Silence, Please! I'm Trying to Make Some Changes!

Sometimes, the changes you make in your own life are not nearly as difficult as getting everyone else to accept how your changes will change their life. I'm embarking on a new adventure, and even though it's taking place in my own home, while I sit behind my own computer, there is a downward shift in the amount of laundry, cooking and cleaning that I'm doing. The rest of the family is supposed to pick up the slack. Old habits die hard but no clean underwear jolts them back to their new reality.

Trying to work while my family carries on around me and without me is tough. I get up for a cup of tea and I'm very surprised that no one else notices that the faucets don't sparkle. Does anyone else care that the sink is full of coffee cups, plates and a knife still sticky with peanut butter? Apparently not. And since I've stopped picking up every single thing that they place on the kitchen counter every single time they walk in the house...car keys, mail, the pizza flyer that was hanging on our doorknob, over the counter sinus meds, the latest issues of Rolling Stone and AARP magazine (we're a diverse household), a Netflix movie that should have been returned 2 weeks ago, an empty gum pack and an empty Starbucks cup...it's beginning to look like a prop house for a bad sitcom.

The Type A voice that's locked inside of me is white knuckled and frantically banging on my brain with clenched fists. "Pick up the clutter, wipe down the counters and polish the faucets!" But that voice that puts my compulsive behavior on overdrive is drowned out by another voice that we all carry within us. It's the one that whispers "You can't!" over and over and over again when we step outside of our comfort zone and strive for bigger, better and not so easily attainable dreams. These two voices are competing for my attention.

I know that the little voice that says "you can't" can be silenced. I also know how hard it is. The voice is part of our survival instinct. It yells when we're too close to the rocky ledge and it persistently murmurs and whispers "stop" when we try to make changes in our life. That little voice loves the status quo.  But, we've got the edge.

The voice may be pesky and repetitive but it's not smart enough to know that some risks are worthwhile. We're the ones who are smart enough to know when to take meaningful risks and it never hurts to remind ourselves of that every day. It's no secret that I'm a big fan of repeating positive thoughts so we can banish the negative. I've been on a status quo life path for quite some time so I know it's going to take a while to shut down the negative voice that tells me that I can't accomplish my goals. Some days I manage to take  little steps and others day I make great big strides but I am expanding the boundaries of my life. My actions are proving that little voice wrong. I can do this.

Laugh Longer, Love Better.

I posed a question to an assortment of people:  my good friends who hold nothing back; acquaintances; the checker at Target who rang up my nail file and the cute pants that were on sale; my husband; my daughter's smitten boyfriend; and a waiter named Amir. The question? Why do couples stay together? God knows there are thousands of opinions on why people break up but I'm intrigued by what binds couples together. Why do they beat the odds when their marriages are shattered by infidelity or mucked up by messy finances that overshadow love  and affection? I'm curious to know why some couples can reignite after months or years of shuffling through cold ashes.

Laughter.
The common thread that stitched together every response was laughter. Even the young checker at Target, who had hair with streaks the color of Peeps, smiled and laughed when she said "men are the devil" but I'm willing to bet, by the time she becomes a blue haired old lady, she'll understand that it's that laughter that can keep a relationship alive.

After shouting and door slamming or agonizing silence and a cold shoulder instead of a warm embrace, laughter can prevail. A little too much insight into my own marriage? Maybe, but I'll let the sentence stand as is because I'm pretty sure most romantic partnerships go through the same thing.  My friend Natalie quotes her own mother when she says "Divorce? No. Murder? Maybe..."  Laughter's good and a morbid sense of humor is underrated.

How do we get to the laughing part? For me, there's something in my brain that eventually kicks in and overwhelms the anger or the complacency or the annoyance. It's like a switch that turns on light and positivity. I've learned to anticipate it and it's never let me down. It doesn't always happen right away but I've found that the lag time is needed to help me sort through the issues and look to my heart for forgiveness or understanding. My friend Stephanie says her husband better worry when, after a disagreement, she passes him in the hallway and she doesn't smile at him. She says she just can't help but smile when she sees him. That must be her own little switch clicking on and signalling that it's all going to be okay. That, and true love.

Make time for each other.
Connie says make time for just the two of you whether it be a walk by a creek or a romantic vacation. I agree. My husband and I decided, before we had children, to put our marriage before everything else. I love my children but without loving my husband I wouldn't make a good parent. We've always parented together and tried to present a united front. That's not always easy because parenting throws some pretty serious curve balls. It also wreaks havoc on romance so we always made sure to use the rare times both children were away to do something together rather than alone. A day on a lake, spent with my husband and an ice cold pitcher of margaritas, is a wonderful problem solver.

Look for perfection.
My daughter's boyfriend says staying together is "simple, just date the perfect girl." There's more to that statement than the idealism of the young. It takes work, but as our relationships age, it's essential to continue to look for the perfect in our partner. It's there-it's just hidden beneath the stress of the work week and the big and little tragedies that we all experience year in and year out.

Keep the bathroom door closed.
Yes, I'm going there. Before we were married we made a pact to keep some things private. I don't care what we're doing in the bathroom-flossing, clipping our toenails or...whatever-keep the door closed. I don't think "familiarity breeds contempt"  was intended for this scenario but it isn't too out of place here. Romance loves a little mystery. That's my deep contribution to this conversation.

Little things shouldn't turn into big things.
One of my dear friends is Vickey and that's her advice. She's a Texan with a heart as big as the state itself and she's an expert at not letting the little things get under her skin. I'm still working on not letting the little pile of dirty socks turn into a Mount Everest of animosity because that anger seeps into other parts of the relationship and before you know it there's a fight and then I'm back to waiting for that positivity switch in my brain to click to the on position. I'm going to make a supreme effort to remember that this week.

Fight for your marriage.
Infidelity. I am always amazed that couples can survive it. For my friends who did they have all said that the years following were tortuous but that they eventually reached a place of deeper understanding and better communication. Admirable and I will be totally honest and say that I'm not sure I could find the forgiveness, and if I did, then I'm not sure I could ever forget and find a place in my heart where love would thrive. Those that have survived tell me that they were able to see where they had both made mistakes before the affair began. They say they survived because one partner ferociously fought a battle to save the marriage and through counseling, prayer, endless nights of talk or whatever they chose as weapons, they were able to slay their demons. They were blessed that their partner was the listening kind because so many are not.
 

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Just about everyone I heard from also said that they wished they had spent more time talking about parenting, household chores and finances before getting married. It seems to be universal to think that love will conquer all when, really, it's good planning that clears the clutter from a relationship and makes room for love to stay.

I love that my friend Melanie contributed her thoughts on what to look for before you get involved. She says that people reveal themselves to be exactly who they are early in the relationship but we do the whole "that's not really who they are thing." She continues by saying "yes, it is. It really, really is. Who people truly are is revealed by their actions." Perhaps I watch too much Dateline or 48 Hours but for every murderous spouse there must have been telltale clues. I'm thinking Melanie would make a great detective.

Robert Browning said "Grow old with me! The best is yet to be." I am forever grateful that I had the sense to stay the few times I wanted to flee. Laughter comes easier the older we get and even though there are times that we can't see the light we know to wait for it.

No Lapse in Faith

I have never lost my faith. I may have, for a while, lost my faith in the brick and mortar churches, but that forfeiture made room in my life for a spiritual journey that I don't regret.

I just stumbled across author and priest Andrew M. Greeley's website and his "Why I'm Still A Catholic" article. I really do believe, even though I haven't attended mass in probably 10 years, that once a Catholic always a Catholic. I have rosaries scattered throughout my home. I sleep with a leather scapular and two of the rosaries hanging from our headboard-one on my side and one on my husband's. During a recent health crisis I prayed to Father Solanus Casey and held close to my heart a bit of cloth that had touched his tomb. Father Casey was known for his miraculous healing and is well on his way to clearing the Vatican's hurdles for sainthood.

I was just barely a cradle Catholic. That's church slang for Catholics born and raised in the Church. We went to Mass on most Sundays and I attended CCD (the acronym for Catholic Children's Doctrine), I was baptized, had my First Communion and I was Confirmed. When I was a little girl in the 1960s, women still covered their heads and I had mantillas, the little lace head scarves, in white, pink and black. My mother made sure we dutifully met the guidelines but there was no real appreciation for the Sacraments. There was no family prayer and certainly no talk about what it meant to be a Catholic. My strongest memory of growing up and going to church is getting caught, at 14 years old, swilling strawberry wine in the bushes outside the St. Cecilia church rectory. My father stepped foot in church for weddings only. He would jokingly say the pews were too hard and his wooden leg made it too difficult to stand, kneel, sit and repeat.

I wholeheartedly came to the Church after a divorce. I do realize, considering the Catholic stance on divorce, the humor in that. When I met my second and current husband he was a much more devoted Catholic than I was. That makes it sound as if I'm shopping for number three but we're on year 23 of wedded contentment/conflict/contentment. I knew when we were dating that we would never be married unless I had my first marriage annulled. I won't go into the controversy surrounding annulments but I will say that it was one of the most emotionally cathartic experiences of my life. It made me dissect every aspect of my failed marriage and take a good hard look at every other aspect of my life. The original intent of annulment is to dissolve a marriage that is contrary to Divine Law. I'll spare everyone the icky details but if that's what it takes to qualify for an annulment than my first marriage certainly met the criteria...and then some.

We married and I was very active in my parish. I was president of our women's group, I worked with our Monsignor on community tasks, I cooked casseroles and tossed salads for funerals and anniversaries and I headed up a building fund committee. My children attended the parish school. I hosted rosaries in my home. But all the while I had a nagging, unsettled feeling that just wouldn't go away.

Andrew Greeley says "those who leave the Church because they have discovered how flawed are many leaders, are ignorant of history. Jesus never promised us saints. Nor did he promise that the saints who on occasion might be in charge would be either effective administrators or wise leaders."

Unlike Father Greeley, who has had his own conflict with the Catholic Church, I found it impossible to ignore the blaring headlines that screamed of sex abuse scandals. When grown men molest small children and when those committing the mortal sins of child molestation are shuttled from parish to parish and country to country and protected from the law it makes me sick. It's old news, isn't it? How sad that we are barely even shocked when another scandal arises. It's just more fodder for the late night hosts.

I found it impossible to shake the feeling that it was about big business and that the business was corrupt.  I suppose I could look back at Catholic history and see that the church has always been embroiled in scandals and I could just accept that the scandals were further proof of man's fallibility. But, I didn't accept it. 

On a beautiful Spring day my husband and I attended a funeral. As usual, we sat front and center. We watched the priest preparing the Eucharist.  "This is my body … this is my blood." The Catholic understanding of these words is literal. The word for it is transubstantiation. The Communion bread and wine become the body and blood of Jesus Christ. On that day, I felt so many questions bubble to the surface and the most important one was this: How did so many soiled hands perform this beautiful ritual and why would the Church allow it to continue?

"Doubt is part of all religion. All the religious thinkers were doubters." So says Isaac Bashevis Singer.If you're not familiar with Singer, his is an interesting story. He was a Jewish American writer and Nobel Peace Prize winner. I felt as if I had the lion's share of doubt and, for many years after walking away, I was in mourning. I shed tears over my decision. There were lost friendships that accompanied my leaving but the loss I felt most strongly was for the rituals and the beauty of Catholicism and the Mass. To my Catholic friends who didn't abandon me, I say a belated thank you.

I let doubt propel my journey. I have always been uncomfortable with the notion that any one group held the keys to Heaven. Since stepping away from the Catholic Church I have tried on other religions. The Presbyterian services in Texas, where I truly felt a connection to that church home, were a blessing when I first felt adrift.  It was there that I met many other Catholics and one woman who said "I am a Catholic who attends the Presbyterian Church." No wonder I felt at home. When I moved to Los Angeles, the time I spent attending no services at all-just me and God and little talks scattered throughout every day of the week-was spiritually freeing and gave me time to read and explore religious history. Those little talks with God continue. The visit to a non denominational church in a California strip mall where the preacher screamed and told his followers that Jews, Buddhists, Catholics and anyone with different beliefs were destined to Hell was, well, scary as Hell. And if there was a place hotter and lower than Hell he was certain that the entrance was marked for homosexuals. I ran from that place. The churches where the members raised hands and spontaneously proclaimed Hallelujah were joyous but, quite frankly, they startled this lapsed Catholic woman, who was used to quiet sanctuaries.

I'm ready to step into a church community again. I hold my Catholic roots close to my heart but I'm not stepping back in that direction. The term "Cafeteria Catholic" is used to describe a Catholic who picks and chooses, from the list of Church rules, what he or she wants to believe. The Church is filled with Cafeteria Catholics. It can easily be applied to all other religions. I don't want to pick and choose what I will believe. I want to totally immerse myself in spirituality. I want a congregation that shares my belief that good people go to Heaven and that God doesn't discriminate. Is that easily dismissed as simplistic? I think it's one of the hardest things to wrap your brain around. Opening your heart to others and finding the good is actually a great challenge. My religious past has made me who I am. I'm grateful for God's direction on my journey.