Being the best that you can be

Simple

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 1 Comment

I am too busy to put something up today so I thought I would leave you with a story I wrote in 1999.

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Two years ago when my family moved to the Midwest, we did so in search of a “simpler” life. After burning the candles at both ends, we felt it was time to slow down. We wanted to have the time to stop and smell the roses, and to enjoy the “simple” things in life. I thought I knew what those “simple” things were until we met Boone during a mountain trek while in Thailand.

Boone was 33 years old then. Gracious and quiet, he used to be a sustenance farmer. In his village he eked out a meager living cultivating rice and growing vegetables. His was a simple life, yet Boone wanted more. He wanted more than to just sustain himself, he wanted to have some money set aside for a rainy day. So Boone gave up farming and he dedicated his life to learning how to speak English in an effort to improve his life. Now he leads jungle treks for foreign tourists who pay a lot of money to forget their busy lives and experience the “simple life” of the hill tribe people in Northern Thailand.

I got to know Boone very well on our two day trek and I think he got to know me better than he wanted to as he carried my pack for most of the trek. I would like to say that I lead the group due to Boone’s pack carrying generosity. I can’t. He carried my pack in hopes that I would arrive at the remote village sometime within the same week as the others in the group. Going straight up mountains and then straight down did terrible things to my knees and by the end of the day I was beginning to think that knee replacement surgery sounded like fun; if it involved being evaced out by helicopter.

That night while sitting around the campfire in the thatched roof village, Boone and I discussed his former “simple” way of life. I asked him about the concerns that idealistic academics have expressed about the hill people losing their culture and their “simple” ways of life due to the lure of money from Westerners.

“They think we have a “simple” life,” said Boone. “Those people should try to live such a life. What is “simple” about trying to keep your children fed on a daily basis? What is “simple” about having no money for clothes or to send your child to school? What is simple about watching a loved one die because you cannot afford proper medical care?” Boone told me that everyone wants a better life, a color TV and a satellite dish so they can learn about and discover the world in an effort to improve theirs.

Early the next morning when the rooster sounded the alarm, as I lay on the grass floor, every muscle in spasm, I contemplated my “simpler” life. Money could not buy me a cool breeze when I desperately needed it on the top of that mountain. It could not stop my heart from racing nor quell an aching thirst. Yet, money was able to buy me something else. Understanding. An understanding of why people risk life and limb to come to the United States or other nations in search of a “simpler” life. Never again will I just listen to the put-downs of those who criticize our new citizens who haven’t yet learned their new language. Because for them getting here was the battle. The language is just a minor skirmish.

Isn’t it ironic that wile the people of the so-called “third world” are attempting to “simplify” their lives many of us in the states are attempting to do so, only from the opposite end of the spectrum. In truth, maybe simplifying is really just letting go of old beliefs, allowing new possibilities to enter our lives and stopping to smell the roses. Or maybe, it’s as Boone said. Maybe it’s as “simple” as a new color TV, satellite dish and a little money saved for a rainy day.

Fences- A Positive Post

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 4 Comments

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Yesterday Paul needed to get some service hours in for Scouts. He elected to paint the fence at our church. It was hot and the fence sat square in the path of the intense rays of the scorching sun. Six hours spent working in the sun is difficult for anyone but even more so for a young autistic teenage boy with no previous painting experience. Fortunately, one of the older members of our congregation (R) was there to provide guidance and cheer him on.

I love it when old and young connect. There is something almost magical that happens when wisdom meets youth. Learning occurs in an unstructured setting and life’s lessons are conveyed easily. More importantly, both parties share those things that are important to them and greater understanding of the world and each other is obtained by both.

When he arrived home Paul was stoked and could hardly wait to tell me about his afternoon. But it wasn’t the fence he talked about. It was the connection that he made that mattered the most to him.

“Did you know that R served in the Korean War?” my sweet Korean boy asked.

“I had no idea,” I replied.

And so Paul sat with me and excitedly told me all that R had shared with him. Things about the war, what the country of Paul’s birth looked like back then, and how his life had changed because of his service. They also talked about what boys did growing up in the 40’s, how times have become more complicated and R’s ideas about the important things in life. But most of all Paul gained a friend. A man who could teach and discuss without being parental. A person with whom Paul could relate his troubles regarding peers in school and his concerns for the world as he navigates becoming a young adult.

It’s funny how sometimes in doing things for others you gain something special and totally unexpected for yourself.  This weekend Paul learned from R the value of a friendship with someone older and wiser than himself. He learned to share problems and issues and listen to good advice in return. And more than just learning about how to paint fences he was also taught how to mend a few too.

 

 

 

 

Damn I’m Good-A Positive Post

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 4 Comments

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I love the color red. It’s bright, invigorating and screams out “LOOK AT ME!” like a three year-old having an intense but satisfying tantrum. Yes, red is a color that begs to be both seen and heard.

I have never had much red in my life even though I love it’s sass.I tend toward colors that live life in a predictable fashion, steady and neutral ones, which when I think about it, describe me perfectly. They are the familiar and comfortable colors. They represent things like  grilled cheese and soup on a warm winters day. Nothing fancy and nothing too far “out there.” Just reliable go-with-anything colors that you can count on to get you through life.

This week I decided that the house needed a facelift so I bought a gazillion of those cans of paint samples trying to find the perfect hue with which to paint my shutters. There were forest greens, navy blues, and soft grays. Yellow was out but black remained on the list. With the amount I spent on samples I could have bought several gallons of paint but it was important to find the “perfect” color. Just for kicks I decided to try a red on for size and surprised myself when I decided to paint those shutters a kiss-me-once-more shade of RED.

Now I think I have shared with you that I am desperately afraid of heights. Terrified. And the shutters are mostly on the second story which would necessitate crawling out on the roof to get the job done. Now B would have eventually gotten around to it if I had asked but frankly his painting sucks. Drips everywhere. Streaks galore. Whereas I am a painting pro who doesn’t even need to tape off because I have such a steady hand. I am a Leondardeschi of the da Vinci gang. But up on the roof? Heaven help me. Even I had my limits…or so I thought.

So it was with trepidation yesterday morning that I eased myself out of my daughter’s second story window and stood out on top of the roof, the sun scorching my delicate skin, while I scrapped, prepped, and painted eight shutters. And if I do say so myself the change looks great. But it is not the exterior change that is important; it is the interior one I made inside of myself that is significant as well as meaningful to me. Because once again I conquered my fears and I accomplished something that made me feel positively giddy. I did what made me happy and was not afraid to transform things just a bit. And if the truth be told, painting the shutters became symbolic of something even greater. It spoke of my belief in the longevity and eventual recovery of my relationship with B because I wouldn’t have risked life and limb on the roof of a house that I wouldn’t be living in in the future. Amen.

Looking For The Good-Positive Post #2

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 1 Comment

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The other night B and I were out taking our usual late night walk. It was a beautiful evening, cool and crisp, for this area of the country. The moon shone bright and the stars were singing the Twinkle song. Everything was perfect…except… where was the sparkle between us?

About mid-way through this jaunt we stepped into a quiet and very dark place where I told B, “I think that instead of concentrating on all the characteristics I don’t possess or all the things you feel are missing from this relationship, perhaps it would make us happier if we both looked for the good in one another.”

“That’s funny,” replied B. “That is exactly what my therapist said tonight and she gave me some homework to do in this area.”

Instantly we reached for each others hand, reemerged, and continued walking along.  Immediately I got that sense that both of us realized that by looking for the best in each other, instead of the worst, things felt immediately different. Better. For while you are in the dark there is nothing to see, but when you change perspective and step into the moonlight, the sparkle returns, and you can begin to be able to shine once more.

You Are Your Own Images

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 2 Comments

So yesterday I went to see my therapist and read her yesterday’s piece titled Parolee. She responded that the images we see in these scenes are all us and that we often put those images on our significant others. In other words, I am both the Parolee and the Parole Officer. And that the harsh officer in that scene… is really me… for I am so harsh with myself and my own worst critic. In addition, I am my own jailer and am angry at myself for being that.

This is going to take some time to digest but I think she may be on to something.

In the meantime my therapist has urged me to spend the next week writing positive pieces about myself and my life. No divorce pieces. No negativity. Just happiness, butterflies, and unicorns. So I have decided to try.

I hope I have the imagination and stomach for it. Hope you do too!

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Just Sit With It…Or What If I Just Shut Up?!

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 3 Comments

 

So I decided to try just sitting with it this weekend when B and I had 24 hours together. It is hard for me to do because I want answers now, but that said, for the most part I just sat with what is. Sure we had a small talk in which I told him he was damn lucky he had me and that he had better make sure that whatever was looking good on the other side of the fence better be because there were no second chance come backs. Once over it is over forever. His response, “Don’t throw out the baby with the bathwater.” So I didn’t, stopped talking, just sat with things and just had a wonderful 24 hours where we had sizzling sex, hiked in the mountains and visited an ancient Native American site along a creek.

I guess this picture looks like I am peeing a river but it really just me laying by it!

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Just sitting with something is difficult. It means not trying to force the issue. Not trying to make things the way you want at all costs. It means you just watch, wait and listen and see what comes to you without anyone involved in the equation while you are sitting. You take time to ponder, weigh all evidence and then don’t act. You just sit with it. For someone like me who takes the bull by the horns and goes into IEP’s and gets what my kids need, well, “inaction” is the opposite of everything I am.

One thing we have decided to do after this weekend is to try to find a different marriage counselor. B will stick with our present couples counselor and will start seeing her alone and I will continue with mine. And while I am pleased that he will be getting individual counseling sometimes I just think that things seem worse with all this counseling going on. Maybe we should just quit. But I don’t think that is an option at this point. I just wish it wasn’t all so hard and try to imagine a day when it isn’t.

Another thing we have done is signed up for a Marriage Encounter weekend in May. This is a Catholic retreat for couples whose relationships are challenged. I am not Catholic so this will be somewhat of a challenge to me. B was raised Catholic for the first 10 years of his life and when he parents were divorced they were forced to leave the church. He is still carrying some of the Catholic guilt with him today.

So all in all, I think sitting with it this weekend was a success. Of course, this means NOT talking about the nitty-gritty or getting into serious discussions. And it felt good not to do that as it feels like that is all we have been doing lately which is making things worse thanks to hurt feelings, sad conversations and misunderstandings. Just shutting up for a while and not saying what was on my mind seemed to help both of us have a lovely time with one another but does this mean I need to go get my jaw wired shut for us to be happy?

JUST SIT WITH IT…another ink perhaps..I think I will just sit with that one for a little while.

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Conquering Fears

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 3 Comments

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Today I did something that made me uncomfortable and in the process  I semi-conquered two of my fears. If we measure our days by doing things that provoke discomfort by intentionally facing down our fears; then there are very few precious days during our lives that we get to experience the elation that comes when we find that our fears really weren’t so scary after all. Oh, the power we give to things that don’t deserve it!

All my life I have been afraid of two things…heights and relinquishing control to others. Both make me break out in a sweat and I have spent way too much time giving these fears too big of a place in my life. I have avoided, rejected, over-analyzed and spent time over- compensating for those things (fear,control) that have had me tied up in knots.But not this afternoon. Today I made a change.

After spending eight hours visiting  and cooperating with a doctor, I promised my son that he could do something special. Turns out the thing he wanted to do was indoor skydiving. Frankly, it sent shivers up my spine and after his broken ankle this summer I feared a repeat. I really wanted to say NO but didn’t.

Yet, once inside the facility something strange came over me. I decided that I WOULD FLY too, come hell or high water. After all, I rationalized, it would kill two fears with one stone…flying HIGH and RELINQUISHING CONTROL of my body to someone else. And even through it was expensive, I found I could justify it by invoking  rule #378 from the Book of Life “Do it if the price of a shrink will cost you more.”

Now, usually I deny myself these “opportunities” to stare down my fears in a multitude of ways. Lifetime favorites include:

  1. I say we can’t afford it and “save” money by siting on the sidelines watching everyone else partake.
  2. I believe my kids should have these types of opportunities and deny them to myself because … (go back to #1)
  3. I convince myself I am too fat, too skinny, too uncoordinated, too old, too young…or any other such thing that would cause the idea to come to a screeching halt.
  4. Hey, someone has to take the pictures… don’t they? Damn straight and I am the perfect person to do it!

So instead of “listening” to my usual playbook of excuses I plunked down my Visa and before I knew it the time came to suit up. This didn’t mean that there were not plenty of anxious moments in between. As I watched members of the group ahead of us fly I began to list all the reasons I shouldn’t be doing this in my head. This included such things as:

  1. At my age, all my wrinkles would be pushed back into my face and with little bit of collagen I have left… they just might become permanent.
  2. That money thing again.
  3. Broken bones scare me along with signing release of liability forms which emphasize dislocated shoulders and other rather painful injuries that may occur should I be stupid enough to do this.
  4. The thought that wetting my pants could cause a floating vortex of pee spinning around me and the instructor was terrifying. I mean at least in a swimming pool no one knows but this could prove problematic and I knew that should it happen it would be up on YOUTUBE in 2.4 seconds!
  5. I might kick the instructor unconscious and slam my body all the way up the glass only to be stuck at the top of the tunnel… kind of like Charlie of the Chocolate Factory fame.

Then, just as I was about to go and ask for my money back, Paul with all the exuberance of an 8 week-old puppy said, “Mom, I am so glad you are doing this with me. We will have so many memories of this time together that we can share for the rest of our lives!”

And that was when I had my AHH-HAA MOMENT. That is when I realized just how much I had let my fears hold me back from more than just myself but I had let them hold me back from creating memories with the people I love the most. And so I did it! I got in that flight suit, I put on those goggles, I put in the ear plugs and I strapped on that helmet….and I had a blast!  And for several minutes I didn’t care how high I went, if I broke something, or if I should have bought  Depends…I let myself be free and I willingly let someone else take over.

Now this doesn’t mean that I have entirely conquered my fears but I have got them roped and tied. From now on am going to make a conscious effort to get into the Game of Life and not just watch from the sidelines. I have vowed that once a year I will actively work to decrease the amount of influence a fear has on me. And who knows, maybe even sometime in the future I may just decide to jump out of a airplane …according to my 28 year-old Aussie accented instructor I am a natural at this sort of thing and I wouldn’t want to let him down!

 

On Making A Decision

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 7 Comments

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Recently I was reading about the effects on our body when we make a decision.  Besides solving problems decision making also has the added benefit of decreasing anxiety and worry. Because making a decision involves setting goals and creating intentional effects it engages the prefrontal cortex which reduces that anxiety you have been carrying around. And because decision making involves a shift in how you perceive the world when this shift happens in calms your limbic system creating a sense of tranquility.

Yet, what about all those times when making a decision feels like it involved two equally difficult or disastrous end points? Well, neuroscientists say to go ahead and “make a good enough” decision. Instead of trying to make the perfect decision “the good enough” decision will decrease stress and make you feel like you are more in control. In fact, just the act of making that decision will give your brain a pleasure boost so that skipping your way through the day seems like a real possibility instead of just dragging your butt somewhere.

So there you go. Make a “good enough” decision…stick with it…and you will find yourself under less stress and feeling good about yourself and your place in the world!

Books And Fear

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 5 Comments

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Every once in a while you read a book and think with a smile, shudder, or frown, “Hey, I know that character!”

A Man Called Ove was such a book for me. The main character, Ove, was really my father in disguise. He was a man I knew well and as I read further into the story gained insight into what kind of man my  real life father is and why he operates the way he does. Sometimes these discoveries made me happy and some made me sad but it brought to light things that I was able to put under the microscope and examine in a way that I had not been able to before. I have a real appreciation for books that are able to do that. Those books that can bring clarity into some part of our own lives are amazing. They contain stories teach us, provide insight and make us think of our own experiences in new and different ways. That kind of writing is rare and oh-so-special.

I am a good short story writer. That is why I write for magazines. But I dream of being a novelist. A good one. I dream of writing the type of book where it takes six months for you to get it after putting it on the reserved list at the library. A book that is meaningful. A novel with characters that the reader connects with from the first page and cry with at the last.

I have a half-dozen half-started novels in binders and on my computer. One day I would like to finish just one but I find that I have difficulty sustaining the thoughts/actions of my characters after many chapters. And so I stop. Thinking about them, developing them and challenging myself to work harder to figure out exactly who they are. Because I am afraid. Afraid to push myself harder. Afraid to commit. Afraid to find out who I am so I can find out who they are. Afraid of adding anything else to my plate.

I am afraid and I am ashamed of this fear for it is unlike me to tuck my tail between my legs and run. But run I do…I sprint back to the safety of what I do well instead of  walking towards the unknown outcome of my dreams.  I suffer for it and settle because of it. Fear binds me and wraps its chains around me and I don’t even struggle to break free.

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Mom’s List Two

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 1 Comment

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I don’t know about you but as a mom there seems to be some sort of invisible list that hangs over my head, flapping in the breeze to remind me of its presence. THE LIST consists of all the things my kids must do at least once so that I can check off one more box that assures me that I AM A GOOD MOM. Trying new food. The latest, purple broccoli….check. Yearly pictures at Sears…oops missed that one…but now that I am aware of that fact by next Tuesday it will be done…semi-check. Playing the piano…okay not ready for Carnegie Hall but does know where middle C is located…check.

Now B is the sports minded one in our family but because two of our three children get crazed if something as small as an ant touches them during recreational sports …trying to knock out the numerous athletic activities…well, its a challenge. If I had my druthers I would just scratch that whole section off THE LIST as several family members consider high quality endurance sports akin to laying on the couch and dipping ruffled potato chips into dip. (the endurance part comes when you have to turn the chip around and dip again being careful not to double-dip) But I have a fear that scratch outs might just not get you into heaven so I persist in introducing my kids to new sports knowing in my heart of hearts that is what all GOOD moms do. This is what lead us to the Gateway Ice Skating rink yesterday afternoon where the kids attempted ice skating for the first time. It was, needless to say, an EPIC FAILURE!

 I will admit that sometimes it seems as though it takes a while for my kids to get comfortable with new activities. First we have to check out each and every toilet in the entire facility. If the seat is comfortable then my kids might give it a try. If not, we are OUTTA there.

Next comes that vending machines. If they have anything gluten free and casesin free then no matter what comes next the day will be considered a success until they actually have to do it.

Finally, throw in a 16 yo cashier who is making minimum wage but will answer every one of the 20,000 questions through at them about the history of the sport, the equipment used and the rules of the sport, then participation is a definite maybe. Better yet, if the cashier can quote numerous safety statstics; then its a go. Yes, even contemplating sports can be an exhausting endeavor.

So after spending 1/2 hour tying and re-typing the skates, using the bathroom…again… and learning to walk on blades the time had come for the kids to make their way onto the ice. If, as the old adage goes, you can smell fear; then the fumes around our family was the pungent odor that follows you about three hours after eating grandma’s chili. You just couldn’t shake it. Feet started going every which way but forward and the sound of buttoms slapping the ice…HARD… reverberated throughout the arena. To top it off, I pulled my back out trying to hold up one child while falling down with another. Mom was done and judging from the little faces surrounding me, the vending machine owner was about to become a very rich man.

Paul put a brave face on and after once around decided taking his hands off the railing was more to his liking.Gracie whined until her daddy escorted her like the princess she is around the rink. But I knew all was lost in regards to Andre when he spent 1/2 hour going 1/2 around the rink with his toes turned in towards the wood paneling the entire time. Never have a seen a child so happy as when he took his blades off the ice. After exiting the rink he looked up at me and said, “Well, those were absolutely the worst minutes I have ever spent in my entire life!” And needless to say,  his assessment didn’t get any better until B bought hot chocolate.

Later, on the way home, Andre talked about the experience. His take? “Well, I am glad that is over. I did it once, it’s a NO GO and thank goodness I will never have to do that again. Now, mom, what else can we cross of your list of things I have to do?”

“What list?”

“You know, the one that you have that makes me try everything for my own good even though we both know I am going to hate it. So really, this list is really about you. Why don’t we just leave it at that!”

And with that he was done. But I’m not. I want to know how he knew about THE LIST!