Respect

Ok before you all get snippy about regional differences, I realize that endearments like "Sweetie" or "Dear" are often used as a throw-away salutation. The cashier at the grocery store may toss it my way to connect in a mildly affectionate way. 

I'm not talking about that here. I'm talking about disrespect.

When I was a kid, one of my mother's friends called me "Dearie." I hated it. It felt demeaning. And dishonest; I wasn't dear to her, I was just her friend's kid. One of my Dad's friends called me "Girlie." Oh I hated that even more. He viewed me not as a person but as an object. I got the same kind of thing when I was unwell. Most of the staff were the best, but then there were the ones who raised their voices, spoke in simple words, and called me "Sweetheart" or "Dear." I was already unwell, and that made me feel worse. 

Ok so it may be a pet peeve of mine.

But that kind of language elevates one person and diminishes the other. As a kid I felt it acutely. As an adult I cut them more slack, but it all still made me feel somehow lower.

In this article "Nuns model skillful ways to speak to ill seniors" the caregivers avoid Elderspeak - a loud, slow, simple, patronizing and common form of baby talk for seniors. "They value a person in a sort of inherent way," so they don't talk down to them. Humour, patience, and kindness are better ways to communicate as equals. And the patients respond accordingly.

Respect and dignity need a level playing field. 

Blame

I did a quick reading for myself when someone I love blamed me for not doing what she thought I should.

ISSUE
Chaotic energy: a conflict or turf war, a family battle. It's is a her problem and not a me problem. She may want me to wade in, but I can choose not to.

BLOCK
I can not influence what she thinks or believes or feels. That belongs to her. I can have compassion, but I can not change her mind. That hurts.

ACTION
I will never have her approval. Let the truth of that sink in. It is time to accept the loss, release myself from the entanglement and spend my emotional energy on something more satisfying.

Simplicity

For many of us, our lives become more complicated as the years go on. We take up new responsibilities without discarding the old ones. We fill our homes with stuff we may have needed at one time, but don't any longer. In our efforts to make these complications more manageable, we build complicated routines around them to keep track. We complicate the complications.

Lately I've been simplifying a bit:

Possessions: How much energy is it taking me to store this? to dust this? to keep batteries in it? I'm never going to need the camping gear again, even if it survived decades in the basement. So, off it goes. The kids are all grown and gone. I loved the toys but I don't need them any more.

Ambitions: They all take vast amounts of energy. I'd rather spend my energy elsewhere. Perhaps one day this may change, but not today.

Time: If my appointment calendar is filling, I space things so I don't have to be "on" every day. I don't multitask any more. I say "no" with kindness and no thought that it needs to be anything else. I turn off phone notifications.

Accomplishment: My pastry may not be as good as Mom's but they all still eat my butter tarts.

Distractions: When some young thing asks me what my plans are for the weekend, I give her a satisfied smile and tell her "a warm bed, maybe a movie, and maybe chocolate. Or maybe I'll try out a new recipe."

Words: I don't need people to know what I think about something. If they want to know they can ask. Gossip is poison. Silence is golden.

Once I start to simplify, I feel better. Over time, the feeling of freedom it brings strengthens. It becomes more pleasant than the comfort of all the stuff I've been hanging onto. It's a bit like watching the water swirl down the drain after doing the dishes. Relief. Release. More room in my life for the 100 little joys of each day.

Lately I've been simplifying a bit. I wonder if it's an age thing?

Letting the Angels Lead the Way

I was out of town for a while when Tom was ill. It was an awful time, yet despite it all, things worked strangely well. When I forgot to stop and get Tom something from the drug store it turned out he didn't need it after all. One day when I felt overwhelmed, my daily reading promised something would fall into place. Against all logic, it did. After a sudden impulse to leave the hospital early, I found out that a water pipe had burst and I got back to my sister's place just in time.

It felt as though the Angels were conspiring to make things easier for me.

When I let them.

Common sense told me to rush for that train. But missing it put me exactly in the right place and time to make a connection I would otherwise have missed.

There's a sense of flow, and grace, and smoothness when I let the Angels lead the way. When I resist, the energy feels spiky and prickly and stressful.

The day after I rushed to squeeze onto that train, the trains had a huge delay. I found the humour in that as I waited on the platform. "That's karma," I thought, smiling, "for forcing things yesterday."

It was a tough time, but it gave me a lot that I needed. It showed me how little stuff I need around me to manage. I ran my business easily on my sisters kitchen table with just my computer, a tarot deck, pen and paper, and my her printer. I took exactly one change of clothes with me. With a couple of minor purchases, it was more than enough.

The change in location gave me even more. I was born in the city and wondered if I'd still feel comfortable living there. Yes, I felt right at home. Being with my sister was wonderful. We haven't spent that much time together since we were kids. There was a lot a laughter. She and my brother in law helped me think things through when it was hard to see my way ahead. They reminded me that the sky won't fall if I reach out and ask for help. She cooked for me.

I had to rethink my priorities. While there, it was rest, my work, and Tom. Everything else was optional. With fresh priorities came new boundaries. It felt weird at first to turn off notifications on the phone, but it was a relief. Many of my old habits will no doubt creep back now that we are home, but it gave me a needed reset.

It was crazy, but when I let the Angels lead the way, things worked strangely well.

Creativity

When I was a child, I thought creativity was about being an artist, or musician, or writer. I didn't show any talent in art class, so I thought creative people were someone other than me.

I was wrong.

Creativity is not just about producing artistic works, it is about making something new and unique. That's us. Each of us. We bring magic and newness to the world by our very existence. By seeing our lives as a creative adventure that we willingly undertake, we are that upswelling of newness, uniqueness and enthusiasm that is life itself.

Creativity doesn't compare ourselves with others or worry about what will people think. It's inventive, imaginative, original. It's not what we draw or compose or write, it's what we are made of. We don't have to be Picasso. We can be ourselves.

Purple Button

Here I am walking the forest trail. Instead of enjoying the amazing energy of the woods, I'm letting thoughts of a local politician dominate again, when the point was to let them go. I don't want him in my home, why would I let him in my head? I'd rather spend my energy on more pleasant things. Like the forest trail.

I stopped where I was in the trees, and asked, "Why am I still giving this guy so much of my energy? What button does he push in me?" I was thinking maybe boundaries, or bullying, or misogyny. I paused and enjoyed the forest, waiting to see if anything came to mind. It was a beautiful morning. The sun was just coming up. The geese were moving from their ponds to nearby grain fields.

An inner imp said, "The purple one." It struck me so funny.

Hidden Rules

Bridge, the card game, has hidden rules. When my roommate and I went off to play bridge with her partner and his friend, my game partner got annoyed with me for not knowing the unspoken rules. I didn't know there were any. Apparently, you don't just follow the rules of the game, you play a certain way to let your partner know what's happening in your hand.

It's not just bridge. Hidden rules are everywhere.

I have always been terrible at cryptic crosswords. Then I came across a social media account where someone has been explaining the unspoken tips and tricks. No wonder I couldn't do them. It's like you have to belong to a special club or use a secret handshake.

The thing about hidden rules is that they are hidden. You can't know there are any until you find about about them. (Then, they are not hidden any more.)

When my sister went to university, she got her second major after she was given some tips about course selection and grades. This affected her whole career. These tips were not in the rule book. She had no idea they were allowed.

Hidden rules are everywhere.

Kids with ASD who stick to the written rules for guidance can really miss the unspoken rules of conversation and socializing. Elevator etiquette, social distancing, and conversation flow can be daunting when you don't know the rules.

In the workplace, hidden rules tell you how much time you need to spend in the office, what you wear and how you conduct yourself - stuff that's not in the office manual.

Some hidden rules are hidden out of innocence, like language barriers and cognitive barriers. Some are hidden by assumption. In grandma's old cookbook she couldn't imagine a reality where someone didn't know how to make shortcrust pastry or de-bone a fish. Some are hidden deliberately by those who want to elevate themselves by lowering someone else.

I felt foolish and confused at the bridge game. Until I got angry. How could I possibly have known?

Hidden rules are everywhere. Ok then. But it's not ok to expect everyone to know them. They are hidden after all.