What's Your Love Story?

That special day is coming soon; the one that either means so much or so little to so many! It’s that time of year when we all reflect on our very own love stories. For some, it is sweet and others – sour. No matter what, most people have a good love story of some type. Mine is more humorous than romantic. That seems to be fitting for my life though. That’s why I included this old black and white carnival photo.

I’m fortunate to say I have a love that’s lasted over 30 years now. My story starts in the early 1980’s, back before social media and dating websites. You really had to go out of your way to have a social life back then. Sometimes it wasn’t all that easy, depending on your finances and ability to go places. I think many of us were paving the way for what would become the norm. Let me explain.

My story begins in a remote part of NY, at a college where I knew no one. I was thrown into a suite of best friends, of which I had nothing in common with. Their last friend didn’t return to school and that left the room available. I knew immediately I would have to figure out how to meet like-minded people. Just meeting folks in class wasn’t enough and the bar scene wasn’t much fun without a best friend.

I thought about things and decided to post flyers around campus, offering my services to paint jackets for Deadheads. In case you don’t already know, a Deadhead was a serious Grateful Dead fan. The kind that just couldn’t go to enough concerts or hear too much of their music. That’s the only kind that would pay to have their jean jacket painted! Plus, to be honest, I would have to admit that I hoped I might meet a cute, available Deadhead to travel to shows with. I actually had a “list” of dating criteria and that was one of my “must haves.” Every woman had a list, right?

So, I created an eye-catching flyer and hoped I would meet some cool people. Now remember, this is before Craigslist, Facebook and dating websites. Within a day or so I had my first client. My roommate was eager to tell me about some gorgeous guy that came looking for me while I was at class. He left his number and we met up later. He was pretty darn handsome, but I knew immediately we would only be friends. There was just something I couldn’t explain. That’s how they all seemed. I was creating art, making money and meeting people though, and that was the plan. I met females too, but none that would become a best friend. Life was going to be different. I really had grown up a lot over the summer.

Interestingly enough, that first gorgeous guy and I became good friends. We spent a lot of time together and it was a few weeks later that we shared a hug goodbye. I swear to god, there was electricity! It was a moment frozen in time. He would tell you the same. Before that moment, I wasn’t exactly what he was looking for in a girlfriend and we were fine with being friends. He didn’t meet enough of my list “must haves.” He didn’t even play guitar! That hug changed it all. Suddenly, it didn’t matter.

We went from being just friends to living together by Christmas. I never felt so strongly about anyone in my life. I had been dating since I was 15 and thought I had a “true love” in high school. This was intensely different.  We both found out we were crazy in love with each other, but were opposites in so many ways that learning to accept this as a positive would take work. Hard work! We grew up a lot together in the past 30 years. We’ve never had things come easy, but I think that’s what has made our love so strong. Being opposites has made us strong as steel. He has taught me about realism and I showed him a thing or two about the power of dreams. Here’s to hoping we have another 30 or more years to our love story! I hope you can take the time to contemplate your special love story – more than once a year.

 

Welcoming Uncertainty

You can’t always get what you want, but sometimes you get what you need. Jagger was right. No arguing that. We often are so sure about what we want and then disappointed when we don’t get it. At a later point in life, we are often surprised to realize that we actually got something else we really needed. We just didn’t know it at the time. Has that happened to you? Was it better than what you wanted in the first place? Did you learn something valuable in the process?

Maybe it was your first love; the one that was surely supposed to be your future spouse. Or perhaps your first college roommate. Was it the first time you left home to live on your own? It could even be something that seemed really negative, like falling and breaking a bone. Or something super positive, like experiencing childbirth. No matter what, we can learn a lot when things don’t go as expected.

One thing I’ve learned is to trust that things will work out as they’re meant to. You do what you can to influence the process and hope to see that desired outcome, but the truth is – anything can happen. You might as well be ready for a change of plans because chances are, things will be a bit different than expected.

How can we practice this thinking on a smaller scale or a daily basis? What can you do to help yourself accept uncertainty and change? Can you become more comfortable with this subject so that it causes you less stress? I hope so!

Today I am making bread. I love making bread! You don’t need many ingredients and they don’t cost much. It doesn’t take a lot thought, just some time and the outcome is always tasty. All kinds of factors can influence how your bread comes out: changing flours, how warm the house is, the amount of time it rises, how well it’s kneaded and even humidity! No matter how hard you try, no two loaves will come out exactly the same. So, don’t worry about it! They will always look a little different.  I’m ok with that now and I can honestly say the folks who eat my bread, never complain that it doesn’t look perfect.

I can now admit that it’s actually kind of exciting – not knowing how things will turn out. My suggestion for you? Just find some enjoyment in the process and know that in the end, it will be ok.

 

 

 

Blowin' In The Wind

Another birthday will arrive next month. I’m amazed at how quickly the years have passed. It seems I was just a child the other day and then a teenager, trying to figure out who I was. Then came the college years, finding love and trying to figure out who I was. Then parenthood and the “adult work world” and trying to figure out who I was.

Now my children are grown, that work world surprisingly changed after almost two decades. I’ve been granted many experiences I wouldn’t ever had chosen. I’ve felt sadness I never thought was possible and joy that cannot be described honorably. I’ve moved on with my life at points when there seemed no direction, no way out. I’ve learned things I never knew mattered and they’ve changed my life in huge ways, making me realize just how small a particle I am in this big dust ball called life.

It’s been amazing to grow up during this period of technological advances. I’m old enough to say I grew up with a black and white television, with just a few channels and a radio in the house. Yet, now I contemplate writing this blog on a computer that could reach an endless amount of readers; people I don’t even know. A cell phone sits near me. Communication is everywhere. It’s a struggle to escape it and find solitude when needed.

So, why write a blog? Why not? Do all questions need to be answered? I don’t think so. Not anymore. It seems as though the biggest lesson I am being taught is: be here now, in this moment. Nothing else really matters. You can’t change what’s already happened and you can’t control what’s going to happen – no matter how strongly you think you can. Trust me, I’ve put that one to the test since I was a child and been proven wrong a zillion times. Even if you think you controlled the outcome of something, you are in for a surprise later when life teaches you that you were just a small part of that picture.

So, here I am - now. I’m going to write a blog because it feels “right.” I’m experiencing so much every day that seems to open doors and turn-on lights, that I’m compelled to write about it. Maybe others will enjoy reading about my experiences. Maybe not. I’m not concerned with that because I’m not going to do this to feed my ego. I feel a sensory over-load lately and I think this might be a good way to let some stuff escape. Join me if you wish. I think it’s going to be a fun ride.

 So, where to begin….I am the youngest of five children and the only girl. My parents were old when they had me – elderly (I thought as a child)! My mother was 43 and my father was 51. My oldest brother is seventeen years older than me and even the youngest oldest brother is eight years older. In a way, I was an only child. I had older brothers blaring Led Zeppelin from the funny smoke-filled basement get-away and a mother born during the depression who loved the “big band era.” I got to see a lot of extremes.

I feel like they started when I was eight and my father was diagnosed with cancer. Within a year he was gone. That’s when the extreme experiences began. It’s been a hell of a ride since then and like I said, it’s gone by like a plastic bag on a windy day – whoosh! Blowin' in the wind...