Don’t Doubt Your Plan

Yesterday, I had a second level ultrasound done to detect possible chromosomal abnormalities in my unborn child.  There were some indications of such in an earlier ultrasound, and any parent, hearing this would be at wit’s end on how to wrap their head around such information.  As for me, I was told 13 years earlier by a psychic that I would have a little girl.  I scoffed at her, as my first husband had already had a vasectomy, but life does it’s thing and throws you a fastball once in a while.  Thankfully so, because my new husband appears to be quite fertile; which leads us to fulfilling the crazy psychic’s prediction from a decade earlier.

Not that I have placed all of my faith in what one woman said over a deck of cards long ago, but my faith also includes the belief that we have already planned the major details of our lives, long before we entered a human body.  This includes pacts and agreements with others, who also take human form, to help us learn the lessons that we’ve chosen to learn in this particular life.  It’s kind of like picking out your courses for the next semester of college;  you know the general subject that you’re taking, but you’re not given the exact lessons until you are enrolled in the class.

Well apparently, one of my lessons is to learn to live in the later years of my life.  This is one of my most pertinent ones, for most people are able to look back at their twenties, smile, and remember the freedom they had when they thought that they would never die.  Yet learning to live at an older age is quite the different type of lesson, for mortality is lurking in the shadows, and every day our bodies age and challenge us to be our best in the present moment.

My plan to truly live my life at an older age includes the birth of a child; and with it the responsibility of caring for an innocent being that can benefit from my extra years on this earth.  I understand now that this is part of my life plan, so whatever the Universe throws at me at the Doctor’s office, I know deep down inside that I was the one who created it exactly as it is, in order to get yet another course under my belt.  I am not doubting my plan in the least.

Surprise at 45 – Middle Aged Motherhood

It’s really strange how some people can live their lives according to the book, and others just wing it.  I have never been one to consistently write down my goals in some journal that I carry around.  Rather, they’re scratched out on the backs of already used index cards, or the back of this year’s address book, which I’m likely to lose before the year’s end.  But my goals, they get accomplished, somehow.  My goals don’t seem to be like those of others’, though.  They are more esoteric, more abstract, than saving for a BMW or paying off my house.

My goals are to live my life outside of the standard order of things.  As I said in my post, Guilt Free Non-Conformity, I really haven’t followed society’s timeline of events for a normal life.  My life really started later than most, at the birth of my first son when I was 32.  That’s when my beauty started to bloom, and I realized that I was a unique human being that didn’t think like others did.  That’s when I started recognizing the people that chose to be sheep rather than leaders, and that’s when I chose to be a leader by example.

So now, at 46, I find myself living totally outside of the box yet again.  My second child is due, completely unexpected and most certainly welcome nonetheless, in May 2012.  My plans for retirement are coming along fine, but it’s not the type of retirement that most people are planning, when they are too old to enjoy themselves.  Of course, on a humorous note, much of my retirement will be spent at Little League games, cheering on my son/daughter as he or she runs the bases.  Graduation for this little angel will be in 2030 (OMG!!!) and hopefully there will be great strides in the field of plastic surgery by that time so that I don’t look so much like Grandma while I sit in the audience of proud parents.  And of course, with a younger husband, I will still be called a cougar until the day I die, even when he’s 80 and I’m 89.  (If you would like to read about my pregnancy, you can visit my sister blog at Surprise at 45)

There are days that I feel the guilt of being non-conformist–mixed in with morning sickness it’s not an easy cocktail.  I know that there are friends who judge me for it, and have backed off because they just can’t relate.  To them, I say that I can think of no other way for me to live.  As I believe in multiple lives, I can say that this one, because of my choices to take the path less taken in many instances, is the best life yet.

Guilt Free Non-Conformity–Doing Not as your Parents Did

It’s easy to follow the norm.  By norm, I am referring to following the preset description of how one’s life should be lived; or in other words, the way your parents did it.  Grow up, go to college, get a job, find someone to marry, have a few kids, and work for a while until you are old enough–or rich enough–to retire.  But what if you don’t feel at home in that skin?  What if your goals don’t include marriage, kids or retirement?  What if you decided to switch the order around, or you didn’t spend the suggested amount of time on any one segment of your life, jumping past one right into the other?  What would your parents, or friends, or authority, say about you because they may think you’re making a cosmic boo-boo by  not following the pre-defined pattern of our Western culture?

 

Well, that’s my life, and as of recently, it seems like whatever pattern I was supposed to follow just fell down the rabbit hole along with myself and those I love. I, for one, incurred the doubt of many of my older friends who cautioned me to slow down, to take it easy, to see where things go and be on my guard.  But, for once, my head, my heart and my gut all agree, telling my common sense to take a back seat and just watch for a while. I find myself being myself, with no odd moments of trying to be someone different, or trying to mold myself to be something someone else wants me to be.  I could just be me, and be accepted for who I am–good and not so good–in my own, self-defined skin.  And to those who cautioned me that I was going too fast, I take your heed, and I blatantly ignore your warnings.  Everything seems to be working for us without the need to follow the same timeline that you, and your parents, did.

To Filter or Not to Filter Your Discussions

So here I am in a conundrum.

A lot of things have happened in the last few months.  My home life has changed dramatically, and I have learned more about myself and listening to my gut feeling this year than in the previous 44 before.  Since there are a lot of lessons to be learned from my experiences, I would love to write about the feelings I encountered during the process.  But the Internet, she hides my words from no one.  And I was concerned that people who are already hurt will read my words and hurt even more.

But family and friends, they chided me, with wrinkled brows and stern faces.  “You can’t filter your feelings.  Say what you have to say,” they said.  Not one of my friends thought that the world would benefit from a censored perspective of my experiences, simply for the sake of sparing the feelings of one.

So from here on in, it’s coming as it really happened.  And to those whose feelings may be bruised, I’m sorry in advance.

Being a Guilt Free Conspicuous Consumer

I like stuff.

I like to buy things; shiny, intricate things, primitive art, and eclectic welded oddities painted bright colors. I stock up on books, and audiotapes, and sometimes shoes.

But aphorisms abound about how we should detach ourselves from the material, and realize that real joy comes from the heart, not the diamond heart necklace you just picked up on eBay. I feel that both can be true at the same time, and that in order to live a guilt free life you must come to terms with the fact that it’s OK to love both the material and the ethereal stuff at the same time. For the acquisition of certain stuff can mark a milestone in one’s life that lasts as a pleasant reminder of a great experience. And you can carry that stuff from one location to another as you progress along your life path, and it serves as portable roots, in a way.

And if you lose your stuff, or it’s stolen, or it breaks, you may feel a sort of mourning much as if a person had departed from your life. Is it bad to miss something that has been a faithful companion for many years? I don’t think that mourning a lost item is reason for feeling guilt. With that said, healing must occur eventually, or you may need some help letting go.

If you work, and you pay your bills, and you donate as much as you possibly can to recipients that you care deeply about, you save for emergencies and prepare for income for your later years, then why not buy some stuff? Why not create some memorable roots that accompany you through the best and the worst days of your life?

Here’s to stuff.

The Difference between Blame and Responsibility

People like me are perfectionists;  and when we make a decision about something, and it doesn’t come out well, we perfectionists like to beat ourselves up about what we did wrong.  I am one to take responsibility for my actions, sometimes to the point of virtual self-flagellation.  Because perfectionists believe that we should have headed these bad decisions off at the turn, before we went careening off the cliff of despair into no man’s land.  We should have had enough intelligence to analyze both sides of the situation, create pro-and-con lists, extrapolate the consequences of each decision and visualize the outcome to our benefit.

Yet other obligations get in the way, and usually there’s not enough time to complete a full analysis of our decision before making one. So when it goes wrong, our minds come back to our lack of research and preparation for the decision.

So how do you react to your bad decision? There are two paths you can take: responsibility for the decision, or self blame for its outcome. It’s your choice, and I’m sure that you have taken both roads at one time or another.

Blaming yourself for not preparing properly incites that crippling, hand-wringing guilt that serves no one. Most likely you will replay the situation over in your mind, glaring at yourself for your stupidity every time you catch yourself in a mirror.

On the other hand, taking responsibility for your decision–no matter its outcome–does serve you. It reminds you that you are human, that you made the best decision that you could make in the time frame you were given. It allows you to cache the experience in your memory for next time, and sets precedent for future decisions. This is the healthier path every time.

Think of this: when you make a good decision, do you take responsibility for that? Many may say that it was luck, or providence, or coincidence. But in truth, it was just you, and you can give yourself a mental pat on the back. You don’t replay it in your mind over and over as you do after a decision with a negative outcome (if there really are any negative outcomes, since all actions can be viewed as lessons). You revel in it; you may even smile.

Let’s try taking responsibility, rather than self blame, for each decision and its consequences, no matter whether the outcome is perceived as good or bad. This is the way to a guilt free life.

Looking When We Should Be Looking Away

Why Do We Crave to Know More About Others’ Misfortunes?

The other day I was enduring the endless wait in solitary confinement at an Urgent Care Facility. Despite the nurse saying that the Doctor would be “right in,” I had been eyeing that shiny red Biohazard bucket since she’d shut the door on her way out. The bucket with its triangular arrow-shaped sign was the brightest thing in the room.  It could be empty, or it could be full. Maybe it contained body parts that had been chopped off by shrub trimmers, or foreskin, or crusted over scabs from a dog bite…or maybe it just contained soiled Q-Tips and bloody bandages from a fall on the cement. Either way, it was the fact that someone’s misfortune had contributed to its contents that consumed me.

This is the reason that drivel like reality shows, and soap operas and Jerry Springer can consistently bring in the bucks and the audience. Because people want to see others suffering more than they are. If Ashley slept with her mother’s boyfriend, and a mother-daughter catfight ensues, then for those few moments between commercials we can forget that we have problems of our own. And reveling in someone else’s problems, with its disconnection from our own reality, provides us with an escape if just for a few minutes.

I held back from peeking into the Biohazard bin, because someday, something of mine could be in there. And I would want dignity and respect to prevail over the torrid curiosity of others who would revel in my misfortune.

Learning Not to be Offended by Others’ Habits

The increasing popularity of electronic cigarettes led me to read more about the safety benefits of using them vs traditional tobacco cigarettes.  In a statement last January, Dr. Jonathan Winickoff of Harvard Medical School called the Crown7 “a thousand times safer than cigarettes.”  You can see the article here: ‘Just like the real thing’: Businesses push ‘e-cigarettes’.  My topic here isn’t whether e-cigarettes are or are not safer than tobacco, but rather how people judge those who smoke at all.

Reading the comments left on the site after the article, the page was laden with forked-tongue remarks about how weak and pathetic smokers are.  These people have decided that if you smoke, you have decided to purposely disgrace humanity with your presence in the form of second-hand smoke and tar-stained hands.  You were created to offend others simply by your habit.  Where is the compassion for those who may be struggling with a habit that’s tougher to kick than heroin?

Again, my argument here is not whether second-hand smoke is dangerous (although several recent studies have claimed that the dangers are not as real as once thought), but rather why people must feel offended at the choices of another.  Of course, smokers–along with drinkers, and those who shove down three cheeseburgers at McDonalds, and those who crack their knuckles, and those who drink wine and get behind the wheel of their car, or those that slip out an expletive now and then, or those caught by surprise by public flatulence–should keep their habits to themselves.

How many of us does that leave, then, with no habits that may offend someone?

And why are people looking so hard to be offended?  Is it because they want to elevate their own self-worth by attempting to diminish another’s?  Are we projecting here?

Simply put, if one is content with oneself, then there is no need to be offended by another’s behaviour–ever.

Choose Death and You Distribute Guilt

Recently an acquaintance chose to end her own life.  She had tried for many years to do so, and her family scrambled each time she disappeared to find her before she succeeded.  This time they failed to locate her in time, and she ended her own life locked in a hotel room.  Whether it was depression or mental illness I don’t know, and it really doesn’t matter.  What does matter is that her death affected everyone who knew her in some way.  For her family members, of course it was devastating.  To others more distant, there must be an odd curiosity as to how, or why it happened, and speculation as to what she encountered or felt during the act.

I am not here to judge; living a guilt-free life means that one can choose one’s own death if she chooses that option.  But if you’re in this same situation, please heed my words:

Guilt travels.

What I mean here is that leaving this life may seem like an escape to you, but consider what you will be leaving behind.  Of course you will leave grieving family members, but also you will leave them with unanswered questions that could never be answered in a suicide note.  You will leave guilt, my friend.  Guilt that lingers in your family members, your friends, and others you may not even know you’re affecting.  They may replay the events of the past in their heads:  Why didn’t I get her some help?  Why didn’t I lock her in a room until we could get assistance?  Why didn’t I ensure that she had someone to talk to, no matter the cost?

Now an adult knows that no one can really stop one who wants to end her life if she really wants to end it, but that, my friend, doesn’t stop the guilty emotions from surfacing in the ones you leave behind.  And if you want to leave this world to inflict guilt on others, know this:

You’re going to come back with the same lessons you have to learn in this life…and you’re going to have to face them again.  So you may as well face them now.

So, if dear friend, you are considering the act of suicide, please seek help from someone…anyone…for you are not alone, and you never were.  And send guilt –not your spirit–where it belongs–out of this world.

What’s Your Daily Guilt Scale?

Are you perfect?  If so, you can stop reading now because you and I have nothing in common.

If you’re like the rest of us, then you probably go through your day feeling bouts of both goodness and guilt.  You may look in the mirror in the early morning, give yourself a wink of self-approval, and yet at lunch you catch a glimpse of yourself  in the bathroom mirror and you feel like an inner tube in a blouse.  Goodness can be replaced with guilt in a matter of minutes based on the decisions we make.  If you are like me,  then you may decide to skip the gym because you almost fell asleep while driving home.  Or perhaps you are staring at an empty bottle of wine when you planned on having only one glass.  Or a cigarette came out of nowhere and lit itself up in front of you.

When such things happen to me, the guilt takes over and I could spiral down quickly into misery–because instead of following the straight and narrow of a freak of nature that traipses the path laid out by perfect vegan yogis, nuns and healthy triathlete doctors and have no history of risky behavior, there’s me.  I admit–even to myself–that I 0ccasionally stumble off the path, trampling the posies and stepping on  fuzzy bunnies in my failure to follow the directions of those who want me to live to be 117 so that I can buy their products.

And although I am a proponent of a guilt-free life, I experience a sense of guilt every day; yet I have remodeled my guilty inclinations into a useful scale to moderate my behavior.  My scale is represented by numbers from 1 through 10, with 1 being the absolutely most guilt-ridden and miserable a person could be, and 10 being the happiest bliss-infused rainbow-riding earth spirit that lights up the room she enters.

Now I start my morning with a rating of 10 if I’ve gotten enough sleep and I remember my wrinkle lotion.
If I eat relatively healthy food and avoid inhaling an entire pizza, my Guilt Scale stays on the high side, although other factors such as being rude to a colleague, not carrying my load at work, or flipping someone off in traffic can drag the scale down as the  day goes by. If I go to the gym rather than crapping out, the scale remains steady, because by doing so, I have contributed to my own health and happiness by my own doing.  No one forces me to go, and if I decide one day that I just don’t feel like exercising, and mentally I am OK with that, then it’s not necessary for me to reduce the guilt scale.

The whole premise behind the Guilt Scale is that we are in charge of our own lives.  We make decisions about how to treat ourselves and others, and we can use the Guilt Scale to self-assess our behavior and how we feel about who we are right now.  If we progress through our day and loosely rate the feelings and emotions related to our actions, we can reflect on whether or not we are living according to our values.  And if we live according to our values, then we show integrity.

Please let me know if this is helpful to you.

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