Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

At my diabetes class last night, the facilitator was encouraging people in the group to ask questions and speak up.  And there were people really comfortable doing so, but not me.  I am shy, and I must have not felt safe in the group (after all, they are strangers), and my mind went blank.  All I could think of was that I'd rather have a one on one conversation with a facilitator, and I promised myself I would make an appointment, which I will do today. 

What comes to mind is all the times I was the new kid in the school, class or group, because my family moved a few times in my childhood.  I don't immediately trust people, because I had some mean girl cliche stuff go on when I was a kid.  And also because I am leery of being someone's new instant best friend.  That scenario has not worked well in the past for me.  The other person is projecting something onto me, without knowing at all who I am.  I'm very uncomfortable with stranger effusiveness.

This center does have support groups, and I will ask about one of those when I do the one on one, but last night I was feeling exposed, and retreated at the break to looking at my IPhone.  I admit it.  I disengaged purposefully, and that is generally what I do when I don't feel safe.  I can't entirely overcome my history, but at least I recognize when it plays a part in the present moment.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Last night the dogs and I watched a movie and ate popcorn while my husband was at his chorus rehearsal.  I get to pick whatever I want and somehow I chose an older movie with Robert Redford and Brad Pitt called "Spy Game".  It's about choices and regrets, and how Redford's character gets to make up for something he did to his protege Pitt.  He's ready to risk it all on the eve of retirement to put things right and save his friend's life.  But what impressed me again, as with the recent films "Truth" and "A Walk in the Woods" is how honestly Redford is aging.  Every crease and wrinkle and sag is there for all to see.  He may dye his hair for some rolls, but he has not resorted to surgery.  Thus, he shows the weathering of a life lived outdoors, and the turbulence of marriages, children, friends and work.  It's as if he's saying this is what almost eighty looks like, but I'm still intelligent, have a sense of humor, and am so damn interesting I know you'd love to have dinner with me and chat.

My friend and I almost managed the later a few years ago, when we were eating out at a small hotel restaurant next to a river in a wine country town.  Our table was at the street window and my friend saw Redford first, getting out of an SUV with his wife.  They were wisked away to a back table, but my friend "went to the restroom" to get a better look, and sure enough, it was him.  We were discreet, as was everyone else in the place, but it made him seem more real, like someone you might know and like. 

He was such a gorgeous man, beautiful really, that I appreciate the statement he makes letting his face tell his story.  He's still doing some terrific acting, because he has his mobility of features and the wear and tear of life proudly worn.  As I age, I'm grateful to those who do so along with me, gracefully and without falsity.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My weight loss buddy is not going today.  She can't get herself to write down what she eats and weigh in.  Hopefully, she will be back on track next week.  Seeing how hard it is for her validates that this is a difficult journey for all of us.  It scares me a little as well, because what if I end up on my own trying to lose the weight.

Now, I just got interrupted by a phone call and my buddy is picking me up after all to go weigh in.  What does this tell me?  That our talking a few minutes honestly with each other paid off in terms of her allowing herself to feel discouraged and weigh in even if the news won't be the best.  Right speech?  I think she and I did it!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Last night I had a pleasant evening with an older friend who, in my experience, can be difficult and pushy.  But she was great this time, and no nosey questions or prying.  I have a pattern with her:  when she gets rude and pushy, I don't return her calls for a few months.  When next we connect, she is the self I enjoy, and we can be amiable old friends.  This time, I wonder if a recent trauma on her part occasioned this relaxation.  She has a lifelong friend, with whom she went to many concerts, plays and events, who suddenly became sick and within a week was dead, without being able to say goodbye to family or friends.  It was quite a shock, and perhaps she's taken stock of her behavior and is also looking for new companions for her adventures.

I don't say this cynically.  This is how we humans operate.  We take people and things for granted, then a surprising event occurs, and we "wake up".  I don't feel superior in any way to her.  I see her clearly, and handle our relationship in a way that makes me feel my boundaries are being upheld and the pleasure in her company outweighs her sometimes foraging into private territory of mine.  It's a dance.  We both know the rules, and if my feet get stepped on too many times, I sit out for a while.  But I'm usually willing to pop back up and try another tune.  Everything changes.  You don't write someone off unless they are genuinely harmful.  And this person means well.  Somewhere along the line boundaries were not part of her learning curve.  That's okay.  I can make sure mine are in place.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I went with my daughter shopping for plants.  She wants to cheer up their backyard before she has a baby shower for her friend.  I realized after what a treat it was to look at all the plants and select some.  The day is sunny and it felt so springlike.  At the nursery there was a little boy and his father who were hunting for Easter eggs.  The child had quite a few in his basket already.  Then when we returned home, a tiny girl and her mother were drawing in chalk on our driveway.  Lots of little new things are out and about.  Between talking about the friend's coming baby and baby names she's considering, the little boy with the basket and the little girl with the chalk, the whole world seems fresh and new right now.  Talking about growing things and people is nurturing.  I feel uplifted.

Right speech is most grounded in the ordinary, little events in our lives.  Our joy is usually found there and our connection to others.  Talking about primroses and begonias and hydrangeas is recognizing the beauty found easily in the world, simple and true.  And praising a boy's eggs and a girl's drawings is the best right speech I can imagine.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Ah, my friend who usually gets mad at me is back in contact.  She wonders about a walk.  I've got excuses to not plan anything until week after next.  That gives me time to figure out if there is a way to stay on friendly terms, but keep my distance.  I'm going to bump into her in my neighborhood and I don't want to avoid her.  But I've decided the time for honest talking and transparency is over.  Why?  Because she projects some idea of me and renders the real me invisible. 

My problem is I felt enough of this kind of impulsive anger within my own family as a child.  It seemed to come out of left field, and nothing I ever did mitigated it.  Volatility is too familiar.  Maybe too comfortable.  But being amused and above it all is really lying to myself.  This is toxic behavior and there is no wholesome reason to be around it.  My friend and I are not a good match.  I have the deepest empathy for her suffering, but do not want to be dragged in as a witness.

She asks my advice, but what she wants is some kind of approval for her anger.  I feel I understand where her anger is coming from but cannot name it for her.  It would not be appropriate.  So that leaves us at an impass.  So I'm slowing mourning the unviability of a relationship.  But I'm alone with this knowledge.  Not a comfortable place to be, but the truth. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My foster granddaughter and I had a good afternoon together yesterday.  We went to the usual suspects:  pet store, toy store, candy store, ice cream place. comic book store.  Everywhere we went I noticed she was poised and articulate asking questions; fearless compared to me.  She was focused and relentless with the comic book guy.  She knew what she wanted, and when that wasn't available, she had him show her a bunch of other possibilities.  I loved seeing her so assertive.

She used to be so shy, and the transformation is delightful.  She has a polite manner and easy way about her, and people respond really well to her.  Ten years of seeing her change, grow in intellect and personality, has been a gift.  My grandchildren I don't see as regularly as her, and so I miss the subtlety of the separation and independence, but with my foster granddaughter I'm a witness every step of the way.  I'm lucky!