Archives for June 2015

28Jun

I Don’t Know When It Happened

Girl Shopping is the Best.

Girl Shopping is the Best.

I don’t know when it happened. It happened recently, perhaps after I read Nora Ephron’s book “I Feel Bad About My Neck”.
It may have been watching the Dove commercials…
Here is what happened: I decided that my body is okay. I will not concern myself with fixing what is truly appropriate and okay. I’m 56 and it’s okay, I am not reed slender, my breasts do not stand up. My breasts laid down a very long time ago, probably along the time I was breastfeeding my third child. So what set me free from an obsession with a young body?
I think it was none other than me deciding that I did not want to chase me. I think I decided that I am secure, my place is decided and I cannot chase the dreams of materialism. I look somewhat the same with or without 10 pounds, my neck droops, my eyelids droop and it’s fine. I am who I am.
In a broader sense, women are beautiful as they are. We offer life and love, we give, we receive, we do what it takes to take care of our families. What matter what shape our bodies take?

21Jun

Coping Strategies

Let yourself believe that what you need is okay. Be gentle and supportive with yourself. Know that as you make your way to mental and emotional health and well being, you will need to suspend all “shoulds” in your life.
Call a friend, talk as much as you need to. When you are done, call your mother and / or your father. Call someone that you know loves you. Relax without purpose. Give your brain the time and the space to work through the pain, the anguish, the trauma, the ordeal. Whatever it is that hurts you, do not pursue it by talking about it over and over again or thinking about it over and over again.
Give yourself peace. Ask for help if you need to. Take the dynamic of time and make it work for you. Allow yourself the time, the support, the kindness to walk through your healing. And then walk…

09Jun

Shutter Island

He asked “would you rather live as a monster, or die as a good man?” As he walked towards the death of his consciousness.

08Jun

Hey Dry Cleaning Lady!

I would never expect you to risk your job, just to be fair. It is incredibly unfair the way the dry cleaning industry charges for women’s shirts. Almost always the dry cleaner wants 4.99 per woman’s shirt while charging 1.99 for my husband’s shirt. Why is that? I have been told many things, for example: women’s shirts are smaller and have to be ironed by hand, without a shadow of a doubt, this is a lie! I have been told that ironing ruins rayon…do I look ignorant to you? Or the famous victim stance, which is, “we don’t have any control”. I get it, maybe you don’t have control.
Here is my problem: you – dry cleaning lady – Why are you so zealous in this chore of overcharging women? I see that it is a chore and someone must do it, but why are you so happy and so self righteous about overcharging women for pressing their shirts? You are a woman, so surely you understand the state of the world, surely you must realize that the downtrodden should liaison with each other. Women can be your chore, rather than making someone else rich on the backs of working women, be part of the women of the world.

06Jun

It Was my Mother and Father…

They are the two who taught me the difference between emotional intelligence and the intelligence quotient. My father was a genius, my mother not so much, in the realm of intelligence. My mother understood every nuance of human feelings and behavior. My mother’s gifts were not valued and my father’s gifts were valued. It must have been hard for my mother to realize the social significance of her talents – it couldn’t have been easy to hear “what is you, does not count in society”. My father was a member of the cohort that established IQ testing as a scientific concept. He was in the armed forces in the 40s and 50s when the concepts were being experimented with. He was a superstar who always scored higher than others.
It is a bleak reality of that time in our country that my mother suffered so much. It is even ironic that my mother was the more successful of the two of them. It was my mother who got a job with a living income, it was my mother who supported us, not my father.
My father wandered the country eschewing things such as employment and stability, always looking to the next rainbow for satisfaction and happiness.
Now that I am who I am – I thank destiny every day that I had these two to raise me. For whatever reason I ended up with my father’s conflicted brain, but having had my mother as my touchstone, I have a deep appreciation for the emotions and for love. It was my mother who taught me the good of life.
It is for this reason (appreciation for other human characteristics) that I am able to listen to my husband. My husband taught me to reach out to those I love and tell them how important they are to me. My husband taught me to have infinite patience with those who struggle to find their way. If not for the love of my mother and father – both – I don’t think I would be able to value who we are and who we are meant to be.