“Could you run down to my class and get the students settled while I grab a few things,” my coworker Katie asked this morning?

Katie teaches an elective in philosophy, she’s a dynamic instructor, and the students love her.

Since I’m free this block I jump at the opportunity, “I’m on it.”

I take a seat in the front of the class on a rickety stool and since I have no idea what they are studying I ask the students to tell me what they are currently working on aside from updating their Instagram. Still holding onto their phones they rush to tell me of Plato’s tent and that which chains us from reality. Ironic!

I’m intrigued, “tell me more.”

I asked them to teach me what they have learned about Plato’s tent and this is what they shared.

Their teacher actually rented a real tent from the Sports Basement in the Pruneyard Shopping Center and set it up in a way for them to not only experience the concept Plato’s cave but to enter into it.

Brilliant.

In this myth, there are men who have been chained in a cave (she represents this cave with the rented tent) throughout their entire lives. The only thing they can see is a the cave’s wall. They have never been able to exit the cave. They also have never been able to turn around and see the origin of the chains which bind them.

However, behind them there is a wall and a little farther still there is a bonfire. Between the wall and the bonfire there are men who carry objects (I’m wondering what kind of objects but do not want to stop them mid story). Thanks to the bonfire, the shadows of the objects are projected onto the wall. Thus, the chained men can view them.

Does this remind anyone else of the man-caves currently popular in our modern day homes?

Plato believed there was a relationship between physical things and the world of ideas. The shadows are their only basis of reality, but it’s a false reality because they refuse, or are unable to turn, and see beyond the shadows.

So frickin metaphoric and as you know I love this stuff.

In Plato’s theory, the cave represents people who believe that knowledge comes from what we see and hear in the world – empirical evidence. The cave shows that believers of empirical knowledge are trapped in a ‘cave’ of misunderstanding (the idea is to drop the mis in misunderstanding – not to be confused with the mrs – and expose your ignorance to the light)

For example if you have only seen the shadow of a mirror and not a real mirror you would have no idea how it reflects images, or how a book holds the contents of a story, or the sound a guitar makes when played. Right?

Katie entered the class just as they were sharing their metaphoric tents! I know, I wanted to stay, but there is a coffee maker at my desk and I’m sort of chained to that whole arrangement.

So I leave and google the shit out of Plato and caves.

The idea is that we all understand life from a chained perspective so to speak because we often refuse to turn and see the fullness of reality.  If we take the idea of happiness for example, in Plato’s cave, we are blind to the reality of joy. So blind we revolt in righteous indignation against any data that suggests shadows and echoes are just that.

“I have a stiff neck, I like my views, I’m very comfortable with my self-imposed chains.” We’ve heard it all before especially in long term relationships.

What happens is we create a fictional reality where our beliefs and illusions take on a main role. This comes in the form of assumptions, rewrites of reality, or views that persistently divide instead of bridging our connection with each other.

I could see images that were lies and false realities. But, how could I consider it as such? If, from the time I was a young boy, it was the only thing I had seen that was real. Plato

These men had only seen the same images since they were born. This dampened their curiosity and they lacked incentive to turn around to see how a reflection does not present an accurate picture. This shadowed reality is artificial. It distracts them from the truth which encourages questions, communication, and contact.

However, one of them, dared to turn around and see beyond these images.

This proved to be a confusing but courageous move, being ripped from your reality, exposed to a harsh light, one you never considered possible, and this is a frightening experience to say the least. He longed to return to his shadowed reality but alas, “the truth shall set you free.”

He continued to explore this new reality and when he went back to share the “good news” with his partners, you guessed it, they refused to believe him.

“It is the task of the enlightened not only to ascend to learning and to see the good but to be willing to descend again to those prisoners and to share their troubles and their honors, whether they are worth having or not. And this they must do, even with the prospect of death.” Plato

Katie has asked her students to write a paper about their tent and the things that chains them to a false reality. In this life, due to our experience, or way of processing our experience, we accept false realities as our “truth” without question. We hold on so tight to our version of “truth” that it falsifies the present with shadows from the past.

For example, if you are an athlete and you think winning is everything, coming in second is failure, this influences everything you do. You might abandon a project or contest if you don’t think you can come in first. This becomes your reality at work, in your relationships, during conversations, while playing games, or taking on new skills, even driving a car become a competition.

Can you imagine? Something as simple as a change in perspective can remove the fear of coming in second and an entire new reality becomes possible.

Leaving the cave is a difficult process because it requires courage, resilience, and an openness to that which you have never encountered. It’s a lonely journey often viewed by others as an act of rebellion. There will be a space in time where you will not understand what is real and what isn’t. It will be disorienting.

“Any one who has common sense will remember that the bewilderments of the eyes are of two kinds, and arise from two causes, either from coming out of the light or from going into the light”
― Plato

Breaking away from beliefs that we have carried for a long time is almost impossible, especially as we age, but when you consider our entire foundation rests on these false realities, then maybe it’s time we turn and face the truth.

How do we exit the tent and break the things that chain us to a false reality?

How do we untangle the memories we have reconstructed to suit our own purposes.

Is it possible that you don’t have a monopoly on truth, that there might be another version that is less shadowed, closer to the truth, more developed?

Eventually you’ll want to come out of the tent because it is uncomfortable to live bound up in chains of ignorance.

It is part of the human condition that we accept the reality of which we have been presented. We see this most clearly in the movie The Truman Show. The main character was adopted by a production company and grows up on a movie set that he believes is the only reality. Slowly it dawns on him that there is something beyond that which he has experienced and he breaks out of the movie set, a bubble, and away from the chains that have held him.

Maybe due to our human condition we find it extremely difficult to put aside our shadowed world?

What we can do is make an effort to see things from a different perspective, maybe one that is not familiar, or of our own creation. To see things clearly with a new lens. The cave is thought to be closely related to the symbolic heart, and is often a place where the self and ego unite, resulting in things undivided such as love, compassion, and forgiveness.

Is this how Eve eventually understood the garden, taking the chance to gain a new perspective, she did the very thing that was forbidden, she reached for the fullness of truth, took a bite, got relocated, came out of the shadows.

I’m Living in the Gap, drop by anytime, we’ll go glamping.

What are the things that add clarity to your life? What is blinding you to the past? How can we remove the blindfolds, move out of the shadows, and experience a new reality.

 

Anecdotes:

• “Life” Plato
• A man’s deepest fear is that he is not good enough or that he is incompetent. He compensates for this fear by focusing on increasing his power and competence. Success, achievement, and efficiency are foremost in his life … A man appears most uncaring when he is afraid. John Gray
• “Whereas the truth is that the State in which the rulers are most reluctant to govern is always the best and most quietly governed, and the State in which they are most eager, the worst.” Plato

 

When we do our best, and I mean giving it our most heartfelt effort, not expecting it to be easy, or noticed, this is the most effective form of growth I can imagine.

What I’ve been inspired to explore today is how we develop character, what informs our growth, and how we do this intentionally. I found the answers on an unexpected excursion. Don’t bail on me now, you don’t want to miss this one!

Last weekend I had the enormous privilege of visiting “the relatives” in the heart of America. If I had considered the possibility of this experience a few years back I would have deemed it inconceivable, not because it was a risky proposition, but because the possibility did not exist.

I believe it was forces beyond the grave that pulled us together and forged the tender seedling of a new relationship. My Mom, an avid gardener in life, is no longer interested in mere horticulture, she’s cultivating and managing the future of her clan from above.

That’s so my Mom and I’ve come to believe Bev is now assisting.

As if a train conductor, they’ve pulled what they call a rail switch, which put us on a new track, one bound for middle America, where those historic tracks connect, move, and transfer the resources of this great nation from one generation to the next.

When our long lost second cousins slipped unexpectedly into our lives we embraced the opportunity to reconnect, and although delighted, it was rather brave of us to hop on a plane in route to unknown territory, banking on the hospitality of newly established relationships, but having this deep knowing we would be received with generosity and kindness.

I believe it’s transformational to purposely embrace the unknown. Don’t you?

Landing in St. Louis on a rather hot and humid day, Larry and I checked into an adorable boutique hotel, before making our way to the iconic St. Louis Arch. The significance of this monument is that it was designed to pay tribute to the role of St. Louis in the westward expansion of America (not to be confused with the McDonald’s arch and what it did for the hamburgers).

The goal was to create a permanent memorial to the people who made possible the western territorial expansion of the United States. I think it’s appropriate for these native Californians to appreciate the effort it took our ancestors to forge this great nation, exploring, and expanding our knowledge of not only the land, but it’s people.

We ended up on The Hill for dinner, the “Little Italy” of St. Louis, known for it’s authentic Italian dining, and charming neighborhoods. As the evening cooled we lounged on a quaint plaza, enjoying homemade gelato, and a spectacular fountain, as if gazing at the Trevi in Rome (on a much smaller scale mind you).

I was thinking to myself we should all live like this, simple, peaceful, assuaging.

Tomorrow we point our rented jeep towards Jefferson City, capital of Missouri, in search of “the relatives.” Are you hearing the faint sound of banjos in the distance? We’ll just push that thought away.

Sometimes we can’t see the best of ourselves until we find ourselves caught in the lens of someone who loves us, strong demanding love, and as if in the hands of a magician, we are permanently transformed.

This is what I learned from my second cousins in middle America, where the act of love comes in the form of honesty, hard work, devotion, family, integrity, and true grit. As if Louis and Clark I expanded my interior landscape by paddling upstream.

1 – First I discovered how hard it is to cultivate the land, to nurture the growth of say a fruit tree, and the rush one gets from the experience of harvesting that which you have grown. Yes, the labor was free, the work sweaty, and the cousins made use of our enthusiasm, but what I learned was far more important. You reap that which you sow in life, this can come in the form of produce, but it also shows up in our character, the hard work of cultivating oneself, it doesn’t happen without effort, nurturing, and then the reward of harvesting that which we consider our “fruit” for the benefit of others.

The act of selfless giving is not instinctual to me, but as I pluck the ripened fruit from a weighted branch of the family tree, I’m what you call a late bloomer, ripening in my own time, so don’t throw me no “shade.”

 

2 – Second I learned how difficult it is to tame the wilderness as we explored the acreage in a totally “cool” Polaris Ranger. This was right out of an Indiana Jones movie, we traversed this extraordinary terrain, forging streams, climbing steep embankments, encountering not only wildlife, but enormous spiders, spectacular groves, quaint watering holes, lush crops, and sublime scenery.

What was not known was the work Mike put into our tour beforehand, cutting miles of evil branches that snag and sting, sweeping away the majority of annoying spiders and sticky webs, and mowing the land for a smooth and enjoyable ride. This is what I refer to when I say heartfelt effort, not expecting it to be easy, or noticed, just midwest hospitality and generosity at it’s best. It did not go unnoticed.

I believe we could change the narrative of our lives if we all aspired to make life easier for each other, without calculating the difficulty, or expecting a reward.

3 – Thirdly I learned about bees, yes the ones that will sting if provoked, but make the most gloriously sweet honey imaginable. They’re organization is complex yet simple, they work relentlessly for one purpose, the survival of the colony, because individual bees (workers, drones, and queens) cannot survive without the support of the colony (this is true for humans as well).

Bees are strictly a matriarchal society, the queen bee provides the leadership and the eggs, but more importantly she produces pheromones that serve as a social “glue” unifying and helping to give individual identity to the bee colony. I think this is interesting because our human families are not only unified but often socialized by females, either consciously or unconsciously, and that might be key.  The male drones have one purpose and that is to mate with the queen (I’ll let that stand on it’s own so to speak), and the duties of the female workers change as they matriculate from nursery duties, to pollen collectors. Sound vaguely familiar?

Gail is a bee whisperer, she meticulously cares for at least a dozen colonies, harvesting honey, keeping them fed during the long winters, and rescuing hives in need of a home. This is who she is and the characteristics she invests in the survival of her bees are the very same she invests in her family. In referring to how she spends her precious time she said, “what is more important then spending my time with family and the people I love.” Enough said.

4 – The fourth lesson was one of hospitality, relationship, and hope. And I refer to hope not as an emotion, but as a cognitive behavioral process, one that is rooted in the belief that we are capable of overcoming obstacles, especially if our lives are marked by trustworthy relationships. Rebecca Solnit says, “hope locates itself in the premises that we don’t know what will happen, and that in the spaciousness of uncertainty is room to act.” I love that.

Our final night on the farm was significant because they invited their people to join us, people who define themselves as family, trustworthy relationships that have withstood the test of time, people who give each other an irresistible sense of hope.

It wasn’t just the easy camaraderie they displayed, or the diversity of the generations docked around the kitchen table, but what I found most attractive was the warm of inclusion I felt as a stranger in their midst.

[Can I just add not only were we served a delicious meal, paired with extraordinary wines, and a delectable dessert, but everyone participated, especially the drones.]

5 – Fifth and finally I think it is interesting how little we really know about each other unless we take the time to really see each other in and through the sacred lens of our passions, the things that not only drive us, but define us. We had the enormous privilege of visiting the home of my mother’s first cousin Richard, in this we were able to observe the culmination of his lifelong passion, and that being the collection, restoration, and display of miniature trains. Trains have crisscrossed our landscape for centuries, they are part of our heritage, and I believe they are embedded in our universal conscious, in that we are inordinately delighted by this form of transportation. Seeing the breadth and depth of his passion in minute detail inspired my own in ways I’ve yet to discover. I’m enormously grateful for the small peak inside the workings of this majestic man.

“Mother of the West” This Missouri nickname is a reference to Missouri’s advantageous geographical location and history of westward expansion. Both the Santa Fe and Oregon trails start in Missouri and The Pony Express and the Butterfield Overland Mail Route both originated in Missouri.

“Salus populi suprema lex esto,” is the Missouri state motto, it’s translated as “Let the good of the people be the supreme law.” We also brewed our own beer, sipped wine on the porch by the light of the moon, and engaged in unrushed conversations over steaming cups of coffee, something we often sacrifice in lieu of a more frantic lifestyle. See I believe we epitomized the state motto unawares.

I am the harvest, the witness, and the worker who learned how to show up, risk the unknown, put in the labor, and in doing so relish the sweetness of hope. Even though I am compelled to remove the struggle from the lives of those I love, I’m learning how our challenges not only form us, but drag us right through the valley of fear, and into a space where we are able to discover our best selves.

I’ve seen first hand how hard it is to cultivate the landscape in which we live, it is the same with cultivating the self, it requires extraordinary grit, the kind that forged miles and miles of tracks across America, and in doing so we discovered not only the true spirit of Missouri, but that of Mike and Gail who are, “close to home, and far from ordinary.”

I’m Living in the Gap, drop by anytime, we’ll do something simple, peaceful, assuaging.

Anecdotes:

• You have to love your country the way you love your friends, the way your spouse loves you, right? The people who love you don’t blow smoke up your backside. They don’t do that. They tell you hard truths. Ta-Nehisi Coates
• Fulfilled life is possible in spite of unfulfilled wishes. Dietrich Bonhoeffer
• “Hey. Please. This is not the Midwest. All right? Michigan is the Midwest, God knows why. This is the Plains: a state of mind, right, some spiritual affliction, like the Blues.” Tracy Letts”

 

Living in the Gap by Cheryl Oreglia

No wonder I often feel confused, especially when I’m lost in personality, this happens when I ignore my authentic way of being in the world, and slap on an old frayed mask, hoping no one will notice. As Akshay Vasu so eloquently states, “There was a closet somewhere inside me…Day after day I stored so many masks in that closet that one day I searched for my real face in it and it wasn’t there. I never understood whether I lost it or I forgot how it looked like, the more I searched the most lost I felt.” It seems I’ve never been stellar at being me.

There are people who can smell a fake a mile away, and that’s why I wear perfume, to throw them off my scent. This is my hope, if I smell nice, the association will linger…

“Perfume was first created to mask the stench of foul and offensive odors…
Spices and bold flavorings were created to mask the taste of putrid and rotting meat…
What then was music created for?
Was it to drown out the voices of others, or the voices within ourselves?
I think I know.” Emilie Autumn

My authentic self is much quieter, intentional, and introspective rather than reactive, jolly, and sanguine. Where the mask is bold, mysterious, witty, with glittered eyes, I tend towards the opposite when alone. It looks a little like withdrawal from the outside, but I’m actually quite busy dissecting my experiences as if a frog in sophomore science, cutting out the heart, the liver, the pancreas of a moment, and then peeking inside.

When I’m alone I chase ideas for miles, catching up to them when they’re worn out, where I find them spent, panting, leaning against the curb. The pursuit can be hell and that might be why my laundry is always caught up?

When I’ve run out of distractions, totally consumed, post four cups of highly caffeinated coffee, this is when I finally sit down, and write. I spew out some shitty rough draft, and then I painstakingly weave through the material, patching the holes, replacing the worn threads. With all the conversations going on in my head, I might question my sanity, but I never feel alone.

I am guilty of relying on the mask in social situations where the ratio of who I know and who I don’t is bottom heavy. There are actually people in the world who love socializing, they would prefer being with people more than showering, sleeping, or grabbing a fork and eating straight from the refrigerator. It’s weird. I’m not sure if it’s bad genetics or they’re simply missing an important gene? It could be both.

But when they’re with people they’re in their glory because I believe they’re secretly zapping our energy cell by cell, as if a vampire, they suck you dry, and simply move on to the next victim. You can spot them pretty easily, they’re all giddy, smiling, and talking up a storm, as if they’ve been clogged up like the kitchen sink, and they sort of spew when released to the public, carrot peels and all.

The ones who look pallid, pale, peaked are the introverts, usually they’re wearing a skewed mask, desperately watching the clock, or playing with their phones. On some level I think our phones are turning us into social zombies? Who has time to practice their social skills when Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and Snap Chat all need simultaneous updates. It’s as if our primary relationship is with our A.I. system instead of each other, it’s sort of adulterous, and in need of reconciliation. 

Howard: I thought you didn’t like Facebook any more.
Sheldon: Don’t be silly, I’m a fan of anything that tries to replace actual human contact. Big Bang Theory

I’ve come to believe that people can either inspire or drain one another? You know what I mean? The ones who inspire me are usually the ones I know best and spontaneously feel great joy in their presence. It’s a potent emotion, it barges in unannounced, and there’s really no denying it. This is what it feels like to be seen, to be accepted, to belong. According to Brene Brown it’s our deepest human craving and if you have people who do this for you my advice would be to keep them close.

What is best for Cheryl is to divide my time into tidy sections, as if sorting ones sock drawer, a pair for socializing, a pair for work, a pair for my sweetheart, and three to be used as slippers, or chew toys for the dog, whom I never mind being around?

Solitude matters. And for some people it is the air that they breathe. Susan Cain

When I’m forced to attend say a company event with Larry, one of those fancy affairs where I won’t know a soul, I shop Nordstrom on line until the panic subsides, then I slap on the mask, and spend a good part of the evening in search of escape, wine being a popular choice. Which is counter productive but provides a wonderful barrier, plus you can always excuse yourself for a refill, then hide in the bathroom if need be. Not that I have ever done such a thing. I’m just speculating.

I spend so much time in my head that I feel like my social skills are rustic, unpolished, rough around the edges like an unfinished table or a stool with a missing leg. Unbalanced is a good image. I’m like “girl get out of your head and into a life,” but the truth is I’m much happier living behind my words.

But I fake it well.

There is something about wearing a mask that changes you, the more anonymous you become, the greater the sense of freedom. Subversive aspects of your personality can emerge, because anonymity acts as armor, protecting the true self, and empowering the one who is acting from a place of fear. Andre Berthiaume says, “We all wear masks, and the time comes when we cannot remove them without removing some of our own skin.” Ouch.

When I mention my introverted nature I often get astonished reactions. In fact, in my nuclear family (Mom, Dad, Nancy), I was considered a virtuoso “extrovert,” because I was the only one who could pull it off, and I wore perfume. My Dad was a close second, Mom faked it well, and Nancy well she sort of hung around with extroverts so she wouldn’t have to talk. Whatever works people.

My Mom was what I call a controlled socializer, she planed her events carefully, in meticulous detail, and then she’d spent time in recovery until Emily Post (her guide to most everything) claimed a dinner party was absolutely necessary. Jeanette Winterson claims, “Don’t you, when strangers and friends come to call, straighten the cushions, kick the books under the bed and put away the letter you were writing? How many of us want any of us to see us as we really are? Isn’t the mirror hostile enough?” The truth is we connect best with each other when we’re being vulnerable, honest, open, and receptive. It’s a shame we kick the best part of us under the couch?

My immediate family got used to pushing me out into the world because no one else wanted to do it (it’s like the Mikey commercial), “Cheryl, could you go borrow sugar from the neighbor,” “Cheryl, could you call so and so and invite them to dinner,” “Cheryl, why don’t you go to the such and such event, you can represent the rest of us, make sure you say hello to so and so.” I’m not kidding. I’m like who is supposed to be adulting here?

In fact they were so good at telling me who I was I actually believed it for much of my life. E. E. Cummings wrote, “The greatest battle we face as human beings is the battle to protect our true selves from the self the world wants us to become.” I now consider it a blessing because I was forced to practice something that did not come naturally to me, although therapy was required I believe it was to my benefit, because now I have an ambidextrous personality (I made that up so don’t google it).

The point I’m trying to make with way too many words is social skills can be learned even if it doesn’t come naturally. So Mom and Dad had it right all along.

I’ll admit this to you, I used to fantasize about living in Dr. Dolittle’s giant pink sea snail, remember the spiral walls, and soft pink cushions? A she shell before it’s time! That should have been a clue, but I ignored all the evidence, because the shell was kind of a cool idea, and until now I kept that tidbit to myself.

It’s never a good idea to organize society in a way that depletes the energy of half the population. We discovered this with women decades ago, and now it’s time to realize it with introverts. Susan Cain

Anyhoo, spending time alone is a way of honoring my authentic self, that quiet voice that I can only hear when I shut up, turn the noise down, and listen. Cheryl Strayed says alone had always felt like an actual place to me, as if it weren’t a state of being, but rather a room where I could retreat to be who I really was.  Amen sister.

As if a snail, spending time out of the shell, with people you love is also important. So today I’m going to notice when I get lost in personality, and try to meet the self half way, you know what I mean, pull off the mask, bring a little more of me to the table. Is anyone with me?

Anecdotes:

• Be a loner. That gives you time to wonder, to search for the truth. Have holy curiosity. Make your life worth living. Albert Einstein
• Introverts are word economists in a society suffering from verbal diarrhea. Michaela Chung (no shit)
• People empty me. I have to get away to refill. Charles Bukowski

 

 

 

 

When friends stop showing up, it’s not because they are not good people, it’s because they don’t know how to sit with you in your pain says Glennon Doyle.

Sitting silently. 

Not judging.

Not advising.

Just presence.

We call it unconditional love.

As we age up in life we become acquainted with new arenas of suffering, like gladiators, we enter the stadium alone, unarmored, vulnerable. You look around and wonder where the hell is Russell Crowe?

I am not really into setbacks, hang nails, or snafu’s of any kind.

And now our friends are giving up bread, not drinking during the week, and fasting.

What the hell is going on here?

Is it me or is the planet rotating much faster then say thirty years ago?

I get up in the middle of the night and I’m actually dizzy? What I need is bread, butter, and single malt whiskey over ice. That’s right, I’m living on the edge, when I really should be afraid of heights.

All of a sudden I find myself lamenting about real or imagined pain instead of yammering about fashion trends and the Doobie Brothers. I used to laugh when my parents got together with friends and all they did was talk about their “issues.”

I don’t think this was what they meant when they say we’ve arrived?

What they don’t tell you is just when you crest the mountain, this troll with a linebacker complex takes you out, and you sort of free fall, bouncing off the jagged boulders, until you hit the canyon floor with an ugly splat. We call this aging?

“Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming “Wow! What a Ride! Hunter S. Thompson

Speaking of rides, I just got done with spin class, and believe me when I say I’m totally worn out, but nowhere near the, “Wow – what a ride” claim.

My body has major design flaws, I think it was an evolutionary bungle when we started walking upright, a small step for man, a huge step for chiropractors.

In fact my ears and eyes are underperforming as well.

“The brain cells that produce pain get better and better at producing pain.” Lorimer Moseley (what a loaded statement)

Just to be clear, I’m not a high maintenance person, I’m sensitive, it’s more of a spectrum issue, and that’s why I need what Glennon Doyle describes as an easy button. You know the ones they sell at Staples, something I can push when absolutely necessary, I’m sort of enamored with the idea. Aren’t you?

Aristotle says anybody can become angry – that is easy, but to be angry with the right person and to the right degree and at the right time and for the right purpose, and in the right way – and let me just say that’s my power.

Here’s what went down. Larry sent me a text, “we were charged $103 today for your gym membership.” (I suspended my membership over the summer, try not to judge, I was relaxing at the lake, and who can be two places at once?)

For context, I had my granddaughter with me, her school let’s out at 1:30 on Tuesdays, and they’re still trying to secure daycare. I have already gone to the grocery store twice, made play dough, shared my entire tiny box collection, and finally resurrected an old tea set. As Audrey spills water all over the kitchen floor I’m making a caprese salad.

I reply, “Yes, I’m back.”

He texts me back immediately with a very passive aggressive message, “so you’re planning on using the gym? I wasn’t sure?

I write, “duh,” I’m sort of busy mopping up the floor, shucking the corn, and slicing tomatoes, this seems self evident. I believe it’s more fun to talk with someone who uses short, easy words…like duh for example.

He is still in the dark, “Is that a yes?”

You can only push me so far and I go to the dark side. We have an Elk’s membership that is thirty yeas old. We never use it. I’ve been asking him to drop it for twenty-five years! So I say, “How about the Elks?” 

Oh Nelly, I hit the hot button, he writes back, “why are you in such a bad mood. I’m just alerting you to this charge? WTF”

I start looking around for the easy button, Russell Crowe, maybe a rosary.

I write back, “I’m not in a mood at all, in fact Audrey and I are having a snack, she’s telling me about her day. I am fully aware the memberships starts up today and obviously I plan on using it. I assumed you understood duh as a word used to comment on a statement perceived as obvious? Guess not. Is cussing really necessary?”

All communication seises. As you know the word text come from texere, which means to weave, as in weave yourself into a corner.

The family arrives, Larry pulls into the drive, and we proceed with our “pleasant” dinner plans. We purposely avoid each other, with minimal communication, “pass the corn please.” I smile excessively just to be annoying.

This might be the underbelly of unconditional love.

As we’re waving good-bye to the children, standing side by side on the porch, watching the light from their car fade as they move down the street, I give him the look.

He says, “what?”

“You’re so good at being annoying.”

He smiles like I gave him the biggest compliment.

“I ordered an easy button from Staples, and when it’s lite up, all you do is open wine.”

I hear him laughing on the way to to the kitchen, he pours two small glasses, and motions me to follow him out to the patio. It’s finally cooling off and so are we.

We sit silently. 

Not judging.

Not advising.

Just presence.

We call it unconditional love.

Without love
Where would you be right now
Doobie Brothers

I went to spin class a few days later to qualify the “duh.”

And then I ordered an easy button just to be funny, okay annoying, and it’s adorable.

I’m Living in the Gap, drop by anytime, we’ll practice living on the edge.

Anecdotes:

• Things hurt more when you’re stressed or sad, and the increased pain makes you both stressed and sad. The way out of this vicious circle is a wholesale change to how you perceive fear, suffering and setbacks. Rob Heaton
• All evil is easy. Dying, losing, cheating, and mediocrity is easy. Stay away from easy. Scott Alexander (what does he know)
• To find fault is easy; to do better may be difficult. Plutarch