Tag Archives for Relationships

InkTober 2017: Day 20 – Deep

Isn’t it interesting that when we talk about feelings it’s with regards to how deep we feel them? Two phrases that immediately come to mind because they reference the depths within our bodies to which we may feel emotions – whether good or bad – are ‘from the bottom of my heart’ and ‘in the pit of my stomach’. Metaphysically or mystically there’s also the phrase ‘deep in my soul’ that’s meant to describe a depth that goes far beyond anything we feel within our bodies.

I’m not good at doing or feeling things superficially. When I do something, I put my all into it. When I feel as if I’m just going through the motions or I’m less than enthusiastic about any task before me I know that it’s not where my interest and passion are. Similarly, when I meet someone and spend a bit of time them, if I don’t feel excitement at the thought of speaking to them or seeing them in the future, I know my heart isn’t in it and it won’t be fair for me, or them, to deepen our involvement.

Where I believe our feelings should be when we’re in relationships is soaring about the clouds. I know many people believe it’s an unrealistic expectation to feel that way in every moment, but why should anyone settle for less. A relationship – actually any significant endeavour – is hard work, so why shouldn’t it generate the best possible feelings when you’re in it? I can’t see anything wrong with having that approach. Besides, isn’t that the way you’d like the person you’re involved with to feel about you?

 

InkTober 2017: Day 17 – Graceful

Women are expected to be graceful – Always. But that’s not a practical thing when you’re a human being, unless you’re a dancer; and even then you may stumble or make a misstep in a choreographed routine from time to time. Maybe that’s why I was a tomboy when I was younger until the end of my teen years. I must have had some internal guidance telling me that it was impossible to live up to the pretty ribbons my mother perpetually tied in my hair and the patterned dresses she zipped and buttoned me into that made it impossible for me to move as freely as I desired.

Being a girl became more challenging as I hit puberty. When my body started to change, in some ways it made playing the sports, which were mostly designated for boys, harder to play. Later, life still became more physically restrictive as I was told how to stand, what to wear, how to paint my face and style my hair, and sometimes how to speak, all in the service of putting my femininity on full display. Yet none of that made me feel graceful. Not the curves my body developed, not the clothes I wore, nor the mannerisms I adopted.

The only times I felt graceful was when I was doing something physical. Doing things that my now deceased grandmother never tired of reminding me were meant for boys: running outdoors, kicking a soccer ball, throwing a football in a perfect spiral, competing in gymnastics, skiing across open terrain or down hills, riding my bicycle, or even my least strong activity, swimming. Doing those things made me feel I had full autonomy over my body to test my strength, and push my physical limits. Unfortunately, my body no longer affords me the ability to do these things as I wish to.

So how does one exercise the gracefulness their body literally prevents them from being? In my case – and I suppose it might be the same for others living with a chronic illness – being graceful has become about how I face the daily challenges and large adversities that loom within all the unknowns to come. One can be the demanding “bull in the china shop” trying to force action from or answers out of doctors, who although they haven’t cured you yet, go above and beyond to figure out what is happening in and to the body they’ve chosen not to give up on and to which they continue to deliver care.

I can also work to preserve what was once plentiful in my physical movement, through mindful interactions within relationships with friends and family. The primary way I see doing this for myself is through acceptance. Accepting that the strength and agility I may be losing from within my body because of continuous pain is being replaced by something stronger, the love and care from those who remain close to me.

 

InkTober: Day 31 – Friend

“Show me your friends, and I’ll show you who you are.” – Unknown

I heard that phrase a lot while I was growing up. My paternal grandmother was an especially strong believer in that theory. She was often right about which of the kids we brought home to hang out would be the one to try to tempt us into trouble or be less observant when it came to following rules. As I got older, even when I professed to be my own person and an independent thinker who could choose my own friends, those words often floated up into my thoughts at times when I questioned whether I should keep someone in my life after witnessing troubling behaviours and attitudes. It became one of the many thought-provoking phrases to help me figure out what to do.

However, I haven’t always gotten it right. There were times when I suppressed that wisdom and let others convince me to act against my feelings. When I do that, I tend to find myself in situations that are less than desirable or outright harmful to me. Situations that range from being pushed to socialize with people who are so negative that talking to them is a physically draining experience; being at events with people whose favourite pastime is talking trash about whoever might be absent, while recognizing if I was absent I could be the topic of cruel conversation. I’ve even had to aggressively confront people who are so bigoted and intolerant that they comfortably verbalize negative stereotypes and make stomach turning generalizations about anyone not like them.

The most extreme situation I faced in recent years, involved a decade-long friendship. With this friend, I could no longer deny that he had a substance abuse problem and he wasn’t just a hard partyer. He came to my home to visit me shortly after I became ill to ask for some of my pain medications so he could get high. That situation did place me in direct harm and I got there because over the length of our friendship I repeatedly downplayed how incompatible the habits and vices of this person were with mine; and I wanted to believe that as long as he didn’t impose that part of his lifestyle on me we could continue being friends.

Unfortunately, I needed a jolt this shocking to remind me that it’s not realistic to have people whose views about the world are so drastically different from your own so involved in your life. I don’t mean that my friends always have to agree with me, but it’s hard to maintain a harmonious balance when you don’t share similar core values. Overall, I consider myself very fortunate, because when I think about my closest friends, I can see that I’ve chosen some incredible people to be in my life. The people in my life who are closest to me are loyal and trustworthy. They are supportive and tell me the truth instead of telling me what they think I want to hear, and we never have to hide our true feelings about anything from each other. They have empathy for others and always treat everyone with respect. Most importantly, we have meaningful connections, which I never worry might negatively affect my life

InkTober - Day 31 - Friend