Barnmaven

Hypothetical Advice

If you were to ask me for my advice, which you won't, I'm not sure I would give it to you.  I mean, I could, but since you probably aren't in a place where you can accept what I'm saying, it would probably not be helpful.  Instead I'm here having this conversation in my head with a hypothetical version of you.  Maybe I'm just having it with a hypothetical younger version of myself.

I remember being where you are.  Many times.  In it neck deep with a person who either wasn't as committed to me as I was to him or who loved me but whose modus operandi was to seek distraction from life's pressures by seeking the attention of other women.  (No, I'm not speaking of any one person in particular and even if you think I am, remember this is a hypothetical conversation, so those were just hypothetical men. Or women.  Or cats.  Or whatever. I could never trust my cats to be faithful.  They'll let anybody pet them.)

In those relationships my younger self tried to fix the problem by controlling the other person.  My younger self didn't understand yet that she was substituting the love and adoration of another person for true self-validation.  You see, I didn't believe I was worthy of love.  I didn't accept myself and my flaws.  Somewhere inside my brain I thought that if someone else just loved me enough that meant I was good enough to be loved, and problem solved!  Except that the problem was even farther away from being solved than ever because I was approaching it backwards.  I was making my own crazy and even worse, I was telling other people it was their fault I was unhappy because they didn't love me enough or they couldn't stay faithful to me.  If what I did to myself was wrong, what I did to other people in my life was downright cruel and heartless.

Eventually I had to learn to let go of the need for an illusion.  I had to learn real acceptance of myself, of my circumstances.  I had to take an inventory of myself and discover not only things that are awesome, but to take stock of the flaws in my personality that aren't so pretty.  

What I would tell my younger self now?  This:  That guy you can't trust?  Maybe he can change.  Maybe he can't.  But as long as you twist yourself into a pretzel trying to keep him in the emotional handcuffs you are creating I can guarantee that the only thing you will accomplish is to make both of you miserable.  I know that riding herd on someone to make sure they're not doing something you don't want them to do will make you both insane.  Don't you respect them enough to let them manage their own lives?  If you assume they're incompetent and can't be trusted to do things right without you checking to make sure they are, what does that say about YOU?  Why would you even want to be in a relationship with someone you can't respect and trust?  

Loving and caring about someone isn't enough to guarantee that a relationship will work or that it will last.  You can love someone with all your heart and soul and that relationship can end for many reasons.  Maybe its a bad fit.  Maybe the other person is struggling with their own problems or addictions or weaknesses that make it hard for them to be a good partner right now.  Maybe they will never get any better than they are right at this moment.  Maybe you will never get any better than you are right at this moment (you probably will).

We all want the happy ending.  We love the fairy tale.  We want with all our hearts to believe that love really does conquer all.  And I believe that it does, but not in the way that most people think.  Being alone, being lonely, can really suck sometimes.  I've had times I was so lonely I felt I would die from it.  But I didn't die.  All that time I wasted thinking other people were the solution to my problems, and I had to relearn the truth that the only solution to my problems was ME.  I could run away from them, I could try to solve them, I could try to drown them in alcohol or pills, but ultimately the only person who belonged in the cage match wrestling with my demons was myself.

There is nothing in this world that will protect us from being hurt.  We'll make bad choices and have to live with the consequences.  Other people will do things that we don't like or that are painful for us.  Things completely outside of our control will have an impact on us that hurts like hell.  I tell you this now, hypothetically, that the sooner you are at peace with these facts, the greater capability you will have within you for true happiness.

Once your ability to be happy doesn't depend on other people, you are free to live your life.  

Your problems will still be there, of course.  This person who is still hurting you might still be part of your life.  But you can let go of him.  Who knows?  Maybe he'll keep walking right along beside you.  Maybe he'll grow into a really great partner, maybe he'll have some success wrestling with his own demons.  Maybe he'll walk away.  Maybe you'll walk away because you find its the best way to help yourself.  I don't have those answers.  Not even hypothetically.

 

Oh Christmas.

Annnnnd just like that, it's Thanksgiving already.  My son and I were on our way to pick my daughter up on Friday night and would you believe it, there were a few houses already lit up with their Christmas yard displays?

Seven years ago, before I started working in an industry that ships about 50% of its annual sales in the last three months of the year, this was my favorite season.  Thanksgiving through New Year's Day, crisp, winter nights, bright lights, big meals, fabulous desserts, parties and lots and lots of lovely times with friends and family.  

Now its all selling our souls to get truckers when no one has any capacity and physical inventory planning and opening on extra days so we can get all the shipments out.  After I get done closing the books for the year (on the morning of the first of January, while all the rest of you lazy arses are sleeping off your hangovers) I will breathe a large sigh of relief and start gearing up for next year.

I still love Christmas, however.  Its long been my most favorite holiday.  Having kids was a wonderful way to keep the magic alive.  Even when I'm ragged and tired from doing all the Things That Require Doing, they make sure that Christmas is appropriately celebrated.  The day after Thanksgiving, while insane people are tearing each other to pieces over the last mismatched pair of cashmere gloves on the shelf at Macy's, I will be rousted out of bed by two gleeful creatures and I will not be allowed to rest until the house is completely transformed from our boring, slightly messy everyday habitat to ALL CHRISTMAS ALL THE TIME WITH ALL THE LIGHTS AND STUFF.

Ok, I am only trying to sound as if this makes me cranky.  In truth, the day we start Christmas-ing is hands down one of my favorite days of the year, other than Christmas itself.

A big part of what makes it so special is adding the newest decorations my kids' teachers have helped them lovingly craft to the 12 years of other equally lovingly crafted ornaments, wall hangings, drawings, paintings and holiday pottery they've given me.  There's the "Merry Christmas" banner Amazon Girl made in first grade, painted in red and green on part of an old pillowcase and strung onto a green wire hanger wrapped in ribbon.  There's the foam star lined with gold paint and bearing a smiling picture of Race Car Man as a toddler.  There are wood ornaments and cloth ornaments and even the wonderful ornaments my mother made from styrofoam balls, scraps of fancy cloth and gold and silver rick-rack.  Every year when the holidays end I faithfully store each piece, adding the newest treasures.  Opening up the boxes and unpacking everything sends my mind traipsing off into a melting pot of holiday memories.  Nostalgia is a funny thing, because no matter how much angst or family drama or financial difficulties past Christmases might have held, the memories that drift nearest for me to catch and relive are those of good conversations, wonderful dinners, smiles and laughter and times spent with people and pets I love, some of whom are no longer with me today.    

Once the inside of the house is Christmas-ified, its time to put up lights.  Of all the things I enjoy about Christmas, the lights are right up near the top of the list.  I've never done anything particularly fancy or special with our Christmas lights, but at the very least I feel that by putting them up I'm participating in some small way in lighting up the winter darkness.  

Once the lights are up, the house becomes a welcoming beacon each night as we make our way home in the dark from work and school.  It is our warm place, our safe place, the place we gratefully find respite from the cold.  It is the place where we gather around our table, give thanks and enjoy hot food and each others' company, where my children's laughter gives respite from the many months of chilly dark.   Christmas carols will be played on the piano, strummed on the guitar and sung in a cacophony of voices.  We'll sit down and watch Rudolph and Frosty and The Sound of Music for the eleventy-zillionth time.  We'll wrap presents and bake cookies and make hot cocoa with marshmallows.  Maybe it will even snow!  

The days until Christmas will pass - too quickly for me, agonizingly slow for the kids - and then it will be Christmas Eve, and while my kids pretend to sleep I will pretend to enjoy assembling toys with far too many small, complicated parts.  There will be nothing at all pretend Christmas morning about their joy in discovering their presents, or mine in watching them do so.  We will try, as always, not to let the commercialism of the holiday overwhelm our faith or undermine the spiritual meaning of the day.  Later we'll gather with family and when we hold hands to give thanks, the saying of that grace will feel more meaningful than on any other day of the year.

I find that if I condense all of the wonderful things I love about Christmas, it is possible to apply it like a balm to the stress of work and the worries of life.  It takes away the sting, eases the pressure, reminds me to leave the daily grind behind, to focus on what's good and bright and beautiful.  In glimmering red and gold, Christmas tells me that we're halfway through the darkness and soon there will be light.  It reminds me to see life through my childrens' eyes for a while -- there is plenty of time to be (or pretend to be) an adult.

Oh, Christmas.  I'm so glad you're almost here.