Marble 3

Saint Patricks cathedral... 

 For the first time, I was visiting it alone. I could spend  much time as I wanted and look and read every sign and placard. There had just been a fantastic wedding- incredibly fancy. People were walking around in formal gowns everywhere. 

I went to every alcove for every saint, and again, as I seem to every year, I wound in front of Saint Joseph. Maybe because he was a father. The first year I lit a candle for his father, I looked for the patron saint of fathers and couldn't find one, so I went to Christ's father. Saint Patrick's church has statues of such obscure saints… If there is a patron saint of fathers, it isn't there… St. Joseph always seem the most appropriate one to choose. 

This year, I lit three candles, one for my grandparents, one for my brother, and one for his father…. After waiting forever for the security guard to walk away, I placed my marble at the feet of the tiny angel that guarded the candles. I quickly took a picture. Then I knelt in front of the statue, and prayed. Most years I am too distracted to pray properly. I know the kids are getting bored and there are tourists everywhere. But this year I just cleared my head took a long as I needed. 

At first, I prayed for God to bring him back to me… Then, as I thought the words, I realized that it wasn't going to happen. And that for praying for it was only setting myself up for pain and disappointment. So, as I usually try to do, I prayed for God's will… I don't know what His will is, but I know that whatever it is, it will be best in the end. I prayed for God to heal him. To heal his heart and give him love and peace and happiness. I prayed for God to open his heart and let him feel all the things that he blocks out and refuses to feel.  And if there was some way, if somehow, someday, he could feel what I feel,  that maybe he could bring us back together.  

I truly and earnestly prayed. And when I was done, I was crying. Kneeling there, in St. Patricks cathedral, in the middle of New York, surrounded by strangers… I got up to leave, but as I walked through the sanctuary, and saw the people sitting, waiting for the 5:30 mass to start, I suddenly felt compelled to stay. I sat in a pew and lowered the kneeling bar, and prayed again until the service started. 

Traveling Alone

Traveling to New York alone.  I'd rather have a companion, sure... But I am looking forward to this. 

The man on the plane was really nice. It was refreshing to just talk to someone- a man- and not have to worry about if he was going to ask me out or if I was willing to see him, or what I would say if he did... To be able to just talk to someone and know that it was just talking- it was nice. It was also interesting to note that this guy was a complete stranger, but he and I had so much in common. He was in theatre in high school. He sang with several notable groups. He enjoys New York... Once we started talking, I wished we had started up a conversation earlier.  It's nice to know that there are people out there who share my interests and that they aren't too hard to find. 

Marble 2

This weekend I went camping with the girls. Just us. To the same place he took me. It was lovely, but sad. I took last week's marble with me. I thought maybe I would throw it in the river... Instead, I placed the marble in the crook of a tree that had been near our tent when we were there together. A very distinct tree that I was calling "our tree" in my head... I put the marble there, took a picture of it, and left it there. 

I decided to leave my marbles places that have had some impact on my week. Or perhaps, if I am lucky, someplace I have had an impact on. 

 I will post each weeks picture... 

Beautiful Act

I saw the most beautiful thing today...

A man in a meeting talked about what he was going through. Losing his wife, watching her killing herself slowly, the pain and guilt he has- watching his daughter torn apart by it all... He was overcome with grief and wept openly in front of everyone...

After he was done, the next woman spoke. She said that she knew how he felt, and went on to talk about how her cat was dying. She went on and on about her cat being ill- as though that could possibly compare to this man's entire life falling apart. She started crying and could hardly keep talking... I was sitting across the room, and just as I was beginning to think that he must be offended by her comparing her cat to his life, he did the most amazing thing. He reached out and took her hand, and held it while she cried. He sat there, still crying, comforting a woman who was going on about her cat while his life was in ruins. He didn't judge her for being so sad about something so small, compared to other people's problems. He understood that she was in pain, too. And he sat there and held her hand, and they cried together.

It made me cry, and I still cry now, remembering it.

It was one of the simplest, kindest, most beautiful acts I have ever seen. 

Harder Than I Thought

 I saw online:

      

“Beginning today, treat everyone you meet as if they were going to be dead by midnight. Extend to them all the care, kindness, and understanding you can muster, and do it with no thought of any reward. Your life will never be the same again.”

I thought that was a profound idea. I had been out of the house almost all day, but I was on my way to  rehearsal, and thought it would be a perfect time to try it. I thought about it all the way there, and as I walked toward the building... 

As I approached the door, some man came bustling out. He almost bumped into me, and glared at me like I had done something rude. As he rushed off, I looked after him, surprised and irritated. I turned to walk into the building and suddenly remembered my goal to treat everyone like it was their last day.  I actually smacked myself in the head. How had I forgotten so quickly? 

I walked through the building toward the registration desk, and as I stood there, a new woman walked up. She said she wanted to join the group, and started filling out the paperwork. I was still standing there, handing in my money, when the man at the desk asked her, "Do you already have the score?"

She sounded confused and irritated, and said, "Do I have what?"  

Without even thinking about it, I just said, "The music." 

Without looking at me, she snotted, "I KNOW what 'score' means!" 

I felt terrible and embarrassed. I was genuinely being friendly. I hadn't even thought that she didn't know what it meant. I just said it. I was just being friendly. I wasn't even consciously trying to help. I just said it. So here I go again. I want to help, and I'm trying to be kind to everyone I meet, and I have offended and embarrassed this woman. I stammered something like, "I didn't think you didn't know what it meant. I just thought you didn't hear him.." And she said something I can't remember - but I do remember that she sounded a little embarrassed- like she knew she had been rude. 

I continued to try all through rehearsal.   It was hard. The music was too difficult and I realized right way that I had scheduled myself in over my head. I couldn't learn this music plus the Christmas show, plus Messiah. I tried really hard to be kind to everyone I came across. Other than the guys siting next to me, I didn't see many people. 

This is surprisingly harder to do than you might think.... 

Marbles

I saw this story on the internet once... 

My friend Dwight Bain sent me a story of a ham radio operator who overheard an older gentleman giving advice to a younger man. 

“It’s a shame you have to be away from home and family so much,” he said. “Let me tell you something that has helped me keep a good perspective on my own priorities. You see, one day I sat down and did a little arithmetic. The average person lives about 75 years. Now then, I multiplied 75 times 52 and came up with 3,900, which is the number of Saturdays that the average person has in his lifetime. 

“It took me until I was 55 years old to think about this in any detail,” he continued, “and by that time I had lived through over 2,800 Saturdays. I got to thinking that if I lived to be 75, I only had about a thousand of them left to enjoy.” 

He went on to explain that he bought 1,000 marbles and put them in a clear plastic container in his favorite work area at home. “Every Saturday since then,” he said, “I have taken one marble out and thrown it away. I found that by watching the marbles diminish, I focused more on the really important things in life. There’s nothing like watching your time here on this earth run out to help get your priorities straight.” 

Then the older gentleman finished, “Now let me tell you one last thought before I sign off and take my lovely wife out to breakfast. This morning, I took the very last marble out of the container. I figure if I make it until next Saturday, then I have been given a little extra time. 

We can’t choose whether we will get any more time, but we can choose what we do with it.

I always loved that story, and I thought it was a great idea. One of the many times that we separated to try to let him figure out what he wanted in his life, I did the math, and figured out how many Saturdays he had left until he turned 75... I bought that many marbles and put them into a big bucket- the only thing I could find big enough to hold them. I left them on his doorstep, with this story. I hoped that he would think about how much time he was wasting, trying to over think everything, and trying to wait until everything was perfect, instead of just embracing life and love here in the moment and being willing to work for it...

I also made myself a bucket of marbles. I am 5 years older than he is, and I had surprisingly fewer marbles than he did. Mine fit in a large, glass fish bowl. I keep them on my bookshelf, and every Saturday I take one out.

For a while, I was saving them. Numbering them, thinking that someday I could look back at each marble and say, "Here's what was happening in our lives when I took this one out..." But after a while, that seemed dumb, and I stopped doing it. I started just throwing them away, like the man in the story. I thought that was more symbolic. The time is gone. I can't get it back... Then, when he asked me to give him another chance, and we got back together, I started placing the marbles out in the garden, by the flower that Dr. D gave me. 

But, like he always said, I have to learn to let go of the past. I can't keep holding on to the marbles of weeks past and keep looking at them and wishing about them. I have to accept that the time is gone and it isn't coming back, and move on... 

People Pleasing

Most human beings have an instinctive need to fit in. The  urge to belong, to keep the peace, helps us to get along with others and be a part of society. This instinct has allowed many civilizations to survive, and  is not harmful unless I lose my sense of balance. 

People-pleasing becomes destructive when  I  ignore my own needs and continually sacrifice my well-being for the sake of others. Al-Anon helps me find a compromise that allows me to respond to my feelings, including my desire to belong, and still take care of myself.
The  best way to  maintain  this  balance is to  build my self-esteem. When I treat myself with kindness and respect, I become better able to get along with others. 

Today's Reminder
I will appreciate that all of my instincts and feelings exist for a reason. Today, instead of trying to banish these feelings, I will strive to find a balance. 

"If l am not for myself, who will be for me? And if l am only for myself, what am I? And if not now-when?"
Hillel

People Pleasing... I have heard the phrase in meetings many times. I have heard people talk about it. While I understood what they were talking about, and could recognize myself a little in the things they said, I didn’t really identify with it. It wasn’t really a problem I had... I wanted people to be happy, but it wasn’t a character defect. It wasn’t causing problems... 

A lot of people in Al-Anon say that they learn to be thankful for the alcoholic, because if it wasn’t for them, then they wouldn’t have found the rooms... Although it always seemed to me that if they hadn’t lived with the alcoholic, they would’t have had needed the rooms in the first place...  But suddenly, I can see a little of what they mean... If it wasn’t for my boyfriend leaving me, and leaving me when he did, after that particular fight, I may not have had the revelation about myself that I had. 

I just wanted everyone to be happy. I wanted to find a restaurant that everyone would be happy with. Fun enough for the kids, food everyone liked, not crowded, and close enough to his house so that he wouldn’t be out too late... The first place was too crowded, so I had to call my kids and try to figure out a second choice. No one could agree. I tried to make everyone happy, and no one was. I got frustrated. He got mad at me. I got mad at him. The evening went to hell. I asked him why he was mad at ME- what did I do other than try to help? Things escalated. I was mad at him for not being more understanding. He told me that I hold on to things and I am too emotional and I just need to let things go and get over it already...  And then he left. And he never called again. That was just it, basically. He didn’t want me anymore after that. It wasn’t even the most upset or emotional I have every been around him. I was just mad and frustrated. But it was too much for him, and he left. 

I keep thinking back on it, and trying to figure out what the hell I did wrong to make him that mad. I mean, before we fought. He was mad at me before we ever got to the parking lot. I kept thinking,  “I was just trying to make everyone happy.” I heard myself saying that over and over again. And I realized, that is what I am always trying to do. I am always trying to make everyone else happy- making myself the martyr in every situation, and thinking that surely, someone who loves me will see the sacrifices I am making for everyone else, and how much I must love them to do that, and appreciate it. I keep thinking that someone who loves me will say, “Oh, she is putting herself out to make others happy- I can’t let her do that. I want HER to be happy. “  

Like, I hate sitting outside at the restaurant, because people smoke out there. I have asthma, and it hurts to sit near the smokers. I have told people this a number of times. But when the weather is nice, everyone wants to sit outside. I don’t fight it. I might say once that I would prefer inside, but then everyone else says, oh, but it’s so nice outside, we want to sit on the patio!... So I don’t argue. I want them to be happy, so I go outside. And I am uncomfortable the whole time. I keep thinking that someday, someone is going to say, “She always sits outside with us- we should sit inside so that the smoke doesn’t bother her...” But they never do. I allow them to sit outside, so they do. No one argues that I shouldn’t put myself out. And no one thinks that I should have a turn to be put first.... And I start to resent it.  I start to get more and more resentful, and then eventually, I will do something nice for someone- clean their room, buy them a treat, plan something nice- and they won’t appreciate it, or they’ll complain about it, and I will explode. I will be furious and hurt and inconsolable, because I do SO much to make everyone else happy- always thinking of them first, always putting off things I want to do or giving up the things I want- and no one even notices or says thank you... I guess that they have no idea I have been doing this, so when I get upset it looks like I am losing my shit out of the clear blue for no reason whatsoever... 

And there are times when I know that people take advantage of the fact that I will always put others first. They know that if they tell me they really want something or to do something, that I will feel bad for not doing it, and will say OK.  Even though he knew how uncomfortable I was with him staying over night here, he would still ask and drop hints about how far it was to have to drive home and how late it was, and how he only stayed this late for me ... etc... I would wind up giving in, because I wanted to make him happy. But then I would sleep fitfully and feel bad the next day. I always thought that if he respected me or loved me that he wouldn’t want to do something that he knew would bother me. But every one will take what they can get. If they know I will do it, then they will ask for it. Every single person. No one cares what I give or what it takes from me to give it. 

That is what happened to my marriage. If I had to look back and choose the one thing that destroyed everything, I would have to say this is it. Yes, there was the fact that he was an alcoholic and a sex addict. But I allowed those things to continue. I enabled him to keep getting deeper and deeper into it because I wanted him to be happy. 

I didn’t want to go along with things he wanted to do. I told him that from the beginning. I told him over and over and over... But he kept pushing. He would go further and further without asking, knowing that I wouldn’t say no once something was already in motion. I wouldn’t want to embarrass people, or hurt peoples feelings, or embarrass him, or seem like a horrible bitch who rains on other people’s fun... I would go along with things once they were already happening, and I would smile and act like I was having a good time, telling myself this would be the last time. I would tell myself that I would talk to him about it afterward and he would understand and he wouldn’t ask me to be part of things like tis any more, because he loved me and didn’t want me to be hurt.... When I told him that, he would agree and say- no more. But then suddenly it was going on again. And again, I wouldn’t say no. 

I grew more and more resentful of the fact that he only cared about what made him happy and not me. I felt less and less attracted to him- disgusted by the things he did and emotionally distanced from him to the point that I couldn't even pretend anymore. 

And when it all came to a head- when the fighting grew to epic proportions, and I tried to tell him the effect his drinking and sexing had on our relationship and how much they hurt me, he didn’t believe me. He argued back. He said I had always agreed. He said I had been right there with him, enjoying it and that I never objected... He didn’t remember all the times I had told  him how much I wanted things to stop. He only remembered that once he tried to start something, I didn’t say no. I allowed things to happen, therefore I must have been OK with it. He insisted that if those things had anything to do with our demise then it was just as much my fault as his, because I wanted to do them as much as he did... I have to think that somewhere deep inside, he remembers all the times I asked him to stop. All the fights over the years about the drinking. The times I threw the wine bottles out the front door... The tears when I told him that the lifestyle he wanted was hurting me and keeping me away from church because I felt so wrong and dirty and unworthy as long as I was any part of what was going on... 

Once- before therapy, before Al-Anon- he asked me what was MY fault. He said I kept saying that it was both of our faults, but that he only seemed to hear anyone talking about what he did wrong. He said, “If you truly think that this is a 2 way street, then what is your fault? What did you do wrong?” ... I knew what I was trying to say. I knew what I meant. But when I said, “I should have said ‘no’.”- he took that as just a round-about way to blame him for everything... 

But I meant it. And I understand it a lot more now. I wanted him to be happy so badly- I didn’t want to deal with a moment of unhappiness or discomfort or embarrassment... So I always just went along with whatever was going on. I always played the martyr, and pretended like I was OK with whatever was happening. 

I still think that part of love is sometimes doing things you don’t want to do in order to make the other person happy... And to a certain extent, I still think that you should be able to count on someone who loves you to want the best for you and to not ask you to do things that they know you don’t want to do. But after so many years, he had proven that he was not going to do that. I knew that he would push his agenda whenever he could. I knew that if he got an inch, he would take a mile... But I still didn’t say no. I still didn’t stand up for myself. I sat around and got sad and hurt and resentful because he didn’t look out for my best interests, when I knew that he wasn’t going to. 

That is what I did wrong. That was my fault. 

I’m not sure what to do now that I have realized this... I remember when my father left my mother. She suddenly became a new person. She stopped saying ‘yes’ to every single damned thing someone asked her to do. She started thinking of herself first and taking care of herself. That was  a good thing, I know. But she came across as a bitch (to me at least) doing it. She didn’t say ‘no’ nicely. She was just all, “No. I don’t have to give you a reason or apologize for saying no. Just NO. Go away”.. And maybe that wasn’t bad, either, but it was so abrupt, and she wasn’t the woman I had known anymore. She hurt my feelings numerous times with her new found self awareness... I don’t want to do that. I think that putting others first is good. I think it is good to be kind and selfless... But others will take advantage of that. People that I love and that I think love me. What do I do about that? What was I supposed to do that night about the restaurants? Just announce that we were going to iHop no matter what anyone else said, because, damn it, that is where I wanted to go, so let’s go? 

How do I balance being strong and not letting people take advantage of me, but still be giving and unselfish, the way I want to be? 

Feelings Are Not Facts

In  the face of seemingly impossible problems, it is easy to believe that our  most negative thoughts  reflect the truth. They plead the worst case scenario in a very convincing way, until it almost seems frivolous to consider a positive outcome.  Yet the loudest voice is not necessarily the truest. 

No matter how insistent a feeling may be, it is just a feeling, not a prophecy. We don't get to know today what will happen tomorrow. Counting on any particular outcome  can lead to  disappointment,  but  sometimes it helps to remember that a positive outcome is just as likely as a negative one. 

We are powerless over the results of our actions. Wecan try to make wise choices today, but what will happen in the future is out of our hands. Since we can't know what to expect, why not trust that a Higher Power can use whatever happens to further our growth? 

Today's Reminder
Today I will place the future in  my Higher Power's hands. I trust that by turning it over, it can be used for my good. 

"This time, like all times, is a very good one, if we but know what to do with it."

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Hope

Living with alcoholism taught me that it was best not to hope for anything. The lessons were too painful-! would get excited about something, only to have my hopes shattered. As time passed and hope diminished, I fell deeper into despair. Eventually I shut down my feelings and refused to care or to hope for anything at all. 

Through  Al-Anon's Twelve Steps, I am discovering a spirituality that allows me to believe that there is every reason to hope. With my Higher Power's help, regardless of my circumstances, I can feel fully alive in the moment and enjoy this feeling. The painful lessons of a lifetime are not unlearned overnight, but Al-Anon is helping me to learn that it is safe to feel, to hope, even to dream. 

Today's Reminder
It is risky to care-I may be disappointed. But in trying to protect myself from pain, I could cut myself off from the many delights that life has to offer. I will live more fully today. 

"Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul."

Samuel Ullman