Archives for the month of: July, 2012

Week 4 of 52 Changing My Fun Factor!

July 31, 2012 //
1

REFLECTIONS

This past week has been challenging as I try  to master WORDPRESS, the Blog  Masters…what do I expect for free??   I mention my frustrated state of mind as a prelude to my confessions of failure in this past week’s challenge.

Being altruistic does not come naturally to me. I have failed miserably. When I decided to give to someone, without expecting a response of gratitude, the voice inside my head uttered (in a tart tone no less)…uhh…a thank you would be appreciated…  This happened when I simply held the door open for a mom with a stroller. I set out to expect nothing, in my goal of altruistic gestures, but when no ‘thank you’ was given, I got stroppy.

Another example of my failure at altruism occurred when I decided to carry my neighbour’s garbage cans back to his yard after the garbage collectors had been and gone. I did this but when I next saw the neighbour, I wanted my ‘grand gesture’ to be duly noted. It took all my effort to not tweak his memory on the surprising return of his garbage cans.

And then I had a real test put before me by the forces that want me to grow into The Other Woman…I was given a perfect opportunity to demonstrate altruism. I had made plans to drive from Vancouver Island to The Pas in northern Manitoba for the 100th Anniversary of my town of birth, in early August. My younger daughter offered to help me do this long drive, but then changed her mind as it no longer worked for her. Remember, I had planned to do this alone, and was only later given the offer of help. So in the interests of letting each person(including myself here) give whenever and whatever pleases them…I SHOULD HAVE BEEN GRACIOUS and UNDERSTANDING. But I wasn’t. I said all the right words but with an icy… disappointed in your choices …tone.

I have learned that I am closer to the behaviours of Kim Kardashian than Aung San Suu Kyi. I will continue to try to give without waiting for a nod of thanks so that I may become a less demanding woman.

I must remember that a loving gesture given freely,  feels very different from a loving gesture given dutifully.

I took the photo of racks of freshly washed dishes with a feeling of envy towards the person with this job! Later the same summer I noticed this man outside my window sailing along on some type of surf board and longed for his feeling of joyous freedom.

ASPIRATIONS FOR WEEK  4 of 52

CHANGING MY FUN FACTOR

Having fun as  one of my week’s challenges, may seem odd to most. Those of you who know me well, though, realize this will be an arduous task … hahaha… Work comes naturally to me. My Astrological sign is Virgo… we are the organizers, we are the worker bees…and to prove my point I will quote the first characteristic I read on the first site I Google…

” Virgos adapt to different people and situations by finding ways to make themselves USEFUL” 

Point made.

Secondly, my parents were from Eastern Europe. Their child rearing motto…(Ukrainian accent thrown in for authenticity)…”No foolink arrrrround”…My first 12 years had the whiff a of labour camp for children. To be fair, I have never been imprisoned in a real labour camp, and for this I am grateful. But at least there, I would have known I was being held and forced to work against my will, for some crime I was purported to have committed. But when it is your own home, one just believes one’s experience to be normal. We did have family outings, but they were purpose driven.

1. Walking on the Carrot River Dike…to pick mushrooms.

2. Hiking through the woods…to pick raspberries, cranberries, moss berries, blueberries, gooseberries and red currants.

3. Camping at the lake…to catch fish and pick berries.

4. Enjoying the garden…while picking vegetables and fruit.

This may have been an idyllic childhood, what with the constant communing with nature, but it was not balanced with a normal amount of play time…play being the absence of purpose.

I will try for the next 49 weeks to dabble, frolic, rollick, cavort or fool around at least once a day!    

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Categories love, the other woman, transformation

Week 3 Changing My Expectations of Love

July 23, 2012 //
0

REFLECTIONS

I’m utterly comfortable using my pretty green cup from week 1’s change. My morning coffee is now tasty in a pretty cup. I don’t feel prettier or more feminine, but the first step into the mystery of transformation, may come from acknowledging where I am stuck…

Week 2’s challenge was to change my pyjama style.

As expected, gathering my tattered, faded, yet, oh so coveted pyjamas, into a pile to discard, caused me anxiety. If my plan had been to wear the new, but keep the old tucked safely into the back of a drawer, I would have been okay. But real change must elicit discomfort. So after staring at the pile for 2 days, I reluctantly washed, folded and donated 5 pairs of pyjamas. I did not embrace the new. It felt as though I had gone shopping with a friend and after much persuading, I purchased her recommendations. Something like the Reality Show, “What Not To Wear.” We, the audience, agree that the transformed woman looks better in her freshly chosen clothes, but I wonder if she feels as comfortable in this ‘new look’ as her smile would indicate or if once the lights and cameras are off and she is sitting in the dull light of her own room, she weeps.

My one consolation, no one sees me in bed. I cannot imagine wearing a dress with heels in public…maybe Week 52…

ASPIRATIONS FOR Week 3 of 52

CHANGING MY EXPECTATIONS OF LOVE

ImageImage

I have spent my life searching for love, and as that memorable song from Urban Cowboy advised, I was looking in all the wrong places.

I was looking for love in all the wrong places,

Looking for love in too many faces

Searching your eyes, looking for traces

Of what.. I’m dreaming of…

Hopin’ to find a friend and a lover

God bless the day I discover

Another heart, lookin’ for love

Being an extremely literal person in the past (only recently do I truly understand the concept of metaphor) I thought this meant to stay out of the bars!

On reflection I admit that the places I have looked for love were found in the material world of accumulation. I have sought men with money, men with looks, men with power and men with brains.

But I now think love is more than a dozen roses, a Mensa Membership or a Rolex. I have accepted many gifts in the years of my relationships. I’m not denying the value of material expressions of love but I think the feeling accompanying the gift has to mean more to me than the gift itself. The material generosity must no longer supplant the heart.

I also believed in the theory that once a relationship lacked love, merely changing the man would correct the problem. Several years, several men later, I did clue into the fact that maybe I had to do some of the changing.

“Be the change that you wish to see in the world”. Ghandi.

So if I believe in what Ghandi says, I must be a loving person if I am to find love in a relationship. And herein lies my challenge. I have spent hours trying to understand what a loving behavior looks like. I’ve read through countless articles and quotes on love and decided for me, that true love must embody altruistic giving. As usual, Oscar Wilde says it most eloquently!

Oscar Wildequotes:

To give and not expect return, that is what lies at the heart of love.

So, the new behavior that I will adopt for this week and maintain for the year of The Other Woman, will ask this of me. Each day I will give something to someone, expecting nothing in return. I have now come to believe that whenever I hold an expectation of response, I pervert my act of giving.

Simply put, I will not expect a wave from the car I let in front of me, nor a thank you for the door I held open, nor a return compliment from the friend I just complimented.

As soon as I wait for a specific response or any response at all, I am in a controlling mindset. I gave this so you must give that… a quid pro quo expectation.

I will practice giving anonymously without any expectation of reciprocity.

For I must learn that even though I love someone, there can be no expectation that they will reciprocate my love.

If I desire the freedom to love whomever I want, with the accompanying freedom to express this love as I am so moved to express it, I must then give this to every person alive.

What I want for myself I must lovingly give to others.

I chose photos of 2 women( my daughter’s ideas); one woman who seems to embody materialistic love, Kim Kardashian and in contrast, one woman who seems to embody altruistic love, Aung San Suu Kyi. I apologize to both Kim Kardashian and Aung Sann Suu Kyi for shoving you into broad, all encompassing categories to serve my own needs. No one is as unidimensional as my depiction would imply.

But when I need a visual in my quest to embody the energy of The Other Woman, I will picture the altruism of Aung San Suu Kyi.

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WEEK 2 OF 52 CHANGING MY PYJAMA STYLE

July 16, 2012 //
1

REFLECTIONS

I made a very insignificant change last week in my move towards being The Other Woman. I changed my morning coffee cup from a huge pink mug with an unattractive lady moose in curlers and a housecoat gracing the front, to a pretty green cup. I thought such a small move would do nothing internally, but seemed like an obvious place to begin. First cup of the day, make it pretty. But the impact of this move has been very noticeable to me.

This insignificant shift has left me feeling slightly vulnerable, more exposed. I feel less certain as I go through my days. I feel people are talking about me, judging me, laughing at me.

Logically I know this is not true, because no one knows I have done this. So the voices of ridicule live in me. The voices demand I stay as I am, stay where I belong, stay in the comfort of the known.

In just trying the most innocuous of moves towards embodying The Other Woman, I am agitated. I feel dishonest, as though I am  putting myself above my station.

I belong in the ‘not pretty’ category of women. I am comfortable looking in the mirror and seeing someone who is not pretty. I have never called myself pretty no matter how I may have been described by others. Objectively, I am sure I would be considered pretty, but that intellectual piece of knowledge, does not influence what I ‘see’ when I look in a mirror.

Because I feel The Other Woman believes she is pretty, moving one step into her world, creates COGNITIVE DISSONANCE. I learned this phrase in Psyche 100, back when I was 18, and now I am experiencing the sensation. Cognitive Dissonance is the discomfort created by holding conflicting perceptions simultaneously.

I am not pretty but this is a cup that a pretty woman would use.

ASPIRATIONS FOR WEEK 2 of 52

CHANGING MY PYJAMA STYLE

This week I am going to give up, once and for all time, my ugly pyjamas. I know I will find this hard, and it has nothing to do with the physical comfort of the change. It’s not as if I’ve been wearing 100% cotton and am now converting to  rayon or silk where one quick move might have you slipping off the bed onto the floor. Nor is there any scratchy lace.

The new pyjamas are 100% cotton .

So where is my anxiety coming from? Could it be that the new pyjamas are so pretty and I don’t feel pretty.

I think my comfort with the old get-up, comes from its unattractiveness. It matches how I feel when I am being honest with myself. I have always maintained that it is the comfort of the big Lakers shirt that is so appealing, but that is not really true.

I have owned and worn more attractive sleepwear over the years, but to be honest, they never last. They get shoved to the back of my drawer as I greet the night donning my ancient Gap bottoms and my Laker waffle top.

I suspect it will be easier to wear the pretty Pyjamas when I am at a hotel or staying with friends, than at home where I am most honest with who I am.

I now have a big pile of old worn Gap pyjama sets ready for recycling.

I have bought 3 new sets of pyjamas.

So for the next 51 weeks of this transformation I will wear pretty pyjamas.

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WEEK 1 Changing My Morning Coffee Mug to Something Pretty

July 10, 2012 //
0

REFLECTIONS

 

THE USES OF SORROW   by Mary Oliver

Someone I loved once gave me

a box full of darkness.

It took me years to understand 

that this too, was a gift.

 

This BLOG is NOT for the weak nor the judgmental…and HEY, I’m talking to you inner scaredy cat and inner critic.

“You are so weird. Don’t do this blog about The Other Woman. What will your friends think of you? What will your family think of you? What will you think of you when you admit such weakness and vulnerability. Haven’t you been through enough ridicule? I mean, always being the last to know…”

So, in the spirit of acquainting myself with me, I will try very hard not to censor what I say. I am abandoning my tried and true persona, where I would adjust my thoughts and speech to match whomever I was speaking with. (for a hilarious portrayal of this character type,  watch Woody Allen’s movie Zelig)  In doing so I will experience the honest reactions of those I love and cherish. I apologize to those who thought they were always interacting with the real Kathy…

I have spent my life contorting myself in hopes of being well received. I was far too meek to be controversial. My need for approval superseded any need to be myself. This is first and foremost a selfish act. I reflected the beliefs back to whomever I was speaking with, hoping the ego stroke I’d just given them, would serve me well.

This stance is disingenuous and dishonest. Nor did I end up with flocks of people saying how much they liked me.

It is better to be hated for what you are than to be loved for what you are not.

–André Gide

 

I have been brought a box of darkness by a loved one, as Mary Oliver so eloquently states. I am not so evolved as to see this as a gift, but I hope through blogging about The Other Woman, I will shed light on why painful events can transform one into a happier, healthier person. I would like my ‘BOXES OF DARKNESS’ to help me discover the mystery as opposed to the misery of The Other Woman.

I have hated ‘The ‘Other Woman.’  I have cried myself to sleep imagining her allure. I have eaten my feelings in an attempt to numb the pain of not being quite enough. I have wasted hours playing detective, trying to suss out a lie, or a potential threatening woman. I have spent years at the throne of  ‘The Other Woman’, imagining her to have Goddess power. I must first unearth the horrid negativity that has entrapped me before I can hope to find the light.

The Other Woman

-by me

Envy. He desires her. He seeks her presence. He lies to me to lie with her.

Who is she? Who are they? Look who I’ve become.

Obsessive. With heavy leaded stomach I begin the search. 

Pockets first. Is this a woman’s business card. I wish names were gender specific. Terry, Pat, Morgan. I sigh. Relief. I find a Jim, a Mark.

Phone records. First eliminate familiar numbers and then I begin to call.

“May I speak to the woman of the household. I’m conducting a survey on behalf of Statistics Canada. Would you be willing to answer a 10 minute survey on the state of marriage in urban Canada today? What are you feelings on fidelity?”

I feel ill. Is she the one that I am not?

 Hours of obsessive searching.

Credit Card statements. Cash withdrawal patterns.

Is the car’s passenger seat in an unfamiliar position? Has her seat been on this seat? My seat?

I thought he was mine.  How did I become his undesirable?

Did it occur when I became a wife? A mother?

 He married me. Obligation. Her? Freedom.

 Hate

ASPIRATIONS FOR WEEK 1 of  52

CHANGING MY MORNING COFFEE MUG TO SOMETHING PRETTY

In hopes of discovering the essence of The Other Woman I plan to adopt a new behavior each week. I will choose behaviors that I imagine The Other Woman takes for granted in her daily routine, but I admit that I am guessing about her daily routine. Never having been The Other Woman, I may have this all wrong, so I am open to suggestions from others.

So this week I am going to change the cup I use for my morning coffee. In the past I went for size and humor. Upon waking, I feel quite unattractive, so rather than do something about this, I make fun of myself by using this goofy cup.

My new cup, given to me by my younger daughter, has elegant lines, an appealing shade of green(green being the color of new life) and makes me feel a little prettier. So I will use this cup from today forwards, through the 52 weeks of transformation!


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