just is. My perception, my story about it, makes it hard. Realistically, it's not hard or easy, not good or bad. It's whatever I make it. If I look for evidence that it's hard, it is, and I collected a lot of that evidence. And I attracted it, created it, because it's what I'm used to. Not because it's what I want - let me be clear. But if that's what I've experienced, I have no road map for something different.

Yet now I know, as an adult, I can and do make choices. I don't have to be defined by that background. Yes, it shaped my view about so much, and it offered me perspective and gave me empathy... and, so much of what I knew to be true really wasn't. My interpretations, my beliefs about life... "Life is hard" was a generations-old story that I adopted as my own; it was a way of being that I could change. It didn't have to be true for me anymore unless I wanted it to be. 

I could choose to struggle, or thrive. 

I'm not saying it's easy, or that it's the be all / end all to changing your life, but something as simple as changing our language can have a big impact. 

I challenged myself to remove the word struggle from my vocabulary, and instead of describing my relationship to my situation as a struggle, I more clearly define what I'm feeling and experiencing. Once I clearly identify what's really going on, I have more power to take action and do something about it. 

...I'm having a hard time grasping how to do this. ...I'm feeling really hurt right now. ...I'm frustrated by the current dynamic I'm experiencing at work. ...I feel stagnant creatively. ...I can't figure this out.  

I have said this in previous posts: Words matter. Whether it's the language we use in our self-talk, or when speaking out loud to others, words have an impact. They're shortcuts to feelings, reactions and responses, beliefs. If we can choose empowering words, we can impact what we experience.

No. more. struggle. 

Don't believe me? Try it for a week or a month. Experiment. What words are automatic to you? Are they words that help or hinder your circumstances? If they hinder, try trading those for something more desirable. 

We're all familiar with our inner critic. This is an aspect of that critic. Change our language, and we have more power to shift our experience. 

Ultimately, I believe we're here to learn and grow and contribute in meaningful ways. It's hard to contribute our best selves if we're always struggling. Some of us just have a few pre-requisites to master before we get there.  

Self-care: Colds suck

A quick post tonight. I kind of made a promise to myself to write more frequently - say, every two weeks, minimum, but here it is three weeks since my last post.

Not wont to make excuses, it's been a tough couple of weeks. Lots of things wayyy out of the ordinary happening at work, and acquired a nasty little cold in the middle of it which makes minimum functionality challenging at times.

My arsenal (in part)

So every chance I get, I aim to do something that helps me get well more quickly. For example, I:

• Ingest herbs, vitamins and probiotics: goldenseal root and olive leaf tinctures, some mix of stuff I get at the health food store, adding A & C and doubling D and zinc, and probiotic caps along with kefir and kombucha (tea and coffee actually count, too)
• Rinse my sinus cavities with a warm saline solution: I use a glass container the size of a large mason jar to mix my salt and water, because really, what's the point of a miniscule netipot?  
• Drink lots of liquids: my wellness tonic, water, tea, coffee (though diuretic, caffeinated beverages are still liquids and help hydrate)
• Skip the sugar (mostly; today I succumbed to snickerdoodles made by our new person at work)
• Eat good food (my go-to sick food used to be Campbell's chicken noodle soup, but I gave that up. I've since found Wolfgang Puck's organic version; I also picked up a roasted organic chicken at Whole Foods so I don't have to cook)
• Steam clean my head - in the shower, and over the stove, with a towel over my head and a pot of steaming water with eucalyptus or tea tree oil
• And from childhood - Vicks VapoRub smeared on my chest at bedtime (eau de Vicks is a lovely scent... not, but it does offer some comfort in the olfactory memory)

That first day or two, I found myself empathizing with those who actually have a lung disease (my mom and a dear friend being two). Of course, there's no real comparison, but it occurred to me just how awful that really must be, because even this felt a little like hell. My throat felt fiery and my chest felt like it was underwater and full of sand.

But after those first coupl'a days, I saw incremental improvement. Despite extra stress, I think my tactics worked; some people I know have had this thing for weeks. They can have it. I'm done. It's no magic bullet, but I hate being sick and believe my body lets me know what it needs to be well, and has, largely, what it takes to get there.  

So there you have it. I haven't written but I will revisit this unstated (this time) commitment and aim for regular posts beginning... soon. 

Onward.

Update 4/5/15 - Cold symptoms went away quickly, except for a cough - which could also be related to allergies; we're full-on into spring now and I react to weeds and grass. Dang cough. Anyway, I still stand by my process outlined above, as I do tend to stay generally healthy when others around me are fighting illness. 

Breaking bad habits

A sea of blossoms viewed from the top of

Carkeek Park's South Ridge trail.  

I fidget. I can't sit still, I slide around in my chair, twirl my hair, run my fingers through it, tug at my lips... I even sometimes twiddle my thumbs. I have done these things or a variation all my life. It makes one friend anxious. I make myself a little crazy.

I also shop. Out of boredom. For comfort. I consider this a habit now, too. I associate shopping and having new clothes, in particular, with being loved, left over from childhood. I love fashion and at times consider style a part of my creative expression, but really... While I don't stand a chance next to The Shopaholic, nor am I anywhere near a contender for Hoarders, shop therapy played a big role when I moved to Vancouver, and even more, post-divorce, as a way to feel less isolated. What started as a coping mechanism became a bad habit. Now it's a go-to when I feel alone, even if it's just window-shopping.


...Change is, well... change is.


I woke up this morning thinking about change, largely because there's a lot going on at work and I'm currently focused on change management. I read and write almost every morning, and today, reading about the placebo effect on health, the fog I've been in for the last two weeks finally lifted. It became clear that it was time to refocus, to be intentional about what I want in my own life, and make some changes again (change seems to be a theme of this blog).

My old house has rooms and closets
built for 1907 lifestyles, so I make-do
with shelving and baskets.

I'm starting small while I give more thought to the bigger changes ahead. I am tired of operating by rote, tired of these habits. Fidgeting burns a few calories, but it's irritating, to me and others. And shopping for material goods I don't need takes time, energy and funds away from more important endeavors, and goes a little against my environmentalist grain. I have enough.

It's spring, or nearly, and a good time to make a shift. 

How?

Good question. Some of these are so ingrained it'll take serious conscious effort (as I write, I find my fingers at my lips or in my hair...). I may have to exchange a habit or two for the short term. And... 

• Awareness is the critical first step, followed by a willingness to make change. Followed by continuous re-commitment to this. 
• I'll set some rewards and some boundaries - I'm not yet sure what these are since this is still a new plan. 
• I will at times take it moment by moment, and not chastise myself when I screw up - just note it and start over. 
• I will put sticky notes around to remind myself of what I want instead. 
• Maybe add a calendar appointment in my phone as a daily reminder.
• I will continually ask myself what I want my life to look like and what's most important. 

I'm not aiming for perfection and I'm grateful I don't have worse habits to break. I think my only current addiction is caffeine - which I learned of when I got my first-ever withdrawal headache last fall after a day without coffee.

...I have much more empathy.  

But these are hard for me, and in some ways, it's a test. They may seem innocuous, but they aren't - they impact how I'm perceived, and in some ways even how I feel about myself. It bugs me that I succumb to these. They are habits, not conscious actions, and consequently, they "run" me (to borrow from Landmark's Forum; they're in control).

My mom was a self-proclaimed "creature of habit," and while I loved my mother, I choose not to emulate her. I have quit smoking, and stopped many other unhealthy behaviors. I have changed my language when it made more sense to speak differently. I stopped saying "um" and using other fillers. I have created good habits, like daily journal writing and exercise. I have changed how and what I eat.

I've read it takes anywhere from 21 - 30 days to break an old or instill a new habit, depending on the complexity (I've also read some take much longer). So I'll aim to be patient with myself. I do believe it's possible to change even these insidious quirks. I will report back. And please, by all means, share your habit-breaking tips, ideas and successes in the comments.

Updates
- Day one update: It helps to say to myself, "I'm choosing to stop this."
- Day two observation: Identified that, 1) I have the desire to do this and, 2) I believe I can do this. - So far, so good!
- Day three insight: I'm not sure I would call this hard... but it requires constant diligence. I am impressively habitual.
- Three weeks later: Still doing great with the fidgeting part. It's not always easy; I think about it frequently. But I am not acting on those thoughts. Shopping, well, a slip... Not a big slip, just a little slip. And gave myself a cash limit. So it was a conscious slip, too. Ah well. Onward. It's been a trying couple of weeks, to say the least. Starting anew each day. 

Busting up some aging myths

The perils of aging are largely myths.

"What makes people believe they don't have any power or control over what happens to them?" Forrest asked as we were chatting about older friends and family who are dealing with health challenges. We realized we were somewhat confounded by how little some of us seem to know and understand about our own health.

It struck me that we grow up conditioned to think that aging is negative, a bad thing. We learn:

• We'll get sick. 
• Our bones get weak. 
• Bodies give out. 
• Things break. 
• We won't be as vibrant. 
• Sex lives wane. 
• Memories fade. 

And so many more.
We accept them as fact.
We don't question.

Stuff happens, some of it preventable, some not, but either way, it doesn't mean we're without power to have an impact. So here are a few thoughts, as I consider my own journey.

We are not our genetics.

That list above? Not necessarily true... We are not our genetics, although we can be if we believe we are and act accordingly.

We can influence what happens to us, and what we believe and how we act can make all the difference. It's not to say they won't happen; as we age, the odds of developing ailments increases. We can't control all of our environmental influences.

Yet there is much within our control. Beliefs matter.

We are what we eat. 

The old adage, "we are what we eat," is actually pretty true. If we put junk in our bodies, we feel ... well, like junk.

What we consume makes a difference, no matter what our age, but we might feel the impacts more as we get older, as we whittle away our defenses. So many illnesses or conditions are considered preventable and are now linked to diet - Alzheimer's, diabetes, heart disease, to name just a few... Food also has a huge impact on brain function, how we feel emotionally and how much energy and strength we have. A few insights:

• Sugar - any type of sugar - contributes largely to inflammation, which is the root cause of many disorders and diseases. 
• Processed food is full of sugar and various chemicals (thousands of untested additives are on the FDA approved list for use in food!), and generally, the western diet is highly processed. 
• Sugar substitutes are even worse. Sodas, any type, are not helpful. Try sparkling water with a splash of juice, some bitters, or herbs for a refreshing alternative and to stay sufficiently hydrated.
• As so many food experts now advocate, and to paraphrase Michael Pollan, as I often do, eat real food, not too much, mostly plants. 
• Simple carbs like white flour or white rice are stripped of fiber and nutrients and quickly turn to sugar once ingested. A better option is whole grain; even better, the ancient grains. Grains in any form should be a small part of our diets; make sure your breads or cereals have just a few ingredients and you know what they are. 
• Potatoes and other starchy foods get a bad wrap, but they're actually nutrient dense. Add a little butter or sour cream and you're golden. Just eat sparingly. 
• Fat is good. Well, good fats are good. Fat is satisfying and helps our bodies use many of our vitamins.
• Lastly, conventional agriculture is pesticide- and antibiotic-heavy. If you can, know your producers, buy from a farmers market, shop the organic section or make smart purchases using the Clean 15 / Dirty Dozen lists.  

Use it or lose it...

While the research and thinking around exercise continues to change (how much, how often, how intense), the importance of moving our bodies has not. To thrive, we need to be active.

Sitting is one of the worst things we can do, and from my own experience, know it causes all kinds of less-than-fun discomforts. There's evidence now it can even shorten our lives, and certainly it contributes to countless ailments.

Sitting too much keeps me from running - temporarily (sing it: the hip bone's connected to the thigh bone... or a version there-of, in my case, sitting caused limited range of motion in my hips, underachieving glutes, overactive calves and impossibly tight Achilles tendons in both feet).

It's never too late to start moving. But if you haven't moved your body for a while, it's best to start slow. Yoga or stretching, strength and balance exercises, coupled with standing desks if you have a desk job are all essential to bone, muscle, mental and even emotional health.

     And then there's style...

I have no interest in getting old. That said, as we all are, I am aging. There's a big difference between old and aging. Unless I want to pay a small fortune, I can't do much about my sagging jaw line, but I don't have to look old, either. Good style never goes out of date.

Cosmetics, used strategically, dressing appropriately for your lifestyle (but throw away those "how to dress at any age" guides, especially if they tell you to change your style based on your age), and an updated hair style just feel good. I intend to stay relevant even when I'm an advanced age, and personal style shows you 'get it.'

...And lastly, life-long learning

Don't ever lose your curiosity. Challenge yourself. Even as a teenager, I recognized the value of "being comfortable being uncomfortable" with a wall poster reminding me at every look.

Explore. 

Travel.

Ask questions. 

Read. 

These keep us vibrant, relevant and engaged. Be deliberate and intentional. We can learn and grow from everything and we're never too old to learn something new. Brain science is growing exponentially and none of it suggests that we have to lose capacity as we age.

As 'anonymous' once stated (I wish I knew who really said this), "Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty, well-preserved body, but rather to skid broadside, thoroughly used up, and loudly proclaiming, 'wow, what a ride.'"

(If you like inspiring quotes, here's a pretty good selection.)


While this is hardly a comprehensive list (I didn't even mention play, laughter, or spending time in nature; oh, and don't smoke...) to help you age gracefully - or disgracefully, if you prefer, I think it busts a few of those myths I grew up hearing. Hope they do that for you, too.

There's something to be said for scrappy and street smart

I'm definitely not a Pollyanna. I learned a lot the hard way. But early on, I developed the skills to do that. Given where I could be right now, I'm grateful to be where I actually am.

I'm right where I should be. Are you? 

I find the Pollyanna's of the world hard to be around. The naivete irritates me. Perhaps it's because I once wished I had an easier upbringing. Perhaps it's because I didn't.

I often lament my earlier years, say, from 12 onward. The years prior to that are all pretty blurry and largely remembered thanks to photos. I've said from the outside looking in, they look pretty good but reality isn't always as it seems.

But from 12 on, things got interesting. My history teacher, Mr. Kimball, once told me I wouldn't amount to anything (although he also said something about wasting my intelligence, so I guess he thought I was smart). Because of my loud mouth and feisty spirit (to be kind to myself), he suggested I join the debate team, but I wasn't interested.

My years in junior and high school were tough, during a tough time. Nearing the end of the cold war... Busing... Post-60s freedoms and all the confusions that went with them, especially for women...

Some of my school mates and I were wont to say after graduation, which I managed albeit barely, "We went to Handle-It School - we can handle anything." Whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger? Maybe...

Some of those early friends are doing well now. Some of my closest friends really aren't... or weren't, as they departed this mortal coil. But a tough beginning doesn't mean there's no hope or possibility. Sometimes it's a great foundation from which to build upon.

Hope, possibility, opportunity

My former step-daughter had a rough beginning. I worried a lot when she came to live with us. But now, she travels the world for work, is happily married, and often lives abroad. From the outside in, she has a good life.

When I left what I consider to be my first "real" job (as in, the start to a career rather than just a job), my boss wrote in my recommendation that I combined intellect with street smarts. I wasn't sure what to make of that, but I get it now. It took a while.

Me, December, 2014, Golden Gardens Park, Seattle

Being scrappy and street smart makes me a pretty decent human being, with skills to solve problems, contribute to a meaningful discussion, compromise, and get results. I "get" people and know how to maneuver in the world. I'm pragmatic, a realist, even while holding a lot of ideals about how I think things should be.

There's gold in them thar hills... (or, my 

guess is we're all in the right place, right now). 

If we can find the gold in the hands we're dealt, even if we're playing Cards Against Humanity, we can create something special toward a greater, better world.

Creating a fabulous year (when I'd rather be napping)

With a whirlwind of activity in December - year-end work tasks, holiday gatherings, shopping and gift giving, solstice celebrations and my birthday - I'm not always able to do the reflection and planning I hope to in December. But I get started by focusing my thoughts around current year successes and challenges, and hopes for new, different, better in the years ahead. What do I want my day-in, day-out to look like in the future? What do I keep or let go of? What were the lessons learned, and the opportunities to leverage from the year now closing? 

I recently wrote a post for LifeWise Oregon's HealthFeed about creating the life you desire, beyond setting immediate goals (or yikes... resolutions). If you'd like ideas or need tips to create your ideal life, you can find the post here. 

January is my month to coalesce the thinking that began in December into some sort of plan for the year(s) ahead. So while I'd rather be napping (and naps do have a very important role in self-care), I'm fine-tuning my vision and setting short- and long-term goals to get me there.  

Staying together: 18 tips for a thriving relationship

We've come a long way. What I thought would be a summer fling has grown into an 18-year (and counting) relationship.

Forrest and Laura, by artist friend
Teresa Waclawik, after visiting
us in Seattle, 1999.

He was young. A musician. I was divorced. Starting over.

I lived on the Canadian west coast. He was leaving Washington's Olympic Peninsula to return to the deep southeast, where he's from. By motorcycle.

He stayed at my place for Music West, Vancouver's then music conference and festival. We were two ships passing that weekend. But over dinner that last night, something clicked. He ran. I hid.

We saw each other a few more times before he crossed the country. Then we emailed. We hand-wrote letters. We had long conversations. We visited. For a year-and-a-half, we grew closer even in our distance. Then we landed in Seattle.

Forrest and Laura, May 18, 2014
at Willows Inn on Lummi Island.
Celebrating 18 years. 

That fateful dinner was the beginning of an adventure. Because we don't have a wedding date, we attribute May 18 as the day we set our intention to stay together.

I've read countless times that you won't always like or even love your partner, and it's true. While it isn't always easy, if you can weather the storms, the rewards are worth it.

Here's my list of 18 lessons learned - one for every year but in no particular order - to create an enduring relationship.

1. Laugh. Any way you can, as much as you can. Have fun. Be silly. Don't be afraid to look goofy. Then the difficult times become almost funny, as long as you're laughing together.
2. Get over yourself. Sure, we all want to be right. And, we all have filters that get projected onto our partners. Cliche' though it may be, recognize when you point a finger at your partner, there are four pointing back at you. Ask what's more important, being right or the relationship. 
3. Don't make assumptions. We created an "ass check" - a lighthearted way to check in with the other if one of us might be assuming something. The ass check also supports 1 & 2 above.
4. Chill. Another cliche', but don't sweat the small stuff. If 'improperly' squeezing the toothpaste tube is more than a minor annoyance, it might be a sign there's more going on under the surface.
5. Argue. Sometimes it's necessary. I used to think that disaster was upon us if we had a fight. But you're two different people and you're never going to agree on everything. Step away if it gets too heated, but be clear when you'll be back. And see #1 above; nothing diffuses an argument quicker than laughter. Inside jokes help; they both make you laugh and build intimacy.
   
6. Own your stuff. I am responsible for my emotions and actions. How he feels is his responsibility. Period. 
7. Talk. Even when it's uncomfortable. In fact, especially when it's uncomfortable. Be direct. Share feelings. Our partners aren't mind readers, even though they know us better than anyone else.
   
8. Give and take. You can't always have it your way. Know when it's important to compromise or concede. Sometimes doing something because you know it makes your partner happy is enough.
9. Dream. What do you want to create together? What kind of life do you want? Having shared dreams moves you forward, together. Having your own dreams makes you interesting... and helps you grow. 
10. Forgive. We've had some tough times. When we first landed in Seattle, I was depressed - my mom was ill, I had no job, and life looked grim. In 2009, his stress, lack of coping skills and unhealthy habits led to a meltdown. While forgetting isn't essential, forgiveness is. And if trust is broken, we're proof it can be rebuilt.
11. Have compassion. We all go through rough patches. We fumble, we fail, we lose confidence. No one escapes this, so be patient and kind when it happens to your partner. And, have compassion for yourself when it happens to you, and hope they do the same.
12. Trust your instincts. They're almost always right. Act on your hunches, for better or worse. 
13. Be trustworthy. Be who you say you are, do what you say you're going to do. Operate with unflinching integrity.
14. Be grateful and check your baggage. We all have baggage, and it follows us into relationships. So look for the gifts and appreciate the small kindnesses, and be mindful about taking each other for granted. Much like tending a garden, this requires consistent effort and attention. 
15. Ask for help. Sometimes you can't do it on your own. We had a therapist from an earlier time. He made the call, but I came along. We saw her separately, but concurrently. With her help, because of his breakdown, I had major breakthroughs. Painful, yes. We made the choice to stay together. Miraculously, we can even laugh at the breakdown now. It got us where we are. 
16. Make time for each other. And yourselves. Friendship is key. Share meals. Watch a movie. Hold hands. Write notes. Go for a walk and talk about your day. Everything has an opposing side - be sure to give each other enough room, too. Having a life of your own gives you something to talk about.
    
17. Respect each other. We all aim to do the best we can. We make mistakes. There's truth in the saying, "perfect is the enemy of the good." Take time to learn about your partner's life goals and aspirations, and share yours. 
18. Be willing to grow. Don't be afraid of change because nothing stays the same. Giving each other room to grow, as well as growing together, is essential. A solid foundation of shared values, dreams, love and respect helps you grow as an individual and as a couple. We're two individuals on our own paths, and they happen to be parallel. It makes our journey together far more interesting. 

Many of these were hard for me and took plenty of practice. Even laughing. Often serious and sensitive, I've had to let go of some beliefs about who I was, what I thought was important, and maybe more importantly, what I made things mean. Now, it just gets better.

Words matter. I love you... 

thank you.... I'm sorry... I get it... 

 these make a difference... 

PS... For anyone who's read this blog since the beginning, this is evidence of just how far we've really come.  

Bittersweet: Mother's Day reflections

Yes, a mother's job is serious stuff, and a lot of hard, often thankless work. But being a mom, especially one from earlier generations before support groups and online forums, doesn't come with instructions, and not every woman is inherently good at it. 

First, I'm not a mother, unless you count cats or a brief foray into step-parenting 20-some years ago. Second, I'm not very sentimental about Mother's Day. Reading the history of mom's day makes me feel better about that. There's nothing like seeing 500 Facebook posts about people's moms to induce guilt.

I loved my mother.

She left this mortal coil on May 19, 14 years ago. And 14 years ago, we shared our last Mother's Day together. But she'd be one of the first to tell you it's a Hallmark holiday. Still, it was a lovely, sunny Sunday. She was feeling good and in good spirits. It was one of the few times she'd been back to the house, her childhood home, after moving to an assisted living apartment. Forrest's brother Clay and his family joined us for a backyard picnic. Just 64, mom's health was failing, but she'd been doing better lately and I thought there would be several more mom's days to come.

But just one week later, she was gone.

My mom and I had our challenges. She admitted one day not long before she died that she hadn't always been a good mother. I was a little surprised to hear her say that, so I asked what she meant. She didn't elaborate. But I knew. I also know she did her best. She didn't have a lot to work with. Her mom, my grandmother, was mean, and even meaner after a stroke. She was a martyr whose favorite tool was manipulation through guilt, and she treated my mom, her youngest, badly. Shit flows downhill, and I felt the brunt of that when, in her final years, we moved in to take care of her. Those were tough times for all of us.


I know my mom loved me. 


At least, she did to the best of her ability. There's an adage that says you can't truly love someone else until you love yourself, and my mom, for the most part, didn't like nor love herself. She spent most of her life fighting depression. And she did fight. From lots of self-medicating with the popular pills of the day, to a seven-year stint with a psychiatrist. She even took me to a session when we were having a particularly hard time. Mostly, she hid behind her weight, her caustic wit, TV, and cigarettes.

Co-dependent. 

That's a good word to describe our relationship. My earliest years were spent with my grandparents and an aunt while mom worked, but we'd always go home together. Just the two of us.

During those earlier years, we did things together. She was a good sport. She'd camp with my Girl Scout troop. She'd help me with badges, even if we did everything wrong (which we'd laugh about). She took me to see Fantasia. We went to ceramics classes. She made sure I had birthday parties and separate birthday and Christmas presents (I arrived just before Christmas). She fed me well and dressing me nicely was one way she showed she loved me. I honestly think she was both thrilled to have me in her life, and greatly burdened by me.

As a teen, she took in all my wayward friends, but at some point she abdicated any parental authority. She wanted what was best for me but didn't know how to guide me. She couldn't keep me safe. She especially didn't know how to deal with my hormones or emotions. My mom didn't have much love in her life, and though she and my dad were together only a short time, I believe she mourned him for the rest of her life.

My mother was social and loved family gatherings, but as family and friends died or slipped away, she became more reclusive and detached. From my earliest days, I remember her anger. She yelled. Slammed things. Threw things. Her frustration was easily triggered - a characteristic I adopted and only unlearned during my own self-analysis. I shared her anger, too, although I didn't realize this until a lifelong friend told me that as teens, she was afraid of my anger. That was a big a-ha for me.

I loved my mother. And I know she loved me.

And I'm not sentimental about Mother's Day.

By that last Mother's Day together, we'd largely made peace with each other, and ourselves. She once asked, "How'd you get so smart?" I told her I had good genes. My mom was wicked smart but had rare outlets to express it. Late in her life, she shared with me the dreams she'd had of doing something more. But fear, self-loathing and the responsibilities of being a single mom kept those dreams safely tucked away. Her fear spilled over on me; she discouraged my dreams, always suggesting the safe, familiar path.

Not everyone is fit to be a parent. I tried my best to be a step-mom. I didn't have a lot to work with. And my step-daughter triggered fears I didn't know I had. She came to live with her dad and me when she was 14. By 14, I had already cracked open the Pandora's box of drugs, sex and rock-and-roll. She was on a similar path, and it scared me. For her and for me. Step-parenting ushered in the end of my marriage - and drove me to see myself in a way I hadn't ever viewed myself previously. I had already done some inner work and made some changes, yet this was a real crossroads. I felt both proud and shamed by some of my own behavior.

Not all moms should be moms. I don't have children of my own, and I don't think that's just an accident. I put my mom through hell during my teen years. And, as she graciously owned, she wasn't a very good mom. I don't blame her. She didn't have anything to go on. From a young age, she shut herself off emotionally, did everything she could to protect herself from her own childhood pain.

Blood connections don't mean you owe each other anything. A friend is now caretaking her mom - a mom who's life was spent in festering resentment, never gaining emotional maturity, despite her advanced age. My friend is a compassionate woman; she left home at 16 for good reason, but she's doing what needs to be done, not because her mom earned her care, but because it's the right thing to do. And she's heartbroken, watching her mom suffer in her final days, still angry, resentful, and full of blame.

Yes, I miss my mom. 

I miss her humor and creativity, her insightful perceptions, her flashes of wisdom, her hugs. And I believe I was there for her in the best possible ways for both of us those last few years of her life. Her care was my priority; despite our continued challenges, I so badly wanted her to experience ease in those final years. She had done her best, given her circumstances. We had weathered a lot.

Despite it all, I didn't need a holiday - a day that began with good intentions (but even the founder was appalled at what it quickly became) - to do the right thing for my mom.

Not every mom knows how to be a mom. My mom tried, when she could. I'm grateful to her for much: she brought me into this world, she tried hard to do things differently with me, and she passed along some priceless gifts, in part, unwittingly. I honor her by doing things differently, still.

I applaud all those moms who made it through, do good jobs, and have wonderful relationships with their children. And I applaud those who were able to mend difficult relationships. And, I acknowledge all those who had a different experience.

Yes, I miss my mom. In many ways. But sometimes I just feel sadness when I think of her, and can't imagine anything else.

For me, as it is for many, Mother's Day is bittersweet. 

Empathy: Been there, done that

Empathy seems to be a trend these days. Don't get me wrong; by calling it out as a trend, I'm not dissing the importance of figuratively walking in another's shoes.

As a kid, I celebrated the Pagan May Day by anonymously giving baskets of
flowers to my elderly, and in some cases, incapacitated, neighbors. I give my
grandfather credit for fostering my early ability to feel empathy.

Empathy is one of my most treasured values, and I came by it honestly - I've been there, done that in a whole lot of circumstances, and benefited from some very hard lessons.

Lately, though, I'm hearing about empathy in unlikely places, particularly in a business environment. Marketing especially seems to have co-opted empathy (as they do any value worth its salt, really). I don't think this is bad; I think it's largely been missing despite lip service about caring about and understanding the customer.

I'm also hearing the word authenticity a lot more. Maybe it's because it's also on my radar; being my authentic self has become more important than ever and was a big part of my coach training program.

The thing with empathy is that it can't be faked well. Speaking of lip service, empathy is just that without authenticity. It certainly isn't sympathy. I don't want anyone's sympathy. But I damn sure want to feel empathy when I need it.

Truth... Trust... Actions do 

speak louder than words. 

Body language. Facial expressions. Tone. Inflection. Each says something, and adds meaning to your words.

How do you show up? How do you want to be seen? Understood? Are you willing to understand?

I'm also hearing more about how we're collectively experiencing an empathy deficit. This shows up in many ways, including hate speech, bullying, racial profiling, gender bashing, the list goes on. Immigration, gay marriage, women's rights - these are in the news, everyday, and here we are in 2014. What did Shakespeare say? The play is the same, only the characters change? We've made progress, true. Yet this isn't new; there's just a new(er) term for it. There are and always have been factions of insular, small-minded people, everywhere.

I'm all for fostering ways to bring more empathy into the world. If marketing helps us get there, well, whatever it takes. The more life we experience, the more ups, downs, failures, challenges we face, if we learn from them and don't become bitter, we can be empathetic. We can walk in those other proverbial shoes. We can make a difference for each other - and ultimately ourselves.

Seek first to understand...