Monthly Archives: March 2016

Short Thought 139

Who of us is appreciated exactly the way we want to be and as we think we deserve? And on the timetable we have in mind?

How many of us secretly, and not-so-secretly, believe the world, if only our corner of it, has failed to recognize and properly reward our genius? And if not genius, just “unique contribution”?

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Short Thought 138 (ill will)

I can’t decide which is worse, i.e., who does more damage, stupid people with ill will or smart people with ill will. On the one hand stupid people (who harm others) are careless and thoughtless; on the other, smart people (who harm others) are calculating and manipulative.

Grief calls

Grief sucks.

I’ve thought that since the first time I encountered it and I am going to go right on thinking that.

Grief makes the world over in shades of grey, all the color drains out. Oh, in reality the color is still there, being seen by others, and waiting for you, I get that. It’s a perspective thing. It still sucks.

I wouldn’t say I’m an “old hand” at grief, but we have met several times. I know the drill. Or my drill anyway; I know how I respond. I don’t resist grief. For whatever reason, from the first time I went through it, I took that approach. I’m going to feel this, I’m going to go wherever it takes me. Like it or not.

I don’t apologize when I’m grieving. Generally people don’t want me to be down – I’ve gotten that reaction since I was a teenager – but who is happy and jolly all the time? I mean sincerely happy and jolly. In life, I laugh and smile a lot. I make a lot of smart remarks and quips. I look for the humor. Not forcing it, but like Dudley Moore said in Arthur, “sometimes I just think funny thoughts.” But when I grieve, things just aren’t all that funny. And I accept that.

Processing a death takes time, so that ultimately when it’s done, the loss is woven into who I am. I have to absorb it, so it becomes part of my essence. The losses I’ve had are not all lumped together. I see them individually and each finds a place to take up residence permanently.

I’ve never met anyone who resisted grief and didn’t pay for it in some (other) fashion. Grief always wants the check paid. It doesn’t really care how. Grief essentially says you can choose to deal with this directly OR indirectly, but you will deal with it; I’m not going anywhere, friend.

Some people start or ramp up drinking or drugging. Others leap into emotional or sexual entanglements to provide distraction and distance. Some double down in “keeping busy.” Some simply try to convince themselves the loss just isn’t that great and life can go on as before more or less. [I do know people attribute having a job to go to daily or a pet or children that need to be taken care of, as what saved them in grief and kept them going. The distinction I see here is that those are positive, life-affirming responses or at least neutral ones, not self-destructive by design.]

I can think of two times in my life I consciously “postponed” grief because I simply couldn’t handle it at the time. In one instance, I was already grieving a monumental loss and had no room in my psyche to take on a secondary loss. I knew later I would. Another time I was dealing with a big problem that left me drained and stressed out and I resisted truly knowing about the death. I gave myself permission to not know, and to not wholly feel it then. I have to admit those two particular losses don’t feel as “clean”, like a surgery that wasn’t performed correctly the first time.

There’s something else I want to say about this. If bereaved people enjoy a moment or laugh at something, they can feel it’s a betrayal or an indication that they really don’t feel all that badly about the death, and maybe others will think they are “over it.” I so disagree. What I’m describing is different from wholesale attempts at escaping, bypassing, or otherwise tricking grief. Having little moments is a coping mechanism and it provides hope. Grieving people need hope so that they can regain traction and move on with their life, which is not over. Life takes the living with it: “You’re coming with me.” And anyway, in bereavement, happy moments are just that – moments – and grief will be there waiting, ever so patiently. I always say you don’t have to force yourself to feel bad; you will soon enough.

Not long ago I read somewhere that grief might even be considered a form of mental illness. I can sort of see that. I’ve always been obsessive in grief, but that’s the way I’m wired up. I THINK my way through things as I’m feeling them. Obsessing over an issue helps me process. I have to look at it from every conceivable angle. In the case of loss, obsessing helps me believe it’s true. In the end that’s what I think the goal is after a death, to believe it really happened and to live with it.

Acts of affection…

It was probably the most genuine, tender interaction between us. We were both in the vicinity of middle age. Our relationship to each other was ambiguous, not or not-yet defined. I was sussing things out you could say. We were in public together, in a social setting with other people. I don’t remember what precipitated it – had anything? – when, without speaking, he suddenly inclined his head my way, almost bowing but not too low. Maybe it was an act of supplication, maybe it was a declaration, I don’t know. Without hesitating I reached out and put my hand on the top of his head and rested it briefly there. I said nothing. To me, the moment was not quite maternal, not quite romantic, but something else or something in between. It felt, despite the eyes on us, private.

He spoiled it not much later, hopping around, bleating, “Touch my head! Rub my head!” while leaning in toward me the way a cat or dog does when it wants to make you pet it. He was clearly playing to the other people present, acting the fool. I  had a fair idea this time was going to be used for a joke or punch line. I wouldn’t do it. I paid him no mind.

 

 

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The U.S. is a dysfunctional family

The U.S. is like a dysfunctional, blended family that manages to more or less pull it together, as do most families, for big events such as the Fourth of July, Thanksgiving, the Inaugural, and the Super Bowl (or so I hear). Otherwise, as of late it feels like just so many factions, fighting amongst each other, squabbling over their share. “He got a bigger piece than I did!” “Mom likes you better!” “Why am I the one who always has to compromise?!” “I hate this family!”

After Sept 11, 2001, there was a sense we put all that aside for a moment, and this was one country that had been terribly wronged and wounded. The enemy was once again “out there”, not next door or across the aisle in the Senate or that rich 1%, and so on, but the sentiment soon devolved. Even if it had all the earmarkings of a honeymoon, there was a brief period of national optimism around Obama’s first election, but it too passed. National mood comes and goes quickly. In recent times, dissatisfaction and resentment never seem too far from the surface.

In 2016 bad blood between North and South lingers though the fights have moved from the fields to the courts. By citizens and politicians alike, immigrants are viewed with suspicion. Muslims as a group are painted with one brush. American businesses take jobs overseas causing anger stateside. Corporations swallow up smaller businesses and most new businesses fail. A lot of people are afraid of losing what they have, be it health, financial security, their jobs, or their homes. The middle of the Country and the two coasts are at odds. Old and young citizens are pitted against each other, each resenting the other – never have so many Americans existed in such large numbers with such age gaps separating them. The differences in our political parties, never gone, are so pointed during an election year. We are nowhere near a society that does not see race. The majority of law-abiding Americans fear a disenfranchised homegrown minority, armed with weapons and explosives, that randomly prey on their fellow citizens, be it in acts of crime or terrorism.

That rhetoric about how America used to be a great country and no longer is, often wielded self-righteously, sticks in my craw. I have a theory that nobody is more unhappy than the person who has power and loses it. I think that’s what’s happening here. The average Joe and Jane senses something has been lost; even the lowest guy on the totem pole used to be able to boast about being an American. People took pride in this country’s accomplishments even if they didn’t personally have a hand in them. There was a feeling that we ALL were part of whatever this country achieved. A person could coast along, doing their workaday job, watching TV at night, grilling hotdogs with pals on weekends, and still feel like he or she was part of the bigger picture. I don’t think people feel that as much now. There is both a belief other countries are “getting ahead” and that this one’s agenda can’t entirely be trusted.

Rather than look to what binds us as a country and get people to focus on how they contribute to the “common good”, there are those who want to dig deeper divides among Americans. It’s been very effective. If you are unhappy or things aren’t turning out as hoped, somebody is to blame, goes the theory. Being a United States citizen was supposed to be the equivalent of holding a Golden Ticket, and a whole lot of people are bummed to discover it’s not entirely true.

As a nation, we lack one common goal and that weakens us. If I go back to the family metaphor, that’s what brings down a family too: the lack of a common goal, even it’s something as general as “We are family and we stick together” or “The family takes care of its own.” I can’t really think of one thing that binds all Americans or that we could get the majority to agree upon. That troubles me.

I am not about to agree with the blanket sentiment that we need to “go back to when America was great.” Go back? To when exactly? When we had lots of social problems but didn’t air them as freely as we do now? Is the issue that we – the dysfunctional family – are just louder about what’s wrong? People have always spoken up in this country but not without a price and I’d venture the majority kept their heads down, unwilling to risk whatever they did have. Doesn’t seem as true today, which comes with pluses and minuses.

How do you define great? Is it as simple as people having enough food to eat, health care when they need it, education for their children, freedom to practice or not practice religion, productive work in decent environments, a chance to move ahead socially and financially, and a safe, comfortable place to live? Is it knowing the government and military will protect its people from threats, both external and homegrown? Is that great? Or is more about being viewed as the richest, most productive, most powerful country in the world? Some of both?

Part of my issue with what’s happening now is that I can’t entirely tease out the rhetoric that is tossed around so wildly with the reality of most people’s lives. I see numbers and statistics just like you do. The unemployment rates. The mental health issues. The crime rates. The scary talk about poverty and retirement. About sickness and mortality. The drugs and alcohol. The disproportionate number of minorities in prison. The white collar crime. The abuse of children and battered women. The guns. The weird viruses and bacteria that turn up stateside. The chemicals in our food, air, rain, drinking water. The unrest in other parts of the world that threatens not only our interests but at times, our lives.

So I know all this stuff. Nobody will let you NOT know it. Does that laundry list of bad news effectively cross out my first definition of “great?” Can they coexist? I can’t even answer that for myself. Nor can I say a country is great if most people have those benefits most of the time. As is true of a family, is a country only as strong as its weakest or least happy member? And — for as intertwined as the world now is across the board, maybe it just isn’t possible to think of the U.S. as an entity unto itself. Maybe that’s the larger issue, or at least an underlying one.

Short Thought 137 (Bachelor Ben)

Many weeks of watching this season of The Bachelor has got me thinking that if Ben, with his Peter Brady looks and understated warm sincerity, gazed into my eyes with those chocolate brown ones, even I, a middle-aged, marginally skeptical lady, who watches as something akin to a relationship voyeur, might join the choruses gushing, “You make me feel so special. I think I’m falling in love. You really get me.” Sure, I’d have to overlook his religious bent, but still. Maybe his broad shoulders would block the view.