To Be Known

Who truly knows us? Our best friends? Our family? Who do we share our thoughts and dreams with? Truthfully, we often don't brave exposing our deepest selves with most of the people who are close to us. And "close" is a term that is usually reserved for a few, but even those few seldom really know us well.

What it comes down to is that the person we are most transparent with is our love interest. And those of us who are not in a relationship are missing out on sharing our true selves.

I want to be known. To have someone be enthusiastic about who I am, how I think, what I love, how I feel. To know that I am the most important person to get to know at this moment in time, for SOMEONE. And I want to reciprocate all of this. I want to know someone intimately, and I am not speaking only of the physical aspect.

Perhaps this idea of being known is intimidating to some who would rather keep themselves in reserve, and that is fine for them. But not for me. I have changed. I am in love with life, and there is so much there to be in love with. I no longer stumble through fog thinking that if only I had someone to love, I'd see more clearly. I have learned how to see clearly on my own, and that is a gift to share.

Anyone who knew me before this unfogging was in my life for a reason, I know, and I am sure I chose them for some purpose that helped me get to this point. But now I have arrived HERE, and I am sometimes a bit impatient. I can see that we are all here for each other, so why is there so much sheltered protectiveness around each person I meet?

It has been said that familiarity breeds contempt, but I think boredom and laziness breed contempt. So those of you who feel I am wrong about being known, who have been attached in a relationship with another for a very long time, and think that you are trapped in some spiritless union, think again. It takes effort. It takes wanting to be known, and wanting to know. You have an opportunity to change the way things are. Start where you are.

It is a most wonderful feeling to know that you are important to someone, that they care about who you are. Keep that precious thought alive and don't get caught up in thinking that being alone is just great because you don't have to deal with anyone else's stuff or feelings or ideas. Relationships are truly what make life rich.

And as for me - whoever you are, out there, wherever you are:  I want to be known by you. And I want to know you, too.

Unhooked From the Sex Machine

This is an adult subject, to address people who act like children. If you are offended or in denial about what goes on between adults and their minds and their bodies, I advise you to stop reading now.

Sex. Intercourse. Getting it on. Hooking up. Etc., etc., etc. A lot of terms for the act of two people physically "connecting" that can have nothing to do with their investment in each other or their knowledge of whose body they are sharing.

I'm no novice, and no, this is not my first rodeo. I understand that there is a climate of casualness regarding sex in our society, even though we try to push a level of guilt and piety on young people to keep them from indulging in sexual activities. We don't want teens getting it on, but often we adults think it's funny in a film or television show when the characters are constantly talking about sex: how to get it, how to do it, how to attract those they want to have it with. Can we BE any more hypocritical and confusing to our youth? Never mind, I don't want to know the answer to that.

I have come to terms with the fact that I am now middle-aged, and that most of the men I might be interested in dating and forming a relationship with are also middle-aged, unless some younger guy finds me incredibly attractive and doesn't want to have a family. Hey, it could happen! Anyway, back to the topic: what is it with the shortcuts in getting to the "intimate" part of a dating situation?

I can't speak for anyone else, but I have a hunch that I'm not the only woman who has had this happen. I meet a man online, through a dating site or on Facebook. We e-mail, or chat, or even meet in person. Very often, and although I haven't done any exacting research on this, I'd say 75% of the time, the man will bring up the subject of sex the FIRST TIME we chat or meet. As if he needs a satisfactory answer to his question about what he might have to look forward to BEFORE he decides if he is interested in getting to know me.

I don't know about you, my single sisters, but that line of questioning leaves me cold. Here is the dilemma:  If I go along with the guy's wishes and answer his questions, I am selling short my personality and my desire to have an emotional connection, which are important prerequisites to having any kind of enjoyable sex life with a partner. If a man, ESPECIALLY a middle-aged man who should have some life wisdom, can't already understand that who I am as a person is the first thing he needs to know before he would ever enjoy being intimate with me, then there's possibly no hope for him as a relationship prospect. How do you explain that to someone who's already asked you about sex before you even know each other's last names?

The second part of the dilemma is that if I don't answer the man's questions, if I say (and I have said this) that I don't discuss sex with a man unless he's someone I'm already dating and who I know I like a whole awful lot, then I am labeled as a frigid woman. It may not be expressed out loud, but that's usually the attitude I get back from a guy. Actually, that's the attitude a lot of men my age have - I have often heard statements from them that "most women your age don't like sex."  Really? Is this a news flash, or are you possibly the most selfish, self-centered man on the planet who has no idea what would get a mature woman interested in you, sexually or otherwise? I think asking the "sex question" at first introduction answers the question about your self-centeredness, doesn't it?

This reminds me of how children act when they want something. They are often impatient. They don't use logic, or think about what THEY need to do to receive what they want. They don't think deeper than the surface of their desires. They want, want, want, and their little minds cannot grasp that other people have feelings and desires that possibly do not mesh with theirs exactly when they want them to. They are selfish and self-centered because they are children, and their parents are charged with the task of teaching them that the world does not revolve around them and that they need to care for others, and show that care genuinely, in order to receive all the delightful things that love and compassion give us.

Where did this process go wrong? Did the 75% of men who approach me as partner material (and who fail at being unselfish) somehow miss out on the idea of spending some time developing relationships? Or have they given up on that due to their attachment to the past, which they believe has taught them to grab what they want quickly, because the world is full of shit and they just want something good for fifteen minutes, once in a while?

I expect that teenagers, in their youth and enthusiasm for life, will want to get it on with each other. Adults don't want them to. They want kids to tame their passions and lust, and they downplay the idea of young love. I understand not wanting our youth to have babies before they are ready and capable of taking care of them, or to get diseases, but this mixed message we give them is really screwed up, and obviously the majority of adults are really screwed up, too, so why should teens listen to us? We adults are the ones who cheapen the act of passion between two people. I'm sure some teens do, too, but they don't have the years of cynicism, disappointment and anger that fuels the selfish grab for sex without love. We are failing them and we are failing ourselves. Truthfully, we know in our hearts what feels right, and it's not just a physical sensation, is it?

Recently, a man I have known since childhood messaged me on Facebook and asked when we were going on a date. I was flattered, but told him that my liberal feminist personality might not fit well with his conservative views. He said that didn't matter, then he invited me to his house for dinner, or to just "get down." I asked him what he meant by that, and he said he meant to "rub bellies."

What a charmer. Really? Is that all he wants from me? I took a pass, and told him that was insulting. I will continue to take a pass on men whose main goal is to get some physical satisfaction, because here's the thing: with that, it doesn't matter what woman they choose. They just want the body. And I, and you, and all of us, are much, much more than that.

It's a Dog Kind of Day

Our dog Max is a Doberman mix that we found at the local humane society twelve years ago. We went in "just to visit the dogs" when my sons were seven and nine years old. A year before, I'd moved us out of the upstairs apartment we'd lived in since we'd become a one-parent family, and bought a small duplex that seemed like it had room for everything we wanted or wanted to do. It also had a fenced back yard.

The boys begged me for a dog, and I kept the idea in the back of my mind. Growing up, I had always had a dog, a faithful companion. I wanted to make my boys' lives as normal as I could. So that day when we went "just to visit," my heart overruled any logic I had and we took one dog into the visiting room to play with. The beagle mix didn't seem that interested in  us, so we went back to the small-to-medium dog room. All the dogs were barking at us, except for one. In the corner, a large, shiny black and tan pup was standing on his hind legs, front paws on the edge of his pen. He was 10 months old and some 50 pounds. Oh, no, I thought to myself, he's too big.

But we were drawn to him, and we took him into a room to visit. He put his head in our laps. He hopped and played and nudged us. He was 50 pounds of love, and we fell in love with him.

We filled out all the papers and took him home to "foster" in case it just didn't work out. The first night we had him home, after the boys went to bed I sat on the living room floor petting him and accepting his unconditional affection. I remember crying and hugging him. I said, "You just want to be loved like everyone else, don't you?"

After fostering him for a while, we decided he was the dog for us. We had to get him adjusted to home life, because he had been in shelters since birth and had never lived in a house. He was worth the time it took and was an incredible addition to our family. He gained 25 pounds and became much larger than what I was looking for, but none of that mattered.

Four years later I had an itch to get a companion dog for Max. Against my better judgment, we went back to the humane society shelter and  found Ringo, a 2 year-old Australian Shepherd - Doberman mix (so we were told - we still aren't sure). Ringo and Max get along incredibly well, and they have been happy together for the past eight years.

This weekend I decided it was bath time for both the dogs. Ringo got a trip to the groomer on Friday, where  her massive shedding hair was washed and brushed until she looked like a new dog. The humane society was advertising a dog wash for today, so I hoped to take Max there, but his old hips and back legs don't work so well anymore. Getting him in the car is an ordeal. But I had to try.

I got the car ready, a blanket in the back seat. I put my purse in the car and with my keys in my hand I led Max outside. He loves to take rides and wanted to get in the car, but his fear of falling is stronger than his desire for a ride. I crawled into the back seat, threw my keys in the front, and coaxed him, gently tugging on the leash. Finally he put his front legs on the seat and I half shoved, half lifted him into the car. Victory!

I closed the back door of the car so he wouldn't try to get out. And heard a click.

I tried the driver's side door.

The car had automatically locked me out, and my dog IN the car. Also, my purse with the spare key was locked in the car. Nuts!

Fortunately I had not locked the back door of my house yet, so I went inside and searched for a spare key or an extra keyless remote. No key, but I found a remote with a dead battery. I also found a spare battery!

I had to find a tiny screwdriver to open the back of the remote. I looked outside. The car windows were getting steamed up from the hot dog breath filling the interior.

A tiny screwdriver was located and I popped the remote apart, dropping a small piece that fell out of SOMEWHERE. When the new battery was in, I tried to get the remote back together and place the tiny piece where I thought it belonged. Upside down. Finally I got it right, happy that I would not have to call the lock and key place to get my dog out of the car.

I went outside, pointed the remote at my car and pushed the unlock button. The remote lit up like it should, but no sound came from my car. The darn thing didn't work!

I searched the house again, found a different remote that looked the like the wrong one - but it DID work. I have never been so thrilled to hear my car door unlock.

Finally we were on our way to the dog wash, which turned out happily ever after, with friendly, helpful staff who helped me get Max OUT of the car and back INTO the car after his bath. All is well. Two clean dogs. Sense of humor intact.

Through all of this, my quiet giant of a dog was patient, loving, and friendly with everyone who passed his nose. He is my role model.

Dogs are great, aren't they?

Energy and Creativity

Epiphanies often open doors that lead to other doors. I love having that feeling of knowing that I've seen a light and now know which direction to take, even if I'm unsure of where it will lead me. I've finally realized that I can never be sure of where a road will lead, and that's okay. For so long I wanted the answers ahead of time, and although it's difficult to let go of that need to be prepared, I practice, practice, practice the skill of rolling with the tides.

Making decisions has been a struggle for me, because I've always wanted to know that I was making the RIGHT decision. But the funny thing is, what makes a decision right can't be defined. You or I can't know how things would have turned out if we'd chosen door number two over door number one, because getting through the FIRST step of the decision is only a small part of the chain of events that follows. Wherever I am is where I was apparently supposed to end up - or else it wouldn't have happened as it did. 

Yesterday I completed my Reiki Level Two training. Although I wanted to do it, I wrestled with the cost and felt I was indulging myself for no good reason. My intuition (gut feeling) said, "Take the class," but my intellect (practical reasoning) said, "Should I spend the money?" I justified my decision to go ahead with it by telling myself that I would use it to help others, not just myself (as if helping myself was somehow selfish and wrong).

I was very tense at the beginning of the training, as if every muscle in my body was causing me pain in this fight between the affirmations in my gut and the numbers in my head. But I moved ahead, and gradually the pain began to subside. My teacher reminded me of the impact of thoughts, how the words we use and the attitudes we hold affect our lives, and I realized that problem-solving in my life was stalled because of how I had approached these "problems."

Every line I repeat that echoes a theme of suffering, overwork, unhappiness or complaint is an affirmation that my life will continue on that path. It's as if I'm stating the intention for my life when I play that old story of woe over and over. What do I expect to happen if most of my mental and emotional energy is reserved for dwelling on the negative? If I'm to be honest, I guess I have to expect more of the negative. And that's just not where I want to be.

Energy. It's in every single thing and person and situation I come across, and I can either gain momentum from positive energy, or I can be stuck on the tracks, overloaded with negatives. Looking at the ways I've been communicating my thoughts, I can see how to turn things around.

Besides the epiphany about energy, I also became much more aware of creativity and how to be more creative. Connie Schultz, the columnist and author, posted a link to this article, "How To Be Creative." One thing that stood out for me in the article was the point that creativity is more abundant when you're relaxed and not thinking so hard about coming up with an answer. 

The article said that taking breaks, socializing, doing something completely different and exposing yourself to a wider variety of people, information and activities are all ways to increase your creativity. That sounds like permission to daydream and explore, and if so, I accept the challenge. 

I think having positive energy can lead to creativity, and feeling creative can lead to positive energy. They go hand in hand, like two best friends who've known each other since grade school. Anything that makes me feel the freedom of being nine years old again is okay in my book. I think I'll look at life that way. It's time to play.

Don't Kick Them When They're Down

I went to my local Humane Society's animal shelter this afternoon to buy yearly licenses for my dogs. Both of my furry friends came to our family from that shelter, and I'm grateful that the people there care about animals. By coincidence,  I read an article yesterday that pointed out how, sometimes in their concentration on caring for animals, shelter workers lose sight of caring for humans. I didn't expect to see that in action so quickly.

Besides the employees, there were four other people in the shelter store when I walked in. A couple looking at dog toys and pet supplies discussed their purchase choices. At the counter, two teenagers, a girl and a boy, waited to talk to someone. The girl politely told me I could go ahead.

While the young woman behind the counter chatted with me and completed my dog license purchase, an older woman who seemed to be in charge came to the counter. The teenagers told her they were there to get their community service papers signed to show that they had completed the assigned hours. With a voice full of exasperation and disdain, the woman said, "It takes 24 hours," and the teens looked at each other in confusion. She repeated, "We don't fill them out right away, you have to give us 24 hours and then come back and get them. It was in the rules on the papers you signed. The person who fills out the papers doesn't work on Saturday."

The boy’s voice rose a bit. "Then we can pick them up Monday? Because I have to hand this in to my probation officer on Monday." The woman behind the counter said, "No. You can't pick them up Monday because we're closed on Monday. You can pick them up Tuesday."

The woman's words were acidic and her attitude matched. I felt myself begin to tense in empathy with the youngsters. As they started out the door, dejected, I stopped them and said, "Tell your P.O. what happened and that you have to pick up the paper on Tuesday. You will probably be allowed to bring it in as soon as you get it." The young man nodded and they left.

I wandered the store for a few minutes, wanting to say something but not knowing what. Then an older man came in and tersely spoke to the woman in charge." My son told me he can't get his paper signed today," he said. The woman repeated the rules to the father. As he briskly walked to the door, I stopped him and told him what I had said to his son, and then shared, "My son has to do community service, too." The father thanked me as we both left.

I sat in my car, not ready to leave. I didn't feel I could walk away from this experience without acting. 

I grabbed a five dollar bill to take in for a donation, then went inside, gave the counter person my cash, and with my heart pounding I spoke to the older woman. "I just have to say that when it comes to community service workers, kindness goes a long way," I said, "I'm sure you have to deal with a lot of them."

"Yes, I do," she said, "and they sign a paper that has the rules on it. They should know the rules."

"I understand that," I said, "but when you're dealing with young people, or people who are not as educated, or who don't know how to understand a contract, a lot of times they don't read the paper they're signing. They just do what they're told to do."

She went on about the inconvenience of community service workers wanting their report papers signed when the shelter was understaffed, and I listened. I told her, "A lot of those people just need things explained to them," and then I thanked her for allowing those on probation to work off community service hours there. Done with putting in my two cents, I left the building, still angry, but satisfied that I had not spoken in anger.

I hope she thinks about how she talks to people who are already down. I hope she stops kicking them while they're on the floor. I'm sure (at least I hope I'm sure) that she wouldn't do that to a dog or a cat, or she wouldn't be working at an animal shelter.

I hope my words, spoken with respect, help her think about how she treats those who she may have thought of as less valuable than her.

If you've ever loved someone who has made a mistake and has had to pay for that mistake, or watched someone you care about struggle to make things right when their life has turned the wrong way, you know how hard it is to also see others spew disrespect and judgment at the person who is trying to fix things. It's horrible, it's exasperating, and it can make you want to commit a crime yourself to defend the efforts of the one you love. 

It's good that we don't resort to that, since we all know that two wrongs DON'T make a right. If only the disrespectful judging folks would realize that their caustic behavior is the second WRONG and it will never be right to behave that way.

No matter what the facts are of a situation, if you speak in a nasty tone to someone, you are wrong. You can have all the right information and still be incorrect. The failure is in your delivery and in your integrity as a caring human being, which is something important to society and to each of us individually. 

We all make mistakes, and some of us make bigger ones than others. I'd like to think that the majority of us understand that most faults don't have to scar us for life, and that we don't deserve others to treat us like garbage because they have not made a mistake like ours. 

I'm willing to bet that we all understand the Golden Rule:  Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. And the next time that woman at the shelter deals with someone who is trying to atone for their errors, I hope she remembers her own mistakes and responds with compassion. 

It all begins with an example. Let that example be kindness. 

It's Not Easy

When I was ten years old, our family dog had a litter of puppies during a bitter cold January. We tried to keep all ten puppies and their mama warm by attaching a heat lamp above their box in the attached garage, but the extreme temperatures took their toll. One by one, the puppies died. I was devastated with each loss of a tiny life, but the worst was yet to come. With four pups still hanging in there, our dog, Princess, succumbed to pneumonia. She took her last breath as I sat next to her on the floor of the utility room, petting her and loving her through her final moments. Although I had lost many cats to cars and other tragedies, it was the first time I had watched someone I loved die.

It wasn't easy. We had to take her body to the farm of some family friends because the ground was too frozen for us to dig a grave. We had to figure out how to feed four hungry pups who no longer had a warm mother to care for them. We had to clean up after the orphans and do our best to save them.

Our family members took turns feeding the puppies, warming a milk mixture and filling glass baby bottles, then mothering those babies the best we could. All four pups survived. We found good homes for three of them and kept one, a female, and called her Princess, after her mother. Princess II was probably the best dog I've ever had. She had a bond with our family, likely because we had such a strong bond with her. For 13 years she was the best friend a girl could have, even after I moved out on my own. That was a true connection.

You might expect a dog to be loyal, as dogs are known for such things. Humans are capable of this kind of loyalty, of course, but we don't love unconditionally as dogs do. We judge and discern and hold back praise or affection, because there are inner struggles we deal with on a daily basis. Whether to be right or be kind. Whether to give in or stand strong. Whether to be independent or interdependent. Whether to shut out or let in.

My thoughts on human relationships have been inspired by, of all things, Facebook and "Facebook friends." Chris, a man I know only through Facebook, posted that he was suspending his account for Lent. His declaration, along with a story from 2007 in the Washington Post by Gene Weingarten called "Pearls Before Breakfast" got me thinking about how we rush through life, sometimes looking for the easiest way to just get through the day. Rather than slow down and take the time to SEE and HEAR the beauty around us, we often either ignore it or briefly take note that we'll appreciate it more "next time." As for friendship, the beauty of real human connection is something that needs to be developed to be appreciated.

Social networking makes friendship seem easy. We send a friend request and it gets accepted. We post something that others agree with, and we find like-minded people. Finding like-minded people is a wonderful benefit of online connections, but in order to truly call these people my Friends, I must make an effort to be a friend, and "liking" that person's Facebook post or making a positive comment isn't enough, in my opinion. I don't want to slack off on the one thing that could bring the most fulfillment and joy to my life that I cannot bring to it alone. I don't want to "phone in" my friendship.

I wouldn't want to completely forgo electronic communications, but I see them as a jumping-off point:  I meet someone online, decide I'd like to know that person better, and take steps to do so. I put some energy into becoming a friend. I can't know that the other person would want to reciprocate the energy output, but that's the risk you take when you reach out your hand. I'd rather risk some rejection than never try to reach across the divide.

When I was ten years old, the important aspects of my existence were things like the love of my family, loyal friends, hikes through the woods, a good dog, music, drawing, learning how to cook, sewing, and exploring. I find that I am still that ten year-old inside, with some extra loves and wisdom gained throughout the years.

As far as core values go, not much has changed. I think it's time to set aside "easy" for "Rich". I think it's time to honor the honesty of the ten year-old heart.

Spring Cleaning

Social media has changed my life. Two and a half years ago, I had a limited range of acquaintances and few avenues for meeting new friends. Facebook changed all that, because since I joined the social networking site in 2009, I have expanded my group of both "friends" and Friends (the latter being the real deal).

Facebook has also been a wonderful outlet for my poetry, for meeting poets, artists and musicians, for learning about fun events, and for keeping in touch with people who live far from me. But, I can tell that it has become an addiction, something that I think I can't go a day without - and I want to get some perspective.

If I hadn't joined Facebook, I would not have met Chris Matthias, who now lives in Seattle, Washington, but who I "met" when he lived in my city of Adrian, Michigan. Chris and I have not really met in person, but have exchanged comments online, and I think he is a stand-up kind of guy.

When Chris posted a few days ago that he was giving up Facebook for Lent, along with several other habits, I paid attention. Although I was baptized in the Catholic church, I am not a practicing Catholic, but the idea of focused intention on my actions seems like a practice I could get some insights from. I also like the idea that this is leading up to spring, and since I'm already in the mood for "spring cleaning", it fits in perfectly.

I won't give up Facebook completely, because I have events and contacts there that need attention, but I will be limiting my time there to devote to other pursuits and activities.

I'm still working on my "Plan for Peace" for the period of February 22nd through April 7th, but I have a lot of ideas. I will most likely be highly optimistic and shoot for the moon, but if I don't aim high, how will I ever get off the ground?

Chris stated that he will still be in contact with friends and that he'll be writing a blog here http://takingontheguesswork.wordpress.com/2012/02/. I told him that I was following his lead, and he encouraged me to do so, which leads to me "resurrecting" MY blog. I'm looking forward to writing more on a regular basis, the kind of writing that is not limited to Facebook posts or notes. I hope you choose to follow my progress. Please feel free to comment and share your thoughts, too.

Peace to you,

Jackie