This Is Us

When we are in relationship with others, our differences are more evident than our similarities. No place is this more apparent than in marriage. Tom and I have been married for almost 25 years, and our many differences are as evident today as they were when we were starry-eyed in love on the day of our wedding.

I’m prickly. He’s buttoned up.

I’m multi-layered and a tad complicated. He has a deep, gentle core and is more straight forward.

I experience and express all of my feelings ad nauseam. He’s darn good at avoiding any emotions that rock his internal Hakuna Matata, much less putting words to them.

I’m a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of girl. He’s a planner.

I can go for days without a shower. He can’t.

I state my needs and preferences quickly, and perhaps a little too easily. He poses a question as a backdoor way of stating his desires without having to take ownership for them.

I care about form first, function second. He starts with function and hopes for form.

I move fast. He’s methodical.

I can commander any conversation. He tends to take a back seat.

I know I’ll find a parking space close in. He’s pretty sure he won’t.

I’m messy. He’s, ummm, not.

A good example of how this plays out happened the other morning. We were staying at Los Poblanos, a drop-dead fabulous historic inn in Albuquerque, NM. Sitting in bed with our cups of French Press coffee, it went something like this.

Act 1

Him: Do you want to explore the grounds after our coffee?

Me: Yes! And then go to breakfast. (Rated the best breakfast in all of New Mexico.)

Him: But shower first, right?

Me: (Big sigh) Can’t we just be spontaneous?

Him: (Jaw muscles clench) A shower just wakes me up.

Me: And you don’t think a brisk walk in 31 degree air will do that?

Him: (More jaw clenching)

Me: (Bigger sigh) Fine. We can come back, you shower, and I’ll keep walking or read or something.

We finish our coffee in strained silence and head out for a walk.

Act 2

It was a glorious morning, and as we wandered the trails discovering secret gardens, meditation spaces, the resident llamas, took in the attention to detail in the design of the buildings and grounds, and breathed the fresh morning air, the sun on our faces warmed up our hearts. Pretty soon we were laughing, holding hands, and giving thanks for the unbelievable blessing of even being able to grant ourselves this kind of experience.

Me: Who gets to do this??

Him: Today, I guess we do.

Me: It feels so good to be out here together.

Him: (Deep laugh) I think I want breakfast.

Me: Now? Before your shower?

Him: Yep. It’s amazing how rigid I think I have to be in my mind. Thank you for challenging me to do it differently.

We finish our walk and head off to breakfast in happy silence.

Act 3

We head into Campo for breakfast. Our server comes by our table with coffee, and I jump straight into an energetic conversation with her.

Me: We had the most amazing dinner last night.

Her: I’m so happy to hear that.

Me: We both think it was one of the best, if not the best meal we’ve ever had anywhere.

Her: Wow! My partner is the Sous Chef. I’ll be sure and tell him. What did you order?

Me: I had the Rib-Eye. OMG, it was beyond delicious. We also had the Sashimi, the grilled asparagus, and Tom had the Pork Chop.

We order our breakfast.

Act 4

We sip our coffee in easy silence for a few minutes.

Him: (In a quiet, gentle voice) I’d like to offer an observation. You jumped into that conversation, took off running, and didn’t give me a chance to answer for myself or give my opinion.

Me: (Taking a moment) You are so right. I don’t even see myself doing it.

Him: Just like when I ask you what you want as a way avoiding taking ownership for my own needs.

Me: Yes!

Him: You are really helping me with that.

Me: Like you just helped me.

Here is the truth—we are different in so many ways, and while we sometimes drive each other crazy, we’ve also come to count on the gifts that come wrapped in our differences. When all is said and done…this is us.

IMG_5601.jpeg

Givers Of Life

Once a month I have a video call with two individuals who are not only respected colleagues, but also dear friends. It is a call that I look forward to from the moment we end our time together until the next one rolls around. The three of us have worked together in various ways over the years, and while we value and respect one another professionally, it is the personal connection that keeps us coming back for more. Together we’ve created a safe space for courageous thinking, a shelter from our storms, and a shared home for our hearts and hurts.

Every call has a way of infusing more life into my being.

Today was supposed to be our monthly call, and as much as I look forward to it, I almost bowed out of it. After a couple of emotionally packed weeks, I simply felt like I didn’t have the capacity to show up as anything but a worn out mess, and taking anything off of my calendar sounded like a good idea. When I mentioned this to my sister who is here visiting, like any good big sister, she had a word of advice. She reminded me of how life-giving this call always is, and thankfully, like any good little sister, I listened to her.

No matter how I show up at the beginning of the call, I am always better at the end of it, and today was no exception.

The moral of the story?

Make time for life-giving connections, and listen to your big sister.

IMG_4956.jpeg

Family Reunion

Today, Gracie-the-chocolate-labradoodle had a brief reunion with her dad Gryffindor, and her sister Piper. The last time these three family members were together was on December 1st, and I will never forget Gracie’s first night at home. That’s because I was awake all night, as she howled and cried in her crate next to our bed until it was time to get up.

It was her first night away from the only family she had ever known, and her loneliness and pain were heard in every high pitched cry. I can’t even imagine how scary and confusing that must have been for her. The next night, Tom suggested that we move her crate into the mudroom, and that one of us sleep on the floor next to her for a few nights, as she began to adjust to her new pack,. Tom took the first night, I took the next one, and by the third night, she was ready to sleep on her own.

She was home, and we were family.

Watching her reconnect with her first family today, it was easy to see that they recognized one another immediately, as they sniffed and wagged, sniffed and wagged, and of course, sniffed some more. Looking at Gracie and Piper, I could see the similarities - the shape of their faces and their body size - and the differences - their color and the texture of their coats. Like all of us, their shared genetics and early experiences have shaped the pups that they are today, and will continue to influence who they become as they mature.

As I watched this family reunion in progress, I was reminded that there’s no getting around it, family is family. And whether we stick together like glue, or hope we never see one another again, our family is always a part of who we are. There are no perfect families, and most of ours are a mixture of the good, the bad, and the seriously ugly, and we get to choose what to do with the family we’ve got. When it comes to family, it seems that the very best we can do is to celebrate every single shred of goodness, learn and grow from the bad, and heal from and leave behind the ugly so as not to pass it on to the next generation.

Driving away from that sweet reunion, I was grateful once again for yet another lesson from our Gracie-Girl, and for the fact that we two legged types don’t have to sniff and wag in order to recognize family.

IMG_5372.jpeg

Only Say It ONCE

Lately it seems my best teachers are small humans younger than three years of age, four-legged pups, and expert dog trainers.  

As we work to help Gracie-the-chocolate-labradoodle become her best and happiest doggie self, we are leaning on the wisdom of one Matt Luchinger, owner and trainer extraordinaire of NWB Dogs (North West Balanced Dog Training). He has a basic principle that not only applies to dogs, but could help us become our best and happiest human selves too...

Only say it ONCE.

When working with Gracie, and teaching her to respond to our commands, Matt is very clear on ONE point. Only say the command ONE time. For example, if asking her to “Sit”, we are to say the command word once, and then wait for her to respond by, well, sitting. There are several steps leading up to helping her recognize the word, and what is expected of her, but once it is clear that she understands what we are asking of her (which she does), when we repeat the word multiple times, we are training her that we don’t really mean what we say. That she can take her own sweet time and sit when she is good and ready. Not what we are after. Allowing her to ignore our request is setting her up for behaviorial issues, and potential risk of harm down the road. If that happens, Gracie is not the one responsible. That outcome lies squarely at our feet. We are the ones who have trained her not to take us seriously by giving her a mixed message, and if we could read her little doggie thought bubble, it would probably say, “Do they really mean it or not?” 

The same can be said in our human interactions and relationships. When we develop the skills to say what we mean, and demonstrate that we mean what we say, everyone will be better served. When we have to repeat ourselves multiple times in order for get people to take us seriously, it might not be on them. Maybe we’ve been giving them a mixed message, and if we could read their little thought bubble, it would probably say “Do they really mean it, or not?”

IMG_1346.JPG