Love Is Ridiculous

I’m a flipper-outer.

For example, yesterday morning we were about to head out to meet friends at a nearby wildlife refuge for a lovely summer morning meander, and I was running a little late. The sock in one of my shoes didn’t feel quite right so I had to take it off and start over. The dog’s e-collar was giving me fits. The handle on the fridge needed wiping off so that our friends wouldn’t think less of us if they happened to open the door to grab a beer. I couldn’t find my water bottle. I dropped my phone. It was one of those days when every step of trying to get out the door came with some sort of hitch, and I could feel the inner tension growing. The faster I moved, the worse it got.

Putting a cup of coffee into the microwave I knocked the cup against the side of the door, slopping coffee on the counter………….

Fuck!!!!! I hate having to hurry, I yelled at no one.

Dumping my now hot coffee into the travel mug, I slammed the microwave door. For good measure, I slammed the open cupboard door next to it (because along with being a flipper-outer, I’m also a door leaver-opener). Turning around, Tom was simply leaning against the sink with his cup of coffee, a slight smile on his face. He is unmistakably not a flipper-outer because (A) he simply isn’t wired that way, and (B) I do enough flipping out for both of us.

“Thank you for never (well, hardly ever) making this (me flipping out) into a teachable moment. It feels like you are just watching me thinking ‘God, I love that girl’.”

Pretty much, he said.

And the ridiculous thing is, he means it.

It’s quite a thing to be loved not only in spite of my messiness, but because of it too.

God, I love that guy.

Bouncing Off Ideas

What is your idea of marriage?

This is a question posed by a good friend of mine when he is providing pre-marital counseling to a couple. Each person has the opportunity to share their answer out loud with the other. In other words, they take the opportunity to bounce their ideas off of one another before actually getting married.

It’s a brilliant question to ask, and an equally brilliant practice to hone .

Because the truth of the matter is, marriage isn’t just two people coming together. It is also the joining of two ideas about what marriage means. What marriage looks like. Which is all well and good until we encounter something where our ideas don’t match up. Which is where the rubber meets the relationship road.

My hunch is that the healthiest, most resilient marriages, or relationships of any sort for that matter, aren’t those where both people see everything the same way all the time. Rather, over time, they have honed the skills to uncover how they each see things, and then use what they discover to better navigate the road ahead.

After 26 years together, my husband and I are still honing these skills.

We had talked about getting our Christmas tree today. Which for us means tromping out onto our property to find a tree that will have to be cut down eventually anyway because it is in our view corridor.

So.

In my mind, we were going to bundle up, take our time, meander here and there, find the tree, cut it down, drag it back to the house, and set it up. Twinkle lights, a few ornaments, candles on the mantle, and a Christmas movie in the background.

Which was all well and good until Tom came downstairs ready to get out there, cut it down, drag it back to the house, and get back up to his office as quickly as possible. Because we hadn’t bounced our ideas off of each other, we found them butting up against each other instead. Thankfully, we stuck it out as we’ve learned to do, talking it through from both of our angles, and combining my idea with his idea to come up with our idea.

Tom headed back up to his office, and I bundled up and headed outside for a good long walk with Gracie-the-chocolate-labradoodle, looking over a few of our tree options along the way.

The same thing happens to all of us all the time. We have an idea about something. About what whatever it is looks like. And the other person, our partner, parent, friend, relative, co-worker, teammate, neighbor, manager, service provider, teammate, has an idea too. Which is all well and good until we discover that our ideas don’t match up.

So.

What is your idea of fill-in-the-blank?

Now, go bounce your idea off of whomever it is about whatever it is. And invite them to do the same.

(Shout out to Dane Anthony for the brilliant question and equally brilliant practice.)

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Mox-Nix

When faced with two options, my sister often replies, “Mox Nix”. It comes from the German es macht nichts, and originated with American soldiers stationed in Germany after WWII. The gist of the term is that it really doesn’t matter, or it isn’t that important.

I’ve always loved the term, and how the words feel rolling off my tongue.

If 2020 has taught us anything, it is that there are things that matter, and things that don’t. We’ve also learned, or perhaps, remembered, how little is under our control, and we don’t like that. We’d rather have our hands firmly at the helm thank you, and when we can’t, we get scared, grab for control wherever we can get it, and pick battles that don’t matter with the people that do. .

We want what we want, and we want it now. But there is little joy in such victories, and while we may get what we want, rarely do we get what we need.

Mox Nix can help with that.

Is This The ______________ That I Want?

Tom and I had been married about eight years when he spent a couple of weeks teaching at a remote retreat center in the North Cascades, while I stayed home minding the fort. During those two weeks it became clear to me that there was no question that I wanted to be married to Tom. However, that wasn’t the real question. The real question was—Is the marriage we have the one that I want?

It wasn’t.

Those aren’t thoughts one can keep to oneself if one wants things to change.

After he returned we were out running errands one day, and stopped at a Starbucks. I can still see the table where we were sitting out on the sidewalk. I’m sure he was expecting just a nice catch-up visit, so when I quietly told him I wanted to talk about our marriage, a deer in the headlights about sums up his initial reaction. Thankfully, unlike a deer he didn’t disappear into the woods, but leaned forward, and leaned in. That conversation, over lattes, on a sidewalk outside of Starbucks is the conversation that changed the trajectory of our marriage.

Together we began to give voice to what was working, and what was not. We needed plenty of help along the way from therapists who could help us navigate all of the issues that could derail us if we let them. After 25 years together, we still hit brick walls and have to talk about scary things. On any given day, we work hard to bring the best of what we have to each other, with varying degrees of success, but always with the commitment of building the kind of relationship and life we want. Our conversation over coffee that started all those years ago is one that we will probably be having for the rest of our lives. At least it should be if we want to keep building the marriage we want.

The changes in our marriage all started with a hard question, as most hard changes do, and, it is a hard question that can help any of us get to the heart of any matter that matters to us.

Is this the…relationship, parenting approach, community, fitness level, body, friendship, career path, communication pattern, story emotional health, financial reality, team culture, family dynamic, belief system, outcome, home-life, fill-in-your-own-blank…that I want?

If the answer is yes, then we keep on keeping on.

If the answer is no, maybe today is the day to figure out what it is we do want and how to go about getting it.

Photo by James Wheeler from Pexels

This Not That

Some mornings we start our days with steel cut oats topped with fruit, almond milk, some nuts, and a little butter and brown sugar for good measure. Each ingredient adds to the whole, but can stand alone on its own. Even the butter. It’s delicious and we both love it. Tom however, chooses to ruin his by stirring it all up together into something I call “glop”. I love oatmeal. I hate glop. It is hard to distinguish one flavor from the other, and it’s not much to look at either.

Stick with me here, but a bowl of glop is a lot like how we can handle interpersonal challenges, especially in our long term relationships. We stir everything up together until it is almost impossible to tell one situation or issue from other ones.

Stirring everything together sounds something like this: You always… You never… This is just like when you… All the ingredients of the current issue get glopped together with a bunch of other ones, until every bite tastes the same, and it is nearly impossible to tell this from that.

Not stirring everything together sounds like this:This morning when you___ I felt… When you didn’t follow through on your commitment, this is how it impacted me. I want to talk to you about something that happened recently. Each issue or situation stands on its own.

Learning to take our issues one at a time and separate one from the other is one of the ways we grow up into the people we are meant to be (a lifelong process). It’s hard work. It means we have to take things as they come, deal with them as they come, and stay in the conversation about them. Some conversations are a one-and-done deal. Others come around again, and again, and again, each time an opportunity to show up more fully and with more personal accountability and ownership for our part of the bargain. And there is always a part of the bargain that is ours.

In my unhealthier moments, I can take a current issue, conflict, or challenging situation, and stir it up with a whole bunch of other ones from the past. Or take one thing and make it about everything. But as I choose to stop, sift through the emotions and particulars of the situation, I am learning to separate this from that, and bring this to the conversation, and leave that out.

Take it from me. It tastes really good.

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Equipped

We want to be equipped for whatever comes our way.

Sometimes we are.

Sometimes we aren’t.

Whenever we come to the edge of our capacity, we have the choice to retreat back into our safe arenas, or step out into the risky territory that spans the gap between who we are now and who we want to become. It is there, and only there, that we are challenged to show up more fully, and bring more of who we are to our relationships, conversations, and the world around us.

It isn’t easy and it’s scary as hell to risk new ways of being in the world, but it is the only way I know of to become more well equipped for the life I am here to live.

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Now & Then

That was then, this is now.

What worked last week doesn’t necessarily work this week.

What was true yesterday, may no longer be the reality today.

What support looked like earlier may look different now.

What we needed to hear in a previous stage may need a new message in the new one.

What shape love took in the past may no longer fit.

The only way to know if whatever it is is still working is to find out. Ask the question, have the conversation, be observant, and stay open.

Family

Sometimes there’s just nothing like family.

I’m spending a few days with one of our daughters and her family. Which turned out to mean that I have the chance to play with the grandboys, fold laundry, drink coffee, talk about life, and get ready for a birthday party on Saturday, complete with a homemade smash cake for the one year old to, well, smash his face into. Earlier this week, my brother drove a couple of hours to spend the day with us up at our cabin. Which turned out to mean that we had the chance to sit on the porch, drink coffee, talk about life, and of the cross country trip he and his wife will be making next month for their move into their new home. Which turned out to mean that we had the chance to talk about how sweet it is that they are moving closer to their son and his wife, and the bitterness of that sweet in moving away from lifelong friends and family. He had a little surgery yesterday to clean up a knee, and while his knee did fine, his heart acted up a bit and he had to stay overnight in the hospital. Which turned out to mean his son decided to change his travel plans at the last minute and fly into town for a couple of days. Which turned out to mean that my wonderful nephew showed up at my daughter’s house this afternoon. Which turned out to mean that over dinner those two cousins had the chance to reminisce about the weekly dinners they used to have together when they were both single and living in the same city. She would plan the menu, he’d show up with the groceries, and she would cook. Which turned out to mean that they learned their way around the kitchen together. Which turned out to mean that tonight, while she and her husband put little boys to bed, he  cleaned up the kitchen before heading out. Which turned out to mean that at the end of the day, sometimes there’s just nothing like family.