Shedding

It’s the end of the year and that’s a great time for shedding. I’m not suggesting you slither out of your skin. And I’m not saying you should go build a man or woman cave. I’m referring to letting go, leaving or removing ‘things’ that are no longer good for you.

Those ‘things’ can be objects in our homes that no longer have purpose or give joy; or clothes we no longer choose to wear because they don’t make us feel good.

They can be actions we take, mindlessly, because we have always done them. They are patterns of behavior that don’t serve us anymore and keep us from moving forward. If there is no reward, why keep doing it?

Some habits are detrimental to our health. My weakness is for sweet things: cake, chocolate, ice cream. And crisp white wine. Neither are good for physical well-being and professional advice is to cut them down. I need to shed the habit of such indulgence, and make it a treat now and then.

Shedding relationships is much more difficult. And sometimes a relationship is the most important thing we can let go of. Whether it be parent/child, husband/wife, friend/‘friend,’ if it makes us feel bad, drains our energy, generates self-doubt or keeps us from being ourselves, it should go. It can be almost impossible to divorce ourselves from a relationship, but it can be most liberating.

Being true to ourselves is one of the hardest things to be. Social norms insist we’re polite and behave according to rules of our culture, family or social group. We’re all brought up to be ‘good,’ and it can be challenging if we discover that being ‘good’ doesn’t serve us well. We learn to wear a mask, even with our loved ones. But how can someone love us truly if we’ve disguised our true natures and desires? Shed the mask and we might lose a few friends, but we might also gain truer friendships.

Let unfavourable things go at the end of the year. It makes psychological space for the entry of more favourable possibilities in the new year. Shed, and put fresh skin in the game.

PS. On a personal note, I was the successful bidder, last month, on a small house (see the Take a Chance blog) and therefore I have begun the shedding of things, with enthusiasm! It also means that I will be thinking of new things next year. All that I keep and all that I gather, will serve a purpose and give me joy.

2020 will, for me, be a fresh start. I hope it will be for all of you too. What will you shed now to make space for good things in 2020?

Relationships Change

It would be helpful in all relationships if we reflected on how we change over time: as an individual and as a member of a relationship.

Our needs and our deeds are different at various stages of our lives.

When we are young, we are incomplete, still feeling our way: exploring, experimenting, discovering. What do we like, dislike? What do we want, not want? What and who inspires us to develop within? Some relationships that we build will bond forever. They become part of our foundation – cemented by who we essentially are at our most basic. Some, we find, are not of the same material, and these will fall away like bark from a tree.

Between young and middle age, we are building our lives along with ourselves: our careers, our homes, our families. These external pursuits bond us to those in the same position: peers, neighbours and other parents, joined by commonalities. Activities, struggles and achievements shared, tighten these bonds. But as we develop and commonalities pass, only those that have grown together and have respect for the emerging differences, will survive.

The relationship with one’s child and the relationship with one’s intimate, “romantic” partner undergo the largest changes and strongest stresses.

The child needs to be nurtured to grow well. Each child requires our individual attention for it to be the best it can be. We give our children everything, until we feel sapped of nutrients ourselves. We must take time out to replenish ourselves. We need space, time and pursuits of our own. We must continue to look after ourselves in order to look after our children, and in the process, our children learn to be independent. The relationship changes and if we resist, it will break. We need to release our children for them, and our relationship with them, to thrive.

Perhaps the intimate relationship with one’s partner, is under the most strain. It experiences the greatest external pressures: work commitments, finances, household chores, dedication to children, influence of parents, siblings and friends, the minutiae of life. It changes constantly with circumstances. Our responses and feelings ebb and flow. The demands we put on the intimate relationship – predictability, stability and consistency – can be so great they are impossible to achieve.

The intimate relationship begins in a state of perfect compliment. We cannot get enough of each other’s eyes, thoughts, bodies, company. It is a self-enclosed world of perfect unity.

It eases off into a companionable sameness; two separate people heading in the same direction, reaching for the same goals. Loosely hand in hand, supporting each other, learning from each other, admiring each other. This relationship can build a life together; a family, a business, a mature self-sufficiency in an ever-expanding membrane.

In middle age, when we have built our worlds, raised our children, reached or given up on dreams, there is, inevitably, another change. There is opportunity for growth. Without clinging nostalgically to the past, we can adapt to the new circumstances and reach for possibilities. Our goals may differ, pursuits diverge, viewpoint shift. If we allow freedom rather than restriction, growth rather than stagnation, respect rather than criticism, our intimate relationship can thrive in a state of ongoing friendship. For this to happen, we need to understand and accept ourselves and our partners.

External and internal circumstances cause everybody and every relationship to change. We need to hold loosely, dance lightly and be generous to ourselves and of ourselves, for any relationship to thrive with these changes.

The inspiration for this blog came from reading, Gift From the Sea, by Anne Morrow Lindbergh.

“The light shed by any good relationship illuminates all relationships.”

The novel I am writing explores these changes in relationships. I would be interested in your thoughts.

Tolerance

Self help books on motivation, reaching your goals, understanding yourself and others, finding your path and getting things done are what I’ve been thriving on for the last few years. They advise to ‘feel the fear and do it anyway’, leap and the net will appear, commit and Providence will assist etc.

I love these books and they all contribute some part to my makeup, thoughts and actions.

But sometimes, they just don’t work. Or more correctly, I can’t do what they say!

I’m motivated to reach my goals. I want to write every day and have a book written by the end of the year. But menial tasks get in the way. Like the washing, or car service, or answering emails, looking up files, organising handymen, preparing tax documents, going to the dentist….

I understand myself: I know what drives me, what I value, who, what and how I love, what I need for a peaceful and joyful state of mind. I’m pretty good at understanding others. I have empathy, compassion and emotional intelligence.

Considering this, you’d think I’d be a hotshot at self-management, staying calm and focused, getting along with everybody, not being disturbed by change or noise or people’s behaviour.

Well, as they say, scratch the surface…

Thankfully, my surface has thickened over the years – in both senses! But in the sense of being calm, tolerant or impenetrable, it’s not thick enough yet!

Barking dogs drive me crazy and interfere with my otherwise laser-beam concentration. They cause so much interference on the receiver of my mind, that I can’t hear anything else. (This is ironic, considering dogs are one of my favourite things on earth.)

Requests for information, administrative tasks, problems with phones, computers, internet, health issues, legal issues – they all irritate and interfere with the big picture. They’re a different kind of barking dog!

And then there’s those people in your life that simply press your buttons – those buttons that make you feel tense, anxious, snappy, unkind, and absolutely seething. Hopefully none of these feelings escape the thickened skin, and you remain looking magnificent. But they might. Because the skin was penetrated in the first place. Those people have teeth, they’re biting dogs. And, in this blog, shall remain nameless!

This blog post was a spin off from frustration. I’m venting! My lessons haven’t been learned well enough yet. My tolerance is not as high as I would like it or as high as I thought a few hours ago. I’m not ZEN yet. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to stop trying.

Obstacles are good. They teach us what our shortcomings are. They show us that we need to try harder. They push us to be clever and find ways around them. Another lesson –  the journey would be bloody boring if it wasn’t for the obstacles. (Talk to anyone that’s driven across the Nullarbor.) We just have to learn to go more slowly, breathe, notice the view and figure out the best way to pass them.

I feel much better now. Writing it down has always helped me re-establish calm. I feel tolerant again. I feel like I’m a better person: kind, compassionate, focused and driven.

Until next time!