Beyond Ego Answers

I've returned from a week away, relaxing and enjoying time with friends and with my love, Craig. I intended to play but still work, yet the satellite-powered internet made it nearly impossible to even pull in some email.I took that as a firm message from the universe: turn off, unplug, and relax. And so I did!

The morning before we left, we celebrated our little neighbor's 3rd birthday by going to her party; Evie is magical--smart, unveiled, compassionate and head-strong. The party headline was "Tacos and Toddlers," offering breakfast tacos, mimosas, and tie dye--a party for kids and grown ups!. There were nearly a dozen little ones running around and moms & dads were corralling as necessary.

Each small one had the suite of parents--mom & dad--and the sun lit up the back yard where families sat in their family clusters. The tie dye portion of the party came, and I helped Evie squirt colorful dye from plastic bottles onto white, cotton, T-sized shirts.  No wonder I felt waylaid by sadness--even grief. Along our drive toward vacation, I felt a heaviness, taking away my breath.I struggled to understand and dug into asking myself question after question, and the easy answer came quickly.

Easy answers are like that: they show up so that we stay on the surface. Easy answers are ego answers. My ego answer was that I miss being a little-kid's mom--my kids are in their 20's and independent and amazing--and having accepted the answer so quickly, I shifted to gratitude because I was such a natural mom and loved everything about it. When my daughter, Emily, was born, she was barely 20 minutes old when I looked at her father and said, "we have to do this again; this is the most unbelievable feeling of love that I've even known." Motherhood was my passion.

So that was the answer...until I felt into the question, "is that true? Anella, is that TRUE?" I checked in, scanned my body carefully, and found sadness, still, so I knew there was more. I turned inward, again. And I found gold. The gold is that I got back in an old story, which went something like this: look at all of these happy families...all of these dads, engaged because they are always helpful...these moms, who have such a supportive partner...see how he just automatically knows what to do to be helpful...look at him johnnie-on-the-spotting it...he must be so successful at work...just look at him be so present and focused on his family at a birthday party!

In the car, on our drive toward vacation, I fueled this old story with self-pity: I wanted to raise my kids in THAT kind of family, where their father knew how to be helpful and our partnership was balanced and his focus was on our kids as much as was mine. That was story I was looping, around and around. I felt cheated, all over again, wanting to have the family where the dad was like all these dads. I piled it on and on: I didn’t get to have that in this life time. 

My sadness swelled as I spun my old story, yet I kept pressing myself for the TRUTH, until I broke through and found what feels true.The truth is: I have no idea what struggles those couples have. I have no idea how engaged those dads are 24/7. I have no idea how much of a co-parent any of them are—moms or dads—really. I have no more idea than what I could glean in two hours.  

The truth is: my ex-husband and I did the best we each knew how. As much as I wanted a partner and wanted to feel like a co-parent, I equally didn’t know how to ask for what I needed him to do.The truth is: I assumed that he should just know what to do. I didn’t have an instruction manual that said ‘MOTHERHOOD 101, and I figured it out. I wanted him to step up and figure out his part. I was a natural mother--my intuition held wisdom and I trusted what I felt. 

The truth is: I didn’t tell my ex-husband how I wanted our family dynamic to feel and how I would value his contribution and share my vision of what that could look like. I gave him tasks. Assignments. Lists of chores and said, “choose any of them but choose some,” and when he said, “no,” I dug in. I thought his heels were already in, so why not mine, too?

The truth is: I brought an energy into this world that sounds like this: I want you to help me do this thing that we both say is important to us, but when you don’t meet my expectations—that I might or might not fully communicate to you—I STOP being a partner and DO MORE OF EVERYTHING MYSELF.  I don’t risk it on you. I dive in, and I get it done. That’s another prevailing energy I have: move over and let me handle it. I’m capable. I’m sturdy. I’m on it.

And then I grieve over feeling so very alone and so very responsible.

There. That’s the truth. And it’s good to see it. Until I can see it, I can’t remove it. Until I say, “Ah, I see you, old story, I see how you’ve run madly through my mind. I reject you,” then I live in the past, veiled with the old perspective, grabbing onto the ego answer, staying on the surface.

This going inward, looking carefully—it’s the work that builds the new story.

Hear Me Universe #100. Makes Me Feel Like the Man In My Dream

The setting: a beach house, one of those good-grey-lady-Nantucket types; the start of a long weekend begins in the kitchen, as several couples unpack grocery bags and turn up the music and pour wine; it’s approaching dusk.I’m in that kitchen, feeling the lightness and joy of the room, as laughter rises and falls, rises and falls.Still hearing distant laughter, I’m now standing outside the beach house, at the foot of a sand dune, as the water ebbs closer to the sandy ground below my feet. As the water saturates the sand, I begin to feel that hint of quick-sand feeling you get when you’re standing in the tide: the sand shifts below your feet as your feet sink a little at a time into the sand below.  I felt I needed help, and as I turned and looked upward to the top of the sand dune, my ex-husband was standing and watching me. I reached my hand uphill, as if to ask for help, for him to pull me to safety out of the grips of the sand. And, he slowly turned away.He did not pull me from the sinking sand. The scene shifts: I am instantly back in that kitchen, in the atmosphere of merriment, and as I walk diagonally across the kitchen, I’m met in the middle of the room by a man—someone I’ve never known, yet know well in this dream. Our eyes meet, his hand holds my waist, and I see, in his expression, all of his emotions: kindness, adoration, joy, contentment, love.In that moment, I felt what I knew I wanted to feel in the relationship of my dreams. Standing in that unknown kitchen, surrounded by unknown friends, with an unknown lover, I knew the depth of love that is possible. I felt it in that moment.Writing my love list—my declaration to the universe—gave me keen awareness: awareness of who I am, why I am worthy of my heart’s desires, why my past relationships served an important purpose, and what my ideal is--exactly.

Hear Me Universe #99. Sails

(Photo credit: Bryan Glover)The year before I wrote my love list, I had taken sailing lessons. Now, it’s a little different than you might be thinking, because I live in the land-locked mid-West—not exactly ideal sailing conditions. Yet, I found a sailing club that offered lessons, signed up, and after a weekend of learning, I was ready to buy a sailboat. That’s pretty typical of me: I go all in when I find something that I love doing.When I wrote my love list the next year, I wrote “sails or wants to learn,” desiring to attract a partner who would share the love of being on the water, hearing the sound of wind in the sails, and relishing the quiet of the stillness during windless calm.  I had visions about sailing down the coast and around islands, and I was excited at the thought of sharing this experience with my future love.You might remember from my first Blog article about my love list that Craig, my husband, pronounced that he’d scored a “98” on my list—his self-assessment score that made us both laugh with a knowing of how aligned we were about love and life. But my #98, “sails,” is not exactly Craig’s ideal; the way he put it, “I could sail, but I prefer boats with motors.”Craig and I do share a love of being on the water, of communing with nature at sea, and Craig has already named our future-boat: Wake-up Call. It won’t have sails, but I’ll welcome the feeling of the wind against my skin, the sun shining brightly on my face, and my husband captaining our boat.

Hear Me Universe #98. Cuddles

According to the Touch Research Institute at the University of Miami’s Miller School, touch appears to stimulate our bodies in specific ways. A welcomed touch, for example, can lower blood pressure, heart rate, and cortisol levels, and can stimulate the hippocampus (an area of the brain that thought to be the center of emotion and memory), and drive the release hormones that have been linked to positive and uplifting emotions. Research shows that the physical effects of touch are astounding, and in an article in the New Yorker last year, Maria Konnikova asserted that, “the more we learn about touch, the more we realize just how central it is in all aspects of our lives—cognitive, emotional, developmental, behavioral—from womb into old age.”I know from my years as a classroom teacher and mother that touch is important to our well-being. As a teacher, I observed the difference in students who were relaxed when I placed my hand on their shoulder as I paused at their desk to answer a question and the ones who immediately tensed up. The students who were comfortable with touch were also more confident people, more willing to speak up, and more competent students. When my own children were teenagers, I insisted on a hug a day, even when they posited not to want or need a hug. When we hugged, I could feel their system soften and unwind.  I learned to give good, long hugs to them, contributing to a more tranquil state for both of us.So, I wrote #98 on my love list so that I’d benefit from the physiological reaction to the touch of another human. Even now, I’ll take a break during the day to walk into my husband’s office and ask for a hug, boosting my feel-good hormones such as serotonin and dopamine, which always has a calming effect.

Hear Me Universe #97. Caresses Me In The Night

I love this love list description. I love that feeling of my partner next to me at night and those magical times that his hand moves to my back and rubs it simply and gently. A small gesture means so much more. It says, “I like it that you’re here,” or, “I want to express my love,” or, “I wish for you a restful sleep.”I wrote my love list in those years that I was sleeping with my cat, Hercules, who made his way to my pillow every night and curled up next to my head. There was something comforting in his presence. After 22 year of sleeping next to someone, I felt calmed by Hercules’ company. It was the rhythm of his breathing that most soothed me.I know some people feel the need for space in the night and separate themselves from their partner on the other side of broad bed. I prefer touch, gentle and loving.

Hear Me Universe #96. Knows What He Wants

It makes sense that, nearing the end of my list of 100 characteristics, I’d describe someone who also had gotten really clear on what he wanted. After all, this entire exercise in list-making was my declaration to the universe of my heart’s desire.When Craig and I met, he was also divorced and had spent several years, too, getting clearer and clearer on what he wanted. In fact, the “headline” he wrote for himself on the online dating site where we first connected was, “I still want it all.” I loved that. His proclamation signaled to me that he hadn’t given up on creating both the life and the relationship of his heart’s desire.Few of us grow up hoping to divorce. That’s not how the stories we are drawn to go. We love the fairy-tale romance, the sweep-me-off-my-feet and live-happily-ever-after stories. And, when our personal story doesn’t match this long-held ideal, it’s easy to believe that we won’t ever have what we really want.What I know is that our hearts never has a desire that’s not possible. Never. Our heart doesn’t play that game. If you have a desire of the heart, hold it tenderly and with a knowing that your desire is on its way. Believe in what’s possible.