~Sam~
12-27-2004, 06:19 PM
My hands were still shaking as I lit my cigarette and made myself comfortable in the car. Smiling to myself, I uncorked the bottle of Plum Wine I had brought with us and took a long sip of summer flowers.
"Hoo-hoo!"
There was no mistaking that voice, it belonged to my Dad. He had witnessed my showdown with the In-Laws at the dinner table, and although he's been long gone these past 17 years, his tone of voice was quite clear. He was pleased, excited and had obviously taken great delight in my actions.
Yes, it was Christmas. Yes, I know... Peace on Earth, Goodwill towards men...
What a Crock of Crap. It reminds me of those folk my grandmother used to call; "Creeping Jesus's". Those who behave in whatever way they want, go to confession on Saturday, creep into mass on Sunday... and then go out and have at it the rest of the week until next Saturday and then do it again.
Call it a Party... this seasonal release valve. I'm always up for a party. But it doesn't make me feel good to hold the hope for peace and goodwill in my heart for less than a day and go about thinking I've done something wonderful... and then forget all about those feelings and wishes the very next day.
But, that's not my reason for writing today. Although I did get into the spirit of thinking about those I was gifting by walking through their lives to see what would improve the quality there of... and the gifts were commented on with words like; "Marsha must have been reading our minds to have thought of this..."
Or so Ken tells me. Cause I was wrapped in a throw, keeping Cody company out in the car. Smokin' and drinkin' and singin' my throat raw to the oldies on the radio. I was FREE !!!
There's an old saying that goes; "The difference between men and women is this: Women forgive but never forget... and Men forget but never forgive." Or something like it. I usually get things bass ackwards on things such as this, but it isn't about forgiveness or forgetting either...
This showdown has been brewing for 28 years. The reasons on both sides are perfectly understandable, and the thinly covered feelings of dislike and disapproval have always been amply clear to me.
And face it folks... I'm not the kind of girl that a mother likes to see her son bring home for dinner.
I've tried to behave myself in their polite company for years... never succeeded, because once a person sees you in a certain way, you become that person to them, and nothing you do or say will Ever convince them otherwise.
So... this Xmas family visit... I went as myself, only as the 'myself' as they thought of me. And the thoughts that have been slapping me square in my center of understanding... thoughts that I tried to Not hear, but were so loud and clear that they were unavoidable over the years... became a deliberate act of guerilla theater on my part.
It must be because I'm getting close to sixty, because this Xmas has been unmarred by stress of any kind. Well, except for my hands shaking after me storming out of the house...
We had been sitting at the dinner table... I was sitting next to my niece who was asking about what kind of plant she wanted for her room. She needs more oxygen, she said.
At that same table... she was being accosted by a philodendron plant vine which was hanging directly in front of her face. We began talking about how to start the plant and how to take care of it. My sister-in-law told her that you just take a pinching of the vine and put it in water to root it... then when it grows roots, you put it into a container with potting soil.
My niece got that blank look about her, so I took hold of the end of the vine that was in her face ... very gently ... to pinch off the end to show her where the root buds were on the vine ... and all hell broke loose.
I looked up from what I was doing... incredulous. Gazing from my mother-in-law's eyes to my father-in-law's eyes, I sat back and took a deep breath...
"You know folks, I've reached an age where I don't appreciate advice anymore than you do." I said quietly.
"Excuse Me!" mom spits.
I repeated what I had said very clearly, then added; "For almost 29 years I have been coming here to face your judgement and disapproval. When I got ill, I overheard; 'Should we boil her dishes or throw them away?' I said a few things more, silently cautioned everyone else that this was between me and mom and dad and to stay out of it. They did.
When I glanced over at Ken, it was the first time I saw the look he was wearing. This look told me that whether I was right or wrong, he respected my right to say what I felt. First Time! It was elevating... what a good feeling. The look meant he understood that he didn't have to take sides... and he didn't. He didn't judge me, he didn't think that I wanted him to hate his parents and come home with me Right Now...
He simply respected my right to be the person whom I am.
Knowing and feeling this, I cut short the tirade my mother-in-law was on; "Imagiane, being cursed at in my own home on Christmas by a guest!!!" (No one was going to jump in on her side either... everyone knew this was coming for years.)
So, I calmly stood up, grabbed my bottle of wine and my jacket and left with these parting words:
"Well, I'll never be a guest here again. Let's face it, this should have been done years ago. You don't like me... I don't like you... Good-bye."
And with that I was gone.
Cody was certainly glad for my company. We watched the moon rise. We took a walk to go pee. He listened as I spoke to my ancestors.
I spoke first to my Grandparents, but I felt that even the Great greats were with me, so I greeted them and continued; "You know guys, this is not about being right or wrong. Yes, you made mistakes on the path you were on... but who doesn't? Did you think that I thought more of these people than I did of my own? No, I never did. I always felt that I had to be someone else when I came here, and that just doesn't work for me. You might have been hard on me... after all the truth is very rarely greeted with joy. But your keeping me on the edge has prepared me for this life. You told me truths... and even though those truths hurt me... I stood up to you and refused to be anyone but myself.
"There isn't a right way and wrong way. There is the way that works for you. It's all different, but it's all the same. I'm a very small part of the workings of the universe... but I am a part of it. Here I am, sitting in a cold car on the surface of a small planet... and you are within the curled up hug of the family in a parallel dimension... far out."
Then I dropped by our farm to mind touch my critters. I had been telling them of our day trip, where we'd be going, and when we'd be home for a couple of days and everyone was cool with it. During our drive up, I briefly told them where we were and what we were doing and asked if they were ok.
Brief too, was this touch. Everyone was fine. But, then I got to thinking about the growth and togetherness that's been happening with me and my boys.
Cody, Raven and Kai... my boys. A totally new experience for me, I guess for them too. When I chose to become an animal husbander, I asked myself what I wanted from a potential relationship with a horse. With a dog and a goat, I thought I already knew... but things change. Opinions are influenced by those who share your life.
And this is the conclusion I'm left with at this time: I wish my animals to be themselves. I want to give them the freedom to develop into the best selves they are capable of becoming... with some restraint.
Now the word Restraint here becomes synonymous with respect. Respect for personal space. Becoming aware of those around you and your relationship to where you're both standing on the ground. In other words... being sentient. Being responsive to or conscious of sense impressions... AWARE... Finely sensitive in perception or feeling.
In more clear words; Hauling yourself back into line before you hurt someone. And that was my lesson of this Xmas Night... Be yourself by all means... but exercise some form of restraint. This philosophy has been sneaking up on me in my daily rounds. And when I look at our situation here on the farm, I smile because everyone is happy. I don't try to make them into animals who snap-to when I shout a command... hell, I don't like commands. But I do want them to pay attention to what's going on... I want them to have one ear on me when I'm walking with them... I want them to behave in a safe manner for all concerned.
This word; 'respect'... with all of its meanings and inuendos, has become a part of this year's end self exam. I am so very reminded of the arguments that hillbilly and I had a couple of years ago...
And it's to hhb whom I take my hat off to. Oh, we went round and round with our words and never could find common ground. But life Is; Everything in Its Own Time, and this is my time for somewhat understanding what respect is.
Maybe I should say that I began by defining what respect isn't. A person doesn't automatically earn someone's respect by being old. You can get old without ever doing anything of value. You can't earn someone's respect by becoming what they are or what they want you to become. You can't respect yourself for not having the guts to be yourself. You can't earn respect from other's by saying words and phrases you've read in a book... they aren't your words. Respect is not fear. Well, in a certain phrase it is; "Having a healthy respect".
I've come to think respect is liking someone for who they are, and being able to totally accept them for all the good and all the bad which they hold within themslves. It's not looking at someone and saying to yourself; "If only you didn't do thus and so... or if only you wouldn't do that, I would like you more completely."
For good or bad, I find that I respect myself for daring to speak the truth even if it hurt. It was the truth. And after the fact, the painful truth is a whole lot easier to deal with than thinnly veiled social deception.
It's time again to get up from this chair and get on with my day. Ken and I are good with each other. We had a nice quiet holiday here by ourselves... but, the horses need to be let out, I have to do some laundry, and I just smoked my last cigarette.
You all have a good one.... Oh! The best gift? The gift of freedom to be yourself.
"Hoo-hoo!"
There was no mistaking that voice, it belonged to my Dad. He had witnessed my showdown with the In-Laws at the dinner table, and although he's been long gone these past 17 years, his tone of voice was quite clear. He was pleased, excited and had obviously taken great delight in my actions.
Yes, it was Christmas. Yes, I know... Peace on Earth, Goodwill towards men...
What a Crock of Crap. It reminds me of those folk my grandmother used to call; "Creeping Jesus's". Those who behave in whatever way they want, go to confession on Saturday, creep into mass on Sunday... and then go out and have at it the rest of the week until next Saturday and then do it again.
Call it a Party... this seasonal release valve. I'm always up for a party. But it doesn't make me feel good to hold the hope for peace and goodwill in my heart for less than a day and go about thinking I've done something wonderful... and then forget all about those feelings and wishes the very next day.
But, that's not my reason for writing today. Although I did get into the spirit of thinking about those I was gifting by walking through their lives to see what would improve the quality there of... and the gifts were commented on with words like; "Marsha must have been reading our minds to have thought of this..."
Or so Ken tells me. Cause I was wrapped in a throw, keeping Cody company out in the car. Smokin' and drinkin' and singin' my throat raw to the oldies on the radio. I was FREE !!!
There's an old saying that goes; "The difference between men and women is this: Women forgive but never forget... and Men forget but never forgive." Or something like it. I usually get things bass ackwards on things such as this, but it isn't about forgiveness or forgetting either...
This showdown has been brewing for 28 years. The reasons on both sides are perfectly understandable, and the thinly covered feelings of dislike and disapproval have always been amply clear to me.
And face it folks... I'm not the kind of girl that a mother likes to see her son bring home for dinner.
I've tried to behave myself in their polite company for years... never succeeded, because once a person sees you in a certain way, you become that person to them, and nothing you do or say will Ever convince them otherwise.
So... this Xmas family visit... I went as myself, only as the 'myself' as they thought of me. And the thoughts that have been slapping me square in my center of understanding... thoughts that I tried to Not hear, but were so loud and clear that they were unavoidable over the years... became a deliberate act of guerilla theater on my part.
It must be because I'm getting close to sixty, because this Xmas has been unmarred by stress of any kind. Well, except for my hands shaking after me storming out of the house...
We had been sitting at the dinner table... I was sitting next to my niece who was asking about what kind of plant she wanted for her room. She needs more oxygen, she said.
At that same table... she was being accosted by a philodendron plant vine which was hanging directly in front of her face. We began talking about how to start the plant and how to take care of it. My sister-in-law told her that you just take a pinching of the vine and put it in water to root it... then when it grows roots, you put it into a container with potting soil.
My niece got that blank look about her, so I took hold of the end of the vine that was in her face ... very gently ... to pinch off the end to show her where the root buds were on the vine ... and all hell broke loose.
I looked up from what I was doing... incredulous. Gazing from my mother-in-law's eyes to my father-in-law's eyes, I sat back and took a deep breath...
"You know folks, I've reached an age where I don't appreciate advice anymore than you do." I said quietly.
"Excuse Me!" mom spits.
I repeated what I had said very clearly, then added; "For almost 29 years I have been coming here to face your judgement and disapproval. When I got ill, I overheard; 'Should we boil her dishes or throw them away?' I said a few things more, silently cautioned everyone else that this was between me and mom and dad and to stay out of it. They did.
When I glanced over at Ken, it was the first time I saw the look he was wearing. This look told me that whether I was right or wrong, he respected my right to say what I felt. First Time! It was elevating... what a good feeling. The look meant he understood that he didn't have to take sides... and he didn't. He didn't judge me, he didn't think that I wanted him to hate his parents and come home with me Right Now...
He simply respected my right to be the person whom I am.
Knowing and feeling this, I cut short the tirade my mother-in-law was on; "Imagiane, being cursed at in my own home on Christmas by a guest!!!" (No one was going to jump in on her side either... everyone knew this was coming for years.)
So, I calmly stood up, grabbed my bottle of wine and my jacket and left with these parting words:
"Well, I'll never be a guest here again. Let's face it, this should have been done years ago. You don't like me... I don't like you... Good-bye."
And with that I was gone.
Cody was certainly glad for my company. We watched the moon rise. We took a walk to go pee. He listened as I spoke to my ancestors.
I spoke first to my Grandparents, but I felt that even the Great greats were with me, so I greeted them and continued; "You know guys, this is not about being right or wrong. Yes, you made mistakes on the path you were on... but who doesn't? Did you think that I thought more of these people than I did of my own? No, I never did. I always felt that I had to be someone else when I came here, and that just doesn't work for me. You might have been hard on me... after all the truth is very rarely greeted with joy. But your keeping me on the edge has prepared me for this life. You told me truths... and even though those truths hurt me... I stood up to you and refused to be anyone but myself.
"There isn't a right way and wrong way. There is the way that works for you. It's all different, but it's all the same. I'm a very small part of the workings of the universe... but I am a part of it. Here I am, sitting in a cold car on the surface of a small planet... and you are within the curled up hug of the family in a parallel dimension... far out."
Then I dropped by our farm to mind touch my critters. I had been telling them of our day trip, where we'd be going, and when we'd be home for a couple of days and everyone was cool with it. During our drive up, I briefly told them where we were and what we were doing and asked if they were ok.
Brief too, was this touch. Everyone was fine. But, then I got to thinking about the growth and togetherness that's been happening with me and my boys.
Cody, Raven and Kai... my boys. A totally new experience for me, I guess for them too. When I chose to become an animal husbander, I asked myself what I wanted from a potential relationship with a horse. With a dog and a goat, I thought I already knew... but things change. Opinions are influenced by those who share your life.
And this is the conclusion I'm left with at this time: I wish my animals to be themselves. I want to give them the freedom to develop into the best selves they are capable of becoming... with some restraint.
Now the word Restraint here becomes synonymous with respect. Respect for personal space. Becoming aware of those around you and your relationship to where you're both standing on the ground. In other words... being sentient. Being responsive to or conscious of sense impressions... AWARE... Finely sensitive in perception or feeling.
In more clear words; Hauling yourself back into line before you hurt someone. And that was my lesson of this Xmas Night... Be yourself by all means... but exercise some form of restraint. This philosophy has been sneaking up on me in my daily rounds. And when I look at our situation here on the farm, I smile because everyone is happy. I don't try to make them into animals who snap-to when I shout a command... hell, I don't like commands. But I do want them to pay attention to what's going on... I want them to have one ear on me when I'm walking with them... I want them to behave in a safe manner for all concerned.
This word; 'respect'... with all of its meanings and inuendos, has become a part of this year's end self exam. I am so very reminded of the arguments that hillbilly and I had a couple of years ago...
And it's to hhb whom I take my hat off to. Oh, we went round and round with our words and never could find common ground. But life Is; Everything in Its Own Time, and this is my time for somewhat understanding what respect is.
Maybe I should say that I began by defining what respect isn't. A person doesn't automatically earn someone's respect by being old. You can get old without ever doing anything of value. You can't earn someone's respect by becoming what they are or what they want you to become. You can't respect yourself for not having the guts to be yourself. You can't earn respect from other's by saying words and phrases you've read in a book... they aren't your words. Respect is not fear. Well, in a certain phrase it is; "Having a healthy respect".
I've come to think respect is liking someone for who they are, and being able to totally accept them for all the good and all the bad which they hold within themslves. It's not looking at someone and saying to yourself; "If only you didn't do thus and so... or if only you wouldn't do that, I would like you more completely."
For good or bad, I find that I respect myself for daring to speak the truth even if it hurt. It was the truth. And after the fact, the painful truth is a whole lot easier to deal with than thinnly veiled social deception.
It's time again to get up from this chair and get on with my day. Ken and I are good with each other. We had a nice quiet holiday here by ourselves... but, the horses need to be let out, I have to do some laundry, and I just smoked my last cigarette.
You all have a good one.... Oh! The best gift? The gift of freedom to be yourself.