To All the Single Ladies.....

Aleathia says:

This weekend at work was very testing. There was a fire, it was super busy and we worked short, and then the last day all the patients were dramatic and challenging. It about near sucked the life out of me. Each night before I go to sleep I scroll through the YouTube feed to see if anything interesting pops up. Sometimes I find great new music or an interesting TED talk. Sometimes I watch weird surveys or dance videos.

This weekend I came upon a video of a woman who was celebrating her 7th year of being single. Her definition of single being not in a dedicated, notated relationship that would be called a couple. She had gone on dates and had many situations, but still single. This woman was beautiful and thin and the first thing I thought was "I'm doomed". But rather than shut the video off, I kept watching to see WHY she was celebrating this milestone. She also has a website called The Problem with Dating.

She talked about having been in a string of ongoing or steady relationships for more than 10 years and all of which ended poorly. After the last one she realized that she had a lot of personal work to do on herself before she could be in a couple and maintain a healthy, functional relationship with another human being. She talked about how if you are wanting to be in a relationship to validate your existence in the world, you aren't ready. If you are in a relationship so you aren't lonely, you aren't ready. If you are in a relationship so you fit in with your friend's and family's expectations of you, you aren't ready.

This sort of hit me like a ton of bricks. I consider myself to be very observant and marginally intelligent. Why had I not thought of this before? How come I could not see this? It is very interesting to me how I could trick myself into thinking all my actions were valid in the past. I'm not going to be horrid to myself about it. I was young. I was without information that was vital to moving around in this world.

I grew up in a dysfunctional family and this isn't a singular badge. I know that so many of us do and in this day and age I'm sure dysfunction is the norm. But I also know that I grew up a child of trauma from living in a house that was full of alcohol and drugs and infidelity. There was little emotional money in our family. I learned to be invisible. I learned that being lonely is very painful. I learned that despite abuse you just shut up and take it because you don't want anyone else to know your business. This was the ammunition I left home with. It didn't feel natural or true, but it was all I had.

In all my relationships I think I have tried to show my true colors, but fear of rejection and abandonment have always loomed near the surface. All people want to be loved and accepted. If someone tells you otherwise then they are lying. Isolation is a defense mechanism. It takes away the opportunity for someone to hurt you because you are not present to be hurt.

This year has been emotionally challenging for me as many of you have read on this blog in previous posts. It takes a lot from me to be able to share my pain and my misgivings with whomever chooses to read about it and I put myself in this position because I want to grow. I do it because maybe I'm not alone in the world with the life I've lived and maybe, just maybe, I can help someone else not feel alone in their pain by sharing.

I have realized that I am not ready to be in a relationship. I really do have so much work to do on myself and that requires space and time. But the hopeful thing that woman said in her video was that she recognized in her journey of working on herself that she had attracted the most amazing and creative people in her life. That was something to be excited about and despite attracting all these great men, the one meant for her had not shown up yet.  I have always loved the quote "Good things come to those who wait." I don't take the waiting to be something idle, but more like a patient observation of the world; a gathering of information and self-education.

So I've been single for 16 months. I have learned a lot, but not quite enough to feel whole yet. Thank you to all who have read my posts and watch me melt down in a public forum. Thanks for coming back over and over again. I hope life treats you all kindly. Much love.

Aleathia

Winter and "Call the Midwife"

Aleathia says:

In winter I feel the roots of my heritage take hold. Polish, Yugoslavia, Russian....possible Romanian. Throw in French Canadian and you have a recipe for hibernation. We are a somewhat contemplative, stoic bunch around strangers; full of vibrant life around those we trust and love. when ice and snow take over the land it begins a time of inner discovery.

Personally, I love the snow and quite enjoy a brisk walk in the winter sun. From my warm couch I can see the skeletal remains of trees on the hills, the ground blanketed in snow, the palest of blue skies, and ice flowing down the river. I sit here a lot and do nothing but think.

Winter is also the time when I binge watch television at night when my bones are aching and cold and the only comfort from pain I get is the distraction of needlework and television. There are some shows I put on for noise to ease the winter loneliness. The sound of conversations I don't have to engage in are a pleasure and the cadence of them makes the crocheting go faster. But once in a while I find a show that pierces the heart of me.

This week I wanted a break from my usual British crime series, so I stuck with the British theme and dove into "Call the Midwife". I have anxiety for when the series will be done. I have consumed 4 seasons already. I have cried nearly every episode.  It is not often that this happens. I admit to being an old softie, but this show has struck something deeper for me.



I am a nurse, so the show is relative to me in this sense. When I was first in nursing school I wanted to work in OB and help deliver babies. I had this unrealistic dream of how I would feel about such a thing. I felt my sensitive nature would make me perfect for the job. One evening during clinical I was able to witness the births of two babies. I am not sure I ever cried so much in my life. The screaming, the blood, the first sound of a baby crying, the look on the mother's face when she first sees her baby...these things are devastatingly beautiful. I decided that night that I could never do the job. I would need to be stronger if things went wrong and I wasn't sure that I wouldn't cry every time a baby was born. I went into the cut and dry of surgical floor nursing and then to emergency medicine where I have spent more than a decade.

"Call the Midwife" is more than strong women in the poor conditions of London's East End in the 50's and 60's. It is about finding faith in  your work, about friendship and love; losses suffered on a personal nature and ones suffered because you are in the same room. It is about standing up for patient's rights, for women having a voice in a time when they weren't supposed to, and about building your own identity from the ground up.

I had a conversation with my teenage daughter after she mentioned how much the show makes me cry. She said "maybe you get so emotional since you had a c-section instead of giving birth?" She sent this in a text from her room and I was glad of it, because I sat there crying again. Yes, maybe it was that. My body robbed me of that moment to see her after all the hard work I had done. 20 hours of labor, 6 hours of pushing, a failed epidural when it was time for surgery and having to have general anesthetic which left me unconscious for over 8 hours. Everyone in the family and all the staff had seen my baby before me. It is truly the only regretted moment of my life. The rest I chalk up to experience, but I missed the one perfect moment in life a mother can be given.

"You have to be brave to be in love, don't you? Knowing your heart will get broken at sometime."

This was a line from the show and it struck me so terribly hard. I sat there nodding, because it is one of the truest things I have ever heard. My heart has been broken so many times. My poor heart spent so much time on my sleeve where people could abuse it and do with it what they wanted. This last year has been sad and somewhat loveless for me. The bond with my daughter the only thing that got stronger besides the will to find myself again. Life is about the chances you take, about dealing with the consequences of your choices, and learning from the mistakes as much as the triumphs.

Never be afraid to dream big and fall short. Get back up again and do it all over. Cherish those small, perfect moments in life...never take them for granted. Don't let the world distract you from the daily wins and the opportunity to open new doors.

Thanks for reading
Aleathia

Walking by Henry David Thoreau

Aleathia says:

My whole life has been built around the adventures in books. When we are young we don't have the ability to travel to far lands, but we have the imagination--wild and verdant--to fly there in our minds. Giving a child the give of reading and a love of books means you give them the opportunity to soak in cultures they don't have access to and understand the world in a different way.

Over the years I have made a game out of reading books...what country do I want to go to? Judging a book by its cover. Reading full collections. Trying to complete all the Pulitzer winners for fiction. These were joyful, adventurous times. I learned a lot. Several years ago when everyone started dying in my family, I lost that imagination. I lost that love of reading. In all seriousness, I was lucky if I could concentrate for more than 10 minutes. My brain was a continual three ring circus I couldn't stop from spinning out of control.

On my side table, I have about 7 books that were started over the last few years and left to sit collecting dust instead of having their words devoured. This year I take my imagination back. I take the books back. I become that explorer I remember being.

The first book finished for 2018 is "Walking" by Henry David Thoreau. I found this book recently at the Library Book Sale and though I had promised myself I wasn't going to indulge on too many books since my attic was full of ones unread, I decided to get this little gem. 60 small pages. What could it hurt?

I have always been interested in Thoreau and Emerson. Both so outspoken for the things of their heart no matter what anyone thought in return.  When you don't live your life like that or have the understanding how, people who do become these unicorns of society. I have always been drawn to a few periods in American History and the 1860-1910 is one that continues to find its way into my heart. The country in Civil War, people standing up for what they believe in, and the great migration West. How I love the look and sound of the Victorian age, but also the rugged, strong faces of pioneers.

Thoreau's "Walking" starts out as a tome about getting outside and seeing the surroundings...about pushing the comfortable boundaries of the time. As this small book ends, it is more about seeking to stay wild at heart, to find adventure, to feel the sun on your face, to look at what nature has given us. This book was written shortly before Thoreau died and knowing this makes the book feel like a deathbed lesson; a pleading to the generations to come to get it right.

"When I would recreate myself, I seek the darkest wood, the thickest and most interminable, and, to the citizen, most dismal swamp. I enter a swamp as a sacred place, --a sanctum sanctorum. There is the strength, the marrow of Nature."

These places we have paved over and put up buildings for people to trade stocks in, to consume home goods and frivolities. I am guilty of using these places. We go there seeking some sort of soul reparation that we don't seem to find when we'd be better walking into the woods, hiking in the desert, swimming in the ocean. That is where we will find the peace we are looking for. How easy it is to forget these things in the bustle of life.

"In short, all good things are wild and free."

Thanks for reading.
Aleathia

Yoga Camp Day 2 and Day 3

Aleathia says:

I'm pretty excited that I have made it three consecutive days to the mat. I am usually pretty gung ho about starting things and not so great about finishing. I have a bit the complacent/lazy gene if things don't seem to be moving along as I would like. I have enlisted the help of my friend Annette who is going on this journey with me. Sometimes things are better with buddies.

Yoga Day 2 had the affirmation of "I Create" and in good fashion the instructor left it up to each student to decide what exactly they wanted to create for themselves at that moment, in that practice. I decided that I needed to create space. All of my muscles are bunched together and I have felt really buried and closed in lately. Thinking about wide open space was the right choice. 

This practice was a longer one lasting about an hour. It was full of forward bends and side twists and activating abdominal muscles. When a person is grossly overweight in the abdominal area and has had rheumatoid arthritis since 16, doing forward bends is akin to having your spin ripped out and putting your abdominal rolls in a vice. It made me very sweaty and I felt emotionally challenged that I had let myself go this long. I discovered muscles I forgot I had and ones that I wished had remained anonymous. But when I was done I was warm and felt taller and accomplished.

Yoga Camp Day 3 put forth the affirmation of "I Embrace". Thinking about all the unrest that is happening at work and how painful it is to go there most nights because of clashing personalities, I decided to embrace loving-kindness.  The idea of loving-kindness is very prevalent in Buddhism and it is something I try to work on all the time. I don't always succeed, but I do try to bring it to each day. I don't believe I have ever thought about embracing loving-kindness while doing a yoga practice and being present with that idea that I will not only embrace it for other people but embrace it for myself. I am often my own worst enemy in this life.

After three days of yoga and affirmations, I have found that I feel lighter in spirit. My muscles feel longer and the subtle soreness in the core and shoulders linger to give a gentle reminder of what I am out to achieve. I know I haven't lost any weight, but I feel skinnier. Sometimes lifting that barrier in the mind is more powerful that we can understand while it is happening. I am not sure what I will feel like at the end of this journey, but for now, I feel great.

Thanks Annette for going on this journey with me even though we are practicing in different places at different times. I keep your friendship with me as I'm moving through poses I think I can't do.

Aleathia

It's Ok to Be Weak

Aleathia says:

It has been a long time since I have posted.  There have been too many recent deaths, too many sicknesses in this house, and only so much energy for life to go around.  I have been pushing through and most everyone around me has not seen the deep and uncentered pain that runs my daily activity. Hanging around the theater department as a teenager afforded me great abilities at hiding behind a created character.

My father has been gone three months and I miss our phone calls every week.  I miss the sound of his impatience to get off the phone after 15 minutes which I always knew was an effort despite his love for me.  I miss his laugh.  Grieving his loss has been easier than my mother's.  He had a funeral and I got to spend some time with family who missed him just as much as me and who would remember all the wonderful things he taught them over their lives.  I got to say goodbye.  I was able to start that healing process in a positive way.

I woke up one day last month and realized that I had not allowed myself to grieve my mother's death. For two years I have been dragging my heart through the mud.  I have pretended to hate her and to be "relieved" she was gone.  I had such a hard time understanding her sudden death without a coroner's report or being able to say goodbye. There was so much about the ending that was disconnected, so much more I wanted to say to her.  Mostly, I wanted to tell her I loved her one more time.

I woke up knowing that I had to tell myself that I hated her to save my own life.  I could not let my heart feel that unsurmountable pain of loss.  I lost my mother at 40.  We had so much more history to make and wounds to heal and laughter to put out into the universe.  I can see now that I was protecting myself from her death.  It was the longest, darkest denial I have ever put myself through and I thank the heavens that I made it to the other side.

I am pulling down this wall brick by brick.  I wrote her the yearly letter I promised I would write.  I let myself cry for the loss of her when it comes over me without hatred or guilt.  I am not weak, but losing my mother nearly broke me.  No one really noticed I was dying inside, that I hated myself and life, that I didn't care too much if I woke up or not.  I'm glad that darkness is lifted.  I let myself be tired now.  I let my heart ache.  I let myself feel the love from my family and friends.

It has been a lonely two years and I did it to myself.  I am my toughest critic and have always been.

I am writing this post today for people who are going through a loss and a heavy grief.  Reach out to those people that love you.  They will love you through this ugly time; they will wipe your tears; they will hold your hand without judgment.  Don't go through it alone. Ask for help. No one is truly alone in the world.

Thank you to my love, Michael, for quietly waiting until I was ready to deal with life.  To my dear Chloe for being sensitive and for hugs when you just knew I needed them.  To my friends who listen and let me work things out at my own pace.  You are all dear to me.  This blog is going to be on an upswing from now on.  It has been hard to write them knowing my father wouldn't be reading them, but it is time to let that go too.

Stay tuned for a new blog on Helen Frankenthaler.  It is gonna be pretty.

Aleathia

4/22/2015 When is Your House a Home? and more poems.

Aleathia says:

We have lived in this house for over a year.  I loved it the moment I stepped inside with all it's early 20th century charm, dark wood detail, French doors, and gorgeous view.  It screamed home and possibility to me.  I liked that it was lived in by generations of one family.

Since we have lived here we have made friends with the neighbors and gotten to know the good and bad parts of the neighborhood.  We have fallen in love with the river again as we see it everyday burgeoning with the hills behind.  At night we can see stars and the tracts of lights in the city.  We have enjoyed the 5 minute walk downtown to any event we choose or to just window shop.  We get more date nights being able to leave the car in the driveway.

The other day Michael brought up something very interesting that I had not really thought of.  He mentioned that both of us have spent our lives living in apartments since we went out on our own. This consists of white walls and fixtures and amenities beyond your control.  There is no landscaping or upkeep.  You pay your money and leave the space the way the owner wants it until you move on to the next place.

Both of us have done very little to this house.  We have not painted yet or fixed the plaster.  We haven't started upgrading any of the rooms.  The upstairs needs a lot of overhaul as it is the oldest part of the house.   The carpets look like they are from 1970 and the wall colors too:  baby blue, mint green, and oh dear sweet Jesus peach.  The kitchen still has 80's wallpaper and the master bathroom is grandma pink.  None of these things speak to our personalities.  Why haven't we changed anything?

I have had some time to think about this since it was presented to me and I think I know why.  First of all, we aren't used to the freedom of being able to change the environment in a drastic way.  Then there is the sheer enormity of things that need to be done versus the things that we would like to get done.  They cost money, but mostly they cost time.  Our schedules do more conflicting than anything these days which makes it hard to think about starting a big project.

Having a home also requires understanding who you are as an individual and who you are as a partner.  Having a home is much like starting a new relationship.  There is the honeymoon period where everything is awesome and you feel invincible which slowly gives way to something more livable and comfortable....something that needs re-inventing every so often.  Michael and I have lived together for nearly 4 years, but the bulk of that was in the apartment.  It is hard to understand a person's aesthetic in a place that is sterile and unchangeable.

Now we have lived in the house for almost a year and a half and the patterns of who we are are starting to emerge better.  This is our place, not my place where he moved in to.  We each have our OCD problems and sometimes they overlap.  Most of the time we have to laugh about them and find creative solutions on where to put things.

Last week we started making changes.  We had all the existing items left over from the previous owners hauled away in addition to garbage that we created over the winter.  Michael ripped out a 20 foot section of wood and saw horses to reveal a dirt floor that needed filling and most likely the source of the musty/moldy smell in the basement.  He started fixing up his workshop.  I am letting go of old items and slowly changing them out for upgrades in the style of my choosing.  We have made plans to landscape the yard and he is going to build me a garden box for the spring.  It feels good to be finding our way, to be growing together.  This grace period where we did nothing has helped to let ideas set in and take root.  I look forward to a productive summer.


Here are some more poems from the month.  I have fallen gravely behind:

Honest Abe

for Cat

We have never met
or even talked on the phone
but somehow we can see ourselves
as neighbors; the kind of neighbor
that shares sugar and kids stories
and heartache over a sewing machine.

The other day she told me
she wished I lived closer
so we could make every dish
that President Lincoln ever cooked.

Inside I smiled like a schoolgirl
making a new friend, smiled
for being accepted into a secret,
as I have admired her style
and conviction and her lack of compromise
concerning ideals in the face of society.

I can see us in the kitchen
with our handmade aprons
and complicated recipes
discussing the merits
of Honest Abe over
great coffee and the sound
of heart felt laughter.

Aleathia Drehmer 2015

April 14, 2015

Straightening

In the still parts
of the night
the smell of the hot
iron comforts the anxiety
flashing through neurons.

The steam lifts up
as the heat makes
geometrics and flowers
smooth like magic.

It is perfection
                         back and forth
steam and heat
                         back and forth
steam and heat
straightening
   my soul
for sleeping.

Aleathia Drehmer 2015

April 15, 2015

Swing Spider, Swing

When she died
I went back
to the park
where my laughter
still lived in the trees.

I used to climb
the giant dome
and she never
seemed afraid
for me, though
I trembled inside
scared of being
a disappointment.

Sometimes she would
let me sit on her lap
our legs in opposite directions
like a spider, she would say,
and we would fly so high
and the world would fade
into sky and birds and trees
and invincible laughter.

When she died
I went back
to the park
where my laughter
still lived in the trees.

Aleathia Drehmer 2015

April 17, 2015