I confess I laughed at the Tiger Woods' jokes. The situation was too uncomfortably familiar on both a national and personal experience not to be amused once again at what a joke marriage is to many men and to a lesser extent women. I was also disappointed and less hopeful for the future of the institution of marriage. A role model he is not. On the other hand, Elin may be exactly the type of wife needed to give husbands pause before they unzip their pants.
Behind each chortle was the unexpressed painful question: If the best althlete in the world, soon to become the first billionaire athlete is not happy in his marriage with a gorgeous wife, two adorable babies, cute dogs and a plethora of homes scattered around the globe, then what hope for marital bliss is there for the masses?
Are men really avoiding intimacy by engaging in sex with a woman whom they have no responsibility to share the trials and tribulations of marriage and parenthood? It is a low- demand, disposable relationship. It is a hook-up not a commitment. If things get messy or too demanding you can walk away and find another bedmate. Those are the throw-away partners. The fast food sex stops.
Is it the Peter Pan or Rich Dick syndrome? Either way it is not pretty or admirable.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Domestic Goddess I Am Not, Goddess of Caring--Completely
Obviously I have exceeded my "cleaning quota." There is a reflective layer of dust on many furniture pieces, an occasional crunch underfoot and the glass of my sliding patio door has a diffusing film that would flatter an aging movie star. I don't know when this happened; I used to love clean. Oh, I think I still do, but I don't love to do clean. Yes, that's the problem.
A few years ago I moved to smaller living quarters and there was no longer a place for everything--some items had to share the same space. That was the beginning of living with the things I love without as much space to love them in. It is a greener way to live--I did not need three bathrooms, a family room and a living room but it is a challenge to live greener, leaner and cleaner.
Before the move I donated, tossed and gave away with wild abandon. The adult children took ownership of their baby books, photo albums and other childhood memorabilia. The new owner inherited potted plants, patio furniture and gardening tools. I really delved into streamlining my life. So what really matters when it comes right down to parting with what was once important?
Not much. How enlightening and freeing is that? I first discovered this years ago while in the midst of divorce. My freshly separated ex decided to video the house while I was away for the weekend. He counted the wine glasses and antique dishes and videoed the book collection, the artwork etc. He wanted to make sure he received his half. It was a behavior that highlighted how little most of the items and years spent meant to me. There are few things that must move from one phase of life to another. Like a snake's skin when it is no longer a good fit, it's best to shed it and move on.
On this Thanksgiving Day I'm home with the flu, but I'm thankful for the opportunity to have learned what matters most as we move along our life's path. The children are grown and the childhood pets have passed on. There are ample photos that froze a moment in time, but the true gift is memories and treasured friends and family to share them with. It's not about the stuff, it is about the love and caring for others.
The cleaning? Not so much.
A few years ago I moved to smaller living quarters and there was no longer a place for everything--some items had to share the same space. That was the beginning of living with the things I love without as much space to love them in. It is a greener way to live--I did not need three bathrooms, a family room and a living room but it is a challenge to live greener, leaner and cleaner.
Before the move I donated, tossed and gave away with wild abandon. The adult children took ownership of their baby books, photo albums and other childhood memorabilia. The new owner inherited potted plants, patio furniture and gardening tools. I really delved into streamlining my life. So what really matters when it comes right down to parting with what was once important?
Not much. How enlightening and freeing is that? I first discovered this years ago while in the midst of divorce. My freshly separated ex decided to video the house while I was away for the weekend. He counted the wine glasses and antique dishes and videoed the book collection, the artwork etc. He wanted to make sure he received his half. It was a behavior that highlighted how little most of the items and years spent meant to me. There are few things that must move from one phase of life to another. Like a snake's skin when it is no longer a good fit, it's best to shed it and move on.
On this Thanksgiving Day I'm home with the flu, but I'm thankful for the opportunity to have learned what matters most as we move along our life's path. The children are grown and the childhood pets have passed on. There are ample photos that froze a moment in time, but the true gift is memories and treasured friends and family to share them with. It's not about the stuff, it is about the love and caring for others.
The cleaning? Not so much.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
The Peonies on My Desk
I saw them out of the corner of my eye as I rushed through the automatic doors at Trader Joes. They were still snug buds with no hint of their showy over-sized beauty. Those were peonies and I had to have them.
As a child it was my Memorial Day duty to clip flowers from the row of peonies in the side yard and make bouquets for soldiers, friends and relatives no longer on this earth. I thought it was a rather morbid task, but I did so enjoy selecting just the right vases and ribbons, so the task was filled with more pleasure than pain. Even though the ants crawled up and down my arms as I carried the armloads of blossoms to the kitchen sink, I tried to stay focused on the positive aspect of the job.
Those bouquets were always lovely and I felt a sense of accomplishment as we left each one in remembrance and appreciation of a life lived.
As an adult, I realize what a valuable lesson my peony exercise was for me. Work involves tasks we would like to avoid but we do not get to pick and choose what part of the job we will do. Beauty is often intermingled with loss and pain. Life is transitory in nature, and like the peony blossoms it buds, blooms, withers and leaves a legacy of its own design.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
History Books, Humanity and Happy Mother's Day
"Mom, why aren't there more women in my history book?" Years ago my elementary school age daughter asked this deep and probing question. I gave her the simple one line comeback. "Because women gave birth to and raised all those boys in your history book."
Yes, it takes a village to raise a child, but mainly it takes a mother. The job comes with no sick leave, it's 24/7 for eighteen years and then sporatic calls to duty on short notice. Job security is guaranteed until death. Although I'm fairly certain my mother is still on the job from above. She's certainly still in my thoughts. I see her parenting skills in mine and I watch with pride as I see my daughter using those same skills with my grandchildren.
The history books are filled with but a few mothers, but every person in history arrived on earth via a woman, a mother. That is very important work in the big picture of life.
Go ahead and smell the roses; you've earned it.
Happy Mother's Day.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Peep-toes, Slingbacks and Stilettos Where Did You Go?
I cleaned my closet last weekend and I noticed a disturbing trend. My peep-toes, slingbacks and stilettos are being replaced by Crocs, flats and Dr. Scholls. As I looked at the line of shoes on the closet floor it was clear to me I am aging from the feet up.
My shoulder length hair is colored and as close to my natural blond as a dye can come.
Heaven knows I've spent hours exercising to keep the body humming along decade after decade, but the feet are simply demanding to be comfortable. It takes a lot of energy to walk on your tiptoes all day, and shoes that hurt your feet make the task of walking to a co-worker's desk so unpleasant it is simply easier to send an email across the room.
At first I felt a sense of loss as the pile of high heels grew into a small mountain. There were the shoes I danced the night away under the desert stars. There were the three inch heels that allowed me to masquerade as a five foot ten conqueror of the career world. Then again, there was the pair that gave me a memorable blister and another pair I often carried more than I wore. Yep, time to listen to my feet.
For me, comfort is the new sexy.
My shoulder length hair is colored and as close to my natural blond as a dye can come.
Heaven knows I've spent hours exercising to keep the body humming along decade after decade, but the feet are simply demanding to be comfortable. It takes a lot of energy to walk on your tiptoes all day, and shoes that hurt your feet make the task of walking to a co-worker's desk so unpleasant it is simply easier to send an email across the room.
At first I felt a sense of loss as the pile of high heels grew into a small mountain. There were the shoes I danced the night away under the desert stars. There were the three inch heels that allowed me to masquerade as a five foot ten conqueror of the career world. Then again, there was the pair that gave me a memorable blister and another pair I often carried more than I wore. Yep, time to listen to my feet.
For me, comfort is the new sexy.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Birth, A Beginning
Thirty-three years ago today I gave birth to my one and only daughter. When labor began I was working in the "field" like a country peasant. My maternity jeans (actually they were a hideous imitation of my favorite Levis) were rolled up to a very stylish Capri length and my feet were bare--and muddy.
Six weeks earlier we moved into a new home in Naperville, Illinois. The builder included sod in the front yard, but my then husband was not a skilled negotiator, and I was too pregnant to care, so we accepted the back yard bare.
My two year old had a great time playing in the "big dirtbox" with his toy cars and trucks, his dad had a new job and was never home, but I was determined to turn that backyard dust bowl into the Garden of Eden before spring showers turned it into a giant mud pie.
Money was tight and sod was out of the question. The builder gave me the name of a man who would seed it for a few hundred dollars, after that I was on my own. I thought spring showers would come to my aid, but it was an unusually dry spring. I invested in hoses and oscillating sprinklers to fill in where Mother Nature let me down.
Sunrise found me positioning the sprinklers in preparation for the traveling shower show I ran throughout the day. The sprinklers had to be moved at regular intervals and the yard was large. I watched for puddling (too much water) and dry spots (no bare spots allowed) and quickly remedied both. Soon tiny green sprouts greeted my seeking eyes.
The lawn, yes I could call it that now, was bursting forth with new life, and so was I. On April 14, 1976 I was in the yard positioning sprinklers, watching my two year old marvel at the yet uncut new grass when the first pang of labor rose up through my body. I washed the mud off my feet, showered and six hours later gave birth to my daughter. It was a happy birth day; and today I wish you a happy birthday.
Six weeks earlier we moved into a new home in Naperville, Illinois. The builder included sod in the front yard, but my then husband was not a skilled negotiator, and I was too pregnant to care, so we accepted the back yard bare.
My two year old had a great time playing in the "big dirtbox" with his toy cars and trucks, his dad had a new job and was never home, but I was determined to turn that backyard dust bowl into the Garden of Eden before spring showers turned it into a giant mud pie.
Money was tight and sod was out of the question. The builder gave me the name of a man who would seed it for a few hundred dollars, after that I was on my own. I thought spring showers would come to my aid, but it was an unusually dry spring. I invested in hoses and oscillating sprinklers to fill in where Mother Nature let me down.
Sunrise found me positioning the sprinklers in preparation for the traveling shower show I ran throughout the day. The sprinklers had to be moved at regular intervals and the yard was large. I watched for puddling (too much water) and dry spots (no bare spots allowed) and quickly remedied both. Soon tiny green sprouts greeted my seeking eyes.
The lawn, yes I could call it that now, was bursting forth with new life, and so was I. On April 14, 1976 I was in the yard positioning sprinklers, watching my two year old marvel at the yet uncut new grass when the first pang of labor rose up through my body. I washed the mud off my feet, showered and six hours later gave birth to my daughter. It was a happy birth day; and today I wish you a happy birthday.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
The Jewel of the Universe
One of my morning yoga meditations refers to "A Kind Heart" as the Jewel of the Universe. I've listened to the CD many times, but this morning the words reverberated through my mind as an absolute truism. In trying times kindness goes a long way.
When my son was in Iraq he said what he and his fellow Marines looked forward to most were letters from home. Home was not necessarily correspondence from friends and family. Often a letter was simply address "Soldier" or "To a Marine." A few kind and caring words from a complete stranger brightened their day. After a nightmarish day in the field, mail call was a time of joy. A letter from home reminded them in many places of the world life was still full of hope for the future. War zones are not filled with kindness, but those letters certainly were.
Monday I received a message from a past client. Her husband passed away over the weekend quite unexpectedly. Her message included a thank you to me for "All the ways you helped us in the past." In her time of grief she thanked me for my kindness. It was a powerful reminder our daily actions have lasting consequences and make a deep impression on the people who pass through our lives. Kindness cushions the pain of loss.
The economy and the housing market are creating enormous loss and a large number of people on falling on hard times they never imagined possible. The problems and financial woes are overwhelming for many, others have no idea how they can help. Each of us contains a Jewel of the Universe; a kind heart does not cost money. A few moments of time and heartfelt words are priceless gifts and should be shared with great abandon. Not only will it lift the spirit of the receiver, it will enrich the giver as well.
When my son was in Iraq he said what he and his fellow Marines looked forward to most were letters from home. Home was not necessarily correspondence from friends and family. Often a letter was simply address "Soldier" or "To a Marine." A few kind and caring words from a complete stranger brightened their day. After a nightmarish day in the field, mail call was a time of joy. A letter from home reminded them in many places of the world life was still full of hope for the future. War zones are not filled with kindness, but those letters certainly were.
Monday I received a message from a past client. Her husband passed away over the weekend quite unexpectedly. Her message included a thank you to me for "All the ways you helped us in the past." In her time of grief she thanked me for my kindness. It was a powerful reminder our daily actions have lasting consequences and make a deep impression on the people who pass through our lives. Kindness cushions the pain of loss.
The economy and the housing market are creating enormous loss and a large number of people on falling on hard times they never imagined possible. The problems and financial woes are overwhelming for many, others have no idea how they can help. Each of us contains a Jewel of the Universe; a kind heart does not cost money. A few moments of time and heartfelt words are priceless gifts and should be shared with great abandon. Not only will it lift the spirit of the receiver, it will enrich the giver as well.
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