Avoidance, Writer’s Block, Life…

Yes, I’m finally writing again… and for this first post, I had initially set out to write about writer’s block and internal darkness - in fact, I have about 1200 words floating around somewhere in Word talking about the connection between the two. But instead, I discovered that what I really wanted to say was something about how my round with writer’s block felt like an example of something that happens to all of us in varying degrees and forms. It wasn’t something unique just for writers…

These past few months, I have been struggling to write creatively... I found myself doing all sorts of others things instead, like veg’ing out in front of the TV because there was a NCIS marathon… or spending mindless hours in front of the computer searching for who knows what… And of course when all else failed, there was always work related stuff to do when I seemed to have any down time to write. Point is and quite simply, I was avoiding writing (not a very promising habit for an aspiring writer).

For me, avoidance behavior served as a twisted form of writer’s block. I was “blocked” not because I didn’t have anything to say, but because of something else. After all, this was not the first time that I’ve experienced this phenomenon… I’ve seen this behavior before, manifested in a variety of forms, in different contexts and during all parts of my life. What I discovered was that “avoidance” is a coping mechanism that I use when something seems unpleasant or scary. On the surface, writing is neither unpleasant nor scary for me… but on reflection, writing represents a change… and that’s what’s scary.

Change is oftentimes greeted with a mixed sense of excitement and caution. We are generally hesitant or resistant to change because its qualities are unknown to us. We don’t know what will happen to us as a result of changes… and we don’t know if moving forward with a particular plan will help us or hurt us. Change frequently requires us to take risks while our primal instincts remind us to protect ourselves from harm– physically, psychologically, and emotionally.

Thus, with creative writing – this act represented a huge change for me – it was asking me to move forward in an identity shift. No small task for one so old, lol. It now meant that if I wanted to be a writer, I needed to make a commitment to being one - not just a dabbler anymore. It meant that I would need to be okay with letting others see my vulnerability – to see my spirit exposed, where for a lifetime it has been silenced and sheltered. It meant that I would need to be willing to share my thoughts and ideas at the risk of feeling the sting of criticisms. And it meant embracing this other dimension to myself that has been but a shadow lurking in my being, sequestered away until now,… and now, I would need to own it. Engaging in this change meant that I would be taking risks and putting my work out there – putting me out there.

And while I may have arrived at some resolution about my writer’s block, it made me wonder: How is this type of avoidance any different from how we use avoidance in our every day lives?

As I referenced earlier, avoidance is a familiar tune to me. It has been both a useful tool and unhealthy way of functioning as I go through life. And we all have examples with which to draw from where we could identify avoidance as part of the scenario. You know, it’s that project you waited until the very last minute to get to… or the conversation you haven’t had yet with your partner because you’re both too busy… or it’s the phone call you waited until 5:05pm to respond to and so forth.

By any other name, avoidance is seen or known as “procrastination” or “delay” or “too busy” to name just a few. These may be more palatable sounding words because they don’t infer a shirking of one’s responsibility or a character flaw, but they are in fact synonymous with avoidance.  The end result is the same: we’ve managed to avoid doing something for a particular time frame.

And while sometimes it’s not a big deal to avoid doing something, there are certainly occasions or contexts where avoidance does not serve our self-interests. Rather than the change being what’s hurtful to us, our own failure to see the role of avoidance in our own lives is what hurts us more.  

So just what was it that I wanted to say about avoidance behavior, writer’s block and life? The truth is that avoidance can take many forms; it’s not just a barrier to writing…it can be a roadblock to living.

Women's Sexuality: Why does the Debate Still Linger?

These last few weeks, I have been in and out in following the news… but the recent controversy about whether or not a faith-based organization should be forced to provide medical coverage for birth control prescriptions grabbed my attention…. Oh, and let’s not forget how politics have really muddied the waters. I soon found myself researching the issue and evaluating the many spins the “issue” has enjoyed.

It’s an interesting time to be a raising a daughter… and my daughter and I found ourselves talking about and wondering: just what is the issue here? Is it really about the alleged conduct of our government attempting to regulate religious freedom? Or is this about men attempting to regulate (yet again) the lives of women, or more specifically, regulating our sexuality? Or what?...

Whatever your opinion is, it would be great to have a discourse on the varying perspectives… so please, do chime in.

And since I am on the subject of women, I thought I’d share with you a piece that I wrote for a writing class that explores the issue of women’s sexuality from another aspect. Enjoy:

Girls Gone Wild or Girls Gone Exploited?

On one of those rare occasions, I had full control of the TV… my son was at his dad’s house, my daughter was in her room, the dogs were in the garage and there I was – alone in my living room with the TV and the remote control. Not finding anything I wanted to watch, I channel surfed and was surprised to discover an episode of “Girls Gone Wild” airing (with full breasts being shown) at 9 p.m., during prime time.

My first thought came as parent, wondering if my 12 year old son had known that I had failed to get this channel blocked. My next thoughts however, came as I actually watched what was unfolding. The series was promoting “The Hottest Girl in America” contest. The series showcased the adventures of the staff and camera crew as they traveled across the country in search of the young lady who would garner enough website votes to earn this title. It struck me as a twisted form of the country’s obsession with audience participation shows, only this time, the audience would be voting for the young lady who had that fantasy combination of being both All-American girl and sex kitten. 

The real tragedy for me lay in the women’s responses when asked why they wanted to be the hottest girl in America. A typical example is: “I’m going to be popular now. I come from a small town in the Midwest that no one knows, and now, I’m going from being no one to being famous.” This was the essence of what they had to say, the common theme being: fame at any cost. For me, the more glaring and sinister theme at play was: Make it a contest and you mask its true intent - sexual exploitation for profit. Who exactly was benefiting from the contest? Certainly not the contestants. I wondered if they really thought that this kind of fame and glory was the stuff you could put on your resume... REALLY?

So, as I observed this parade of young ladies being “interviewed,” I wondered if this is what young women think equates to “equal rights”? Have they confused sexual liberation with sexual exploitation? I retired that night feeling depressed about the state of femininity and feminism and how shows like this perpetuate women as sex objects for men. I reflected on how damaging it was for all women to have such images perpetuated by those unaware that they were being used for pure profit. This caused me to search the Internet and seek the feminist voice and commentary about shows like these.

Interestingly, I was fortunate to find Ariel Levy’s work Female Chauvinist Pigs. Her book stemmed from her observations and interviews while on the set of Girls Gone Wild. Levy found that many of the young women she interviewed saw their participation in the show as behavior that was synonymous with empowerment or liberation. They seemed to describe their behavior as part of a societal norm. Empowerment? Liberation? How could these young women arrive at such a conclusion?

These questions led me to wonder if we, as women, were in fact truly sexually liberated. If that was the case, then why couldn’t we just walk around topless on a hot day as men do? Why is it called indecent exposure if we do it when we feel like it, but “just business” if men produce it? If we are sexually liberated, then why do women still earn the labels of “whore,” “skank,” or other denigrating terms applied to a woman who is promiscuous or sexually deviant? With men, on the other hand, such behavior is frequently interpreted as sexual prowess.

The taint of such behavior also has more longstanding consequences for women than for men. This is shown by several lawsuits filed by women who had previous appearances on Girls Gone Wild. They are now seeking remedies to remove their videos from the public eye. Evidently, we are not allowed to have indiscretions or exercise bad judgment that can later be attributed to being young and foolish (unlike the privilege of our male counterparts). The reality is that we are not truly sexually liberated; the double standard is alive and well. 

So why would young women willingly participate in Girls Gone Wild? Levy attributes this to a cultural phenomenon she calls “raunch culture.” In this context, men and women alike find the slutty stereotypes for women as appealing and acceptable. She notes that, “the idea of a woman participating in a wet T-shirt contest or being comfortable watching explicit pornography has become a symbol of strength” for women. Interesting. I call it a sociological form of identification with the aggressor, where the female identity has integrated these male definitions for sexual attractiveness or sexually appropriate behaviors. I believe we have merely transformed our oppression as men’s sex objects into our identity as women. As such, sexual exploitation fails to be recognized because the behavior has become part of what defines being a woman.

I don’t take issue with women capitalizing on the sex market and making videos themselves to sell, so long as it was their choice and they fully enjoy the profits of their business venture. What I do take issue with is the current compensation scheme, or the lack thereof, that occurs in the sex industry. A vast amount of money is being made off of these women in the form of website hits, video clips, TV shows, and product merchandise. Yet the women portrayed do not enjoy any of the royalties or profit sharing nor are they adequately compensated. In the case of Girls Gone Wild, only the corporation and CEO get to reap the monetary rewards, while the girls… well, they get to keep their T-shirt. Now, that is sexual exploitation.

Finding Meaning in Our Suffering...

This week, I intended to complete my writing about our connectedness to each other and then got derailed by something else I was reading… I don’t know if this is a common occurrence for writers, but it appears to be part of my journey, so I just have to go with the flow, lol, and just write.

Lately, I have been reading a book called “Calling In the One,” by Katherine Woodward Thomas. It’s the latest book that’s been added to my collection of self-help books, popular psychology and dating anthologies (material for yet another blog no doubt). But this week, I was reading a chapter on our inner wounds when I came across this passage: 

“In some way, suffering ceases to be suffering at the moment it finds a meaning.”

These words struck me like a chord to a piano… its voice in a volume unheard of. The context of that passage is that it is followed by a story about a man who was grieving the death of his wife. The gentleman seemed to be sinking deep into depression, unable to work through his grief even after two years past her death.

Then, one day, the therapist asked the gentleman what did he think would have happened if he had died first? The gentleman replied that he believed that his wife would’ve suffered terribly. “Oh, then you have spared her then this suffering, and the price that you have paid to do this is of surviving and mourning her.” At that moment, the gentleman realized the meaning of it all. He was able to see the purpose or reason as to why his wife needed to precede him in death, and it was then that the gentleman was able to begin the healing process… in fact, he never felt the need to return to his therapist again.

This made so much sense to me… there are so many people who are suffering deep emotional pain in this world and can not seem to find their way out. The grief, oftentimes feels unbearable, insurmountable, and depressing; and for some, the cloud never seems to lift. It made me think about my own experiences with loss… the processes I have sought in order to find “answers;” my pursuit of unhealthy ways with which to manage and cope with my pain… to escape it, and to avoid it.

Pain, as I am using it here, is different from the bumps and lumps that I described in my previous blog. “Bumps and lumps” are the obstacles or barriers that come to us – they are the experiences or the events themselves…. and sometimes they can be quite painful or they can be irritating, frustrating, or sad. Pain, on the other hand, is that which makes us suffer. It’s the residual from our experiences… it’s what left of ourselves after surviving the storminess of bumps and lumps. Suffering happens in the deepest part of ourselves… sometimes we are aware of it and sometimes we are not, but always, it lies deep within us – guarded by our psyche so that we may simply move on.

 But like the gentleman in the story, the pain can, and often does, linger – sometimes well beyond what we think it has. For some of us, we may still be hurting from the loss of a loved one or a break up or a betrayal … there are a myriad of experiences that contribute to our sense of loss. But what makes us suffer lies in how we make sense of the pain that we are experiencing? Do we choose to play the role of victim, thereby making ourselves unable to do anything else but to blame others for our sorrows? Do we choose to despair or lose hope, resigning ourselves to a life of tragedy? Or do we choose to use our suffering as a tool with which to open up ourselves?

A tool that enables us to look deep within and ultimately, keeps the heart, mind, and spirit open.

Sometimes it’s easier just to abide by the suffering and do nothing about it, to make no effort to give it meaning or understanding… just simply deny its existence. Denial, from my understanding of its use in psychology, is a self-preservation tool of the psyche. It allows us to bury the pain, and to create a facade about its ill effect. It allows us to mentally and emotionally survive, but it does not help us find release. And like all things buried, in time, they eventually find their way to the surface…

Sometimes, when we comprehend the nature of our suffering, we can take comfort in understanding it. Take for example an old family friend of mine – we’ll call him Daniel. Daniel is in his sixties, and survived a serious stroke several years ago. Miraculously, he has regained complete use of his physical abilities, but he will have to deal with long-term brain injury as a result of his stroke. He understandably laments the loss of his faculties – as he tells me, “It’s quite frustrating to know what it is that you’re seeing but then not be able to retrieve the words right away.” But Daniel is a survivor and he recounts how blessed he is to have recovered as well as he has. Even more telling is how he has made sense of his suffering: he sees himself as blessed… and he knows that his progress serves as an inspiration to other stoke survivors, which is why, he says, he never stops attending his therapy.

Pain and suffering have its purpose… and everyday we have a chance to give it meaning so that we might find release from them. In some instances, like the loss of an ability – it may mean we have to adapt to our world differently than what we have been accustomed to; and in other instances, like the loss of love, it may mean we have to regain love for ourselves in order to heal and love again.

In any event, it causes us to rethink or do things differently… and perhaps finding the meaning of our suffering is the answer that we seek.

(Story about the therapist borrowed from Katherine Woodward Thomas’s “Calling In the One.”)

Our Connectedness to Each Other (Part I)

2012 started off with a bang… literally. On New Year’s Eve I was standing in front of the Sleeping Beauty castle at Disneyland with my kids and their friends. This moment was the culmination of several months of planning – coordinating the logistics and budgets for transportation, accommodations, and itineraries for our stay at the “happiest place on earth.” We would ring in the New Year to a sky painted with brilliant fireworks like no other (as only Disney can do) and it would be a sign of the happiness and prosperity that was to come with the year 2012.

WELL… that was the plan anyways.

Reality always has a way to show us that even the best laid plans will not come to fruition if that is not what the universe has planned, lol… and so it was, Murphy’s Law ran amuck that night. That evening, the fog decided to roll into Anaheim (I was told by some locals that this only happens every so many years), so that by 9 pm, Sleeping Beauty castle was barely visible. It was cold; the kids and I had been waiting in a designated area for about 2 hours just so we could have a good spot with which to catch the first round of fireworks at 9:30pm… and my girlfriend (who had taken the trip with us) was sick with the flu and in her hotel room, unable to hold down any food all day. With great anticipation, we all hoped the fireworks would brighten the sky and by default, brighten our mood. 



BOOM… BOOM… BOOM… we could hear the fireworks sail into the sky as they were being launched, but where were they???? Another set of loud booms and still… nothing. As luck would have it, the fog was too thick for the fireworks to boast their brilliance, and the realization that we would not be able to see any fireworks for this show or at midnight was a sobering bubble buster. This disappointment could be felt among the masses, evident in their faces the looks of defeat, resignation and anguish that the ringing in of the New Year at Disneyland would not go as planned. The fog had proved to be a cloud that would over shadow us in many ways.

Recognizing the irony of the situation, my kids and I began to play along with Mother’s Nature’s cruel joke: we began to utter sounds of “ooooh” and “aaaaah” with every boom of the fireworks being launched. We looked up at the sky, acting as if marveled by the fireworks, some of my kids’ friends even commented on the colors, lol… and people thought we were nuts. But within a few minutes, those immediately around us began to join us in the ooohing and aaahing, recognizing the opportunity to still have a laugh in the moment, even though the joke was on us, lol.

That trip has made for a wonderful tale to tell when folks have asked me, “So, what did you do over the holiday break?” But even more so, it became a reminder to me about how connected we are to one another. It’s easy to see this when you are lumped into a group like that – rounded up and corralled in a certain space, waiting for the much anticipated event. While waiting, it’s easy to strike up conversations with perfect strangers, inquire about their wait times for the more popular rides and discuss the attractions that they’ve enjoyed the most. It is as if the difference between class, race, or culture does not exist or at least has minimal significance at this point, because the more relevant piece is our commonality as Disney-attendees. We were all joined by this common fact… and we all experienced the same fate and the same disappointment when the fog ruined the fireworks show. This was equally distributed – no one got a better view because they paid more for special park privileges: we were all equals at that point in time because there was nothing to see… and no amount of money, special privileges or favors was going to change that sad fact.

And so, as I watched the crowd disburse - folks separating off to make tracks for their hotels, while others moved to ride on more rides, I wondered what happened to the comraderie that connected us all during that period of time... the moment had provided us a glimpse of mutuality, and yet, when all was said and done, we all seemed to be so willing to disappear back into our lives dictated by social boundaries, content to be strangers once again... 

It made me wonder... just how is it that we can forget our fundamental connection to one another?  Why do you suppose that is?

The Best Gifts of All...

Alas, Christmas is over… Don’t get me wrong, I love the holidays (it’s my favorite time of year) but it seems that over the years, things have become increasingly more hectic… Time is literally fleeting, lol.

I’ve also noticed that as I’ve gotten older, my taste in gifts has gotten more expensive (lol)… this same phenomena has been happening with my kids as well. They increasingly want the big ticket items, whereas when they were younger, it was easier to please them with a box of crayons, playdoh, and Matchbox cars. It’s challenging to get them to focus on the reason for the season and to understand the real gifts in life…

Thus, while reflecting about my most treasured gifts, I found myself thinking about my experiences in 2011… just what did happen this year?

Well, I certainly had my share of up’s and down’s... I was blessed with a stable job situation so my family didn’t have to worry about where they were getting their next meal or where we were going to sleep that night. I received the loving support of numerous family and friends - prodding me onward on those days when I just wanted to throw in the towel and sit on the sidelines. This year was also one of pain and loss - having to say good bye to loved ones that passed away and to relationships that moved on.

But through all things, these collective events are joined by a common thread: the fact that these experiences – great or small - were gifts – gifts that would allow me to grow just a tad bit more and helped me to appreciate the joys and follies the year had to offer. So here it is, my list of the Best Gifts of All:



RELATIONSHIPS – Without a doubt, the unswaying love and support I have received over the years from my friends and family is what has carried me through the toughest times in life. This year was no exception – my friends being my source of refuge and comfort… my home base. Because of their unconditional acceptance, I can be my vulnerable self with them… they allow me to share my up’s, my downs, and my periodic lapses in judgment (lol). In the end, they always see the beauty within and have served to safeguard my spirit when life has taken its toll.

INSIGHT – The year was fraught with many an “a-hah” moment for me, helping me to gain a deeper sense of understanding as to why things happen as they do, especially when things don’t go as planned. As a control freak in recovery, I am learning to let go more and more – giving myself to the present so that I might fathom the significance of the moment, the here and now. In the words of the wise Buddhist nun, Pema Chodron, “only to the extent that we expose ourselves over and over to annihilation can that which is indestructible in us be found.” It is a process… and reflection and insight have enabled me to deepen my sense of self and appreciate the awakening that occurs as a result.

PERPSECTIVE – While I like to think that I am open-minded and can see things from multiple perspectives… the reality is that I have some inherent limitations. My thinking is biased, colored by the many boundaries of my life experiences. Thankfully, a multitude of people – friends, colleagues, fellow bloggers, writers and even my kids -have shared with me the wisdom of their perspective. And in doing so, they have given me different angles with which to see and understand things. Oftentimes, when I am unable to see the forest from the trees, it is through these multiple lenses that I am able to not only see the forest and the tress, but the path that runs through it.  

WISDOM – For me, gaining knowledge comes with living and learning. In this context, I am not referring to “knowledge” that is usually acquired by reading a book or obtaining a particular degree – I’m referring here to the idea of being life smart – learning the lessons that life has to teach me, gaining a greater sense of self and embracing the joys and disappointments in life equally. George Bernard Shaw once said, “A life spent making mistakes is not only more honorable, but more useful than a life spent doing nothing.” I take comfort knowing that my many blunders this year were not for naught, lol.

COMPASSION – As I listened to Fr. Boyle (founder of Homeboy Industries and a humanitarian) speak at a conference I attended, I learned what it meant to have compassion. His anecdotal stories about the homies and homegirls he worked with made me realize that compassion has no limitations – there is no “us vs. them,” only us.  “Compassion is not a relationship between the healer and the wounded. It's a relationship between equals… [it] becomes real when we recognize our shared humanity.” (Pema Chodron) It is about seeing that in the grand scheme of things, no life is worth more or less than others; that I share more commonalities with folks than I do differences.

LOVE – What can I say about LOVE? Probably so much that it could be a separate blog post in and of itself, lol. But here’s what my experience with love was like this year: I knew love in its many forms and dimensions… romantic love, supportive love, unconditional love… gratefully, love has continued to be a central part of my life. It is what sustains me: it rejuvenates my soul when all feels lost, and rekindles my spirit when darkness wanders in. And while love tends to contribute to the range of emotions I might experience, it is because of love that I have been given the gifts of relationship, insight, perspective, wisdom, and compassion.

Thankfully over the years, I’ve gained a richer perspective on the holiday season…

it’s made me much more appreciative for the intangible gifts in life. I’ve learned to recognize that sometimes what I want is not necessarily what I need.

I now understand that “the season of giving” did not stop at Christmas, it continued all year long for me – maybe it wasn’t exactly the way I wanted things to happen or how I had planned… perhaps it was even getting something that I didn’t want. But in the end, my experiences with people – be they brief encounters or long-term relationships – have filled me in some way… always bringing me back to me – and that is the greatest gift of all.

Owning the Age Thing...

The holidays are my favorite time of year – not only because it’s the holidays and there's festivities that surround it, but because my birthday falls somewhere in between Thanksgiving and Christmas. But this year is special… special because I am turning FIFTY, Whoo-hoo!

Now, I can proudly utter my age and make no bones about it… but I’ve noticed that that’s not necessarily the case for many people (mostly women) who are midlifers. WHY? How did we become a society where the older we get, it becomes almost embarrassing to utter our age? Why is it we can benefit from the wisdom of aging and still be stigmatized for it?

Well, I suspect that for many folks it has to do with the images we’ve been inundated with for decades, i.e., that youth or youthfulness is the ideal image to have… not aging. Hence, once many of us get past being able to “pass,” panic can set in and many folks start to resort to the promise of agelessness via the plethora of plastic surgeons, anti-aging skins creams, botox specialists, laser treatment centers, and hair replacement remedies. It’s a billion dollar industry that benefits by keeping the cultural mindset on staying young.

The unfortunate happenstance to all of this is that there is so much emphasis on our outer appearances that we fail to see the beauty within ourselves. We forget that true beauty lies within one's character not with exterior features. Now that is a shame!

For me, age is a state a mind (yes, I can say that despite the aches and pains I do feel now and then after a good workout). And getting older is as natural as living. So I’m not apologizing for getter older nor am I buying this “shame-on-me-for-getting-older” gimmick that the beauty industry would have me soak in. No, instead I choose to be me… a 50 year old who appreciates the wisdom gained with life experiences… in awe at the constant development of life and all its creatures… and one who embraces the knowledge that if life is all about the journey, then one might as well have fun along the way.

So, just for FUN, I tried my hand at creating a David Letterman’s list on the top 10 reasons why it’s great to be aging as a midlifer.

TOP TEN REASONS IT’S GREAT TO BE AGING AS A MIDLIFER:

10. Your frequent trips to the bathroom can now be blamed on getting older instead of just having a weak bladder.

9. You can say more things uncensored and most young adults will not correct you but merely smile and nod.

8. It takes less time to shave body hair (although, for women we seem to get hair in places we didn’t use to it, so maybe this is a double-edged sword, lol, does this happen for men?)

7. You are more comfortable in saying WHAT you want to say, to WHOM you want to say it to WHEN you want to say it.

6. More often than not, nobody questions if you’re right or not when you’re recalling something circa the 1990’s because the younger ones weren’t even born yet.

5. You can take pride in identifying the original artist(s) and song(s) that are playing from a new song (I’ve also noticed that this applies to dance steps as well, i.e., some old moves get new names too).

4. You’ve lived long enough to know that fashion recycles itself, so if you hold on to choice pieces of clothing and shoes long enough, they always come back in style at some point in your life.

3. You can blame your momentary lapses in the brain or forgetfulness on having a “senior moment.”

2. You care less about what others think about how you look and more about how you feel when you’re with them.

1. You have more clarity about personal limitations (just because you can doesn’t mean you should); 

You have a greater understanding of what you can change about yourself and should;

And the wisdom to know whether you’ve already been there and done that.  

Okay, that’s my stab at laughing at life. How about you – what others would you add to the list???? You can probably do better than this, so please share. The more the merrier…  and CHEERS to aging, cheers to life!

Being Grateful for the Bumps & Lumps in Life…

It’s almost Thanksgiving… again. A signal that the holidays are fast approaching and that we will be closing out the 2011 year in the very near future. Like most of us, this particular holiday is one that gives me pause to stop and think about the abundance of blessings I have enjoyed over the year. Initially, I thought I’d write about what I am grateful for and so on… how original, right? Lol. But lately, a number of events have been happening that have given me pause to reflect on the state of my life in different ways.

It has made me wonder - just how did I get here? The short-answer to a long story: the bumps and lumps…

Yes, that’s right - those nasty and wicked events in our lives that we didn’t ask for, couldn’t or didn’t anticipate, and really would care not to repeat again in any lifetime. I’m talking about those dark moments in our lives when (at the time) life seemed grim, hope was all but dashed, or in some instances, one experienced heartache and grief beyond belief. Yes those…

Those treacherous bumps and lumps – as much as I hate to acknowledge it – are also responsible for a lot of the good that’s happened in my life as well. For example, despite two bad marriages, I have two wonderful kids. Moreover, if any of my marriages had lasted, there is no doubt in my mind that I would be leading a much different life right now than I am today… and probably would be living in a different town as well.

I would not have had the opportunity to meet the many beautiful people that have come into my life over the past few years – people who have touched me in ways that makes the heart grow stronger. Even some of my personal relationships that went awry have managed to help me heal from past hurts (as strange as that may sound). With the new people in my life, I have learned more about myself than I could ever have imagined.

Because of those dear bumps and lumps, I started taking dance lessons. Dance has always been a part of my soul as I was always in dance classes since I was little. But oddly enough, dance was always the first thing that left my life when all the responsibilities of marriage, children and work required my attention. So it was like finding an old friend when I finally step foot into a dance studio and began to move to music again.

I certainly would not be writing either were it not for the bumps or lumps that put me on this path. I actually thought I was on the path to being an academic, working on research articles for publication in a peer reviewed journal as I worked towards tenure. I thought I was on that track… I hadn’t even dared to dream of writing in a creative forum, what more write for my own blog.

It was inconceivable at the time, but then the bumps and lumps present themselves in such a way that even the best laid plans can be foiled. Ever have that experience?  

Thus, while those darn bumps and lumps are genuine and REAL pains in the you know what … they are also responsible for some REAL good that often comes about in due time. Time being the operative word here.

In time, the bumps and lumps dissipate - having served their purpose. We, on the other hand, also figure out how to survive the experiences. By “survive” I mean that we have selected a course of action, i.e., thinking about how to move on beyond the bump or lump itself. Do we keep the lesson to be learned or do we simply dismiss it as a fluke or major inconvenience in our lives? Do we manage to laugh back at life or do we retreat – feeling defeated by life itself? We have choices, and how we choose to survive the experience(s) often sets the tone for how we continue living.

In my opinion, bumps and lumps have gotten a bad rap and not enough credit. The most likely reason, of course, is because while we are experiencing the adverse event(s), we fail to see its larger purpose: the proverbial silver lining to it all. These days, I have come to think about bumps and lumps as those road grooves or reflectors in the road that remind you when you have strayed off the road too much. When the car hits them, they make enough sound to get your attention and get you back into your lane. Perhaps bumps and lumps function in this manner: maybe they act as guardrails in order to get us back on track when we have managed to wander too far from our life’s path. Perhaps they are mechanisms that help us refocus or shift our attention to where it needs to be in order for us to live life more fully.  

And so it is with gratitude and appreciation that I give thanks this year, not only for all the blessings that have come into my life, but for the many bumps and lumps that have landed in my life as well… without whose guidance I would not (and could not) be here where I am today.

Many blessings to you and your families!