serendipity

Walking the Talk

I've never been a fan of new year's resolutions. So many promises focused on health - really weight - and after a month of vigorous participation, most of us slide into sporadic attendance to be followed quickly by the familiar pattern of wishful thinking and guilt.

For many years I didn't set any resolutions, I simply welcomed the new year and hoped for the best. The past few years have been on the tough side, and I've decided to break some of my established patterns in an effort to control my destiny - at least the things that I can. Remember that episode of Seinfeld when George decided to act oppositely of every natural impulse he had? And remember how that worked out so well (mostly)? Well, that's kind of where I'm at right now.

I'm in a rut. Working all the time, but not necessarily working as smart as I could. Also, I'm not writing anymore, and I'm not exploring music the way I want to.

Part of the reason why I set my life/career in this direction was so that I could do more of the things I love and spend more time with the people I love. And while life in small business can be a series of pop quizzes, I have to acknowledge my own role in the cycle. (see definition: insanity)

For 2015 I'm making a few changes:

1. I'm going to write every day. I may not post every day, but I made a pact with my girl that we would both write for 15 minutes a day - posting at least 3 times a week. (Time: 6:51) She wants to be a journalist and I think she will benefit from more practice writing under pressure. I will benefit from getting back on the proverbial horse and trying to write a post that consists of less than 1000 words (word count: 286).

2. I going to do a better job of managing my job priorities and stop characterizing them in my head as "juggling. " I have a tendancy to focus on the fire burning closest to my body, which is not always, all urgent imagery aside, the most important thing. Related: I will stop setting fires.

3. I will be kinder to myself and to those around me by picking my words more carefully. I have been blessed with a large vocabulary, and sometimes I allow it to veer into the dramatic and/or negative. Not totally sure why that is (hmmm, could that be resolution #4?) but as I said above, I'm going to actively change "juggling" to "managing," "crazy busy" to "getting things done" etc. Words matter, as does positivity. I will also stop picking apart my writing, which has, over time, become a genuine obstacle to writing.

4. Positivity. In all things. As much as I can muster without feeling insincere nor putting on rose-colored glasses nor losing sight of what's important. I tell my youngest that happiness is a choice, that the glass is half-full. Now I'm looking in the mirror when I say that.

5. Health. I know, I know, it sounds like such a crock of shit to even put it on the list, and yet. My goal is not to get down to 140lbs, although that would be sweet. My goal is not to look good in a bathing suit or to wear tight-fitting clothes. My goal is to get outside, do a little cardio, breathe some fresh air, adjust my perspective, look for wildlife and maybe get a little fitter in the process. The Mister and I get along much better when we take a morning walk, talk about our kids, think about the day to come and strategize in general. It's good for him, it's good for me and it's on the list.

Time: 15:59 - 538 words (edited to 620 - totally the wrong direction).

The Hardest Word

Someone owes me an apology. 

Someone I know socially and thought was a friend, in part because she is with someone who is a very good friend and partly because I've known her for a long time. We were never what you would call great friends, but we were friendly and she was nice to my kids (my soft spot). And it seemed like we should be friends, because we have things in common. Friends and interests in common. That's where friendship begins, right?

Flash back to several years ago: there was a party and a friend who was upset about something that, in the big picture doesn't really matter, but over breakfast the next day was annoying and confusing to everyone. I commiserated, in a way less vocal than what one might expect from me. In a way less vocal than I might expect from myself - I am not known for my suppressed opinions. But in a disagreement between friends I felt uncomfortable and kept mostly silent.

For all the good it did.

Because this "friend," this mutual someone, gossiped about me to others, attributing remarks to me that I never said, in a way that almost completely killed my friendship with one of the parties in the temporary annoyance. What she said was 90% untrue, and it was more than a little galling that any of our mutual friends would believe me capable of such bad faith. Yet here we are, years later, and one friend is only kind of over it. Part of him believes I said terrible things about him. So much so that when he and I finally discussed The Annoyance face to face, I could see in his eyes that he didn't completely believe me, and still today there is a rift in the treasured friendship. We stopped having dinner together, coffee together. I was heartbroken. It was like losing a family member. A godfather, actually.

And so, with a few casual lies over lunch, she destroyed a friendship of over 20 years, maybe forever.

But she is with my other friend, someone sweet, without guile and deserving of unconditional love. Someone who should be appreciated and cared for and whom I love like a brother.

I should try to get over it, right? For his sake. That is what Jesus would do. What the Dalai Lama would do. What Salvador Dali would do. This is what I told myself. Over and over again. But I was operating at a net loss, and it was hard to get over. 

It's one thing to have lost a friendship, it is quite another to have it stolen from you.

Eventually I was able to meet her socially without wanting to shake her by the shoulders (or punch her in the face). Eventually I mustered my inner bigger person and accepted the inevitability of her presence and moved on. I'm good at not remembering slights which is perfect for this kind of situation. I let it go, more or less. We had fewer invitations from the beloved friend she gossiped to, and that stung. But after a while one can be perceived as protesting too much. So I stopped talking about it and hoped for the best. Waited for time to heal. 

Years pass, and instead of healing, she inflicts a new injury, an obvious and public slight. Invited to dinner, then univited to dinner. Two hours before dinner, after we were dressed, before we actually left. After the kids knew of our plans. After we'd discussed the dinner with friends, what we would bring, what time we would be there, etc. Nothing important, simply another dinner where we would all be together. Except not.

A simple text to announce "Rain." And not enough room for us. Sorry. "We'll see you next time."

Everyone knew, but no one knew why. I still don't know why.

Reports back from the dinner were "everyone who is always there was there, except for you. Dinner as usual."

Friends who were aware of the slight were embarrassed and uneasy, they knew that something had happened,  a line had been drawn, but no one knew why. What had we done?

The best part of being me is that I almost always know when I've made someone upset and why. 

But not this time.

As far I knew, I was the injured party - from that time years ago, the thing she and I never talked about and no one apologized and we all just pretended had never happened.

So what could I have done except to ignore a grievous slight?

Here's the thing: for The Annoyance, 90% of the words attributed to me were untrue - but 10% was true. I was not blameless. So part of my getting over it was accepting my responsibility and moving forward. But for this dinner, this slight, I did nothing for which I can account. And still today, months later, I can't ignore the insult and I'm not getting over it. Even though a bigger person surely would.

What would Salvadore Dali do?

I'm sure I should forgive and forget and blah blah fucking blah. Suck it up. See the big picture. Ignore the smaller person who insists on making herself smaller at every opportunity.

But no. All I can see are melting clocks.

I'm owed an apology. A real one. Not a back-handed simper "I'm sorry you feel that I slighted you in front of your children and all of your friends." Kiss kiss.

The ironic part is that the universe keeps showing me articles written by other people about how to apologize. The best is this one, and it's one that I fully intend to incorporate into our family. But not for this event, because while there may be outstanding apologies for me to give, this is not one of them.

And while I hate to think of myself as unforgiving, I'm also starting to believe that if you turn the other cheek too many times in the face of obvious treachery, you are living the definition of insanity. Complete with melting clocks and crazy mustaches.

I look terrible in a mustache.