Life is made up of lots of definitive moments that allow us to become who we are. Sometimes these moments are huge and unmistakable. Sometimes they are much less noticeable, and we may not even recognize such a moment until days, months or years after the fact. I came to such a realization this weekend.
When I went to college, I was a very shy and quiet girl. In high school, I had my group of friends, and I didn't like to be on my own outside that group. My first college roommate was a friend I had known since elementary school, so I got to escape that first dreaded "new friend" experience. I followed those I knew and joined clubs that they were in. I stuck close to my roommate and did many of the same things she did. I absolutely did not like being thrust into a group of people I did not know, and avoided it as much as possible.
I've grown up quite a bit since that time, have embraced the idea of meeting new people, and am more comfortable with being in a group of unknown faces. It's still not necessarily my favorite thing to do, but I am much more at peace with that type of situation than I had been when I was younger.
Recently, I was asked to play with a band that included some extremely talented musicians. I knew that my level of talent was not close to the level of some of these other players. Some of the music I had played before, many times before. No problem. It was the 5 songs that I was looking at for the first time that scared the living daylights out of me. They were tough. I had 3 weeks to learn them, and I needed to play them well. To say that I was nervous was the understatement of the year.
My Very Dear Friend, and mentor, offered to help me practice, which I gladly accepted. Fast forward to the rehearsal and day of the gig. I survived, played well, received lots of compliments, and was quite surprised and happy with how relaxed I was and how well I played. I had "stepped in it," as my friend says, and succeeded.
After the gig, a small group retreated to a friend's house for snacks and drinks, and to await the weekend's fireworks. It was rainy, and I decided to skip the short-lived but colorful display that I have seen so many years prior. At this moment in time, I needed to sit and talk with the friends I was with. There were 4 of us, sitting on a back porch, reminiscing about past bands that we had played with, trips taken with those bands, people from those bands, all the while laughing.
My friend and previous college professor began talking about how he had recruited certain players, by going to NYSSMA competitions and finding the best high school players that he could, then bringing them to his college music program. As he spoke, I retraced in my head various steps of my life, like a movie who's back story was unfolding. And I came to a huge realization.
When I was freshman in college, I saw a sign for an open rehearsal for a jazz band, and decided to go. The comfortable path was to stay in my room, to not put myself out there, to not insert myself into an unfamiliar situation with unfamiliar people. After a very stern one-sided conversation, I forced myself to take my sax and walk the short distance from my dorm to the music building.
Because of that rehearsal, I met a very nice guy, and we became instant friends. He was one of the first true friends I made during my 5 years at that school. That friend convinced me to join another jazz band on campus, and introduced me to a music professor who I would play for in various capacities for 20 years. That friend and I were also instrumental founding members of a co-ed music fraternity on our campus that still exists today. That fraternity was largely responsible for shaping the person I was through the rest of my college life, and subsequently, who I am today. The music program and the music fraternity also allowed me to meet many people, including one who would become my Very Dear Friend and mentor.
This particular weekend, I sat on the back porch with my 3 friends - the first friend I made in college, my former college professor, and my music mentor - and I realized that everything pointed back to one definitive moment: my decision to go to that rehearsal. It was completely out of my comfort zone, out of my realm of normalcy, but I went anyway.
Everything happens for a reason, although it may not be obvious at the time that the actions are being taken.
When I shared my grand epiphany with my other back porch companions, the sarcastic response was, "And where did that get you?" I answered, "Look at me now. It got me here."
Preserving Friendships
I screwed up. Big.Time. I took certain actions that unintentionally hurt someone I love. The actions themselves were innocent, but the long-term consequences were monumental, and I knew this. Still, I never purposefully meant to hurt this person. Seems like every time I try to protect someone, or somehow make life a little easier, or make more than one person happy, or fix a situation, it backfires and I just end up screwing up.
So, what can I do about this? Well, the obvious answer is, "Learn from your mistakes and don't screw up the same way twice." Unfortunately, situations seem to be different enough from one another that I don't always see the screw up coming. I think, "I will do it better this time, and I'll be more conscious of how that person feel,s" but then there's some other angle of the situation that I don't anticipate. Bam. Screwed up.
There have been plenty of occasions when I have thought that I am really no good at maintaining a decent relationship - with anyone! I've quite often wondered over the years how men and women have meaningful relationships together at all. I mean, we tend to see things so differently, and every now and then I wonder if the perspectives of either side are even located in the same universe. Sometimes I think I have better friendships with guys than women. And sometimes I think I have better friendships with women than men. Why do some relationships come so easy and others take an immense amount of work? How do we know when the relationship is worthwhile, and when it's just frivolous? And what exactly do we need to do to find, keep and even improve on a wonderful relationship with another human being?
I think that I've learned a few things along the way, but I'm by no means an expert. If you perchance think that I am about to give advice that's concrete, proven, tried and true, may I suggest that you go back and read the first paragraph again. I screw up. A lot. With lots of different people. I'm not an expert. But I do my best to learn from my mistakes and not repeat the same situation. That said, here's a few things I've learned.
So, what can I do about this? Well, the obvious answer is, "Learn from your mistakes and don't screw up the same way twice." Unfortunately, situations seem to be different enough from one another that I don't always see the screw up coming. I think, "I will do it better this time, and I'll be more conscious of how that person feel,s" but then there's some other angle of the situation that I don't anticipate. Bam. Screwed up.
There have been plenty of occasions when I have thought that I am really no good at maintaining a decent relationship - with anyone! I've quite often wondered over the years how men and women have meaningful relationships together at all. I mean, we tend to see things so differently, and every now and then I wonder if the perspectives of either side are even located in the same universe. Sometimes I think I have better friendships with guys than women. And sometimes I think I have better friendships with women than men. Why do some relationships come so easy and others take an immense amount of work? How do we know when the relationship is worthwhile, and when it's just frivolous? And what exactly do we need to do to find, keep and even improve on a wonderful relationship with another human being?
I think that I've learned a few things along the way, but I'm by no means an expert. If you perchance think that I am about to give advice that's concrete, proven, tried and true, may I suggest that you go back and read the first paragraph again. I screw up. A lot. With lots of different people. I'm not an expert. But I do my best to learn from my mistakes and not repeat the same situation. That said, here's a few things I've learned.
- Be yourself. Duh. So many people try to be someone or something they're truly not, and it just gives false impressions to other people who might want a relationship with you, and eventually causes problems. So just be you, and be proud of you.
- Accept criticism gracefully. Everyone's first instinct is to bare the teeth and bring out the claws when we feel that we are being criticized or attacked in any way. Don't. Instead, breathe. Breathe deep. Calmly accept what you are being told, and do your best to acknowledge the other person's side of the situation. That doesn't mean you have to agree with them, but take a step out of your shoes for a moment or two.
- Listen. Good relationships are based on listening. It's our nature to want to talk about us- our problems, our triumphs, our joys, our sorrows. When you can put your own issues on hold, truly listen and sincerely care about someone else's issues, we are laying the foundation for a very solid relationship.
- Don't expect everything to go your way. This is my Numero Uno. I never thought of myself as controlling, but the more arguments I have, the more I realize that I am. If the conflict is not resolved in the manner in which I feel it should be, I get very upset about it. Both opponents need to understand the other's position, and be empathetic to the fact that our view is not the only view.
- Put on the poker face and stay calm. Ok, another Numero Uno. An extremely difficult task for me, especially when I'm heated. My emotions go haywire, the words come flying out my mouth before my brain has a chance to edit them, and my tone gets louder and meaner. Not exactly constructive. Breathe, breathe deep, keep a straight face and speak slowly and softly. Hard to do, yes. But it could help stave off an escalated war.
- Enjoy the good. Sometimes we spend too much time thinking about what we should be doing, or will be doing in a little while, or something other than what we are doing right now. When presented with an opportunity to have fun, just have fun. Don't worry about the coulda-shoulda-woulda's. Focus on there Here and Now.
- Discuss problems. Despite the tendency to want to squash problems, sweep them under the rug and ignore them (admit it, we've all done this), a discussion needs to take place in order to resolve any kind of issue. And by 'discussion' I mean a calm, civil exchange between two rational human beings. Not a throw down, no-holds-barred, all out fight. It takes two people to fight, but usually just one can bring the overall tone back down to earth.
- Admit when you're wrong. Plain and simple. Admit it, sincerely. Apologize, sincerely. Ask for forgiveness, sincerely.
- Never underestimate your own self worth. No relationship is perfect, and no person is perfect. But relationships self-destruct when one side thinks of her/himself at a much lower standard than deserved. Recognize that everyone has attributes and qualities that are worth loving and celebrating. Everyone. Yes, even you.
- Work together. Relationships are a two way street. Both parties must be equally tolerant, loving, responsible, considerate, empathetic, helpful to the other. If one person has to work too hard to keep the balance on par, eventually, they will give up and abandon ship.
There's my two cents. Everyday I strive to master these guidelines. Hell, I've worked pretty hard to even be able to recognize some of these guidelines. When faced with a difficult period in a relationship, we each must be able to hold our head high and say, "I've done the best I can." Relationships are not easy. Let's do all we can to help each other through. After all, we're in this journey together.
Conflict
I don't fight well with people. I guess I never have. I say this because I have realized that much of the conflict I deal with is partially my own fault. I pick fights. I say things that don't need to be said. I over-react. I allow myself to get angry, and then I stew. Oh, I stew like no one's ever stewed before! I don't just slide into a deep dark hole of anger, I all but throw myself there. And for what purpose? I have no idea.
I'm generally a very happy, friendly person. For many years, when I got angry, I didn't really do anything about it. I would brush it under the rug, fix things myself or just ignore the reasons I was upset and pretend everything was ok. Just for the record, these methods do not work very well in most situations. At least not that I've found. There is something to be said for walking away from a fight, and knowing when to shut up (something I am definitely lacking), but I have realized that when you just pretend the problem doesn't exist or doesn't upset you, it never gets solved. You may be able to ignore it for a while, but the next time a similar scenario comes up - and it will - the emotions and anger are brought back to the surface.
I like to run away from conflict. Which is probably why I kept my mouth shut over certain things for so many years. Just didn't want to deal with it. Or didn't know how to deal with it. I've grown up some in 20 years, and have learned a thing or two, but apparently my brain cannot comprehend the "fighting nicely" techniques that I know I have been shown. Given the opportunity, and a tiny bit of explosive sarcasm, I turn into the Queen of WWIII. Granted, I'm not the only one who contributes, but I know there are ways to prevent this.
I've been told in not so many words that I am controlling, and if something isn't done my way it's not right. I deny it, but in thinking about various scenarios that ended badly, I realize that perhaps there is more truth to that than I wish to admit. I have a way of doing things, a way of saying things, a way of handling things. It may not always be the best way, but it's my way. And just because it's my way doesn't mean it has to be someone else's way. People deal with the same situation in very different ways. This is the part I need to understand and respect. I need to learn to step back and give people the room they need in order to deal with it. Stop digging, and analyzing and asking questions. Just step back.
Then there's the "letting go" aspect of the fight. With some people, once a fight is said and done, it's simply said and done. Period. The end. Forget about it. Not so with me. I tuck things away, waiting for another opportunity to bring them out and them in my opponent's face. I remember stupid, minuscule, petty things that annoy me, and I let those things continue to annoy me. I base current arguments on past circumstances, and sometimes the two don't even connect together. I get sucked into the heat of the moment, then I let the bombs drop. I say things I don't mean, things that are just plain mean, and plenty of things that I regret within a split second of saying them. I literally cannot shut up. And that's my biggest detriment.
So, why am I outlining all this? I'm not really sure. Maybe because I'm hoping that by seeing it in writing, I'll be able to better control it. Or by sharing it with others, I'll be able to adjust it. Or that maybe someone who acts the same way I do will be able to learn a little bit about themselves.
These are all guidelines I have learned of how to fight well with others. I just wish I could remember to follow them.
I'm generally a very happy, friendly person. For many years, when I got angry, I didn't really do anything about it. I would brush it under the rug, fix things myself or just ignore the reasons I was upset and pretend everything was ok. Just for the record, these methods do not work very well in most situations. At least not that I've found. There is something to be said for walking away from a fight, and knowing when to shut up (something I am definitely lacking), but I have realized that when you just pretend the problem doesn't exist or doesn't upset you, it never gets solved. You may be able to ignore it for a while, but the next time a similar scenario comes up - and it will - the emotions and anger are brought back to the surface.
I like to run away from conflict. Which is probably why I kept my mouth shut over certain things for so many years. Just didn't want to deal with it. Or didn't know how to deal with it. I've grown up some in 20 years, and have learned a thing or two, but apparently my brain cannot comprehend the "fighting nicely" techniques that I know I have been shown. Given the opportunity, and a tiny bit of explosive sarcasm, I turn into the Queen of WWIII. Granted, I'm not the only one who contributes, but I know there are ways to prevent this.
I've been told in not so many words that I am controlling, and if something isn't done my way it's not right. I deny it, but in thinking about various scenarios that ended badly, I realize that perhaps there is more truth to that than I wish to admit. I have a way of doing things, a way of saying things, a way of handling things. It may not always be the best way, but it's my way. And just because it's my way doesn't mean it has to be someone else's way. People deal with the same situation in very different ways. This is the part I need to understand and respect. I need to learn to step back and give people the room they need in order to deal with it. Stop digging, and analyzing and asking questions. Just step back.
Then there's the "letting go" aspect of the fight. With some people, once a fight is said and done, it's simply said and done. Period. The end. Forget about it. Not so with me. I tuck things away, waiting for another opportunity to bring them out and them in my opponent's face. I remember stupid, minuscule, petty things that annoy me, and I let those things continue to annoy me. I base current arguments on past circumstances, and sometimes the two don't even connect together. I get sucked into the heat of the moment, then I let the bombs drop. I say things I don't mean, things that are just plain mean, and plenty of things that I regret within a split second of saying them. I literally cannot shut up. And that's my biggest detriment.
So, why am I outlining all this? I'm not really sure. Maybe because I'm hoping that by seeing it in writing, I'll be able to better control it. Or by sharing it with others, I'll be able to adjust it. Or that maybe someone who acts the same way I do will be able to learn a little bit about themselves.
These are all guidelines I have learned of how to fight well with others. I just wish I could remember to follow them.
- Don't bring up the past.
- Choose your words carefully.
- Think before your speak.
- Don't blame.
- Take ownership of your actions.
- Remember, body language and tone speak louder than the actual words.
- Apologize when it's needed.
- Be the bigger person.
- Remember your mistakes - and we all make them.
- Check your attitude.
- Don't expect others to abide by "your way."
- Listen carefully.
- Be respectful.
- Don't scream, don't use name-calling and don't use foul language.
Best Mom
I'm not a perfect mom. No woman is. I've sent my kids to school in short sleeves when it's below 50. I've let them skip breakfast and eat ice cream for dinner. I've screamed at them when I'm angry, even if I'm not angry at them. I've lied to them, and told them they couldn't have a lollipop for snack because there weren't any left in the house. I've given them 2 teaspoons of water and told them it was medicine for their cough, because I didn't think the cough was bad enough to worry about it. Sometimes I eat dinner in the bedroom, with the door closed, while they eat dinner and watch TV in the living room.
The other day, my daughter wanted to wear a fancy dress to school. After some back and forth discussion, I decided it would be ok. One small hitch - it was gym day. Needless to say, she ended up with a hole in her stockings. My youngest is getting too tall for most of his pants, but I only have a few pair that fit him, so I let him wear the short ones anyway. My oldest dresses himself, and most of the time he wears short sleeve T-shirts, and most of the time I don't notice. So he goes to school in a T-shirt, even on cold, winter days. (Clothing tends to be a hot topic of question in our house.)
I could go on, and by these standards, I am a horrible mom. There are people who don't agree with my choices. There are people who may scoff at my parenting skills. There are people who think I could do better... with a lot of things.
A night or two ago, my daughter drew me this picture. (That's me, just in case anyone was wondering.) She said, "I love you Mama, and you're the best Mama ever!"
At that moment, when she sincerely looked into my eyes and handed me this crayon rendition of me, all the stupid things that I beat myself up over just disappeared.
My youngest son has presented me with drawings of him and I with a heart in between us, "because we're in love" he says. I melt to a puddle of mushy mush when he tells me things like "You make my heart happy, Mama" or "I love you past the Earth and space and the clouds and sky, and even past the sun!" All my bad choices, all my parenting fails, vanish.
My oldest (who is a pre-preteen) is not yet completely mortified by his mother's existence. He lets me hug and even kiss him on the head when I drop him off at school. He doesn't roll his eyes when I yell "Love you!" through the open window of the car while other people are in earshot. Not so much anymore, but he used to draw me pictures of him and I taking walks and playing together, complete with hearts and stars and flowers and more hearts. Now, he shares with me his many Lego creations and asks for my help solving word puzzles. And when he does, all my insecurities and all my questionable decisions fade away.
I spend time with my children. They cook with me, they clean up with me, they help me do laundry and dishes. We go roller skating, to the park, to the movies, to the grocery store, to the library, to McDonald's and out for ice cream. We take walks, we read books, we pull weeds, we pick strawberries and tomatoes together. We draw pictures, play games and I let them tell me what to do. We sing and dance and laugh and snuggle. I could go on, and by these standards, I'm a great mom.
I cannot and will not give them every thing their hearts desire. I don't spoil them by bowing to their every request. I have made some poor choices, but my children are always fed, always clothed, they always have a warm bed to sleep in and a roof to sleep under. They understand that I will listen to them and I will help them and I will pay attention to them.
They also know that they sometimes need to wait their turn to talk to me, or wait until I'm not busy and distracted so I can fully listen to what they are saying. They know there are rules to follow, and they (usually) know what happens when they don't follow them. They know what will happen if they push my buttons the wrong way. They know that they need to be respectful of everyone else around them.
I am most certainly not a perfect mom. But according to my kids, I'm the best mom. And if their vision of me is a flippy-haired, purple-eyed, smiling girl surrounded by hearts... well, I'm perfectly ok with that. Their standard is the only standard I really need to care about anyway.
The other day, my daughter wanted to wear a fancy dress to school. After some back and forth discussion, I decided it would be ok. One small hitch - it was gym day. Needless to say, she ended up with a hole in her stockings. My youngest is getting too tall for most of his pants, but I only have a few pair that fit him, so I let him wear the short ones anyway. My oldest dresses himself, and most of the time he wears short sleeve T-shirts, and most of the time I don't notice. So he goes to school in a T-shirt, even on cold, winter days. (Clothing tends to be a hot topic of question in our house.)
I could go on, and by these standards, I am a horrible mom. There are people who don't agree with my choices. There are people who may scoff at my parenting skills. There are people who think I could do better... with a lot of things.
At that moment, when she sincerely looked into my eyes and handed me this crayon rendition of me, all the stupid things that I beat myself up over just disappeared.
My youngest son has presented me with drawings of him and I with a heart in between us, "because we're in love" he says. I melt to a puddle of mushy mush when he tells me things like "You make my heart happy, Mama" or "I love you past the Earth and space and the clouds and sky, and even past the sun!" All my bad choices, all my parenting fails, vanish.
My oldest (who is a pre-preteen) is not yet completely mortified by his mother's existence. He lets me hug and even kiss him on the head when I drop him off at school. He doesn't roll his eyes when I yell "Love you!" through the open window of the car while other people are in earshot. Not so much anymore, but he used to draw me pictures of him and I taking walks and playing together, complete with hearts and stars and flowers and more hearts. Now, he shares with me his many Lego creations and asks for my help solving word puzzles. And when he does, all my insecurities and all my questionable decisions fade away.
I spend time with my children. They cook with me, they clean up with me, they help me do laundry and dishes. We go roller skating, to the park, to the movies, to the grocery store, to the library, to McDonald's and out for ice cream. We take walks, we read books, we pull weeds, we pick strawberries and tomatoes together. We draw pictures, play games and I let them tell me what to do. We sing and dance and laugh and snuggle. I could go on, and by these standards, I'm a great mom.
I cannot and will not give them every thing their hearts desire. I don't spoil them by bowing to their every request. I have made some poor choices, but my children are always fed, always clothed, they always have a warm bed to sleep in and a roof to sleep under. They understand that I will listen to them and I will help them and I will pay attention to them.
They also know that they sometimes need to wait their turn to talk to me, or wait until I'm not busy and distracted so I can fully listen to what they are saying. They know there are rules to follow, and they (usually) know what happens when they don't follow them. They know what will happen if they push my buttons the wrong way. They know that they need to be respectful of everyone else around them.
I am most certainly not a perfect mom. But according to my kids, I'm the best mom. And if their vision of me is a flippy-haired, purple-eyed, smiling girl surrounded by hearts... well, I'm perfectly ok with that. Their standard is the only standard I really need to care about anyway.
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