Being Mindful about Love

When I was a child, my father habitually manipulated his children to feel sorry for him. As a complementary activity, he subtly coerced us to behave in certain ways that he claimed would make him happier. The tagline was, “If you love me, you’ll . . .”

My training was that when you loved people, you did things that you didn’t necessarily want to do, things that you, in some dim but emerging awareness, knew violated your integrity and sense of self.

As an adult who learned a thing or two about psychology, I came to realize that his behavior was that of a self-proclaimed victim who used this role to dominate others. I learned to spot specimens of that type and refused to give in to their strategies.

Recently, though, someone made some classic Victim-as-Dominator moves on me on the false premise that I had wronged him. The stakes were very high. Either I gave in, or our friendship would be over.

When an acquaintance attempts to dominate you, the cost of refusal is relatively low. This, however, was someone who meant a lot to me, someone I loved and whom I thought loved me.

After a certain amount of anguish, I turned to meditation and mindful contemplation. I came to understand that for the sake of my integrity I needed to turn down the invitation to be dominated and coerced by him. To be untrue to myself for the sake of friendship would render the friendship meaningless.

My decision put my feet on high moral ground, but my heart was in tatters. I needed to heal it with something more effective than the bandage of “You did the right thing.”

I’m not a regular Bible reader, but I remembered a famous Biblical passage about love and looked it up. This verse in Corinthians 13:4-8 says as much to me about love as anything I’ve read.

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.”

When I read it, I found my cure. I recognized that what I thought was love on his part was the familiar “I will love you if . . .” Though the relationship had had many high points, his demand had no element of love in it. It isn’t what I want to either give or receive in my life.

In the end, this experience is a gift. I’ve removed a toxic relationship from my life and received clarity. My New Year’s resolution is to shine that clear light on all of my relationships—because I want to live a life in which I experience and share love.

Have you had a positive experience in letting go of a damaging relationship? I’d love to hear about it.

Losing Things

In November I took a workshop. During the course of the two days, I lost things.

I lose and misplace things from time to time, but this was an extravaganza.

On Saturday night, I was back home, getting things out of the car, and I couldn’t find my water bottle. I told myself not to make this a big deal, went into the house, and made it a big deal. By the time I decided to look in the car again, the bottle had turned into a sacred chalice.

I left the house, and my cat, Pangur, ran outside for the first time since she joined me six months ago. This was probably a “I’ll show you you’re not the only one who can leave,” commando action, but I was beginning to feel that the universe was conspiring against me.

It was dark outside, she’s a black cat, and she cleverly dove into the bushes and became invisible. This was definitely a big deal. I’d never find her; she’d get hit by a car; and I’d suffer for the rest of my life. I recovered long enough to go back inside for a bag of treats, which I took outside and rattled. She forgot that she was punishing me and ran back into the house.

The next morning in the workshop room, I found the water bottle on the table where I’d left it. After lunch, though, I couldn’t find my purse. I fled the workshop and went downstairs to the hotel front desk, where no purse had been turned in. This was a BIG deal. Not only was my life over, but I wouldn’t even be able to drive home.

I went back upstairs, looked on the floor, and then for no particular reason, looked up at the coat rack. The purse was sitting on top. Apparently, someone put it there.

Why? I asked myself when the workshop was over. Was I losing my mind?

Yes. During the course of the workshop’s intensive exercises, I’d lost beliefs that were old friends, maybe not the best friends to have, but they’d provided the illusion of security. I was there for the purpose of losing them, so I thought I couldn’t mourn about that. Instead, I transferred my panic to a water bottle, cat, and purse.

I learned an important lesson from this: that the casting away of core beliefs, habits, and other structures I’ve built to keep myself supposedly safe IS A BIG DEAL. If I don’t acknowledge that it can be frightening, I’m going to frighten myself in other ways because the emotions, whether they be fear, grief, or massive insecurity, need to be expressed.

Mindfulness means attentiveness to my emotional state. When I’m tuning into myself, I can take the necessary precautions against the results of inner chaos. I can deliberately notice where the water bottle, the purse, and the cat are. More important, I put myself in training to be aware of my outer world, too. In such a state, each moment matters.

I don’t know if I’ve completely learned the lesson, but I’m sure I’m getting closer.

The workshop, by the way, was called Matrix Reimprinting, and it was pretty great. If you ever take it, though, hang on to your stuff—your physical stuff. Let the rest go, but be sure to wave good-bye.

Giving Thanks Mindfully

I don't always do this, but this Thanksgiving I'm going to make a list of the many things for which I'm thankful.

Among these things are the many examples of seen of people who have risen above the limitations of prejudice and bigotry to welcome those who need who need new homes and communities and to offer support to those who have been the victims of vandalism and hatred. 7-year-old Jack Swanson is a shining example.

A Small Boy's Generosity is Unexpectedly Rewarded.

We can also take comfort in seeing how animals don't see themselves as separated by species.

A Cat, a Fawn, and Louis Armstrong's Wonderful World.

If you celebrate Thanksgiving, I wish you a blessed day and reasons every day to feel blessed.

99 cent Kindle Sale

Members of Indie Writers Unite! have joined together to offer ebooks in all genres for 99 cents each. You can find best-sellers and undiscovered treasures from December 26 to December 29. Fill up your Kindle with a good start for 2014!

Holiday Flashmobs

I love flashmob videos, and I've searched for some that express the highest ideals of the holiday spirit. It was one of my best excuses ever to spend time on YouTube.

I wish you all a lovely holiday season and the best New Year ever.

Beautiful dance moves and a surprise ending that redefines Christmas.

Redefining Christmas:

This remains one of my favorites.

Hallelujah Chorus in the Food Court

This isn't holiday themed, but it took place during the holiday season and must have given a lift to many weary travelers.

Flashmob in Denver Airport:

A virtual flight to the North Pole

Westjet's 2012 surprise

Have you ever noticed that two or more kittens instantly create a flashmob?

Kittens help put away Christmas ornaments

The Trouble with Promises

Have you ever made a promise you didn't want to keep? This happened to me recently.

I received an unexpected call from a radio show in Charleston, South Carolina. The caller asked me if I was ready to be interviewed.

No, I was not. Although I usually note pending interviews (and any other appointments) in my calendar, I hadn't made a note of this date two months ago, when the initial arrangements were made. To add to the confusion, I also hadn't received the two reminders the station had sent me.

I felt totally unprepared and very apprehensive about risking that an unknown number of people would hear me acting like an idiot. This, not incidentally, forms the foundation of many of my fears about marketing work, and it was easy for me to figure out how I "forgot" this appointment.

Since I had about a thirty-second window of opportunity to make a decision, the above thoughts flashed very quickly through my mind. Others joined them. First, and most important, I'd promised the interview, and I consider a promise a responsibility. In line with that commitment, I thought about the announcer, who would be faced with a gap in his programming and about listeners, who might be looking forward to the interview.

In the interests of full disclosure, I confess that the promise, as a matter of integrity, decided me. You've probably been in similar situations where keeping your word trumped all other considerations. In such situations I've discovered that I can either A. Endure a situation and remind myself that I'm a good person
B. Suffer through it with accompanying resentment
C. Turn it around and have my promise lead me into finding possibility in my circumstances

C., of course, sounds very attractive, but it also sometimes seems unattainable. I can't remember how many times I've unknowingly chosen B., making the fulfillment of a promise I already didn't want to keep much worse by reminding myself how much I didn't want to do it.

I find two lessons in this.

The first is to make promises wisely. If I have a negative feeling about it, I'd do better not to make it. Maybe a good person keeps her promises, but she doesn't have to agree to every request.

A classic example is one of fidelity between partners or spouses. Do not make this promise with your fingers crossed. Don't agree because you think it's the right thing to do. Don't make it with the anticipation that you'll break it. Don't even make it in a spirit of resentment, i.e., "This is what I have to do to have the relationship I want, but I don't like it."

The most important promise you can ever make is to be true to yourself, to honor and listen to your feelings, to thoughtfully consider any reluctance, and to come to a decision that sits comfortably with you.

I promised to take on the radio interview because to be true to myself as an author in these times, I need not only to write but also to take every opportunity I can get to move through my resistance to self-promotion. That's a commitment I have to myself.

Having decided to keep this commitment, I also decided to find a way to make its fulfillment enjoyable. I reasoned that the topic, questions based on my book, Animals Have Feelings, Too, was one I knew quite well. If even one human companion got an insight into ways to resolve an issue with a cat or dog, my time would be well spent. Finally, I told my reluctant self that I might have fun.

My commitment paid off. Bob Charles, who interviewed me, was friendly, knowledgeable about my book, and passionate about animals. He asked useful questions. Listeners from around the world asked more. I spent an entertaining hour talking about cats, dogs, and Bach Flower Remedies.

Bob described me as one of the nicest people on the planet. I'm sure there's a very long line ahead of me, but I didn't mind hearing it. I have been invited to return to the show.

Overall, it was a huge win, mainly because I kept my promise, not just to Bob but also to myself.

And the life lesson was priceless.

If you'd like to hear the interview, the link is below. As I noted above, it's about an hour long.

Interview on the Bob Charles Show

I haven't posted on this blog for a long time, mainly because of personal disruptions that shifted my priorities elsewhere. I won't say life has gone back to normal, but last night in reading the poem below, I realized that it's time to shift my priorities back to where they belong. I intend to do what is right for me.

The Voice

There is a voice inside of you

That whispers all day long,

“I feel that this is right for me,

I know that this is wrong.”

No teacher, preacher, parent, friend

Or wise man can decide

What’s right for you– – just listen to

The voice that speaks inside.

Shel Silverstein