State of confusion

Though I never intended this blog to become a place to cry and expel all things to the void, sometimes I do revert to that because there has to be an outlet. Some things are not expressible to another person. Not because they are so terrible, but because they are so unfathomable. And so I attempt here to do what I can't do, haven't been able to do, out of cyberspace.

I can't explain what goes on inside. Some people understand my ramblings because they feel the same things. Others try but don't get it. And the remainder stare with the blankest of looks. For all the goodness and care that two current sounding-boards demonstrate, it's no good trying to dump what's inside. I can tell that I made one of the pair uncomfortable. I'm sorry for that because I simply don't want to make such situations. But things haven't been like this for me in a long time. It hasn't been so bleak and confusing in some years. Sure, there are professionals, but I can't spend every day in such a setting. And I am expected to deal with a certain amount on my own. And so I should have. Then these uncomfortable situations wouldn't begin to build up.

If I sound as if I am babbling, I am. As I said, I can't explain. I feel a little mad at the moment. I feel like another person. When will I come in for landing? When will the fog clear? Only time will tell.

So the best thing to do is withdraw and wait. Rather than accept friendly help, perhaps it's best for all if I simply wait this out on my own. I wouldn't want to lose the couple concerned people. There are so few. Rather than run them off, perhaps I should suffer in silence. After all, it will go away. Won't it?

Jane, stop this crazy thing!

That's what I feel like yelling out. Yet, simultaneously, I do not want it to stop. Don't slow. Keep going as fast as this past week. Never stop. It's scary as hell, but it's bringing me peace at the same time.

Yeah, how can that be?

I wouldn't have believed it myself if I hadn't taken the ride. I keep dropping quarters in each time I sense the ride slowing, and, just as I expect, acceleration happens.

The week has been most interesting. Particularly Wednesday and Thursday. Those were the strangest days I've lived through in a very long time. They are vivid in my memory, and yet, somehow, they seem so fuzzy and far away.

I suppose perhaps that is a self-defense mechanism kicking in unconsciously. It's the way that I try to deal with the sudden changes and the tremendous shift of paradigm that has exploded in my world. Else, my brain might rupture from trying to process all the words, feelings, events that unfolded on those days.

So, you may say, get to the point! What happened? What the heck exploded into your life that has you babbling so wildly. These are but wild and whirling words! Put your discourse into some form and make me a wholesome answer. (Apologies to William.)

Ah, I pull back at this point from telling the entire story. Rather, brief let me be. About the details, at least.

Being a very private person, I have a lot of untold things that have remained buried for years, and some things not so long. Things that, to me, seem things to be ashamed of or embarrassed by, and so they have remained under the layers of dirt that I continue to pile on them. So deep are they that I can name very quickly the short list of people who know, and even shorter, much so, is the list of people who know combinations or all of it. Probably only two people know it all.

So, why would I, in the space of a few minutes, spew out half of The Big Secrets to someone I have only gotten to know well in the last couple of months?

That, my friend, is the question of the day.

I have no idea what brought it on. In some ways it feels like a set up. It feels like I was plunged into a situation that would leave me no choice but surrender, backed into a corner. However, I know full well that is not the case. The person to whom I made confession wouldn't have a clue, and has no malicious intent. The thought has occurred to me that a Higher Authority might have orchestrated it all. If so...amen, let it be so. I am His tool to use as He sees fit. He is the potter; I am the clay.

And so I did tell some of those things that have lain fallow by purpose. A couple of the painful things, including my most preserved thing. And what do you suppose his reaction was?

That was the kicker, the beginning of the life change.

I figured, for certain, it would lower his estimate of me. He would now view me as some sort of damaged merchandise to be thrown out to make room for the new and improved merchandise to soon be brought in. He would think I was nuts. Not just nuts as in fun and wacky. Nuts as in insane, literally. I was certain this was the beginning of the end of this relationship, so new in nature.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

"You're an incredible person!"

What? Me? ME??? No way. Can't happen. Who is standing behind me that you are addressing? You can't possibly mean me.

"You have a story that would help so many people. You need to write a book."

WHAT? Now I know who is out of mind, and it ain't me.

Admit to PEOPLE all those things that I've worked so long to bury and keep quiet for so many long years?? Are you kidding, or nuts? Uh uh. No way, no how.

So...what happened that was so life changing? Just one admittance of Those Things?

No. I'm working on a speech...to give before people to tell my story. And not just any people. Before my coworkers. People who know me and people who are among those that I've most kept in the dark.

Scares the hell out of me.

So why do it? It would be easier to just keep quiet. Probably.

I do it not because it is easy, but because it is hard.

And that's not the end of the story. That's the beginning. Because this is a test case to see if I'm willing to go through with it. Afterwards? We'll see what happens first, but I'm thinking that telling my story IS a good thing after all. Other speaking opportunities? A book? Real possibilities. We'll see...after the first time.

Scares the hell out of me.

Gives me peace also. I feel a great weight has been lifted. I feel some freedom. It's easier not having to work so hard to hide it all. Since I've made this choice, my outlook has been different; people tell me I'm different. In the space of two days. Quite a ride, quite a difference, quite a change of paradigm. Instead of wasting so much time and energy hiding, I can live in the open and in freedom, and maybe help someone on the way. All I have to do is take a chance.

The ride is slowing. Where are my quarters??

Thanks, Roy.

Pie

Roy told me of a fellow who gives motivational talks. This fellow used the metaphor of a pie to demonstrate how some people build others up while others only tear down. He referred to them as pie givers and pie takers. Roy told me I needed to surround myself with more pie givers, so I would have pie instead of a lack of pie.

I like the metaphor.

Roy is a pie giver. I always have excess when I have been around Roy. I want to be a pie giver too. He taught me that it takes so little time and effort to be nice to someone and make them feel good. It's a simple lesson and I should have learned it long ago. However, it came at a time when I was so much more susceptible to it, and it came from one who does live what he says. Roy talks the talk and walks the walk.

I want to also.

This last weekend I had a weekend filled to overflowing with people who built me up. (Note to myself for memory aide, but to stay modest also. It was at an award ceremony.) Quite literally everyone was nicer than I realized so many people could be at one time and place. From Dr. Meehan to the lady who controlled access to the suites and so opened the door for everyone...with a big smile every time. Everyone was so wonderful. I rode an emotional high from Saturday morning until Tuesday morning. An overflowing of pie that took me through more than one day.

And then Tuesday morning, this morning, I attended a forum where quite literally everyone was cold and pushy and...well, to keep it clean and simple...very much not nice. Pie robbers. They didn't get pie from me because I wanted to give it to them. They took it by force against my wishes. Robbery. They took even when there was nothing left to take.

No wonder I was in such a horrible and angry mood when I got home. Spouse wondered what in the world was wrong with me...and why the very sudden and quite drastic change.

Robbers. Meanies. Self-absorbed.

It's a cold world.

That's why I want to be a pie giver. But I want to do it willingly, and sincerely. I don't want to be extorted.

My experience of this morning could have left me bitter enough to trash the entire idea. Why should I go out of my way to be nice to people who are robbers? Well, I don't want to be like the rest of the cold world. I want to be one of those who helps change the world. Yeah, serving pie always makes people happy. Just think of a big slab of hot apple pie with cold ice cream melting over the sides. Makes you smile, doesn't it? It makes others smile too when they receive it.

Build up.

Be a pie giver.

Thanks, Roy, for being a pie giver and for teaching me how to be one.

What's the use?

I spend probably as much as half my life wishing for things that never happen, will never happen and have no chance of happening.

Yes, I'm sure everyone will say, "me too!" The only thing that makes my situation different is that the greatest portion of my wishes are for simple things, for things that do not cost much or anything. That's why it's harder to come to terms with the consequences. I can accept that I'll never win the lottery, that I'll never be chosen for advancement to a plum position, that I'll never win the Nobel Peace Prize. Those are items or events that certainly have a place in people's dreams and always will. And it never hurts one to dream.

But when you wish for the friendship of a person, not an unattainable celebrity or renown politician, but the friendship of the person down the hallway. Just someone to sit and talk with in those lonely or troubled moments. Or just talk about anything. When that simple and attainable goal doesn't happen, and repeatedly, it does begin to turn one's eyes inward. If there are so many people who choose not to be friendly toward me, then the possibility that they all have a problem begins to fade quickly.

So what's wrong with me? What fatal character flaw do I possess that makes so many people flee me? I really would like to know, difficult as it may be to hear. I would truly like to know what I do or have done, what I seem or not...do I stink?

Even being bold enough to ASK doesn't bring satisfaction. I believe that no one will say because of fear of hurting feelings. "No, there's no problem." Proverbially, actions speak louder than words. I'm weary of being the one to continue to run after others to keep the friendship, if that's what it actually is, current and warm. Am I so forgettable? Or not forgettable, but, gee, they wish I'd be...be gone!

I would even take Making Friends 101 if that would help, if it were offered, artificial as that probably would make things. I thought (as people have told me without my asking) that I was a caring and warm person. Either they all lie to me or I am not that way and as soon as they discover that, they try to wiggle away.

Oh yes, I'm sure it sounds as if I'm feeling sorry for myself. Maybe so. I'm only human after all. But after many years of this, self-pity doesn't come first, so much as that burning desire to know what it is about me that is such a friend-repellent.

Let them know

The world is a cold place. Common courtesy is dead. Selfishness reigns. Concern for others is wheezing its last breath. People no longer respond "you're welcome" to a sincere thanks, but rather belt out, "no problem!", as if a request for assistance is a problem, unless it is officially pronounced not so. That has become part of the culture and many people are surprised that I find it rude. That's one of many barometers of how far our society has degenerated.

Social entropy. Society continues to trend toward its lowest energy state. Measure that energy as compassion, courtesy, selflessness...or many other synonyms. Drag out Roget.

Because such is the case, it is beyond refreshing to become acquainted with someone who defies the trend and dares to give abundantly of himself. It's very close to amazing. I had thought that nowadays one needed to be intimately befriended to someone for years before that person would open up to true generosity and compassion. Color me bemused, but well pleased.

It is equally important to let such a person know that he stands out, and that it's appreciated. Oh yes, in this world, it's much appreciated. In our entropic society, how many people will return to someone to let him or her know that individual had an affect, made a difference, contributed something of substance that helped one make it through another day? As rare as courtesy, which that is, indeed.

But also let us not forget the people already in our life who have shown us love, friendship and care. Don't take that for granted. It is such a rare commodity these days. A sincere, simple "thank you" can mean so much...so long as it is sincere. I don't intend to forget those whose friendship I have and their adoption tried. It was simply such a surprise to meet someone who was open and caring from the beginning.

So, let them know. It takes a moment to say thank you. It takes a moment longer to say why. And this costs nothing. What easier gift can one give than something which is a builder and which takes so little effort? Perhaps you wish to put more effort into it. A little anonymous note is a wry touch. If one can't bring thank you to the lips, or is doubting of how it will be accepted, or thinks it may be looked upon as seeking favor, then a slip of paper expressing appreciation is the perfect solution. Use your imagination...be creative. Even if it's a simple doodle around the edges. If you wish to take more effort, then that effort will be noticed and appreciated.

Let everyone know how much you appreciate them. Start a revolution. Be kind. Be friendly. Be caring. It takes energy to reverse entropy. But that energy will not be expended in vain.

Emerging

It has been a long and quiet absence from blogging. However, the intervening months have been anything but quiet, though they have been long. I am not here to cry on any one's shoulder though, nor air it all. The truth is that very few truly care to hear a whit of it, much less the gory details. I had hoped things would begin to settle by now. How many crises can happen in one's life consecutively for ten months now? Quite a few, it seems.

Life continues though. Whether one wishes it or not, it is so. No matter how difficult, how painful, nor how horrificly life can slam a person into the ground, indifferent Life goes on without skipping a beat. And perhaps that is the lesson. We must go on as well. Even in the uncertainty and hurt of events, we must go on. Is there a choice?

As it turns out, there is a choice. I've stood on the precipice many times and considered. I have felt the ground begin to crumble 'neath my feet. Someone else besides I knows what safety net has been strung and who strung it; I know not. Many times I do not care.

This time I care more. Maybe that's a sign that I'm growing up. Certainly my many years make me an adult. However, I know that inside I still tend to wander as an unknowing and uncaring child, searching for that mature one to guide me, rescue me, teach me.

To dredge up the overly used maxim and arrange it to my use, if it's true that what does not kill one makes one stronger, then I should be the Incredible Hulk at this point. I certainly do not feel it. My knees and my heart still tremble and quake each day I must face. What now? Which new round will Life fire at my broken heart? Will this be the one to still it?

It's not an enjoyable way to face each day.

Even if I may not be emerging yet from the crucible of testing, at least I am emerging from the silence. The blog may be completely passed by perusers, but it is my corner, where I can be me and take these things out to examine, and maybe leave them behind, shed them, as I do emerge from the crucible. Time will tell...as Life goes on.

Life, Death, Family and Managers

I found out this week there is a connection between all these. The connection of life and death is obvious and I won't belabor it. The connection of family to life and death seems obvious but is not always so. Family should enhance life, reinvigorate life, but so many times family can bring such things that seem more like death. "YouAlways Hurt the One You Love ' is the name of a song but, to use the trite expression, life imitates art, and so it is for me. Refrain from the sad stories and, in fact, too much information of what deep hurts family inflicted on me. We all have stories. Some are deeper and more intense. I will simply say that I was an outsider to my immediate family in reality, not just perception.

Even so, the precise meaning of death is absence of life. That condition devolved on my father this week. What a chaos this released in my life. I wasn't certain if I should feel grief or not. Yes, of course, he was my father, but that does not instantly mean that grief follows. That is determined by the form of the relationship while life remained. Much later I realized that what I felt was grief. Indeed, not what you might think. Of course I was not glad he died, but what I mourned was the relationship that never was, and now has no chance of being. But I digress...

Brief let me be. I discovered that my father died, not from my brother or sister, but from a stranger, a nurse, and quite soon after it happened. So, the sequence is receive an email, make a call and find out. But his death wasn't so sudden. He had been in the hospital nearly three weeks. I had no clue.

Such being the state of affairs, calling brother or sister for commiserating or consolation was not an option. (Confirmed by the call my brother eventually gave me to inform me of the death, gruff and no hint of conciliation and no further communication.) Naturally I did talk to my wonderful, steadfast spouse. I have talked at length about him previously, so I will simply say he was as strong and supportive as always. Still, it does take time for any such emotional trauma to thaw and resolve itself into a dew.

Not wishing to go home alone to think and not reckon it all out for myself, I remained at work. What a joke. I should mark that day as leave and be honest about it, for all I accomplished afterward. I couldn't sit still at my desk. I wandered the corridor, trying to make sense of all the conflicted emotions. That's when I ran into the director of our department. Roy is a nice guy, but I really don't know him. I haven't interacted with him much outside of meetings and "hi"in the hallway. I don't think it took a great deal of perception for him to realize, as he put it, "you don't look okay". Roy invited me to talk in his office. I would have talked to anyone who showed the slightest interest. Download and relieve the pressure.

This is what brings me to the manager connection. Managers have historically been, for me, a touchy subject and situation. Yeah, we all know that story too. We have our stories. And I've heard the other side--the good managers who care and are easy to work for. I have very little experience there, let me be clear.

It did cross my mind, having that background, what are you doing in the director's office pouring out your guts?? So, color me surprised when Roy enveloped me in this snug, compassionate, bear hug. I didn't know he could do that. Hey, I'm a hugger. I like giving and receiving. And it was a good quality hug. He listened patiently with true interest and offered insights that, in my state of mind, I hadn't thought of. He gave me time and attention, the best thing at such a time. Generous and sincere.

My branch chief, Julie, was equally compassionate. (No, I didn't run all over and cry on all shoulders I could find. However, death is information that a manager should know.) She was free with her time and showed genuine interest and concern. Talking to her, whom I know not well, was like talking to a long time friend. She made it that way. She checked on me through the rest of the week.

I work for wonderful managers. I simply didn't realize how wonderful until now. Two managers that I didn't know well at all showed more compassion and concern than family. (See, it is all coming together.) Family offered death, in more than one way, and managers offered life. Too heavily philosophical? Probably, but I'm sure some of you know just how deeply something like this shoves one into thinking a great deal, maybe too much.

Thanks Roy and Julie. Many thanks many times over. Managers are people too. I shall treat them so since they have treated me that way.For all of you suffering loss, my great condolences. I wish I could reach out to you the same way.