Many years ago when I was much more involved in the ‘me’ generation and the encounter/growth movement I went to talk to a therapist friend. I was once again in some sort of crisis (what happened to all these crises I went through? Twenty years ago it seemed like every second day there was some major life crisis that had to be resolved IMMEDIATELY or I could not go on and now I hardly ever feel the same mad urgency) and of course wanted help to sort things out. The advice I was given has helped me throughout my life:
You can go into some sort of catharsis, emotional release, primal experience, therapeutic intervention and things will change, or
You can do nothing, and things will change.
Being basically lazy, I did nothing in that particular situation. I just sort of relaxed. This was the first time I really saw that life moves on and things change regardless of what we do. It doesn’t mean that we can’t affect our lives by our actions or nudge things in a way we want, but that life has a rhythm and flow irrespective of us.
I have been married for over 40 years. This is a fact that looks ridiculous and remarkable when it is stated in writing. I love my husband and he still has the power to seduce and romance me and also to infuriate me. Perhaps these things are inexorably linked. I realise that being in relationship with anyone, whether husband, lover, friend, sibling or child, needs attention and feeding. It struck me this morning when I was looking at the houseplants that in the winter they get watered less and not fed at all until the spring growing season starts. I suddenly wondered whether I sometimes treat those I love in a similar way. While I go into my winter hibernation are my friends and loved ones feeling taken for granted or neglected?
Relationships need regular attention and feeding all year round to thrive.
I love to cook and one of my delights is to have time and space to cook and bake and invite friends to share food. This ties in to my longing for community and family. Maybe this comes from growing up in a small family and having very little extended family. My mother was a good cook, if limited to heavier Eastern European type of food. When I was a little kid and guests came, the good china came out, the white tablecloth, the silver (plated) serving dishes and always an abundantly laid table. I still do much the same, though I fore go the tablecloths and good china. I get great pleasure from seeing the wonderful array of food delights I have made and it feeds a creative need in me at the same time.
Food can be an expression of love, though whether it is eaten or not is not a rejection of that love – thus assuring that not all Jewish children grow up fat!
My children are all grown up. They are independent adults. This is a reality that I sometimes find difficult. I still feel the need to offer advice, try to solve their problems (that may not even be problems) and worry incessantly. Often they do not need the advice; sometimes they come and ask for it. They do not need me to solve their problems, or decide what their problems are, and worrying, well what to say about worrying? An interesting masturbatory activity. It changes nothing but gives the illusion of doing something valuable and necessary. My kids are fine. They are loving, responsible, caring human beings. They manage just fine without my madness taking over their lives.
A very wise teacher of mine once pointed out that when children are small they need parenting. They need us to tell them not to put their fingers into a hot fire or how to cross the street and look out for cars. When our children get older they don’t need parenting anymore, hopefully they will have grown their own inner parent.
Genuine love and respect are about allowing those around us to mature and grow in their own way and make their own choices.
My father has dementia. Slowly he is declining in his cognitive abilities. Recently he was asked if he had any advice for life. This what he said -
1. Do what you know
2. Buy a good car
3. Family is everything – without family you got nothing!
My brother and I could understand all these points, but when my brother asked him why buy a good car, my dad said (and I’m not sure that he has any awareness of the depth of his reply)
”What, you want to spend your life breaking down all the time?!”
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