Slow Down Mama!

Something very cool happened to me the other day, and I wanted to write it down someplace so I don’t forget it.  Then I realized, oh yeah, I have a blog now lol.  And this story even fits the subject….  I was getting my day started and being oh so busy as usual.  It bugs me to have my hair down when I am trying to be really productive, so I was looking for a hair tie or clip.  I took one look in a place I thought I had left some, but I didn’t see any there.  So my thinking went something like this: “Oh jeez, really?  Well I don’t have time to slow down and go hunting for hair things.  I am just going to keep working.”  Sure enough, that set me up for getting into one of those places where I was starting to feel frantic and like, “Oh my god I am never going to get all this packing done and all this food cooked andandand”.  So I took a deep breath and thought to myself, “OK, this isn’t helping, let’s get back to a focus of what is right in front of me and choose ONE thing to work on RIGHT NOW.” So I decided to start unloading the dishwasher and try to think about JUST that.  It is mindfulness technique I have used in the past, and I really like it.  If I am having an especially anxious day, I will literally take it to the level of saying to myself, “Now I am putting this fork away, now I am putting this plate away,” etc.  I guess this time all I needed was a small shift, because the moment I bent over slightly and reached out to open the dishwasher, a hair tie literally fell on to the back of my hand!  I was like, “Um, OK, thanks universe.  Lock this into memory!”   

That is all for now.  SO many posts rattling around in my head but feel like I am down to the wire with packing.  Hopefully I will get at least one more done before heading to CA.  in more mundane news, Ron got approved for an apartment near his new job, so that is one thing settled.  We plan to leave for CA with a Uhaul trailer on February 28.  This is really happening folks!

Purging

Have had a post percolating around in my brain for the last several days, so I thought I should make space for an update.  Dad seems OK over the phone but is saying he knows he needs somebody with him.  Won't be long before we are there.  Busy times at my current house.  Packing, packing, packing.  And trying to cook ALL THE THINGS in my freezer.  And try to be at peace with the resulting chaos that happens when I am not tidying up everything else (see photo lol). And reducing.  Ah, getting rid of stuff – it is not easy for this Cancer who tends to put emotional attachments on things, and I have never been pushed to purge this deeply before.  In my past moves, I haven’t had to worry about space and just packed until I was done.  Now I am putting most of my life into a 10 x 15 box, so the process has begun of deciding what to let go of.  One of those things is going to be my desk.  I haven’t cleaned it out in quite some time - I tend to just pack up what is in the cubbies and leave the drawers as they are.  Not this time….

I have gone through this stuff at some point in the past and obviously decided to keep what I still have, but this time felt really different.  It isn’t just because I am trying to crunch space.  I was also shocked to find out how much stuff I plain old don’t have emotional attachments to anymore and fascinated by how that lack represented a tangible example of the paradigm shift I have been undergoing ever since discovering Unconditional Parenting and unschooling. So many of my old papers were nothing more than a bunch of academic back patting or evidence of making the popularity cut.  Now that I see so much of what happens in public schools as damaging for children, much of this stuff feels more like an embarrassment than a keepsake.

Some examples:

Program for the Pre-Prom Fashion Show – Really?  So glad I was deemed pretty enough and popular enough to participate. Ugh.

Newspaper clipping naming me as one of the high scorers on the PSAT – Great, I learned how to cram for a test with an exact set of parameters, and more importantly, I was recognized for it and my mom had something to show our extended family.

Program from the Ephebian Ceremony – This one is my favorite because I had to actually apply for it but could have cared less.  It was just supposed to look good on college applications and hey, it gets your picture in the newspaper.  More stuff for my mom to frame.  And it might as well be the teacher version of a popularity contest.

Why am I being so hard on that ex overachiever that was me?  I do have empathy for the old me.  She was just doing what she was raised to do in our society that seems hell bent on raising Praise Junkies.  I am just glad I am not that person anymore.  Most people go through their lives never thinking much about how manipulative common parenting practices and most schools are, but savvy businesses have been realizing for some time how problematic this type of mindset is.  In my life, I am thankful for the many parenting educators, bloggers and authors of books who have opened my mind to seeing things a different way.

But shouldn’t I cherish these things as part of my memories and be proud of my achievements?  Many things in my life have been forgotten while those memories are still there, so I don’t think they are in much danger, and if they have to leave at some point (like what I am watching happen to my father) to make way for keeping other things, I would rather remember how it felt to run barefoot through the forest in Yosemite and be tumbled in the Carpinteria waves while bodysurfing, or the first steps of my children and the first hug with my husband.  And as far as “achievements” go, I am reminded of something Krishnamurti said:

In this example, I see school as the sick society, so my “good grades” feel pretty meaningless to me at this point.  I was very good at figuring out how teachers test, what they were looking for and how to memorize lots of material over short times.  I rarely had any true interest in the subjects or remembered much afterwards.  There were exceptions for me, mainly in literature and science, but for the most part, I became a master crammer.  Don’t get me wrong, I am not down on education, and I think there are great teachers out there who really care about their students as well as some innovative schools trying out new things, but for the most part, I feel the public school system, at least in the US, has inherent flaws.  Grading systems, mandatory testing, reward programs, poor student to teacher ratios and dividing children into same age classrooms only scratch the surface of some of the issues I see as problematic. 

But this isn’t an essay about what I think is wrong with schools.  I am writing this post to process how much I have changed, how much I have let go of the expectation to be measured, the drive to do well on some standardized scale and the desire to be recognized for it.  I am sure there is plenty of that stuff still internalized in me.  My ego is alive and well lol, but these days I am trying to keep my focus on doing things I truly enjoy and following my interests where they will lead.  I certainly don’t want to be measured for it or be compared to how well somebody else is doing the same things.  And if somebody happens to notice something I do and appreciate it, that’s awesome, but I don’t want that to be the reason I make choices in my life. 

I love the ideas of thinking about what brings you joy and what supports your higher self when going through clutter.   I thought this quotation captured a good part of the process:

I would rephrase this saying with “hands and head”.  Might not flow as well, but both are true.  Clutter can be mental as well as physical.  I hope to be always changing and looking for ways to walk more in alignment with my higher self, learning from the past and reaching for the future.  So, to rephrase my vision with positive language instead of “don’t”s…

I want to do what brings me joy for no other reason.

I want to follow my joy without caring if I am doing it “right” or even “well” by somebody else’s standards.

I want to follow my joy without caring if I am doing it better than anybody else.

I want to follow my joy not caring if anybody notices.

I was actually thinking about these things not long ago as I took my first art lesson, wondering if I would ever share my art with the world, wondering if I would care if it got criticized, wondering if I would hope it spoke to people.  I think I would be happy to know people related to it, but at the same time, I don’t want to *try* to be relatable.  I think the moment one steps away from any of the above “wants” is the moment one begins to deviate from authentic artistic expression.  And I think this can be applied to just about anything.

Life is art.  I want to create mine as authentically as possible.  This is what getting rid of clutter has taught me today. 

Choices and Decisions

I have a whole list of subjects I want to delve into, but for now, I am feeling like I want to write out some of the “bones” of my story, for my own recollection later, if nothing else, and for anybody who might start following my story and be interested.

My mom died about 5 ½  years ago, and my dad hasn’t been the same since.  He still cries several times a day when he thinks about her, and his memory, vision and self care have all gone steadily downhill, as I wrote about in the previous post.  Last year, during a visit to help him prepare for cataract surgery, I decided it was time to bring up the question of what he wants to do when the time comes he can’t live on his own anymore.  Unfortunately, he only had one situation that was acceptable to him, and it is the one that doesn’t really work for anybody else.  The only thing my dad wanted was to live in the house he shared with my mother until he dies, but he didn’t want a stranger coming in to care for him either.  There are several people he would agree to live with, but nobody wanted to disrupt their entire life to move in with my dad, and nobody was close enough to offer daily care when it got to that point.  He refused to even consider a second choice, although I offered him several. 

Fast forward to my recent visit, and it was clear some decisions were going to have to be made, whether my dad was willing to be the one making them or not. The loss of his license was the final blow for me in knowing he shouldn’t live alone as he seems confused about how to use the transportation options available to him, and then a large portion of his cash disappeared after a couple shopping trips.  As much as I didn’t want to admit it, the time had come for a change. He was still really clear on his moment to moment decisions, when I could get him to focus on a topic, and he was still just as adamant about not leaving his house, so what to do?

My husband and I had many, many long conversations.  We turned over all sorts of options, and the plan has shifted and changed even in the last couple weeks. As of this moment, the plan is for our whole family to drive to California at the end of February with a trailer full of essentials.  Then my husband will fly back to Oregon and start looking for a small apartment close to his new job.  He will finish up with our current house, taking what will fit to his new place and putting the rest in storage.  This move will be the most complicated one I have ever undertaken as I am packing things right now to go to 3 different places!   Then I get to start doing the same at my dad’s house, going through hutches and buffets and such to see what I want to keep or ask my siblings about or sell.  My mom was an antique dealer and has volumes of glassware, china and other collectibles, so it is going to be a monumental job.  My husband is hoping to come to CA as often as possible and even work there remotely part time if it is feasible. 

My ultimate goal is to talk my dad into coming back to Oregon with us.  It isn’t going to be easy, but I think it is a better choice than Assisted Living.  I just hate that I am probably going to end up being the one to make the choice for him.  I have gotten the advice from his doctor and some friends not to give him a choice, but that is so against my nature.  One of my main focuses as a parent is to give my kids as much choice in their lives as possible, and isn’t this supposed to be like having another child?  I guess it is different with Alzheimer’s or if somebody just won’t make a choice, but it is still really distasteful. 

I know this is only the beginning of all the decisions I am going to need to make, and I have always been terrible at decisions.  I tell people all the time, “I am horrible at decision making, but give me a plan, and I will execute the hell out it.”  I am more of a manifestor, so I am way out of my comfort zone.  Which things do I keep?  Will I regret it if I don’t keep certain things?  How do I handle finances around cohabitating?  Is my dad at the point I should set up my conservatorship?  Do I try to give my dad a choice about where he wants to live?  Ack, that is a decision about a decision!  My head may explode.   So this experience should be hard but also an opportunity for personal growth.  Trying to focus on the positive!

My hesitancy about my dad coming to Portland is that he is used to the Southern California climate, and he spends a fair amount of time outside, but I have to think being with family trumps anything else, and his doctor agreed with that.  Also, at one point when we were talking about when I was going to be leaving, he said, “Take me with you!”  He said in a joking tone, but he said it.  In my head I thought, “OK, once is enough!  He did actually consider it!”  He has NEVER even remotely considered the idea of Assisted Living.  He didn’t even like going to the Senior Center because he said people were cliquey, so I think he would have a really hard time adjusting to a bunch of strangers. 

Well, that is most of the story so far, for today.  I know things could change at any moment if something happens to my dad.  My adult daughter is staying with him this week, and my sister-in -law plans to drive out to him twice a week to check for store run needs and such, but I worry about the times he will be alone.  Taking things a day at a time. 

Just about every piece of advice I have read or gotten says not to uproot your family to take care of a parent, but I think we will be OK.  Our kids are not in school, and they have many friends they connect with virtually.  My husband and I both have family in the area and my husband’s boss seems really flexible.  I am a stay at home mom, so I have the time to devote to this.  All I know is that it would break my heart to see what my dad would go through if I tried to make him move in any rushed way.  So this is my compromise.  Make gradual changes.  Plant seeds.  Keep my goal in my vision.  And try to not look like the picture below too often. 

Acting From Love Instead of Fear or The Moment this Blog was Born

I recently got hot home from an extended visit to my dad’s house.  About a year ago, I thought it was already time for him to start thinking about not living alone.  His vision was poor and his memory was going, but overall he was doing OK.  Well, things can change a lot in a year when you are living alone in your 80s I guess - I found a whole different situation this visit.  His house was filthy, his clothes were stained, he had lost his memory of many significant people in our family, and most concerning, he was not taking his meds correctly based on the huge overage of pills left in his bottles.  He was also about to lose his license and his car, which I knew was going to be a huge blow to his independence.

So what was supposed to be a week long visit turned into almost a month.  I decided to stay past the day he was going to lose his license because I knew he was going to need the support. It was not the fun type of visit we usually have when we go to California.  I cooked, I cleaned, I made house repairs and phone calls to doctors and lawyers and financial institutions, and I worked on coming to grips with the reality that my dad can’t live alone anymore and what that is going to mean for him, for me and for my family.  I am still processing it.  That is the whole point of this blog, but today, I want to write about the moment this blog was birthed in my head.

 My parents were pretty average folks and mainstream parents.  I didn’t get beaten, I was well supported in my interests, but I did get grounded, and they were experts at manipulation.  Even when I became an adult, their favorite threat was possibly taking me out of their will if I was doing something that displeased them enough.  I have tried to follow a very different path with my young children, focusing on connection and collaboration, without any punishments or rewards.  I am not always perfect, partially because I carry the echoes of my childhood with me, but my goal is to care for the small humans in my life in ways that promote love over fear, abundance over scarcity and authenticity over "fitting in". 

Punishments and manipulations don’t produce children who act out of love.  They create children who act out of fear.  Whether they are afraid of the actual consequence or the withdrawal of love and approval, it is still all fear.  Sometimes the smallest thing will remind me of where I used to be and just how far I have come.

The house my dad lives in now was purchased back around 1995, so that is a long to feel settled into a place.  I have stayed  there off and on while visiting and even lived there for a brief time after coming back to CA after an out of state move. My mom was a nagger, no other way to put it.  If the house was messy in the morning, I would hear about it, several times.  If I unplugged a lamp to plug my laptop in and forgot to put it back, the world might come to an end. 

One night during my recent visit, as I was readying the house for my daughter and I to go to bed, I was tidying up, leaving certain lights on, making sure the right things were plugged into the right outlets so the right switches turn things on, etc., and it hit me….  I am doing this out of love.  Love for the man who fathered me and has supported me all my life.  Love for the man who has poor vision and is grasping on to his familiar surroundings as one of the only things he has left.  But 10 years ago, maybe even 5, I went through this same routine out of fear.  I mean I wasn’t really *afraid*, but it was the child in me, fearing the disapproval of my parents, going through those motions.   

My mom left this plane in 2008, and my dad has become much more lax about such things, but I know he prefers as little change in his life as possible.  Maybe I needed this period to not have the worry in my head?  I am not sure why I noticed the shift this visit   Maybe it was the enormity of what I was taking on.  Maybe it was the huge personal growth I experienced recently while working on my relationship with my husband and my gratitude practice.  In truth, all of these things played their part.  I am all about seeing the “ands” in life – one of my favorite topics - so you will see it pop up here soon probably. 

All I know is that in that moment, I was acting from a place of love.  I believe that most of the things we experience as negative are somehow tied to fear.  Sometimes it takes a bit of pondering to figure it out, but it is always there - under anger, under shame, under jealousy – fear we are screwing up as parents and that is why our kid is acting a certain way, fear of being hurt, fear we are not worthy, fear of loneliness, I could go on and on. 

This time in my life is going to challenge me to choose love.  I have already gotten snappy with my daughter when she is asking me for something over and over when I am in the middle of trying to help my dad with something.  In that moment, I was annoyed.  What was my fear around it?  I had to sit with this one for a few minutes.  Fear that she has poor manners and will never learn any.  Fear that she is selfish and it is my fault, fear that I am never going to have any time for myself, fear that I can’t handle all the demands that are going to be placed on me.  Wow, that’s a lot of fear. 

I want to remember what a gift this time will actually be as all these things that come up can be used as tools for self-reflection.  Really, we have that opportunity every moment of every day, but some moments it is harder to choose love.  I just have to remember to keep breathing and start thinking before speaking.  Not the default of this extroverted, talkative person.  Wish me luck! 

What's In a Name?

I am entering a new phase in my life, often called the sandwich generation.  For anybody who has not heard the term, it refers to people who are caring for both children and elders, and the resulting sense of squishitude that goes along with that life choice.  I have also recently found a passion for writing, which happened as a result of a gratitude practice I undertook in November.  I never really “got” journaling in the past.  I have always been a “verbal processor” and tend to figure things out as I am talking to somebody, but it wasn’t until recently I had that same experience with writing.    So now, as I face what will most likely be the most stressful time in my life to date, I am being drawn to process it with the written word.

Blog names are important to me, and this one took a lot of thinking.  Enough that I decided it deserved its own post!  I wanted something that related to sandwiches but could still work when I am past this place in my life.  It was a bit of a challenge since I am an avid follower of the paleo diet and don’t even eat sandwiches lol.  (Yes, there are paleo breads you can make, but I am a bit “why bother” about them when there are so many other good things to eat!)  I considered going with a play on wraps instead but realized that would be esoteric at best, so I kept plugging away in my brain until I hit on something I am sortof obsessed with right now… mayo!

Mayo is sortof a staple for me.  From chicken salad to deviled eggs to chipotle dip, there is a good chance I am going to use mayo at least once a day.  I am completely in love with Trader Joe’s mayo, but I am also trying to get canola oil out of my diet, which leads to a whole nother aspect of the obsession:  working on the perfect homemade recipe.  But that is another post for another time. 

Just loving mayo is not the whole meaning of the name for me however. There is the sandwich connection of course, but what this name also conveys for me is a sense of abundance, which is how I strive to see the world.  We are also an unschooling family. (If you are interested, you can read about it here: http://www.naturalchild.org/guest/pam_sorooshian.html) Unschooling can look very different for different families, but the concept of living in abundance versus fear and scarcity is a popular one among unschoolers.  So when I picture myself being sandwiched, the idea of asking for MORE is really powerful.  Give me more in my life, give me more of something I love.  When there is a problem, how can it be solved by adding something instead of taking something away?  Usually that means adding love.  That is pretty much my life philosophy in a nutshell.  Or should that be in a jar?  J

Maybe I could have called my blog Pass the Love…  Hmm, I really like that too!  But I decided to stick with Pass the Mayo because I am pretty much a food and nutrition geek as well.  My daughter has all sorts of food allergies and chronic gut issues we haven’t figured out, so researching and making special foods, and using food as medicine, is a big part of my life.

So to wrap it up (haha, I got my wrap in there after all!)  The things I will write about most frequently will be dealing with becoming a caregiver for my dad, gratitude, unschooling and food.  There you have it!  I’m gonna have my sandwich and eat it too!