Stories

I've been thinking a lot this week about stories. Not the kind I write, but the stories we tell ourselves about other people's words and actions. We can't help it—that's what people do, we try to make sense of things and we do it by making guesses about what the other person might have meant by what they said or did. Or we tell ourselves stories about how people OUGHT to treat us.

The problem is that so often we make the mistake of assuming these stories are truth. This is a problem because the stories we tell ourselves are often what determine how we feel and how we act toward others. And how we act toward others, in turn helps determine the stories they tell themselves and therefore how they treat us. Which means it's easy to get into a downward spiral if we—and they—tend to tell negative stories.

Even worse, the stories we tell ourselves are often based in our own fears about ourselves. It may never occur to the other person to see us as stupid but we may tell ourselves a story that assumes they do—IF that's one of our fears. On the other hand, if being stupid is NOT one of our fears then even if the other person IS trying to say we are, we either won't hear it or we won't care. Because we know on such a deep level it isn't true. But any time we tell ourselves a negative story that touches on one of our fears about ourselves we are reinforcing that fear and making ourselves unhappy—while the other person goes on their merry way.

That's the thing. The stories we tell ourselves rarely have any impact on how the other person feels—but they have a huge impact on how WE feel.

I've been thinking about this as I watch people—including myself—prepare for Thanksgiving and I listen to the stories being told. I hear expectations of being treated badly or anticipation of levels of harmony that aren't likely to play out. I find myself wondering what would happen if each of us just went forward. No stories, just waiting to see what happens. Maybe WE would act differently—and therefore get different results. Maybe WE would think of new ways to respond if someone did treat us with disrespect. Maybe it would free up our energy to be able to either ignore trouble or to walk away from it—or to choose new traditions entirely.

There is something I heard Wayne Dyer say: What you think of me is none of my business.

How much of our energy goes into worrying what others think of us? What if, instead, we could use that energy to do things that would let us like ourselves better? What if we were able to see people as they are—not in terms of whether or not they will validate us?

It's an interesting experiment, stepping back from the stories we tell ourselves and just...being. Just letting events unfold—rather than trying to anticipate them. I know this is a tough exercise for anyone who has lived in an abusive situation. Survival often meant being hyper alert and anticipating possible (probable?) dangers and situations. If, however, we no longer live in such situations, we might be better served by letting go of those defense mechanisms in most situations NOW.

I think it's going to be an interesting week. I'm trying to let go of the stories I tend to tell myself and see what happens when I do. I'm looking forward to discovering the ways my life will get better because of this new approach to life and my interactions with others. I realize, you see, what it's cost me to tell myself these stories in the past. There is real power in switching our focus from surviving/getting through a situation and in asking ourselves instead: What could make this a great experience for me?

Sending blessings and safe and gentle ((((((hugs))))))),
April_optimist

Brothers

I know I'm behind posting. Blame a bad cold to start with. Add to that contact with my brothers for the first time in a long time. One brother's house burned down. He and his family are okay but the house is a total loss. It is strange to feel all the emotions this evokes.

I grew up feeling responsible for this brother. Stopped my mother from throwing him against the wall when he was an infant and I was about 3 years old. Gave him the attention no one else in the family did. Only to have him side with my older brother at the worst of times.

I know my brothers were as trapped as I was. They made very different choices than I did about how to handle that reality. And to this day that hurts—and makes me wary of them, deservedly so or not.

I hurt for my brother and the loss he has suffered—even though I know he has a community of people who can and will help him. I ended up talking to my other brother because he, too, was concerned when neither of us could at first reach our brother to see if he and his family were okay and whether or not their home was.

I find myself still protective enough of my brother(s) not to want to specify what went wrong as we were growing up even as I know I'll never be able to trust either of them even now. I find myself angry that in many ways they have happier, more prosperous lives than I do given the past. I find myself thinking that while I do not want to be capable of making some of the choices they did, perhaps I can look at how they were able to get to where they are and whether there is anything positive I can use without violating my own core set of values.

It is strange feeling this empathy for my brother at the same time that I feel wariness and remember hurt. I am grateful I can feel that empathy. It is the lack of that capability that allowed my abusers to do what they did. I want to be someone capable of loving and caring about even those who have hurt me. (Though I am NOT going to choose to put myself in possible harms way just because I do!)

More to mull over as I drink hot tea and try to convince my poor dog that today is NOT a good day for me to take her for a walk in the windy cold outside.....

Sending blessings and safe and gentle (((((((hugs))))))) to all of you,
April_optimist

Who Am I Now, pt. 2

I've been thinking more about this and truly appreciate everyone who has taken the time to comment on my last post.

I find myself thinking that part of the problem is the definition I have of survivor of abuse. The image I carry in my head that I don't even consciously know I do. And I'm thinking that maybe what I need to do is redefine that label—just as I've redefined other major labels in my life in recent years.

Part of it is trying to decide where to put my energy and focus. Trying to figure out what my sense of responsibility is telling me to do—and how that fits with where I would put my energy and focus if this wasn't part of my life.

I find myself looking for change in all sorts of areas of my life. I took off the slipcover on the couch so that it went from dark green to lightly patterned beige. I'm looking for curtains for a couple of rooms in my house—after being perfectly happy with just blinds for the past couple of years since I moved in here. I'm rethinking how I fix my hair and the clothes I wear. I adopted my dog just a couple of months ago. I find myself even changing what I choose to eat.

In other words, it's not just the question of being a survivor—and how I define that and how “visible I do or don't want to be. I seem to be redefining myself—and my living space—in lots of ways, without knowing why or where it's taking me.

I catch myself thinking: I can't, I can't. I stop and remind myself that probably I can—no matter what it is—that I have been very successful in the past in a number of areas.

I catch myself scolding myself for some mistake made in the past—and have to remind myself that it wasn't a disaster and was part of the learning process.

I find myself calling in my mind to people who have helped me in the past—wishing they could give me answers now. And I remind myself that mostly they listened and I figured things out myself. I remind myself that the choices I regret most are the times I didn't listen to my instincts—especially when I listened to the advice of others instead.

So I'm changing. That's a good thing. I'm just not sure where it's taking me—or why it's happening now. In terms of the question of being a survivor, I suppose I need to stop thinking of it as all or nothing and perhaps ask myself instead: How can I incorporate this identity into my writing and life in a whole new way? What options haven't I thought of? How can I use the positives to give me greater confidence than if none of it had ever happened?

Bear with me as I explore possibilities. I hope that each of you are having epiphanies of your own as you make your journeys—and discovering reasons to smile and laugh and know your own strength and capabilities.

Sending blessings and safe and gentle (((((((hugs))))))),
April_optimist

Who Am I Now?

For a while now, I've been asking myself the question: Who am I now? By what labels will I define myself? Which old labels am I ready to let go of? And as I ask myself those questions, I keep coming back to the biggie: Do I want to still define myself as a survivor of abuse?

It doesn't impact my life on a daily basis any more. It doesn't trigger shame or guilt—any more. It doesn't determine my self image or expectations for what I can do—any more. And yet....there is a part of me that says it's important so that I can stand for how far we survivors can come. So that I can speak to how deep the scars can go in children who are abused. That part of me says that if I stop seeing myself as a survivor, I'm abandoning other survivors.

So why not just keep calling myself a survivor? I'm not sure. On some level I worry that despite my denials, I am limiting myself in some ways by seeing myself in those terms—as a survivor who was deeply scarred even if those scars have pretty much healed now.

So I don't know. Do we ever stop calling ourselves survivors? Why or why not? I'd really like to hear all your thoughts on this.

There was a time I thought I'd write a book about surviving abuse. Now I'm not so sure it matters—that what I have to say would be of enough interest to anyone. There was a time I thought I could be a positive example for other survivors—now I wonder if that's just hubris because each of us has to find our own way out of the pain and past. I used to wonder if I had to make my experience mean something and now I wonder if it's enough just to be happy and discover where life takes me if I don't see myself in terms of being a survivor.

Note; There was a time when I would have been denying my experience if I had said I wasn't a survivor of abuse and it would have been because I didn't want to face all the memories and emotions and shame and guilt and despair. This is different. I'm at peace with who I am and my life relative to the abuse.

I'm not usually this confused. I don't know where I'm going with all of this. No doubt I'll explore it here as I explore it within myself.

I'd really like to hear your thoughts and how YOU look at this issue.

Sending blessings and safe and gentle (((((((hugs))))))),
April_optimist

Fall

It's finally feeling like Fall here. Of course, here it means highs still in the 70s and lows in the 40s and 50s at night. But it's a change from the heat of summer. Which means I find myself contemplating all sorts of changes now.

Warning: This post may sound Pollyannish. It isn't. It's very pragmatic. This approach is the one thing that's gotten me through incredibly difficult times in my life. If I hadn't looked at life this way, I wouldn't be here. It was the antidote to fears that kept me awake in the early hours of the morning. It was got me unstuck when I was paralyzed by the changes happening to and around me. It's the only thing I've ever found that consistently works no matter what challenge I'm facing. It has turned some of what felt like horrible days into some of the most important and—at least in retrospect—good turning points of my life.

But back to my post about changes. It can feel scary when there are so many changes happening. We've got political changes about to occur. The financial situation feels like it's changing just about every day. A lot of us have family changes taking place, too.

We as individuals get to choose how we will respond to change. Do we dive in and look for opportunities or do we try to hide from it or are we somewhere in between?

Change will happen. We can put our energy into worrying about it or we can put our energy into looking for the opportunities that change will bring us.

That doesn't mean we never grieve for what we're losing! Of course we do. At the same time, though, what if we looked for what could be good about our new situation? That question is a powerful antidote to fear. It's gotten me through some of the most difficult times of my life.

Take the economy, for example. That's scary for a lot of us—and with good reason. There's no question it's a hardship for many people. What about those of us who are not yet desperate—just really worried? What good could we bring out of it? Maybe a closeness to our families as we decide—as families—how we might cut back and ways to manage with less. Maybe we can turn to the elders of the family who lived through the Great Depression for ideas we might not think of ourselves. Maybe it's a chance to rediscover each other. Maybe it's a chance to figure out if there's something we'd rather be doing than our current job. Or maybe there's some other blessing. During the last recession, in one friend's case, being laid off meant she could be there for her mother who shortly after my friend lost her job was diagnosed with a terminal illness. She will be forever grateful that during those few short months before her mother died, she was free to be at her mother's side.

Maybe this financial crisis is a chance to sit down and look at what really matters, what are our true needs and what we've used instead to try to fill emotional needs by buying THINGS instead of facing the emotions.

It's hard to do any of this if we hide our heads in the sand until we hit desperation. But what if we embrace change early on and flow with it? What if we look for what could be good—and then act to bring that good about?

Wishing for all of us the wisdom and creativity to flow with change and grow from it. Sending blessings and safe and gentle (((((((hugs))))))),
April_optimist

The Week That Got Away From Me

I've just had one of those weeks that got away from me. You know the kind I mean. Just when you're ready to unwind and relax you remember you have a meeting—and it's one you want to attend. Just as you sit down to write a blog post the phone rings and someone you care about needs help with something. The dog figures out how to pull down the drapes. Or your kid says, “Mom, I think I might have a concussion.”

Everything turns out okay but....the week gets away from you.

In a way it was a blessing. It reminded me to always double check what someone says—rather than just getting upset. It reminded me that much of what I often worry about turns out okay. Why put energy into worrying before I have to? And it reminded me that sometimes it's better to laugh than get angry. (The drapes went right back up with no damage.)

I was reminded that there are all sorts of possible ways to handle things and that there is rarely only one that's right. It reminded me that I can choose which one serves me—and those I love—best rather than automatically acting and reacting as I have in the past.

Here's hoping you're all having great weeks and they're not getting away from you! Sending blessings and safe and gentle (((((((hugs)))))))),

April_optimist

Long Week

It's been a long week and I know I'm overdue to post. Sophy needed medicine again and again it made her nuts. Thank heavens I'd seen online that this was a possible side effect or I'd have really been worried about what I was getting into with her! Once she was off it, she settled right back down again.

And my son is getting nervous about moving into the group home. It's a great group home with a really caring and well trained staff. But understandably he's nervous so I've been fielding lots of calls from him.

My daughter is talking about moving after this year—away from the city where I live. I know she needs to do what's best for her and I am sooooo grateful for the time we've had living near each other but...I'll miss her if she does go. I've been listening to her fears, too, and her elation that so many people seem so eager to help her find the right place. But then she's brilliant and unusual—far more so than she realizes.

My latest writing class....well....fewer students than I hoped are ready to spend the money to take it.

I've also been having dreams—and mine are never subtle. I dream of marriage and in the dream it requires giving up my purse and my luggage (my identity) and discovering the guy is abusive as well. I dream of everyone else eating food (which represents love) and being the only one not to have a seat.

As I said, my dreams are never subtle. They highlight for me assumptions I didn't realize I still have and that I will need to consciously dismantle. Probably by imagining what it might be like if I did have a loving partner who truly valued me.

That's one of the high points of this week, by the way. Researchers have discovered (duh!) that having or being able to imagine something which signifies safety or happiness near one gives a person the incentive to keep going forward and fight depression.

Since I always suggest that we wear clothes that make us feel happy or strong or safe and ditto for wearing jewelry or the objects with which we surround ourselves and since from the time I was a small child I would imagine situations and people where and with whom I would be safe and/or happy....this makes perfect sense to me. As I said above, DUH!!! Who needs research to discover these things? And yet I'm glad for that research. I like the confirmation that I've been on the right track all along.

Normally I'd focus just on this last thing—what we can do to feel better and the proof that it works. But this week I'm tired. This week to let you see that being an optimist doesn't mean there are never any challenges.

So how does one handle all of the above? I look for solutions to the things I can do something about—like the assumptions I still seem to have about relationships. For the things over which I have no control, I ask myself: What good could come out of this? What can I learn from this? What are the changes I might want to make in my life or my interactions with others? Is there something I can do to help make the transition easier for my son? Are there things I want to do with my daughter before she leaves the area? What kind of training do I want to work on with Sophy? If there is any kind of gap in my life, what steps do I want to take to fill it?

In other words, instead of ignoring things or putting energy into feeling like a victim I'm choosing to be proactive. I'm reminding myself that there are always choices—even if they aren't the ones I want the most. And I use my imagination as a way of looking for new possibilities and keeping myself from getting mired in negative emotions. And now there's even research that says that actually works.

Sending all of you blessings and safe and gentle (((((((hugs))))))),
April_optimist

Laps and Trust

As Sophy climbed into my lap one more time this week (and she is not a small dog!) I found myself thinking: Don't we all wish, sometimes, that we had a lap to climb into where someone bigger would hold us and make all the problems of the world go away? But just as Sophy isn't really a lapdog, most of us aren't going to be able to find someone who can do that for us either. Which means that we must be the ones to create the lives we want to have and to look at how we want to be in this world NO MATTER WHAT ANYONE ELSE SAYS OR DOES.

That's both the scary thing and the empowering thing—we have both the ability and the responsibility to make choices about our lives. We have both the ability and the responsibility to choose what we will focus on. We also have both the ability and the responsibility to seek out advice and help when we need it—knowing that ultimately it is we who must choose how we do—or don't—apply that advice and help.

I found myself thinking about that this week as I have watched some friends panicking over the financial crisis. I couldn't help thinking they had waited perhaps too long to ask for advice that might have helped them avoid the personal financial crisis they are in now.

Not that I can point fingers. In fact, I suspect I'm noticing because it reminds me that for far too long I didn't dare let myself believe I needed anyone's advice or help. After all, I had learned early and well that there was no one I could trust better than myself when I was growing up. My family was too dysfunctional and no one outside the family to whom I went for help seemed capable of grasping what I tried to tell them or if they did the advice they gave only made things far worse. Heck, adults were coming to ME for advice—and screwier yet, they were taking it! So if I hadn't believed I could figure it all out myself, I think I would have given up. I would have figured there was no point in even trying. In other words, I'm like many survivors of abuse who grew up trusting only in myself and my own capabilities.

Oh, I learned early how to seek out people who would be somewhat nurturing toward me. But...ultimately I never trusted them to be smart enough to be of help. It took years, far longer than I wish it had, for me to get to the point where I risked asking for help or advice and listening to anyone. It didn't always work out well when I did, but ultimately being willing to try led me to the counselor who saved my life. With his help, I found a way to let go of the past and become who I am now.

There are still moments when I realize I'm pushing away resources that could be useful. There are still moments when I have to remind myself that not everything rests on my shoulders. And then I look at Sophy. As clever as she is, as much of a survivor as she has shown herself to be, her life is happier and more fun because she's willing to let me help her and be part of her life. She's safer because she lets me set boundaries and show her better things to eat than dead birds and bugs and leaves.

It is, as with everything, a question of balance. We cannot abdicate our responsibility for our own lives and at the same time we pay a very high price if we are not willing to listen when that's the appropriate thing to do. We don't need to—and shouldn't—blindly take the advice of others! It is our lives, after all. But we gain if we are willing to learn from others. Wouldn't it be a better world if everyone was?

Sending blessings and safe and gentle ((((((hugs)))))),
April_optimist

Sophy and Challenges

Yes, I'm still learning from Sophy. One of the things that's clear to me is that while she likes to climb in my lap and she likes hugs and being petted, what she needs from me even more is to have me keep her safe.

I know she'd love to eat dead birds or chase rabbits and birds we find on our daily walks. But that wouldn't be a good idea and could be really bad for her health—especially if she dashed into the road, not understanding how dangerous that could be. Just as I had to keep my kids safe when they were growing up—even if it made them angry with me—I have to keep Sophy safe. What she thinks she wants isn't necessarily good for her.

I also need to be careful not to become hostage to what she wants and needs. I have to remind myself it's okay to take time for myself to do things that are important to me even if she's not happy being left home alone. And gradually she's learning that I always do come home—sometimes sooner than she expects.

I'm learning to let go of some things. To accept that there will occasionally (less and less often now) be “accidents” and that some things might get damaged as she and I learn what limits need to be set and precautions taken. And that ultimately life is sometimes messy but the joy that comes with having Sophy far outweighs these little setbacks.

As the rest of the country seems to spin into panic over the financial situation, Sophy helps me keep focused on the things I can take care of and to let go of what I can't. That's a very useful lesson right now. She reminds me that there's no point in wasting my energy trying to change what I cannot change—whether it's companies failing or Sophy's need to chase birds and rabbits—and to focus on what I can do—whether it's make sure I pay my bills on time or keep her on a short leash when I know there are likely to be rabbits and birds which could cause her to suddenly try to take off chasing them. Doesn't matter how much harder it makes my life that something is happening—the only useful focus for my energy and attention is on what I CAN do to ameliorate the situation.

And she makes me laugh. Every day. Several times a day. She reminds me that no matter what is going on in my life or the world, there are reasons to smile or laugh—if we look for them—and that when we do smile or laugh, it helps to nourish our resilience and ability to cope with those things that might otherwise knock us down.

Here's hoping you have someone or something that makes you laugh every day. And that you are finding ways to do the things you can and to let go of whatever might be out of your control. Sending blessings and safe and gentle ((((((hugs))))))),

April_optimist

Here is Sophy reminding me that there are some things one just cannot change--no matter how much one wishes one could. Like fitting through an opening that's waaaay too small....

Unexpected Hassle

I'm a bit behind on everything. I discovered this past weekend that there are things one needs to watch out for with dogs in warm climates that one doesn't worry too much about up north. Sigh It was a weekend of cleaning everything washable and shoveling unpleasant medicine down her throat. But the medicine worked and apparently I caught it right away and we're back on track.

I'm finding—big surprise!—that the more consistent I am, the clearer the boundaries are, the calmer and safer Sophy seems to feel. Gee, does that sound familiar anyone? I've come to realize that efforts to be too soothing and kind can misfire badly so that neither she nor I benefit. Does that sound familiar? She is supposed to be a year or a little over that. Perhaps. But clearly, emotionally she's younger—probably due to being swapped around a different bunch of homes to be fostered so that she still has huge abandonment issues though that's getting better, too. Again, sound familiar anyone?

I'm probably repeating things I've said before. But it's useful to understand that there are consistent patterns because a) it encourages us to look for currently dysfunctional patterns we might be playing out and to create new and healthier patterns in our lives and b) it takes away any guilt that we feel what we feel and need what we need.

Fortunately Sophy seems to be a very quick learner. She's also brave. Even after a bath that left her shaking with fright the whole time, she willingly came back into that bathroom later in the day to see what I was doing. Which means that if things have scared her in the past, she can learn to get past them now and discover they don't always have to be scary. (I'm not saying she'll get to like baths, but I'll bet she doesn't shake nearly as much next time.)

I don't know if I'm making a whole lot of sense. I've had a ton of work suddenly land in my lap this week and that combined with the extra work with Sophy has my head spinning. Hope that all of you are having discoveries of your own and reason for laughter because in the end, the more reasons we find to laugh, the more we realize that NOW we can be happy.

Sending blessings and safe and gentle ((((((hugs)))))),
April_optimist

Hurricane Missed Me

Just a quick note to let anyone know who was worried that Hurricane Ike missed where I am completely. Not even any rain out of it! Meanwhile, I'm dealing with Sophy having stuff she probably picked up in the shelter so...lots of laundry loads, trying to give her a bath and get foul tasting medicine into her and deal with her reaction to said medicine.....

Hope all of you are doing well. Sending blessings and safe and gentle ((((((hugs)))))),
April_optimist

9/11 and Hurricanes

We might be getting a hurricane here. We'll know more a day from now. Meanwhile, it brings back memories of the year my daughter started college. She was trying to pack, her dad and I were frantically trying to keep up with the water seeping into our family room from the hurricane outside, and we didn't know if her flight would even take off in the morning.

A couple of years later, 9/11 hit shortly before my daughter was supposed to go back to college. We had family and friends in NYC. We talked about her options to get out to college if the planes stayed grounded and we talked about life and what mattered and of the grief we felt over all the lives lost in the twin towers.

If the current storm continues to head our way I'll bring in all my potted plants and anything else that could be tossed around by high winds. I'm ready if we have a few days without power.

When I think of 9/11, when I read about or experience things like a hurricane, I remember not just what went wrong, but also the things people do to help each other in such times of crisis.

Every crisis is a chance for each of us to rise above our fears. Each crisis is a chance for us to look at our lives and decide what matters most. May we always remember the lives lost on 9/11 and may we always celebrate the courage and concern for others that we also saw that day.

Sending blessings and safe and gentle ((((((hugs)))))),
April_optimist

More Lessons Sophy is Teaching Me

You'd think that would be a short list. Well, maybe not if you've ever had a dog. But I'm surprised at how much Sophy is teaching me.

This past weekend my daughter brought a friend with a dog over to meet Sophy. The two dogs got along fairly well though there were some rough spots. At first Sophy was a bit too aggressive then when the other dog snapped at her she got very, very submissive. When my daughter brought out one of Sophy's toys (I'd put them away) for the dogs to play with, Sophy got very, very upset at the idea of the other dog having her toy.

What I realized was that Sophy must have encountered some very aggressive dogs in her short life. And my heart hurt for her—knowing what it's like to not be sure how to interact in ways that are neither too aggressive nor too submissive. It took me longer than I like to remember how to figure out what was appropriate.

I also realized she may never have had anything that was truly hers—that couldn't or wouldn't be taken away from her. I understood what that fear was like, too. And that desperate desire to have some things that were one's own to keep just for oneself.

I understood that cringe reaction when someone's hand came too close and she was afraid she would get hit.

I understood in the way she kept climbing into our laps, her desperate desire to find someone who would represent protection, safety and love and never, ever being abandoned again. And I recognized that desperate desire to please in hopes of gaining that safety.

I bought a retractable leash and discovered she's better on walks now than she was when I used a short fixed leash. She can run ahead or back and explore and keeps coming back to me in between. When she was on a regular leash she always pull too hard, as if afraid otherwise she'd never get a chance to explore all the things she wanted and needed to see and smell.

I don't feel that desperation any more. I know I'm safe. I know that I can have things I love that are mine and if for whatever reason I lose one or more of them that there will be others just as good. I know now how to be at ease with almost anyone. But I remember. And so I am taking care to make sure Sophy can feel safe, can feel loved, can know that her things are hers.

What it did for me was highlight the expectations I once had and echoes of those expectations I might still feel in certain situations. It reminded me that I may still limit myself needlessly at times because of what once was my reality—if I don't consciously challenge the assumptions I still carry inside.

Watching Sophy duck a Frisbee rather than running to catch it, I see how fear robs one of joy one could be having playing.

When Sophy dashes out the front door and into the street before I can catch her, I realize that her fear of being abandoned causes her to do things that put her in harms way—and I am reminded that I need to be sure that a fear of being abandoned doesn't cause me to act equally dangerously.

I know that in the days ahead, the time I'm taking to help Sophy feel safe and secure will pay off. And I am reminded that the time I take to make sure that I feel safe and secure is just as important for me.

Here's hoping all of you are able to find ways to feel safe and secure a little more than you have before. Sending blessings and safe and gentle ((((((hugs)))))).

April

PS Here's a picture of Sophy in front of the gate she's pulled open at one side....

Sophy and Life

As Sophy and I learn to live with each other, I find myself thinking what a good match we are—both intelligent and resilient and capable of love despite all odds. And those were very long odds. If there is anyone who can understand her fears of abandonment, it's a survivor like me. If there's any dog who could make me laugh enough to overlook some of the challenges, it's one who can stand up on her hind legs and figure out how to open a sliding patio glass door with her snout and front paws. (I was too startled and laughing too hard to think to take a picture!)

Sophy is reminding me that too much self-sacrifice isn't good for either party.

She is remind me that clear rules and boundaries are easier on everyone.

She is reminding me that play is an important part of the day—all through the day.

She is reminding me that one can be loving and still speak up for oneself whenever necessary.

I'm sure as heck getting more exercise since I got Sophy!

She's reminding me that we can defy the odds. We can choose who we will be no matter what our backgrounds might have been and learn to get past old hurts to trust when trust would seem to be impossible.

Here's hoping you have someone or an animal in your life who reminds you of things like this, too.

Sending blessings and safe and gentle ((((((hugs)))))),
April_optimist

Choosing

Yes, I'm still delighted with Sophy. I love discovering how clever she can be—and how sweet. We've had a tussle or two over who is alpha but we're getting that sorted out too—in a loving way. Gently. With firm boundaries but not anger. I see her exploring issues of safety and abandonment and am glad that I can provide her the love and safety she deserves.

As I've watched various things happen this past week, I find myself thinking that one good thing about being a survivor is that we are—I think—far more likely to be willing to question our own assumptions and to look for ways to grow and stretch our comfort zones.

I have watched my ex-husband's family fuss about my daughter coming to visit her grandmother and have talked with her about how we cannot change anyone—we can only choose who we want to be and act in ways that are consistent with what we value most. We've talked about not letting the ideas of others limit us and stepping back, taking a deep breath and trusting that we will find solutions.

I've watched my daughter play with Sophy and seen what comfort that brings both of them.

I've talked with friends who are going through difficult moments and reminded myself of the costs of being dogmatic and angry and the power in being willing to let go of those things and trust that each day the path will reveal itself.

As I've interacted with Sophy and looked for ways to successfully integrate her into my life, I've noticed that when I start to get upset, it all gets worse and when I am willing instead to let go and love, I can figure out what will work best—for both of us.

There is power in choosing who we want to be and how we want to live our lives. There is comfort in knowing we are living in a way that is consistent with what we most value.

Now for a Sophy story. You knew there was going to be one, didn't you? Today I left Sophy alone for an hour—the longest since I brought her home. Put her in a room with a gate at the doorway. Came home to be greeted AT THE DOOR by Sophy. The clever girl had figured out how to pull the gate open on one side (it's only pressure mounted) and slip through the opening. Now since there were no accidents and she hadn't gotten into or damaged anything, I wasn't as upset as I might have been. If anything, I have to keep from laughing at how clever she is. She was extremely pleased with herself, I might add, and who could blame her?

Sending blessings and safe and gentle ((((((hugs))))))),
April_optimist

My New Dog

Well, I have my new dog. Since she came from a shelter, there's no way to be sure what her parentage might be. She's probably about a year old and weighs 45 pounds—bigger than I thought.

I grew up with dogs. At times they were my greatest refuge. At the shelter they told me this one is “needy.” Maybe. She did want to play at 4 am. On the other hand, maybe what she needs is just to know she's safe. She's lying on her fleece blanket sleeping as I type.

One of the good things about adopting a 1 yr old dog is that she's pretty much housebroken. I've housebroken puppies before and am just as glad not to have to deal with that this time.

It's odd to have to change how I do things. And a part of me resists that. But another part of me is glad knowing that it's really important to shuffle our schedules and do things new ways. Plus it's sooooo soothing to pet a dog! And nice to get unconditional love. I have no doubt that in a week or two we'll settle in nicely and I'll know how long I can leave her alone and how much exercise she needs and she'll know what she can do and what she can't.

After waiting what seems like forever, everything happened very fast.

Here's hoping you have some unconditional love in your life this week! Sending blessings and safe and gentle ((((((hugs)))))),
April_optimist

Silences

First, no word yet on adopting the dog. Silence there.

Second, my daughter (and I) just found out her grandmother (my ex-mother-in-law) has Alzheimer's. No one told the grandkids. Don't ask me why. My daughter is scrambling to find a way to go visit her grandmother before classes start in the fall. And furious that no one told her sooner. The family seems surprised she thinks it's a big deal or that she wants to come and see her grandmother NOW.

Silences. No matter what the reason, silences hurt. It's too easy to misunderstand why no one spoke or shared information. It's upsetting not to be given the option to act—because one didn't know what was going on.

Silences hurt when no one tells about abuse.

Silences hurt when there is a secret that keeps someone from helping or spending time with a person who is slipping away.

Silences hurt when no one knows why.

Silences hurt even when no harm is meant.

It's easy to recognize the silences that hurt US. The greater challenge is to recognize those silences on our part that may hurt others. Sometimes we think it's a kindness. Or we're afraid we'll say the wrong thing. Or maybe we just feel overwhelmed.

This week has been a reminder for me that regardless of our reasons, silences can hurt. Sometimes silences ARE necessary. I know that all too well. It's just good to be consciously aware of the choices we make and the potential pitfalls when it comes to silences.

Here's hoping there are no hurtful silences in your lives now or ever again. Sending blessings and safe and gentle (((((((hugs))))))),

April_optimist

Dogs and Emotions

You wouldn't think getting a dog would bring up so many emotions. Well, one expects emotions such as excitement, some concern about what having a dog will entail, etc. I found something else, though, when I started seriously looking for a dog to adopt over the past week or two.

I'd been thinking about it for some time. I assumed I wanted a collie or a sheltie but kept thinking it wouldn't be fair to the dog when the summers get so hot here. (We've already had over 40 days where the high was over 100 degrees this summer and since it's only the beginning of August we can expect quite a few more. Dearly as I love collies and shelties I can't help but feel it would be selfish of me to have one here.) But...maybe. Did I want to find a breeder or rescue a dog from a shelter? There were financial, ethical and breed specific issues to consider.

I started looking. The only dog I found that I liked—and she is such a sweetheart!—is probably a spaniel pointer mix. (Maybe. Since she's in a shelter, no one knows for sure.) Great! Except...it threw me. I found all kinds of emotions welling up. When I stepped back, I realized that having collies is tied up in my mind/emotions with the situations I was in when I had them. My collies were my refuge then and there were reasons they were the only kind of dog my family would consider.

Not getting a collie meant challenging assumptions I'd had for so long—and didn't realize I had.
Not getting a collie also meant letting go of that part of my life and stepping into new possibilities. Which should have been a no brainer GOOD thing! But our minds seem to be wired to fear new possibilities—at least mine is. I had to consciously choose to remind myself that this could be great in terms of freeing my mind to see lots of things in a new way.

Not getting a collie felt like betraying the ones I'd once had—especially once I admitted to myself that they hadn't been perfect and/or that maybe I didn't want some of the challenges that go with caring for a collie.

I went 3 times to look at the dog. The first two times it was as if I was afraid to let myself get attached to her. And yet...in so many ways she's a perfect choice. There's something about her. She's a sweetheart. Even though she comes from a shelter, she was fostered for 6 months (since she was a puppy) so she's socialized to a large degree. She's trained to walk with the person holding her leash—rather than tugging them over (the way my collies sometimes used to do). She's not too large, she's not too small. She has the calmest temperament of any dog I've ever owned. And did I mention that I can take her for walks without her trying to pull me over?

But I wanted to be sure I'd truly fall in love with her—because every dog deserves to be loved. I waited to be sure I could welcome her with joy into my life.

And now I've finally put in the application. Assuming it gets approved, I may have her home by this time next week. (They will spay, microchip, test and vaccinate her before I get to take her home. That's AFTER they process my application and assuming they approve it.)

I didn't expect the emotional stuff all of this brought up. At the same time, I'm thrilled to be able to let go of leftover limiting beliefs I didn't know I had. I share this with all of you because knowing that things can bring up unexpected emotions when we least expect it makes it easier to cope—at least for me—when they do. And hey, you're my friends so I figure it's good to share my happiness with you, too! And I am happy that soon—I hope!— I'll be bringing home my new dog.

Sending blessings and safe and gentle ((((((hugs)))))),
April_optimist

Getting Over Emotional Hangovers

Jumping in Puddles asked a great question: How do we bounce back from emotional hangovers?

The first step is recognizing this is what's happening and that we don't have to feel this way—we have a choice.

Second step is doing what I call emotional aerobics. This means:

1)Reminding ourselves of every situation we have been able to handle, every success of our lives, every strength we have, every reason that exists for us to believe we can cope with what is happening.

2)Doing things that make us smile and therefore reminding ourselves that NO MATTER W HAT we can have moments of joy in our lives.

3)Asking what good could come out of the situation.

When we do these things we are reminding ourselves that we are not hostages to anyone else or any events in our lives ANY MORE. It is how we choose to handle the challenges that arise in our lives that determines the quality of our lives.

I know that's hard to believe when we're in the middle of a difficult situation. Believe me, it took conscious effort and daily aerobic emotional exercises to cope with the chaos of my visit back to NJ. And even so it took me a week to shake off all the effects—in large part because until the emotional hangover lifted, I didn't even recognize that was what was going on. Even so, doing the 3 steps above made a huge difference.

I didn't get mired in fear based thinking. I didn't retreat to old behavior patterns with my ex or with my son. I didn't give in to depression. I did manage to find some things to bring back with me. I did manage to be upbeat with my son and set appropriate limits. I did manage to cope with the crises that kept arising—without getting drawn into doing things my ex asked me to do that are no longer appropriate (like finding and buying 4 new tires for his car).

Remembering that we DO have choices, that we can create moments of joy, that we can choose how we respond to situations is immensely powerful AND the key to bouncing back from emotional hangovers.

Here's hoping all of you keep bouncing back from any emotional hangovers you might be facing! Sending blessings and safe and gentle ((((((hugs))))))).

April_optimist
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PS Check out what Keepers has done with some of the sayings from my Survivor's Manifesto!

Emotional Hangovers

Well, I've figured it out. Emotional hangovers last about one week after I get back from NJ and dealing with my ex and the old house. One week to shake off those patterns into which I sometimes fall. One week to shake off the self-doubt and depression. One week to remember who I am NOW and how good my life is NOW. One week to shake off the regrets and self-recriminations.

Now I can get back to my work whole heartedly. Now I can put my mind to really looking at what I want to do and have in my life. One week to be back to laughing and feeling good.

Whew!

What triggers YOUR emotional hangovers—and how long does it take YOU to get over them?

Sending blessings and safe and gentle (((((((hugs))))))),

April_optimist