Scars

About 10 days ago, I was cooking dinner and I burnt my hand. It left a painful welt. I immersed it in cold water and "shook off" the pain, while carrying on with the food preparation.

Over the next few days, the burn scabbed over and was really unsightly. I just left it alone. I had a couple of people grab my hand to have a look and said "Oh wow. Doesn't that hurt?." Again, I brushed it off. I was tough. I mean, it was just a burn.

A few days ago, I realized it wasn't healing properly so I went and applied some antiseptic and a band-aid. Low and behold, it's beginning to heal. I might end up with a scar. At this point, it's hard to tell. I'm just pleased that the darkness of the scab has subsided and the injury is starting to itch, telling me that it's healing.

I was walking down the hall today and I looked down at my hand. I was suddenly struck by the thought of how incredible the human body is. It can heal itself if the proper attention is applied.

Within another 10 steps, I realized that our heart is part of that very human body that heals itself.

I paused to consider the bruises and scars that are on my heart.

I love with vigor. Be it loving friends, family or a significant other. In the beginning, it's almost as if I am going into battle. Like a warrior, nothing will stop me from penetrating another's heart and conquering it.

Looking back on my loves ( all of them, friends and family included) I can see how the "battle" continues long after the conquest and with it comes challenges, which I'll call stab wounds. These stab wounds disguise themselves as lies, betrayal, loss of trust, small hurts, jealousy, competition, insecurity and, sometimes, rejection.

Let me say this; not all relationships leave me bruised and battered. And even the ones that wound me are well worth the effort.

I've noticed, in the last 18 months or so, however, that I've been withdrawing my "troops" and backing off from the battlefield. This is because my heart has been injured. It's been scarred, burned, stabbed, whipped, and even torn from my chest cavity.

It's a horrible feeling to become someone that you don't recognize anymore. It's a horrible feeling to hold back love and generosity and to approach every new relationship with trepidation or indifference.

It's a horrible feeling to not feel.

As I was considering all of this, the elevator door opened. I walked in and pressed "Parking". Before I got to my destination, I had a very important realization.

To survive in life, we need to eat. Just because I burned my hand doesn't mean that I will stop preparing food for myself. I don't have a choice - in order to survive, I must eat. In order to eat, I must cook.

The same can be said for love. In order to survive in life, we need love. We need love from our family (blood or chosen), our friends, and our lovers.

I don't have a choice. In order to survive, I must love.

In order to love, I must bandage my heart and head back out on the battlefield.

Bring your "A" game

This month has been full of stress for me. Many of my most important relationships have come into question and I've had to sit back and re-evaluate what I want from these relationships versus what I am actually getting and I've been looking at my role in the successes or failures of these alliances.

I think it's easy to blame others when things don't go our way. It's easy to make a list of what you don't like about the other person or the situation. It pushes the accountability away from ourselves and projects it onto others. Piece of cake!

But....it doesn't taste good. After awhile, that "cake" sits in our gut and rots, reminding us that we might have missed an important ingredient: Our own contribution.

Lately, I've had a major stomach ache. Something just hasn't been sitting right. I'm uncomfortable.

I'm uncomfortable because something has to change. And change sometimes hurts.

I have more than a few friendships that I've been looking at. I mean, REALLY looking at.

Lately I've been feeling overlooked and used. Overlooked in the practical sense, but also by not being heard. Used in the literal sense and also by being used as amusement and to fill up the vessels of insecurities that some of my friends have. I'm not insecure, but I don't have enough confidence to give away, either.

I've been sitting back and watching some pretty bad behavior.

People acting like children at my expense.

Or, so I thought.

I realize it is at their own expense.

You see, when we misbehave or act out of alignment, others notice. Because so many of my relationships have 2 sides; real life and/or internet friendships, my senses have heightened. Because I can't be in the presence of some of the people I care about, I have to rely on my interpretation of what they say and do online. And I have to say, I'm kind of disappointed in what I've read and seen lately.

It's made me think about the kind of relationships I want to have. And I realized that I want authentic, honest, and mutually respectful relationships. Enough with the cryptic, demanding or controlling behavior. Enough with the guessing games. Enough with the bullshit.

In real life, I wouldn't put up with a fraction of what I have put up with online. I do think that many people opt for a strictly online friendship because they can't get real. Hiding behind a computer is still hiding. It doesn't, however, cover up one's blatant insecurities. And in real life, you can communicate honestly with words, body language and eye contact. It's hard to be deceived, unless one wants to be. Admittedly, I have wanted to believe something different about certain people who, in the end, have disappointed me. In real life and online.

So, I've said what I need to say to a few people. And they heard what they wanted to hear. I realize that my needs and requests will mostly go ignored. I've heard plenty of excuses about why they do and say the things they do, and I'm a no excuse kinda gal. Say what you mean and mean what you say.

I do expect people to validate my concerns and not make excuses. I have noticed, in my life and as of late, that when I tell people what I need from them, or share my insecurities, I end up comforting them instead of being certain we've met on the same emotional and mature level. It's very disappointing. But, what can you do?

I put value on my relationships. Mostly because I care, and also because at the point of me being invested I've shared confidences with people. My friends are my keepers.

Until they are not.

One of my flaws is that I am stubborn and once I've made up my mind about someone, it takes a lot for me to change my mind. I'm working on that, but in the meantime I have to honor myself and ask of others what I expect. I cannot go on placating to others needs if they blatantly ignore my very basic requests.

A good friend of mine sent me an email and in it she said "...It’s your belief in others. That you give them the chance to step up and play their A game, even if they don’t, the fact that you still have faith in others to do so, is something to celebrate"

I want people to change. I want them to be and act differently. Because I can see how much brighter they would shine and how much deeper our friendships could be.

Much like myself, I don't think they're capable. People are going to do what they want or are programmed to do.

I've pulled out my owner's manual and realized that I was programmed to put myself 2nd.

My owner's manual also tells me how to rewire my programming. I'm currently on the chapter called

"You are worth the weight of your feelings and needs. Don't settle for anything less."

::pulls the plug::

Patterns

Awhile ago, I updated my facebook with this:

"Some people's patterns are like the fabrics that make up Don Cherry's suits : Obvious and screaming "Look at me! I'm making a statement!". You may not like what's being said, but even if you turn down the volume, that fabric is still staring you in the face".

I typically get a lot of comments on my facebook statuses and that one was pretty much ignored. I suspect because people didn't understand my point. I do have a lot of American friends, and Don Cherry is a Canadian icon, so I can understand the Yankees not getting it, but I also think it's a bit ambiguous or simply doesn't make sense. So, let me explain....

If you were born in Canada, and if you have a pulse, chances are that when you were young you were introduced to "Hockey Night In Canada", our weekly Saturday night fill of NHL Hockey. It's been a Canadian institution and has been for, what seems like, forever. Don Cherry's "Coach's Corner" is a staple of that broadcast. Between the 1st and 2nd periods, Don and his right hand man, Ron Maclean, discuss hockey. Or, rather, Don basically shares his very sharp and one sided opinion about what is going on in hockey. All the while, wearing the most outrageous custom made suits. Some people love Don and his outspoken opinions, other people dislike him. People that like him ( like me) stop what they are doing and watch/listen to Don for that brief time. Others mute his segment. His outspoken personality is predictable (although not always what he says) and his suits are always outrageous (even though they are never the same).

Here's the thing; People can mute his segment, but even if they catch it for a second and change the channel they usually catch a glimpse of Don's very loud suits. They make their own statement. You can try to ignore them, but week after week, there they are: demanding to be noticed.

What does this have to do with people's patterns?

When you get to know someone quite well, or have the pleasure/displeasure of associating with them often, you pick up on their patterns. Perhaps they are always late. Maybe they embellish details every time they tell a story. Some people have addictive personalities and predictable patterns of abuse/remorse/manipulation. Others are incongruent with what they say vs. what they do. Either way, we all have patterns.

Those of us who recognize the patterns in others, yet allow them to continue also have a pattern of allowing that to happen against our better judgment.

I'm a big observer of patterns. I have mine memorized. I often don't recognize them until I'm in full on "pattern" mode, but I do see them. When others see them, and point out my flaws, I'm grateful. I try to take that input and adjust my patterns accordingly, if it's for the better (which it usually is).

I see them in others all the time too. And I file them away in my memory bank for future reference.

Lately I have been withdrawing those references and putting them together like a puzzle - or if we are still using the Don Cherry example - like a suit.

I take the recurring behavior that I see in someone and lay it out on the table. I piece it together with other indications of the same behavior from that person and piece by piece, the entire fabric of the situation starts to show me the entire picture, or suit, if you will.

Sometimes it's a beautiful suit and it fits me. It's made of beautiful fabric, has a nice texture, and is incredibly comfortable. There might be a few loose buttons or a snag here or there, but those flaws never ruin the integrity of the suit. In many cases, they add character.

Other times, I find that the suit doesn't quite fit. It may have, at one point. Or, I may simply have been in denial mode. (We all have a pair of jeans sitting in the closet that we are saving for a time when we were the size we used to be) Let's face it, sometimes I've grown and I've changed and those jeans or that suit just don't fit me the same way. Maybe the fabric is outdated. Perhaps the zipper is broken. Or, it could just be that the fabric is plain old ugly and I'm not even sure what compelled me to add that garment to my closet.

Lately, I've been cleaning out my closet. For some garments ( people ) I have simply shuffled them around the closet to the "less often worn" section, and other pieces have been entirely removed. Some outfits need some extra TLC and they are put aside for further care and mending. And, yes, some are put in the "When I change back to who I was" pile.

Here's the deal. I'm not going to change back to who I was. It's impossible. I'm on a fast-paced journey at the moment. And my new fabric is bright, light and comfortable. The items in the "when I change back..." pile are usually tight and constricting and often give me "muffin top".

The people in my life who are incongruent in their behavior, or the ones who aren't ready to get real and update their fabric are going to be left behind. And they will likely be paired up with separates, in someone else's closet, that compliment them. And that's okay.

If you are in my life, I'm watching you. Mostly because I love you, and I love having you in my life. I love watching human behavior in action.

I'm not judging, I'm just noticing.

And just as I know I'm not fooling you, or hiding my patterns from you, I can't be fooled either.

Musical Notes or Majestic Mountains?

I had the recent good fortune of attending the investiture of a family friend of mine into the Order of Alberta. The inductees included our friend, who had started a special needs school, a world renowned paleontologist, a celebrated Native artist, several advocates for human interests, and even our former Provincial Premiere. It was quite a remarkable day for me to be included in.

The most remarkable event of the day for me was meeting the sons of the Paleontologist. One of them sat beside me at dinner, the other across from me. Both arrived at the table smiling, warm and approachable. I noticed that there was something a little different about the brother across the table. As he made efforts to introduce himself and find out about the women on either side of him, I realized that he is deaf. This did not stop him from being one of, if not the most social person at the table. I was immediately drawn to him and his enormous smile. He made his way around the table in conversation as best he could and finally asked me my name. I suddenly started to "sign" my name using the sign language alphabet. I was shocked that I did this, as I hadn't used sign language in over 20 years. Yet, all of a sudden my ego disappeared and I attempted to communicate with him, despite how awkward I looked. He had inspired me within 30 seconds of him arriving at the table.

I enjoyed the conversation I had with the hearing brother. We discussed his schooling and occupation, which surprisingly didn't include paleontology,(he'd had enough exposure to that vocation as a child) but my favorite past-time; music. So, with this brother, I also developed an instant kinship.

I am very sensitive to people being included in things, especially if they are at a disadvantage to enjoy an gathering. Throughout dinner, we all communicated with the deaf brother easily. After dinner there were 8 speeches, which took about 90 minutes. Having asked the hearing brother if his sibling was born deaf or developed it later, he informed me that the disability was from birth and his brother was not able to hear at all. I realized how boring it may seem to a person who cannot hear or read the lips of the people giving the speeches. I felt bad for him, but when I looked over and caught his eye several times, he had a huge smile on his face. He radiated joy the entire night.

I learned from his brother, the musician, that his deaf sibling was an amazing "Rock Band" drummer, and had a complete drum set with cymbals and 2 kick drums! I imagine his ability to focus on the challenge of playing the drums, without being distracted by a singer or guitarist, coupled with his enthusiasm, made him excel at a task most would reserve for a hearing person. I'm sure that there is also a vibrational feedback that he gets when playing, but his ability is undeniable.

The hearing brother asked me the oddest question near the end of dinner. He asked "If you could choose between being blind or deaf, which would you choose?". Without any hesitation, I answered "I'd rather be blind. If I couldn't hear music, I really don't think I could survive." I think he felt the same way. However, two and a half weeks later that question has lingered. My answer has volleyed back and forth over that period of time.

After pondering it, and asking others the same question, I really don't know what I would choose. Well, that's not entirely true....I would choose neither.

One person answered me by saying "being blind would be scary." And I have to agree, although, would it be scary if being blind was all you knew and you could talk to people, hear music, and hear someone say "I love you"? I don't know. Hearing music is all I can think about.

Then I realized that being deaf would only be terrible for me if I hadn't heard music before. If I developed the inability to hear, but had heard music in my life, I would be okay. I wouldn't be perfect, but I would survive. I could see things that jarred a memory and therefore a song that I could hear in my head, or knowing the words and melody, could even sing.

I'm very visual. Eye contact is important to me. Smiles are important to me. Body language is important to me. You can't hear some one's eye's or see their posture. I think sight would be crucial to my enjoyment of life. I live near the mountains. I cannot imagine not being moved by the majesty they exude. I don't think you can hear that. You have to see it to understand.

I think now I would choose to be deaf over blind.

My new friend has taught me that you can hear music even when you can't hear music. And that's all I need.

Thank you, D.