Update for Mabon, part One
Relationships
Fifteen years ago I finally learned not to spew my anger all over other people. Stopped shouting, stopped throwing tantrums, came awfully near to stopping irritability (at least, snarkiness). This year I've been learning that I still need to have a way to express anger, hurt feelings, a way to indicate the strength of my desire for / need for change. Recently I've been observing that the very things I judge in other people are the things I do badly, too. A big one, just now, is judging my Dear Husband for not speaking up when something is troubling, for not standing up for himself. This would be, it appears, chiefly because I have been not speaking up and not standing up for myself.
We're in counseling. It seems to be helping, at least in the way of communicating with each other more clearly. I suspect neither of us is feeling more comfortable, but I think we are both feeling more clearly heard.
One thing I notice is the cycle of my discontent, which appears to have been constant in most of the past five years. If I were left to my own devices (and why would I not be that?), what would I actually choose? It has been hard to know. For several years I've been thinking to myself that I needed to have one plan on the assumption that we were together, and a different plan on the assumption that I would one day become a widow. This has mostly looked like good, astute reality-checking, as my health has been robustly good and DH's contains some longterm challenges.
Now, though, it begins to look like a cop-out. Thinking ahead to probable widowhood seems to have become a way of postponing my own life in service to not rocking the boat. Just now I struggle for clarity, struggle for what I would really like to have happen, struggle for what and how I want to communicate about that. And then there's the huge difference between what I would really like, and what I really think is possible here.
I used to think, for example, that I would love it if he would read this blog. But after the fifth invitation I gave it up. Somehow he would rather watch the same movie eleven times in a two-year period than read my stuff. Same thing has been true with the memoir I've been writing, except that the last time we fought about that he agreed to read it, and did. And then gave me two sentences of comment. He's never going to like dancing, though he will do it if I make a fuss. He's never going to be part of a deep-working spiritual group, with me or without me. He's made it clear that, the occasional experiment notwithstanding, he has no intention of stopping drinking.
What am I waiting for? Clarity about what I would do instead. Or, more and more clearly lately: Clarity about what I will do instead, where I would like to live, what I want to take with me, what I want to ask for.
This looks awfully bald on the page, but at least in this moment it's the most truth I have.
Writing
The memoir is more than 150 pages. My husband has read the present draft. My eldest son has asked to read it and I'm assembling a revision based on the comments I've received from the past two classes at Gotham Writers Workshop. I struggle to dig deeper, stay with scenes and 'showing' what happened rather than 'summarizing' or 'telling about it.' I struggle to share my feelings, not just the facts of what happened.
Yesterday I posted a couple of scenes from the 1980s, my mother interfering with my household as if I were still a pre-teen with a messy room. Can't wait to see the comments, but I think they're pretty good -- and can become better and sharper if people ask enough questions. Last night I realized that, between old diaries and old letters, I can look up almost any fact I need. Last week I found the notebooks I was writing letters to my 2nd husband in, back in the 1970s. I feel like I'm on a roll.
Chaplaincy
On the strength of my new Master of Arts in Spiritual Psychology (concentration in Consciousness, Health, and Healing) I applied to one of the New Jersey hospitals for acceptance into their Clinical Pastoral Education program -- internship for hospital chaplains. The interview went well but eventually they decided not to accept me. The Protestant head chaplain was friendly, curious about my spiritual orientation, uncertain whether I would be theologically compatible with the program. I was honest, tried my best not to be either challenging or wimpy. He was careful to give me an 'out', a way to understand my eventual rejection as the fact that the program was at capacity. I think I learned some valuable things about the process and will be better prepared when I apply to the next program. I notice that I haven't chosen the next program yet; is there something I'm waiting for?
During the month of September I'm on the team supporting someone through major surgery. Eight of us are providing 24/7 coverage until the patient is back to full strength and free of restrictions about staying in bed and so on. I'm loving the work, appreciating the validation of my skills with Reiki, cooperation, service, ministry. Noticing again that I'm much better in a time-limited intense situation than in a longterm one.
Medical
Whatever the belly disturbance was last Spring, there has been no recurrence and no trouble all summer. Does this mean my belly likes my New Jersey water better than Guatemala's? My New Jersey diet or exercise? Does it mean that my emotional tension is that much greater on the boat than home?
A new set of symptoms cropped up last month, now under investigation. In the space of two weeks I had three separate two- or three-day headaches for no known cause, all of them in the back of the head. During that time and since then I've had transient sensory disturbance, numbness, and occasional pain at various small areas of my face. Since this is bilateral it seems unlikely to be a brain lesion, but I had an MRI this morning anyway. Results -- and a neurology appointment -- next week.
Mostly I'm fine, but this morning I've caught a cold and tonight I grow weary.
Celebration
Graduation was August 29 for my new degree, mentioned above. For those of you who recall that I already had a Master's in Spiritual Psychology I'll mention that this recent graduation was for completion of the optional third-year program in Consciousness Health and Healing, and I had to give back the diploma from the 2001 degree. Graduation was a real treat, including getting to hear one of my classmates from 2001 as our keynote speaker -- and she was wonderful!
Magic
Tomorrow will be the first Full Moon I've spent with my home circle in a long time ... and I'm not sure who will be there. I am so eager for group magic, though. Tuesday a larger group is celebrating Mabon, and I am even more eager to be there. In the meantime, Sunday I am spending at a small, intense annual ritual of speaking with Persephone and Hades, taking the next step in a possible initiatory path. Stay tuned.
That's all I have energy for tonight. More soon, I sincerely hope. Love and light and laughter to you all.
Fifteen years ago I finally learned not to spew my anger all over other people. Stopped shouting, stopped throwing tantrums, came awfully near to stopping irritability (at least, snarkiness). This year I've been learning that I still need to have a way to express anger, hurt feelings, a way to indicate the strength of my desire for / need for change. Recently I've been observing that the very things I judge in other people are the things I do badly, too. A big one, just now, is judging my Dear Husband for not speaking up when something is troubling, for not standing up for himself. This would be, it appears, chiefly because I have been not speaking up and not standing up for myself.
We're in counseling. It seems to be helping, at least in the way of communicating with each other more clearly. I suspect neither of us is feeling more comfortable, but I think we are both feeling more clearly heard.
One thing I notice is the cycle of my discontent, which appears to have been constant in most of the past five years. If I were left to my own devices (and why would I not be that?), what would I actually choose? It has been hard to know. For several years I've been thinking to myself that I needed to have one plan on the assumption that we were together, and a different plan on the assumption that I would one day become a widow. This has mostly looked like good, astute reality-checking, as my health has been robustly good and DH's contains some longterm challenges.
Now, though, it begins to look like a cop-out. Thinking ahead to probable widowhood seems to have become a way of postponing my own life in service to not rocking the boat. Just now I struggle for clarity, struggle for what I would really like to have happen, struggle for what and how I want to communicate about that. And then there's the huge difference between what I would really like, and what I really think is possible here.
I used to think, for example, that I would love it if he would read this blog. But after the fifth invitation I gave it up. Somehow he would rather watch the same movie eleven times in a two-year period than read my stuff. Same thing has been true with the memoir I've been writing, except that the last time we fought about that he agreed to read it, and did. And then gave me two sentences of comment. He's never going to like dancing, though he will do it if I make a fuss. He's never going to be part of a deep-working spiritual group, with me or without me. He's made it clear that, the occasional experiment notwithstanding, he has no intention of stopping drinking.
What am I waiting for? Clarity about what I would do instead. Or, more and more clearly lately: Clarity about what I will do instead, where I would like to live, what I want to take with me, what I want to ask for.
This looks awfully bald on the page, but at least in this moment it's the most truth I have.
Writing
The memoir is more than 150 pages. My husband has read the present draft. My eldest son has asked to read it and I'm assembling a revision based on the comments I've received from the past two classes at Gotham Writers Workshop. I struggle to dig deeper, stay with scenes and 'showing' what happened rather than 'summarizing' or 'telling about it.' I struggle to share my feelings, not just the facts of what happened.
Yesterday I posted a couple of scenes from the 1980s, my mother interfering with my household as if I were still a pre-teen with a messy room. Can't wait to see the comments, but I think they're pretty good -- and can become better and sharper if people ask enough questions. Last night I realized that, between old diaries and old letters, I can look up almost any fact I need. Last week I found the notebooks I was writing letters to my 2nd husband in, back in the 1970s. I feel like I'm on a roll.
Chaplaincy
On the strength of my new Master of Arts in Spiritual Psychology (concentration in Consciousness, Health, and Healing) I applied to one of the New Jersey hospitals for acceptance into their Clinical Pastoral Education program -- internship for hospital chaplains. The interview went well but eventually they decided not to accept me. The Protestant head chaplain was friendly, curious about my spiritual orientation, uncertain whether I would be theologically compatible with the program. I was honest, tried my best not to be either challenging or wimpy. He was careful to give me an 'out', a way to understand my eventual rejection as the fact that the program was at capacity. I think I learned some valuable things about the process and will be better prepared when I apply to the next program. I notice that I haven't chosen the next program yet; is there something I'm waiting for?
During the month of September I'm on the team supporting someone through major surgery. Eight of us are providing 24/7 coverage until the patient is back to full strength and free of restrictions about staying in bed and so on. I'm loving the work, appreciating the validation of my skills with Reiki, cooperation, service, ministry. Noticing again that I'm much better in a time-limited intense situation than in a longterm one.
Medical
Whatever the belly disturbance was last Spring, there has been no recurrence and no trouble all summer. Does this mean my belly likes my New Jersey water better than Guatemala's? My New Jersey diet or exercise? Does it mean that my emotional tension is that much greater on the boat than home?
A new set of symptoms cropped up last month, now under investigation. In the space of two weeks I had three separate two- or three-day headaches for no known cause, all of them in the back of the head. During that time and since then I've had transient sensory disturbance, numbness, and occasional pain at various small areas of my face. Since this is bilateral it seems unlikely to be a brain lesion, but I had an MRI this morning anyway. Results -- and a neurology appointment -- next week.
Mostly I'm fine, but this morning I've caught a cold and tonight I grow weary.
Celebration
Graduation was August 29 for my new degree, mentioned above. For those of you who recall that I already had a Master's in Spiritual Psychology I'll mention that this recent graduation was for completion of the optional third-year program in Consciousness Health and Healing, and I had to give back the diploma from the 2001 degree. Graduation was a real treat, including getting to hear one of my classmates from 2001 as our keynote speaker -- and she was wonderful!
Magic
Tomorrow will be the first Full Moon I've spent with my home circle in a long time ... and I'm not sure who will be there. I am so eager for group magic, though. Tuesday a larger group is celebrating Mabon, and I am even more eager to be there. In the meantime, Sunday I am spending at a small, intense annual ritual of speaking with Persephone and Hades, taking the next step in a possible initiatory path. Stay tuned.
That's all I have energy for tonight. More soon, I sincerely hope. Love and light and laughter to you all.