Pearly Gates Principle

Having grown up in a small, rural, and French Catholic community, I now realize that there were many contradictions which influenced the shaping of my thinking.

Without getting into the nitty-gritty details of why I’m so messed up (I’ll leave that to my therapist to sort out and potentially a novel one day), there were many competing cultural and religious philosophies.  I realize that these attitudes and contradictions are found everywhere; however, in a small isolated area, they seem more concentrated and perhaps more extreme.  Without the dilution by other ideals and cultures, the philosophies actually can become unspoken ‘laws’ in many people’s minds. (eg. Does it matter which language is my core language? Am I a bad person for not marrying into the same culture?  Is going to weekly mass imperative? (Let alone a French one!))

At some point in my life, I had to reconcile these contradictions and learn how to cope with the seemingly incompatible values (Love thy neighbor…as long as they’re Catholic!).  I created my own “Pearly Gates Principle” to guide me. 

This Principle is simply:  “When I get to the pearly gates, will this matter?”  At the end of my life, is the issue that I’m grappling with going to truly matter? 

Being able to bring the issue back to a simple Yes or No answer has helped me be less conflicted and more compassionate towards those who may not have the same perspective I have…because they too have their childhood influences to grapple with.

Recalibration

It’s unfortunate that it often takes an extreme life event to bring things back into perspective.  Only then do we hit ‘reset’ to recalibrate our view on what is really important.

My recalibration occurred a decade and a half ago when I went through my divorce.  It wasn’t a hard divorce in terms of the physical and finance split: we both agreed to keep the breakup fair and conflict-free.  What was hard, however, just sorting through the debris of our lives to understand what went so wrong.

Looking at myself in the mirror was very difficult.  Of course I took my fair share of the blame…if not more.  The hurt of knowing that I, as a somewhat intelligent 25-year old (when I married), could make such unwise decisions.  What hurt the most, however, was the pain we both went through to come out the other side better human beings.

Resurrecting out of that fog, I distinctly remember thinking that nothing could possibly be more painful (other than the death of a family member).  Yet I knew that close to 50% of the adults in North American did or would go through this experience.  How could that be???

My new criteria for measuring the criticality and impact of my pedestrian life’s events became:  “If no one is dying or starving, it can’t be that bad.”  I used this in business as I do in my own personal life. 

Life and living became much more important than the potential worry and stress of most events that filled my days.

I do, however, have to remind myself of this once in a while.

The Three-Act Life

I recently saw an interview with Jane Fonda which really caught my attention.

Jane Fonda, a 72 year old fitness icon, described how, at the peek of her career, she was suffering deeply from low self-esteem. How could this be??

Jane described her philosophy on life (I paraphrase here):  The first thirty years are the Growth Act; the next 30 years are the Building Act, and the third or last phase is the Becoming Whole Act.  The third act, which brings with it the cumulative wisdom of the first two acts, is the best of all.  You are not looking for validation, affirmation or success.

How did she get to the third act in tact?  Jane’s approach, when she was 59, was to do a Life Review.  In this Review, she researched the aspects of her life which were difficult or unresolved in order to fill in some blanks.  She interviewed those who influenced her greatly (ideally parents, siblings, childhood friends, …) in her life so that she could better connect the dots of her ‘play’.

She finally understood why her mother committed suicide when she was 12, why her father was a narcissist, why she had no intimacy in her three marriages, and finally, why, despite all her fame and fortune, she sold her mind and body to whomever offered her love.  Knowing now that she had never been able to love herself first has enabled her to fill in the puzzle pieces of her life.

It was only in her third act that she became whole.  No more need to please others in order to feel complete.  The love she needs comes from within.

I don’t plan on waiting until the end of my second act to begin my Life Review….primarily because I want the benefit of having my parents’ input on some of it.  

Out come the notepad and recorder…

'Stuff'

Anyone who knows me well will remember my rants a few years ago when my sister and I undertook my parents’ ‘downsizing’.  My parents moved from a large home in the country to a much smaller condo in town.  The move meant reducing 50+ years of accumulated ‘stuff’ down to about 20% of the original amount.

Don’t get me wrong…my parents still have a very sizable stash of belongings.  That we had to reduce by 80% is only indication of how much they had to be rid off to fit into what most people would think very adequate.

Now, extrapolating to the not too distant future, this 20% will again have to be further culled another 80%.  What will be left is roughly what would fit into a 500 sq ft apartment, which doesn’t have a kitchen.

How depressing!  Not only because I am already preparing myself for a ‘goundhog day’ experience (finding boxes, rummage sales, and generally clearing out a whole house which isn’t my own!), but in general, the thought that we work our whole lives to accumulate ‘stuff’, just to then turn around and get rid of it.

What a cycle!  I suppose if we were too efficient in recycling or finding those who really needed ‘stuff’, our economy might be in jeopardy.

Next Phase

My mother hasn’t been sleeping.  She admits this is from a combination of my father’s snoring and her worry.  She knows that the current situation isn’t sustainable, but is unable to see past next week.

My father’s mental state is worsening, as is expected with someone with Alzheimer’s.  His mobility is limited and, in fact, lessening quickly as occurs with diabetes. 

All this is overwhelming for a 78-year-old woman whose experience is limited to the goings on of a farm and its household. To have to proactively plan and decide the future for her husband and herself is more than she can bear…hence the headaches.

In my usual ‘bull in a china shop’ way, I asked my mother very directly what the options in this town might be for potential ‘next phase’ living.  There are few:  there is independent living in a lodge and assisted living in a nursing home.  Nothing in-between.

My approach must be non-emotional or else I risk doing as everyone else has done:  nothing.  I make appointments, get on waitlists, and hope that whatever happens occurs in a manner that doesn’t require any real choices.  The variables are 1) the progression of illnesses, 2) my parents’ openness to change, and 3) time.  All these variables will determine ‘the next phase’.

For now, I’m hoping that having a few potential options will alleviate my mother’s headaches and some of my guilt.  I definitely have the better end of this deal.

Going Home

As with many of us ‘middle agers’, our aging parents’ wellbeing and care becomes a bigger part of our lives.  In my newfound unemployed state, I do hope to spend more time with and for my parents.  I am currently with my parents back in my hometown in northern Alberta.

Going home to visit my parents is always an introspective experience. 

Where I grew up will always be ‘home’, even though I’ve been away for 29 years.  The connotations of ‘childhood home’, whether this is the town or house, mean that I’m going back in time and age.

Parents are always parents, but mine haven’t quite figured out that, at 46 years of age, I don’t need parenting anymore.  Advice is always free flowing and concerns voiced.  I wonder if there will ever be a time when I will be thought to be capable.

Going home always stirs up a mixture of anticipation, nostalgia, and sadness.  Anticipation because, after the long trek, I’m looking forward to seeing my parents to confirm if, what they say over the phone, is really how things are.  Nostalgia because this is where the memories of the first 17 years of my life remain.  Sadness because, although not discussed, my aging parents are living the last of their years as independently as possible before they progress to that ‘next phase’.  We never discuss this ‘next phase’ because to do so means acknowledging that we’ve actually thought of it.

My father was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s two years ago.  The diagnosis, however, was only confirmation of what I knew 8 years before, when the first signs appeared.  I’ll never forget those first times when I witnessed my father’s always-so-sharp mind’s deception. 

My mother, who was always the less healthy of the two, is now the full time mother again.  Always the doting wife, she is now caregiver, chauffeur, cook, and everything else.  She rarely complains, but her exhaustion is obvious.

Leaving is difficult.  The guilt of abandoning my mother with such responsibility is overwhelming.  Driving away, back to my easy, uncomplicated and seemingly selfish life is nearly unbearable. 

Oddly enough, my parents are happy.  They have worked hard their whole lives, so for them, their current challenges are relatively small.

Perhaps I would have the same perspective…  Perhaps….not likely.

What Colour Are Your Glasses?

So much of how we feel is based on how we perceive and receive signals.  And conversely, how we interpret signals depends on how we feel.  If the filter through which we’re seeing is tinted, either by anger, insecurities, or other  in-the-moment feelings, we likely aren’t interpreting those signals accurately.  Unless we explicitly ask questions that will help us see more clearly, we will internalize our feelings…incorrectly.

I’ve been reading a lot about ‘mindfulness’.  This refers to, in this moment, scanning my body, breathing, and mindset, to understand how I’m feeling…which will ultimately determine how I interpret information.  Although I’m doing this ‘on the fly’ (i.e. Not laying down on the yoga mat all day to figure myself out), I’m finding that this actually does help to slow down reactions and anxieties overall.

Being mindful means ‘being present in the moment’.  I must admit, I thought I was quite mindful…until recently. I’ve noticed that, unless I take the time to do the full-body-scan exercise, I’m really only scanning from the neck up.  This tells me about what I’m thinking, not how I’m feeling.  

Glasses provide protection from flying articles…but they also allow us to see things more clearly.  The tint we apply is ultimately our choice.

OK.. enough of this deep thinking stuff for today!!  :)