Thursday, January 24, 2013

Musical Memories #1: "Operator" by Jim Croce

Musical Memories!  We all have them: a song comes on the radio, or over your favorite web music channel, and it brings you right back to a certain time.  I share some of my own musical memories here in this special series.  Click on "Musical Memories" in the sidebar to read them as they're posted.

The room was dark, and I was exhausted.  Thankfully for the gift from medical science known as epidural anesthesia, my body had finally relaxed enough that I was able to progress through active labor to transition after being stalled for over 12 hours.

At some point in the early morning, the spouse had hooked up his iPad and asked what kind of music I wanted.  I don't remember how the music was picked out; I eventually found out that he had set up "Moody Blues Radio" on Pandora.  This indicates that my mother had something to do with the choice of music, the Moody Blues being far and away one of her favorite groups. 

I had had my epidural placed for about three hours and was at that point where I would have to start pushing.  At some point in this whole process, I had a brief, lucid moment and tuned into the sounds in the room.  I heard "Operator" playing and said to the spouse, "Hey, this is a good station."

"Yeah," agreed the others in the room.  "It really is."


The lyrics to "Operator" have nothing to do with childbirth, as far as I can tell.  They seem to be a song about the one that got away, a long-lost love.  It's the last song I remember hearing before my daughter was born and, when it came on over the oldies station today, it brought me back to that moment just months ago when she was about to come into the world.  For that reason, it has landed a spot among my musical memories that I'm sure will last until the end of my life.
   

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

On Heartbreak

Sometimes I find that I have real difficulty in naming what I'm feeling.

Has this ever happened to anyone else?

Let's take, for instance, the feeling of heartbreak.

Over time, I've been able to recognize and acknowledge difficult feelings as they come up, and maybe even name them properly: grief, loneliness, disappointment, frustration, and so on.  I'd thought about heartbreak, and even thought that I didn't have much heartbreak in my life.

My active, present-day journey in starting to recognize and name heartbreak has a few notable markers that come readily to mind.  One that comes most quickly to mind was when I was at the wonderful Ferry Beach Camp and Conference Center last summer and speaking with new friends about some relationship challenges that I had been grappling with over a period of several years.  One woman -- a thoughtful, articulate woman with a rather quiet demeanor but a wicked sense of humor -- broke the silence after I told my story by saying, "it sounds like a situation of almost constant heartbreak."  I studied her face for a few moments before looking down at my hands.  Heartbreak.  It resonated, and I found myself in this place I find myself in so often, the place where I become reacquainted with some feeling that I haven't felt in awhile and get intensely curious about it: hey, what is this?  Where did this come from?  Heartbreak seems like the right word, but what part of what I'm feeling is the heartbreak part?

The concept of heartbreak has shown up again recently, in an online exchange I read about the distinctions, similarities, and relationship between rejection and heartbreak.  Saying that a lightbulb came on would be an understatement.  This wasn't merely a lightbulb moment; this was a veritable I'm-going-to-light-up-a-darkened-room-and-blow-your-mind moment.  My sudden realization was many times in my life, I was able to identify and work through the grief and loneliness that come with social rejection, death, or that drifting apart that happens sometimes between friends when life changes, but I had not successfully identified my feelings of heartbreak.

To help with my understanding, I went to seek some help from all-knowing Google, who referred me to Wikipedia, that lovely pre-research research page:  "Heartbreak may refer to: broken heart, the emotions felt after the end of a romance, or grief or disappointment."  As I went on to follow links and read more, I discovered that I'm not the only one who has had trouble identifying heartbreak -- or other feelings, for that matter -- and that humans can often have feelings they have difficulty naming, or even may not know they have.  I also discovered that what scientists know about heartbreak is fascinating. There is a real "broken heart syndrome" that can cause the tissue in the heart to break down and is seen at times in a person who has suffered the loss of a spouse after many years.  

As interesting to my mind as all of this was (online research:candy store :: Amy:kids), it didn't really answer the question of what one does with heartbreak, or other feelings that are so challenging.  The only thing I know to do with it is to accept it with as much compassion as you can and, eventually, grow from the experience.  I think heartbreak is one of those givens about life in a human body.  I do know, though, that for me, just being able to identify the feeling as one of heartbreak has already gone a long way toward helping me to accept it when it's there, and to move on from it when it's time.
 

Saturday, January 19, 2013

33 Acts of Kindness

The holiday season comes and goes each year, and in the chaos of multiple visits to relatives' homes, the driving all over creation, and the chance to start anew at the beginning of another year, I often forget that my birthday will soon be here.  It isn't until we're a few days into the new year and I remember an ex-boyfriend's birthday, or have cause to write the date on a piece of paper, that I realize it's a new year.  That means that I have three weeks to figure out what to do for my birthday.

Each year, I've tried to pull together some kind of gathering.  Not one for big, noisy parties as a general rule -- though they have their time and place -- I usually have a few friends over sometime around my birthday.  We eat, we hang out, and one year, we even watched the Super Bowl to celebrate.  I spent my tenth birthday at a local roller skating rink with ten of my friends, while my thirtieth birthday was taken up with yoga, meditation, writing, and staring at the stars while at Kripalu.

My thirty-second year was a remarkable one, with the news that I was pregnant again, shortly after having miscarried.  That ended with a healthy little girl who is two months old today and a total delight.  I also received news that a poetry collection I had submitted to a contest had placed as a semifinalist,  meaning that I was offered publication.  I find myself fortunate to still be gainfully employed given the economic challenges that our country faces.  It also turns out that, although I still find myself feeling pangs of loneliness in my day-to-day life, I am not as alone in the world as I have often worried that I am.  

I am fortunate, and I am blessed.

 When I think of all of this, I find myself full of gratitude.  It lifts my heart and causes me to consider what had to happen for me to get to this place in my life.  Much of it has had to do with being willing to see what is good and wonderful and beautiful in life, rather than overfocusing on what is difficult or painful.  This doesn't mean ignoring the difficult pieces of life.  It only means giving the places in life that are challenging just as much attention as is necessary, and not a bit more.

I've decided that, for my thirty-third birthday, a few friends will come over as they do each year to hang out, eat ice cream, and talk about intense and thorny topics, like religion and politics.  When they go home, though, I have another year facing me, so I am committing myself to 33 Acts of Kindness over the next...well, however long it takes, but no longer than a year.  They can be big or small, but it won't be the same thing over and over.  For example, I won't be counting "let a car pull out in front of me on Pleasant Street during rush hour" more than once.

This was an idea I had unbridled enthusiasm about when I thought of it in the car on my way to the gym last week.  As I think about it now, it's the kind of thing that just feels right.  When I hear "what do you want for your birthday?"  My honest answer is that I really can't think of much.  My life is full, and I want to do these acts of kindness as a way to express my gratitude for what I already have.


For each act of kindness done in the world -- for another person, an organization, or what have you -- I plan to direct an act of kindness toward myself.  If you don't fill your own cup, you have nothing to give to others, and the giving you try to do comes from a place of needing others to give to you.

What do YOU have to give, to share with the world?