Beyond Broken

Attachment

Invisibility

When we get older we often suffer from a kind of invisibility.  Heads do not turn when we walk in a room, even though we may be wearing our new spring clothes.  Sometimes in the locker room at the gym young women have conversations around me as if I am not there at all.

This all seems to come with the territory of getting older and although I have noticed, it has not troubled me much.

Then came a new set of experiences that brought on a whole new level of invisibility.

We decided to sell our large, long-time home and downsize to the condo of our dreams.  Yes, we had to act fast, and fortunately a family member had told us for years “If you ever decide to sell your house I would really like to buy it.”  So we asked her how serious she was and within a month’s time our house was sold and our condo bought.  We arranged to rent the house back for four months while we reasonably prepared to move and renovated the condo.  Four months sounded like a long enough time for the transition but it was not enough physically or psychologically.  We built our home forty years ago and it was an embodiment of us. We underestimated the whole process. We felt overwhelmed and numb.

…

Read More

Grandpa was a boxer

 With my grandparents in 1968

My grandfather was a professional boxer and a Featherweight Champion in Washington D.C. in the 1920’s when boxing was illegal.

“BOXING IN WASHINGTON WAS ILLEGAL UNTIL THE LATE 1930s, but it was conducted nevertheless on a floating crap-game basis, with arenas popping up here and there” writes Shirley Povich the famous sports writer for The Washington Post at the time. It is in this backdrop of thugs and gambling and organized crime that my grandmother married my grandfather in 1926, making him promise to leave the ring. My mother was born two years later.

My grandparents were Jewish, and Jews at that time experienced a lot of discrimination. This was true in boxing as in all sports, so my grandfather changed his name from Isadore Goldstein to Goldie Ahearn. This new persona identified him as Irish — a more acceptable minority in sports. As the story goes, one of the first times he stepped into a ring paired with another ‘Irishman’, it did not take long for them to discover they were both Jewish and had both garnered Irish names.

…

Read More

Relationships Can Be So Puzzling


How many of us have come away from an interaction with a friend or relative and thought – wow that was unsatisfying!

It is often puzzling as this drawing suggests — what did I bring to the interaction — what did they bring?  What happened?

I had such an experience last week with a dear friend and colleague.  It was so inspiring to unravel what happened and feel the regret for my part.

Brene Brown defines connection from her research as:

“Connection is the energy that exists between people when they feel seen, heard and valued; when they can give and receive without judgement; and when they derive sustenance and strength from the relationship.”

I retraced my steps with my friend.  I am deep into the study of ‘near enemies’ of connection and compassion.  They are these tricky/masquerading moments when we make a comment or add something to the conversation that looks like a kind, responsive contribution but actually stops the connection cold.

…

Read More

Watering Grasses

Last week I spent several hours watering grasses.  We had planted several thousand tiny grass plugs along the sandy banks of our shore at our bay house to help stabilize the sand.  Two days later the sun is intense and the little ones are drying out.  My husband Tom got out a huge variety of garden hoses including some borrowed from neighbors and we begin the task of watering each one.  “Water each grass twice.  The first one is to prepare the plant to drink, the second time is so that the water will be absorbed,” Tom instructs.

Even though it is early morning it is already blazing hot and about an hour into the project Tom points out that the hose nozzle I have been gripping has a lock that will hold it on.  Just like when you pump gas for your car!  You do not have to hold down the nozzle the whole time.  I use the lock and am grateful because my hand was getting cramped and tired.  However as we proceed — for another hour — I notice that I can’t seem to remember to stop pressing hard on the trigger, even though it is now locked in place.

I immediately know that I have a metaphor worth writing about!  How many things in life do we do with more effort than required!  I know for myself: many.  For example, on the long drive back to Charlottesville later in the week I notice that I am gripping the steering wheel instead of simply touching it lightly to steer the car.  What might we do with this extra effort if we could re-direct it in a useful direction?…

Read More

I Want to Write About Faith…

 

“I want to write about faith,” is the first line of one my favorite poems by David Whyte.  He continues, “but I have no faith myself…but let this then, my small poem…be the first prayer that opens me to faith.”

I have always loved this poem because from my experience, it describes the process of faith so honestly.

Recently a client asked me, “Wendy, do you pray?”  She is in the midst of her own struggles with faith.  “Yes I pray,” I said, “and prayer for me seems to have seasons.”  The answer came out without thought.  And I was pleased with it.  I have spent many years trying to ‘install’ a prayer practice in my life.  I memorized “Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace, where there is hatred let me sow love…etc.”  I learned ancient chants in odd languages, repetitive songs in Portuguese and most recently prayer beads each morning at the edge of the ocean.

During the Pandemic something changed.  The tremendous longing I felt to reach God — to feel some sort of communion— not to feel so alone, diminished.

…

Read More