A Love Letter...

...to my husband.

I don't share a lot about my husband. He's a pretty private person and avoids social media, so I try to keep him mostly out of my more public thoughts. Even though I am not a "public person" (very few people read my writing or know who I am), I still want to respect my husband's privacy even to those who might actually see this. 

But today I want to share a little bit about my husband; B. Today is my Anniversary; both of my wedding day, and of the night we started dating. We met in the Fall of my Freshman year of college, but we started a romantic relationship after re-meeting at a New Year's Eve party five years later. So naturally, it made sense to make it a New Year's Eve wedding. Not only did that make it a great night for a party, but it also made it a great time to have a honeymoon in a nice warm place (we went to Jamaica), and a great excuse to go to other warm places for Anniversaries. Bonus that we would always remember what day we got married (though we sometimes struggle with the year). This year we managed to make it to 27 years. 🎉🎉

Twenty-seven years is a long time. We have now both been married more than half our lives. Pretty wild. 

I want people to know that the reason we have managed to stay married so long is because my husband is an amazing man. He is good and kind and smart, and incredibly emotionally strong. And he has saved my life more than once. 

When we "re-met" at that New Year's Eve party, I was a mess. I had graduated from college, but was working a job that didn't require a degree. I was an emotional mess from years of unresolved trauma and didn't feel at all worthy of his - or anyone's - love. He had just gotten out of a long-term relationship and I was just supposed to be a fun rebound. And we did have fun. 

But we also became good friends, and the rebound kept going. Like any good 90's relationship; we made each other mixed tapes, and we fell in love. If you were to ask me why I love my husband, one of the number one things is that he has great taste in music. I'm serious. My favorite thing to do with him still is to go to concerts (even if they are now virtual, during the pandemic). Almost as enjoyable is listening to his playlists while he is working in his home office across the hall from mine. For me, music is like politics; I would have a really hard time being in a relationship with someone with strongly opposing ideas of either of them. Luckily my husband and I get along with both. We aren't exactly the same, but fortunately we are very compatible. 

A lot can happen in 27 years, and we absolutely have had our ups and downs. I haven't always appreciated that he helped save my life, and I still had a lot of work to do on my own. We both also have the tendency to be workaholics and that can make both of us feel neglected. But somehow, we have managed to stay together. 

When I was younger I honestly didn't think I would ever get married. My parents had a terrible relationship and I didn't think marriage was a good idea. I didn't know how to disagree in a relationship and not break up, so I went through a long series of short relationships. Until B. He didn't let me break up with him, and he didn't give up on me. And it turns out, he was just what I needed. 

So here we are, celebrating another year of marriage. And I realize how incredibly lucky I am. He saved my life again this year. 

And he still has good taste in music. 

Trying to understand

 ...different kinds of people.

People have always fascinated me. I'm the youngest kid in my birth family and I think I was born observing others. I was (am?) notoriously shy. People fascinate me, but they also scare me. 

I have very little desire to ever hurt anyone. Or anything. I will take a bug outside instead of killing it in my house, but then I will worry that perhaps it's death will be more painful outside (but then I hope that then it will be food to another creature who needs it to survive and continue the cycle of life, so it is still better than being killed inside my house). Lol...yes, I really have thought those things. 

But back to people; I am fascinated by different people. And we are all different. Beautifully, wonderfully different. I absolutely see the beauty in everyone. Even though some really hide that beauty and seem really pretty ugly. 

I am not talking about physical beauty, though that is fascinating too (what makes someone appealing to some is not the same as to others). But I am mostly talking about the differences of people's souls, and the way we think and act. I am most particularly fascinated by how we think about and treat other people and things. And I find it really impossible to believe that there are people who are truly shallow in their thinking or feeling. I read about them, but it is beyond my comprehension. But it is absolutely fascinating. 

I look at the world through my own eyes. My comprehension necessarily is filtered through my own experiences. But I also know that there are other ways of viewing the world. So I try to understand them. 

But see, this is where it is really tricky; because people often only share what they want to share, and that isn't necessarily a true picture. So even that fascinates me. I wonder why people don't want to share who they really are...why is it so frightening? Or, if it isn't frightening, why do they want to keep other people from knowing who they are? .... and then, I wonder why I'm not more afraid of people knowing who I am....and then I think maybe I should be. 

When I am feeling more confident and strong, I think that it is incredibly sad that people are so afraid to share who they really are. What a sad world we live in where we have to hide who we are.... 

And yet, I also know that I am comfortable writing this in large part because I don't expect many people to read it! 

So then I go back to thinking that surely most people have these kinds of thoughts and just don't share them. So then, are we really all so different? 

I recently read an article that talked about Highly Sensitive People, or HSPs. And, of course, I identify as such. I have known about the "definition" for many years and every "test" I take reinforces that identity. What confuses me, still, is that supposedly only 20% or so of people identify as Highly Sensitive. I really don't understand that. I want to argue that surely people are that sensitive but they just block it because they can't handle it. Surely it is just a coping mechanism because the sensitivity is so overwhelming? I mean, I think my entire family is highly sensitive, so isn't everyone?? 

Ok, apparently it is genetic. But still. How could people survive if they aren't sensitive to their surroundings? Isn't there something about survival of the fittest and don't we, as a species, have to be sensitive to survive? So it must be more than 20%. 

And now I want to study it more.

So of course I will. I will continue to read about people, and to observe. And ask questions when I can. And be frustrated when people won't share more of their own thoughts with me. But also continue to accept that they have the right to not share...I absolutely respect your desire to not share. 

I do think I understand that there are people in this world that do want to hurt other people. And I definitely understand that we can still hurt other people even if we don't want to. I know that far too well. That is possibly my greatest curse; that all I want to do is make the world a better place and to help people, but unfortunately I still hurt people. I have a rather long list of people who I have cared about and tried to be friends with who have pushed me away. I try to protect people from me, but when I let my boundaries slip it usually ends badly. But I'm aware and try to be careful now. I do feel bad for all the people I have hurt over the years; it was never intentional, but that doesn't mean it hurt any less. 

So maybe that is usually the case with other people? They don't mean to hurt other people, but they are stupid and not careful enough, and it happens anyway? And instead of trying to understand and make amends or apologize, they just run away? Or, do they really just not care? 

I care. I am always trying to understand. I feel bad about people I have hurt over 40 years ago, and especially anyone I have hurt in the last year. I try to be a better person now than I was yesterday. I try to make up for my mistakes. And I try to understand. 

Twas the Day After Christmas....

 

....and here at my house, 

the sweet old dogs were snoring, 

(and definitely not quiet as a mouse)

~~~~~~

I sit at my computer, with the sounds of my Sweet Annie and Zoe, 
their breathing coming in and out like ocean waves...

the wind is strong, and the waves are big and loud.

I can almost feel the movement, like riding on a big boat in a choppy sea...

up and down and back and forth, a symphony of breath.

Until someone walks by in the hall and wakes them up.

The little one sits up and looks out to where she heard the sound, 

sleepy in her soft pajamas, she wobbles a little before snuggling back down.

The big one just lifts her head, looks at me, and then settles back to sleep.

Soon Zoe coos as she curls back into a ball, 

and then their breathing deepens again and the sounds of the ocean come back to life.

~~~~~~

Writing this blog is still an exercise in humility and questioning my motives. Why "share" what I write? What do I hope to gain? Anything? Is it worth the time to type and post, even if no one else reads it? Why bother? 

And again, the answer is still yes, it is worth the time, for me. Perhaps no one else will read it, but it is still positive energy to put out into the world. And that positive energy is still worth sharing. 

Writing, like other forms of art, is still valuable even if it is only appreciated by the creator of that art. Creative energy is positive energy, and that is inherently good. I don't have to be famous in order to be valuable. What I write doesn't have to be perfect, or even amazing, for it to have value. 

My December 2020 Thich Nhat Hanh Calendar page has this: 

"Words can travel thousands of miles.

May my words create mutual understanding and love. 

May they be as beautiful as gems, as lovely as flowers."

That is my goal. But if I fall short, may it still be worth the effort. 

☮♡☯

 

Welp....my turn to Quarantine

 

So, it is a good 9 months into the Pandemic, and I have been happily Introverting and mostly staying away from people. But I made a few exceptions, and...oops. Yesterday I was told that someone I was in "close contact" with two days before that tested positive for COVID-19. So now it's my turn to really quarantine. 

The good news is that I was well-masked during the "close contact", and that person was masked as well. There was a good-quality air purifier in the room, and good sanitary protocols were followed. See, I am a massage therapist and I had chosen to work on a very small number of clients, knowing that they were tested frequently and being extra careful. I knew there was still a risk, but I chose to take that risk. Now, I will find out if the masking and cleaning were sufficient to stave off that risk. 

I am hopeful that I am healthy enough and lucky enough to not get sick. And if I do, hopeful that my body will be able to fight off the virus. But I have to admit it is a little scary.

The greater risk for me - other than my own health risk - is that I am my 85 year-old mother's caretaker. She doesn't live with me, but I buy all her groceries and drive her to appointments. I just re-scheduled a medical appointment that she had scheduled for next week, in hopes that I will make it through the quarantine and be able to take her to the new date and time. And fortunately I had just done some shopping for her a couple days before I was in contact with the now-positive person. And I do know that if I do get sick there are other options to help my mom (just not her preference). 

So here I am, looking at the calendar, and hoping that I will get through the next week to 10 more days without any symptoms, and without my family getting sick as well. And, here I am looking at my options in case we are not so lucky. Things like when and where I should get tested, who I can contact in case I can't help my mom when she needs it, etc. And in the back of my mind; what happens if I spread it to my family and someone else gets more sick.... 

I am super fortunate because I can take time off of work without losing my job or my house or going without food. My kids are old enough that if I get really sick they can take care of themselves. Again, I know how lucky I am. And although my mom won't like it, she *can* be helped by other people too.

So now I join the group of people who have had to quarantine because they were in contact with someone who tested positive. Fortunately the only people I was in contact with since that time are my family, and they have all been careful as well. Hopefully the story will end here and I won't be part of the spread. I guess I'll find out!

Some Thoughts on Pandemic Introversion

 

My dogs have become my spirit animals. They are both older ladies - both thirteen years old - and they enjoy staying home and snuggling into their beds or other comfy spaces. The Pandemic has been pretty great for them, and they have made the past 9 months much better for me, as well. 

I am not strictly an introvert; I usually fall right in between introversion and extroversion when I take any kind of personality test. I do like people, and I like to be around people who are comfortable for me. But I'm Highly Sensitive and I need my space as well. I don't like crowds, and I like quiet calm spaces. I am a massage therapist and I prefer to work in a space where I can keep things quiet and peaceful. 

Because I am fortunate enough to have a pretty good savings and support, I have been able to weather this Pandemic mostly at home, with my dogs and the rest of my family, and I admit it has been pretty great. I do miss working more, and sometimes my house gets a little too noisy with all the other people and their various Zoom meetings.  But my house is big enough that I can usually find a quiet space when I need to. I am extremely fortunate. 

 I recognize that this Pandemic is not comfortable for most people. I am definitely one of the lucky ones. I still hurt for all the people who are struggling more than I am. I still feel a lot of pain for all the others who are hurting so much at this time. I do not understand how other people do not feel other's pain, because it is the way I have always been; I see or hear or read about someone getting injured and I feel pain where their injury is. I always have. It helps me as a massage therapist, but it can also exhaust me if I'm not careful (but I have learned to be careful so it isn't bad). I do wish I could take everyone's pain away from people, but I also recognize that pain teaches us things as well. 

I have learned a lot during this Pandemic, but I will always still have things to learn. One of the big lessons that I am always trying to learn is how much each person wants as far as space and interaction. Including myself. 

I appreciate having the time to hide out in my house and slow down and learn new things. But I also want people to know that they can still reach out to me if they want someone to talk to (or write to, preferably). I am not giving as many massages to clients, but I still care. Physical touch is more dangerous at this time, but we can still connect emotionally. I have always appreciated massage therapy because it is safe touch, with rules and boundaries. That is very important to me. Like many people, I have some uncomfortable history with 'unsafe' touch. I have always looked for ways to connect with people without it becoming uncomfortable. 

So now I write. It suits me. It is quiet and peaceful and I can make room for it safely. I can share without forcing my thoughts on anyone who doesn't want to read them. And I can offer to listen to anyone who wants to share their own thoughts with me. 

And for anyone who reads this but doesn't want to reach out, know that I do care about you even if I don't know you. You matter. Your thoughts matter. You are important to this world. Please know that.

☮♡

Memories of Thanksgivings Past; Football, Food, and a Traumatic Slap

 

I just spent a bunch of time looking through old family photos to see if I had any good old Thanksgiving pictures. I was looking for a picture of our family sitting down for a meal, or even working in the kitchen. But back when I was growing up, pictures were not as easy to take, and my family didn't organize them well either. But I did find this one, taken in November of my first year of life (or that is the label on the picture at least), and it is a pretty nice picture of me and my three siblings. I am, of course, the baby. 

I don't have a lot of fond memories of my childhood Thanksgivings, and that is somewhat unfortunate because I think they were actually mostly good. I do remember quietly hiding in the living room with my brother and father watching football on TV while my sisters worked in the kitchen with my mom. And I remember that I often set the table; getting out all the fancy holiday dishes and placing them, with fancy glasses to drink out of. I really enjoyed drinking juice out of fancy wine glasses or goblets, while the adults drank wine. I know that has led to me continuing to enjoy drinking water (and wine too) out of nice glasses today. Simple pleasures. 

I also remember that we did spend a few Thanksgiving holidays visiting family in small town Illinois. It was often the only time each year that we would see my grandparents and aunt and uncles and cousins, so although they were very nice people they were almost strangers. We didn't have a big family, and I was younger than everyone else and I was shy, so unfortunately I remember feeling shy and scared a lot. I only remember a few of those trips, and my shyness made them pretty uncomfortable, even though my relatives were all really nice. I was just painfully shy, even around family. 

The years that we stayed home in Minnesota, I remember tension and discomfort. But also football. Football was a safe escape for me from the tension of the unhappy people in my family. I especially remember watching the Dallas Cowboys on TV and really admiring the calm cool demeanor of their coach, Tom Landry. At least one year it was contrasted with the crazy coach for the Oakland Raiders at the time, John Madden, and that contrast in coaching styles has always fascinated me. My dad was a soccer coach; and I saw him as being a bit like an Italian version of John Madden. I became a swim coach; and I always wanted to be more like Tom Landry. Those Thanksgiving NFL games had quite an impression on me. 

Other than the football games, the Thanksgiving meal was always the main event. I suppose I also watched the Thanksgiving parade on TV in the morning, but my memories are more centered around football and food. Unfortunately eating at the dinner table always had a bit more tension than I was comfortable with. I have memories of arguments, but even more of strained silence. But the single biggest traumatic memory I have is when my older sister burped at the table and was promptly slapped. I don't know how old I was at the time, but the slap was so shocking that I have never forgotten. The dinner table did not feel like a safe place to be. But I have always found solace in watching football on Thanksgiving. That is where my happier memories were. 

I still love watching football on Thanksgiving, and fortunately my recent memories of the holiday are more positive. I still prefer watching TV to sitting at a dinner table, but I am more comfortable with the people around me. And I can even look back at those old memories more fondly as well. Except the slap; I will never be fond of the slap. 

Re-Start/ Re-visit/ Revival

 

So here I am trying to re-start this blog again. I tried to re-start it a few years ago but stalled out quickly then. But one thing I am good at is dusting myself off and trying again. And again and again.  So here I go....again.

I *have* thought about starting a whole new blog, especially since this one never really went very far. But that is actually the point of this; I don't give up and abandon things....instead, I may step away for a bit, but for the things that are valuable to me I will come back and dust myself off and try again. 

Exercise? There's me every January 1st and every morning after the Super Bowl, re-starting some workout program. Healthy eating? Yep, those same dates. I also tend to re-start things around my birthday, and around New Moons. And I admit, the inspiration for re-starting this this time came at the New Moon a little over a week ago. 

I have been doing a lot of writing this year, especially with the pandemic, starting in March. I've written poems and stories and "essays", but have pretty much kept them to myself. Because let's be honest, even if I post things "out there", not very many people are going to read my words. So I have usually decided that it isn't worth sharing if no one is going to read it anyway. I've also wondered what kind of "bad" things could happen if someone does read my writing and then criticizes it or somehow does something else in order to hurt me... is it worth the risk to share my words? 

Sometime in the past week I decided that it was worth the risk. 

I like to read other people's thoughts. I don't want to use other people's thoughts against them. I do recognize that there are people out there that do, but I am writing for the people who are kind souls who are curious or want to feel less alone and feel a connection when reading other people's words. 

I will share my thoughts with you. 

I ask nothing in return, except perhaps a positive thought to someone in your life. Try to see the good in people and share kindness. 

Many years ago I shared a quote of my own that I still feel is true today: 

"I'm not as nice as some of you think I am, but my kindness is a strength. And I'm pretty damn strong." 

I'm not always "kind" as well, but I do try to be. I'm just a person who is trying to be good and kind and make the world a better place. I get a lot of value from reading or hearing other people's thoughts, so I am sharing mine in case it can be of value to you.

I will finish this post by copying the very first post I made on this blog back in 2009. It is still a good place to start:

MONDAY, MAY 18, 2009

My TOME.... (a definition and introduction)

The Dictionary.com definition of "tome" is:

1.	a book, esp. a very heavy, large, or learned book.

2.	a volume forming a part of a larger work.

In this case, My TOME also stands for My Thoughts, Observations, Memories, Etc.

This is my first post, so I really don't know if I will do much with it. We'll see. I tend to write a lot - volumes - but I don't usually share my writing. I'm not entirely sure that anyone really wants to read what I write, and usually what I write is really pretty private. Really I'm mostly writing for myself. But if anyone else gets something from it, then of course that is an added bonus, so I figure I can try to share and see how it goes. I don't promise anything earth-shattering or anything - just my thoughts, observations, memories, etc.

So here it is.
Enjoy....
-jc