Category Archives: Character

Loved for who you are, or what you do?

My daughter in law went to a women’s retreat recently.  She was away four days, so I moved in to help.  I made sure four children got three square meals and two hearty snacks each day.  I transported from school, did mountains of laundry, tidied; generally busted myself to keep everything done-to cover all the bases.  Why? Because I wanted her to be missed for who she is; not for all the work that she gets done.

According to this perspective; the family misses her because they love her, not because they are missing a meal or a clean pair of socks.

I mentioned this at a gathering to which I accompanied the children.  There was a collective sigh, and a nod. Isn’t that what we all want?  To be loved for who we are, not just all the work we do?

 

Admittedly, what we get done is a part of who we are. I am a “doer.”  Getting things done is a big part of who I am.  I am dependable.  I DO what I say I will do. I follow through and get things done. But that is just one part of my personality. I long to be lovable, for others to find me gracious, understanding, nurturing.

We may like to be acknowledged for what we do, for what we have accomplished. But in the end; do we not all want to be loved for who we are?  When we are away, do we not want to be missed because we are loved;  not for all the things that did not get done in our absence?

What is your opinion? Do you want to be loved for who you are, not what you do?  Or, is what you do an integral part of who you are?

All my prayers get answered, all my dreams come true — for other people

I feel like all my prayers are being answered and all my dreams are   coming true–for other people.  And, it makes me smile. It is cause for happiness, celebration and joy. What a wonderful feeling to know these things are possible; that education, hard work, sacrifice and focus really do pay off.

The ancient prophecy of Joel promised, “I will restore to you the years the worm has eaten.”  I was jubilant recently, when I witnessed the relational and material successes of a close friend whom I know has slogged through tough times and emotional pain.

The fact that other folks have received things I desire, is not grounds to covet, envy, or resent. It is grounds for celebration.  At times, I am tempted to ask what I have done wrong. Why are all my dreams and longings being answered in the lives of other people, but not in mine?  Maybe so they can be a blessing to me.

Over the past 12 months, I have been privileged to spend numerous days in the homes of various relatives whom material success has smiled on.  Yes, faithful dependable work and sensible investment have paid off, and they are more than willing to share hospitably. Recently, I spent 36 hours of R and R at a cousin’s.  Retired, yet youthful; she and her husband have just used the first two years post retirement to design and build their dream home.  I could soak in her claw foot bathtub, or the hot tub; write in the impeccably decorated guest apartment; or drink in the open landscape forever, while waiting on my dreams and answers.

Yes, recently, I have noticed that all my prayers are being answered — all my dreams are coming true– for other people.  I aim to celebrate and enjoy all their successes to the limit while I wait patiently for mine.

Forget WWWWWH, What Next?

Who What When Where Why How – WWWWWH

These are the questions you are supposed to ask as a writer; from them, you get the complete story.  By referring to them, you craft an informative article. But, if you insist on asking them of the circumstances in your personal life, it will drive you crazy.

Q: Who is in the wrong?                                                          

A:  Will it do any good to know, even if you can prove it?

Q:  When did things start to go wrong?

A:  Does knowing make any difference?

Q:  Where did I go wrong?

A:  Can you fix it, or are you just beating yourself up?

Q:  How did it come to this?

A:  Will all the analysis in the world right things?

Q:  Why did this happen to me?

“Why,” is a particularly pesky question.  Most people start asking, “why?” at the tender age of three.

“Johnny, please put your socks in the laundry.”

“Why?”

“So mommy can wash them.”

“Why?”

So they will be clean and your feet won’t smell.”

“Why?”

I have ceased to wail and whine and to ask why.  It wastes far too much emotional energy with little result. I have recently noticed that asking, “how did it come to this?” is also ineffective. I cannot right my entire world simply by knowing how it got this way in the first place. For me, right now, the only valid question is, “what next?”  What is the next step? What am I to do next? I conclude this must be what is meant by taking one day at a time, seeking the will of a higher power, addressing and correcting mistakes as soon as possible.  So, I ask you, wherever you might be right now in your life, “What next?” Let us wait with hope and anticipation to see what is just around the corner.

Owning Alone

This morning as I was walking early to avoid the heat of the day, I had to stop and ask if I was mad at  me for being here. I miss the beach and the open sea. I miss seeing mountains and ocean all in the same frame. I miss long meditative walks through a safe quaint town, down by the ferry port and the train station. Yesterday, I got insufferably hot and miserable in the desert heat.  There is no one else to blame; but, is there any reason to beat myself up about this? Must there be any whining and blaming?

One of the unquestionable benefits of being alone, is that you alone own your stuff and can do what you want with it.  Without considering anyone else, you can buy the style of furniture you prefer, place the furniture where you want, decorate in the color you choose.

This benefit reaches far beyond the mere idea of owning material things.  When you are a single adult, you have both the permission and responsibility of making decisions.  There is no one else to blame, so you own the outcome of the decisions you make.

Sole proprietorship is a healthy place to be.  No bitterness toward others, no excuses, no manipulation, no blame shifting.  You make the decisions.  You live with them.

Back Story

In November of my eighth grade year, my family moved to Seattle-and I loved it.  The following July, we moved back to Grand Junction. Had I been given the choice, I would have stayed in Seattle.

In October of 2010, being completely alone and at liberty, I packed my Subaru and moved back to the Seattle area, settling in Edmonds. Spiritually, mentally, emotionally, physically; I was thriving there. I settled into a nice routine of commuting, writing, working and walking. My intent was to live there forever, traveling often for pleasure and to visit children and grandchildren.

Abruptly in June of 2011, my job ended.  I continued to walk and write and job hunt in the Seattle area, also keeping my eye on Colorado.

Job Opportunities

Jobs which caught my interest and showed the most promise seemed to be in areas of investing in the lives of others via education, nurture or organization. Once again, I followed up on Core Knowledge teaching tips, overseas opportunities, nanny vacancies in luxury towns, and personal assistant positions for the rich and famous.

And then it came, a job opportunity that fit like a glove; nurture, nature, organization, travel, homemaking, music, writing and performance-the artsy and the practical all wrapped up in one.

Though this is not the LOCATION I would prefer, I am yet aware of the great opportunity afforded me to invest in the lives of my grandchildren while I continue to facilitate the success of their parents,  to pursue music and media in yet another way, to travel, to be close enough to visit my two younger adult children on a regular basis; to have opportunity to write and be myself, to use the gifts and pursue the desires uniquely mine.

Time to seize the day and savor it for all it is worth.

Belated for Father’s Day

Young Dad;

Seriously clad;                                                         

Riding a bike with a baby.

Baby asleep;

State of art seat;

Lulled by the sunshine and motion.

Responsible fun;

Naptime done;

Goals accomplished through memory making.

(Happy Father’s Day, 2011, Cherry Odelberg)

Writing Women’s Fiction

If I am perfectly groomed; then you will love me.

If I do everything you ask; then you will love me.

If I am a nice enough person; then you will love me.

If I provide for you, because of all I’ve done for you; then you will love me.

If I take care of you, meet your every need; then you will love me.

If I sacrifice for you, lay aside my dreams and desires to help you meet your dreams; then you will love me.

If I do my job and your job too; then you will love me.

I love happily ever after endings.  A happy ending gives me hope. I too, might someday experience fulfillment.  But, the way to achieve that happy ending is not through living women’s fiction.  Living the women’s fictions written above will make you crazy.  That kind of fiction ends on the counselor’s couch, working through resentment, despair and depression.

The waves are only a metaphor

This morning, I decided to seize the sunshine, as it attempted to break through the clouds. I let it draw me to the beach where the tide was out further than I had ever seen it; after being higher than ever a mere 10 days ago.  The rocks were still wet and slippery, so I chose my path carefully.   Never-the less, as I hiked along the rocks from beach to beach; the closer I got to my goal, so nearer and more threatening came the waves, until 20 yards from safety, they were at a peak and I could no longer turn back. This, too, is a metaphor for my life. I have finished one job and am on the brink of another-by choice.  What will my future hold? Sandy beaches?  Slippery rocks?  More choices and decisions?

At one point this morning, I chose flat sand in place of slippery boulders.  I waited for the ebb and flow of lapping waves, knowing that a miscalculation on my part would soak me to the ankles – this in winter, and at the most distant point from home and hearth. I stepped, and stepped again, and did not slip nor did I get wet past the soles of my walking shoes. “I will go forward,” I said.  “I will make choices and calculations.  I will step into the water. I will reinvent myself.  If I do not like the result, I will dry my shoes and socks by the fire and begin again.”

With regard to sleeping alone

“I don’t like to sleep alone, sad to think some folks do,” So crooned, the singer. But today I write on behalf of sleeping alone. The best thing about sleeping alone is uninterrupted snoring.  When sleeping alone, I can snore all I want. No poke and prods, no shaking and waking; just sound, uninterrupted sleep.

Since snoring has such a bad reputation with roommates, campers, and close knit families, let me explain why this is important to me. For the majority of the years of my life, I have been a light sleeper. My mother even said so. I did not even allow her to play the piano or vacuum while I napped as an infant. As I made my way through childhood, every bump in the night, every creak and groan of the house was likely to wake me. I was constantly vigilant, even in sleep.  Never did I relax.  This trait came in handy when raising my own children. When they needed me, I was there in a whisper. When my daughter came along, I cultivated a skill of not only waking at a moment’s notice, but also falling back to sleep quickly.  I was many years into adulthood before I learned to sleep deep and long.  By that time, tissues, nose and throat membranes had aged, swollen, become vibrant.  Also by that time, through advertisement of remedies, snoring had moved from a natural result of sleep to an unwanted social fax pas to be remedied and cured. I am sure I possess faults that need to be addressed and corrected; but sleeping deep, care-less, and waking refreshed is not one of them.

Yes, the best thing about sleeping alone is uninterrupted snoring. The worst thing about sleeping alone will probably not receive voice from me in public pages.

Needs, Wants and Answered Prayers

It is important to have needs and wants; and to be able to identify them. How else will you know when your needs are met? How else will you know if you got what you wanted-or if a prayer was answered?

For too long I was timid and lazy about this. Rather than coming boldly to the throne of that Higher Power, rather then knocking on the door insistently, repeatedly, until my needs were met and prayers answered; I simply waited, timid and needy, saying to myself, “God knows what my needs are before I ask. My God will supply all my needs. I will know it is a true need, not just a frivolous selfish desire; when the need is met.”

Like everyone else, I have the basic need for food, shelter, and love. I want to be successful enough to feed, shelter, and love others with material provision, too. But it seems I get the cart before the horse a bit if I am straining to do these things for others, but I am still engaged in self-neglect, self-hate, and a homelessness of soul.

I want to take care of myself, to provide for my needs, and to have enough to share with others. I want to love myself grandly, so I can love others as I love myself. These are my identified needs, goals and prayers. I will know when they are answered.

Need, Want or Answered Prayer?

A Parable about major surgery and marriage

A dearly loved one was in a coma, and had lain that way for months, unresponsive to medical intervention and ministrations of close family members. After much consultation, the doctors said it appeared the immediate family had a choice to make: Leave the beloved on all invasive support systems, in which case death was inevitable, but might take an indefinite amount of time, maybe years. Or, detach life support systems and stand by and comfort as the loved one passed through the valley of the shadow. Both doctors called in for consultation freely attested they had seen occasional patients rally and live full lives after removal of life support. The next of kin saw a ray of hope in this possibility of miraculous recovery.

The next of kin nodded tearfully and said, “I see the plug has to be pulled.  I will stand by and comfort if this is the end, or I will stand firm and cheer while the beloved gains strength if this is a rally.” 

Then began other family members to bicker and to say, “What do you think you are doing?  This never works. Put the plug back in, the doctors do not know what they are talking about.”

The compassionate doctors, finding that another family member continued to slip in during the night and tamper with the equipment; and seeing that the next of kin did not have the strength to withstand the clamor of the ignorant; consulted once more with the immediate family.

“We are agreed,” the physicians said, “that the best and least invasive course of action is to pull the plug and to nurture the patient toward strength if that becomes possible.  We are also agreed that to simply leave the patient on complete support is sure death. We recommend, that you move the patient from ICU to a convalescent center. There is one other medical option, quite aggressive and the odds are 50-50. It involves major surgery.”

What think you that the next of kin will decide?  And if the next of kin opts for 50-50 surgery in the hope of saving the beloved and the beloved dies, what then will the other family members say? Will they not blame the next of kin for killing the beloved? And will not the next of kin be assaulted from time to time with deep depression and doubt?

And can the acceptance of blame or all the guilt in the world bring back the dead?

Hear me now; the beloved is my marriage. I am the next of kin who took responsibility to sign for major surgery. My marriage is dead. All the blame and guilt and acceptance of responsibility in the world cannot bring it back. Will I forgive and grieve and move forward into full health, or will I hold on to my shame and insist there is no solace, forever?