I need help

Whoever you are, please send me some good news, something good that's happened to you recently, someone you saw do a kindness, a story you've heard.  The news is so bad, I need and want to be reminded of the goodness there is still in the world. 

Thoughts and prayers? Bah, humbug!

I wonder if the members of Congress who offer their knee-jerk 'thoughts and prayers' to the families of the victims of one of this country's many, many mass shootings ever call or visit those families in person, expose themselves to the profound, heart-wrenching grief.  I wonder what their prayers consist of.  Perhaps "Dear Lord, I wish (name of shooter here) hadn't had access to all those military-grade assault weapons with large capacity ammunition feeding devices.  Oh Lord, show me how to end this violence without having to enact reasonable gun restriction laws."

It seems to me that the members of Congress are in the unique position of being able to actually do something concrete to help curtail this violence.  Unlike the rest of us, they can do something more effective than offering thoughts and prayers, the which, to my knowledge, have not helped a single person and have not done anything at all to lower the numbers attached to each mass shooting, or any shooting, for that matter.  It's so easy to forget that each one of those numbers represents not just a person, but all the people who love that person, whose lives are forever torn by that person's slaying.

If a member of Congress lost someone in a shooting, would that strengthen his or her spine enough that he or she might finally be ready to say "Enough is enough.  We must do something about this."  Would that Congressperson finally realize that thoughts and prayers are not only not enough, they are nothing at all?  They are empty gestures meant to make everyone feel better - everyone except those dealing with the ugly aftermath of the shooting: the shattered lives, the broken hearts, the anger, fear, despair, loneliness.

Aren't they asking themselves "What will it take to end this?"  Or is the problem that they know what it will take and are simply too cowardly, or too in love with their own guns, to make the necessary changes to our laws?  They can't possibly think that this country's growing gun violence is not a problem.  Why oh why oh why don't they do something?   

Us at our best

Recently Sweet Hubby and I had a fight, one of the big ones.  I felt that he had stepped in on something we had agreed I would handle, which brought up the times that I have felt disempowered by him, as though he believes he needs to be in charge of everything, which implies I'm not competent, can't be trusted, blah blah blah.  This is what sometimes happens when two very strong, very smart people who have lived independently for a long time come together in partnership.  SH is used to doing things on his own, in his own time and his own way.  The trouble is, so am I.

It's true that he is much more skilled than I am in many more areas, and often it makes sense for him to take the lead when something needs doing.  But there are certain projects I want done that are not as important to him, so they simply don't get done, or they get done in a way that's good enough but sort of jerry-rigged.  This was one of those projects.  I had figured that, instead of pushing him to get to it, I would take it off his hands, because it seemed more important to me than to him.

Anyway, we stood there bumping heads and egos for a while.  I couldn't seem to get him to understand how it feels to me when he takes over something I'm doing.  He said at one point that he'd been concerned that I would complete this project without discussing it with him - so he took it over and he did what he did without discussing it with me.  At that point in the conversation, I had to go hole up in my office with the door closed (but not slammed - we don't slam doors on each other).  I was too frustrated about him not understanding why I this was so upsetting to me.

Maybe an hour later, our paths crossed again, and he, my wonderful SH, said "I've been thinking about it and you're right, I do that, and I'm really sorry."  I was sort of gobsmacked.  I have known all along that he is a big man, a mature man, a generous and well-meaning man, but for him to be able to take complete responsibility for what had gone wrong just blew me away.  Now I realize he is a great man.  Not many of us are able to say "I was wrong".  I certainly have a hard time with it.  But he gave it thought and saw himself and apologized.

And that's why this one is titled "Us at our best".  In each other's company, inside this partnership, we learn and grow and rise.  Oh my gosh, how lucky am I?

Time to stay home?

I traveled recently to Los Angeles to see a play of mine performed in a festival and to visit with some of the friends I left behind when I moved to Seattle.  It was a lovely trip; everything went well.  The play was performed nicely.  I got to eat at some truly wonderful restaurants.  I made my way around the once-familiar city fairly easily (thank you, GPS!), even though I was driving an SUV for the first time.  Although I had let a boatload of people know I was coming, only some responded or were available, which ended up being a blessing because it meant that the visiting times were intimate and personal.  All in all, it was a very good few days.  But man oh man, was it good to come home.

I have begun to anticipate the coming of a day when I'm not going to want to travel any more but will prefer to stay cozy and snug at home with Sweet Hubby.  I'm not ready for that day yet.  (My parents were never ready for it; when Mom died at 89, they were on a riverboat on the Mississippi on what was going to be - and was - their last vacation.)  I still have the urge to be out in the world, visiting, having adventures, experiencing new places and food and people.  Even so, these days it's just awfully nice to be home, not living out of a suitcase or hotel room, not to have the tension of making my way along unfamiliar streets and freeways, not being away from SH.

Maybe if SH liked to travel, my time of wanting to be out and about would last longer.  But he's a stay-at-home kinda guy.  When we do go out - and we do - it feels like a big deal.  After all, it takes effort to buy tickets, make a reservation, dress for public display, drive through traffic, look for parking, be among our fellow folks.  Even taking Covid concern out of the picture, it's not a small thing to go out.  So easy to be home dressed in our comfies with cats in our laps watching super heroes take on the bad guys.  So easy.  Very tempting.

But still, I'm just not ready for that yet.  It feels like a concession to old age that I'm not ready to make.  So I took that trip to L.A., and have another coming up soon to Pacific Grove to officiate my niece's wedding, and then another in early November to see a friend perform in Portland.  At this point, I'm taking advantage of travel opportunities almost as a challenge to myself, sort of like "Do it now because someday you won't want to."  I know I'll be glad I've gone where I've gone, stayed connected to distant friends, shaken up my routines a bit.

And then, man oh man, it will be good to be home.

Look at meeeee!

I have been performing my entire life.  Even before I knew I wanted to be an actress, I was rather desperately in need, not just of attention so much as of applause.  Sometimes it took the form of my sister and I and sometimes our younger brother putting on skits for neighbors, for our parents' friends, for each other.  But those stimulated rather than sated the desire to be noticed.

Because my family moved so often when I was growing up (one of the seminal factors in my life), I was the new kid in class about every year and a half and, because I was so afraid of being lonely and alone, I would almost immediately begin my little dog-and-pony show.  I wouldn't necessarily literally sing and dance, but I laughed loudly and often, raised my hand for every question, acted silly, gave off some razzmatazz.

There was even a period when I was pre-teen that I began to act in every moment of daily life as though a camera were following me (except when I was in the bathroom; I was very modest).  During that time, I wasn't acting the role of performer/teacher's pet/class clown; I was acting the role of a Very Good Girl.  At night I laid out my clothes for the following day, next morning would wake up cheerful and immediately make my bed.  I would do little unasked-for chores for my mother, such as organizing a messy cupboard.  I wanted praise from an invisible camera crew of documentarians who had somehow discovered that I was special, noteworthy, remarkable.

As I got older and my social life became wider and more complex, I often made an showy entrance at parties and made sure to be the center of at least one circle of attention.  When I began to pursue an acting career, of course some of my need to perform was channeled into that, but actors seldom get enough opportunities to scratch their itch so I continued to show off during every part of life.  I wanted the attention of men so they would fall in love with me, talent scouts so I could be 'discovered', potential friends so I wouldn't be lonely.  Needless to say (but I'm going to say it anyway), all this effort was rather exhausting for me, and must have been exhausting for others to be around.

I'm not sure where all this need from attention came from.  Was it exclusively because of the "new kid" experiences?  Was it in order to get the attention and approval of my dad?  Was it just an organic part of my self, in innate desire to entertain run amok?  Why was I so desperate to be seen as special and brilliant?

It took years of therapy and transformational seminars and life lessons for me to learn at last that I don't have to be the center of attention, and that my efforts are better spent at being quiet and attentive to others; that all that showiness was actually a way not to be fully engaged; that living an authentic life is much, much more important than having boatloads of friends.

I wonder if this urge to entertain and be seen is so common that it doesn't even deserve mentioning.  I wonder if everyone puts on a little show in order not to be scared.  I wonder if everyone takes as long as I have to un-learn childhood survival mechanisms.  Because I suppose that's all it was, really.  Just my way of getting through childhood intact, my way of exploring my own boundaries and my place in the world.