Monthly Archives: January 2014

Letter to my younger self…

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robin25I read a book a long time ago called “What I Know Now: Letter to My Younger Self”.  I was in my office the other day working on a grant and saw it on a shelf and thought about what a great idea it would be to write a letter to my younger self.  What would I want her to know?  Then I realized it would depend on what age I was so I decided on writing a letter to my 25 year old self.  At 25, I was in my second year of my master’s degree program. I remember wearing a tie-dyed t-shirt that my husband bought me for a birthday present to teach class in that day.  I remember having a huge existential crisis over the fact that I was turning 25 and that seemed so old and grown up.  I was already married with a 7 year old and a 2 year old but for some reason, turning 25 made me feel very old.

graduationAt 25, I had already put myself through undergraduate school and graduated Magna cum Laude and was driven to succeed in graduate school.  Even though I had gone through a teacher education program, my teaching assistant position at a 4 year university felt like an internship where I was able to get more practice at being a teacher before teaching high school. I had the help of a great friend and math teacher Danny Lueck who passed away a few years ago.  I remember those times sitting in my living room grading 120 papers and he would be giving me advice on how to grade them more efficiently so that I wouldn’t go crazy. He was a good friend.  I would go on to teach public high school for over a decade before returning to graduate school again to get my PhD and moving into higher education. Along the way, building my career, I sacrificed a lot of my personal life. I don’t regret my education or my job path.  It has allowed me to make an impact on the world, but it also came with a price.

Going through this letter-writing process was a great one for reminding me of where I was and where I am now.  If you are over 35, I suggest trying this.  Don’t just think of what you would say to your younger self, actually take the time to write it out.  If you are under 35, I suggest writing a letter to your older self.  Add 20 years to your age and tell that older you what you want them never to forget.  Put it away and then read it again in a few years and see how you are doing.  You could even make it a tradition every 5 years to go back and reread and then write a new letter.  Just a thought.

Dear Robin,

I see you standing there, in front of that class of undergraduates who are barely younger than you.  There are so many of them, looking toward you like you have the answers to all their problems in math.  Yet you are standing there shaking in your shoes because you know you are going to screw up.  Yes you will, so stop worrying about it.  You will survive the embarrassment of calling a hypotenuse a hypothesis for a whole class until one of your students points it out.  You will survive your first (and subsequent) altercation with students where you have to confront them on discipline issues.  You will weather the storm on the first (and subsequent) time that someone complains about your teaching.  The thing to remember is this: you are going to be a great teacher but that greatness doesn’t come without making a bunch of mistakes.  Let go of the control and thinking you have all the answers, don’t be afraid to say “I don’t know but I will find out and let you know tomorrow”, and don’t be afraid to ask the kids “I don’t know, what do you think?” and let them come up with their own answers.  They will learn more that way.  Never back a kid into a corner, always give them a way out and a way to save face.  Laugh at yourself, have sense of humor in your classroom, don’t take things so seriously. 1432_596970479433_9919_n

1432_596970474443_9679_nThat goes for your personal life too.  You are far too serious for being 25 years old.  Look at your two beautiful children, they need a mother that laughs and plays with them.  They will grow up to be amazing human beings, your pride in them will know no bounds.  I wish I could say you aren’t going to make any mistakes in raising them, but you are.  They will love you despite the times you screw up.  Play with them more, be unrestrained, show them how to have adventures.  And while you are at it, have some yourself.  It is okay to be concerned with your career, it is going to take you places you never imagined.  But don’t let it get in the way of adventures.  They are what fuels your soul.  They don’t have to be big or cost lots of money, you just have to be willing to let go of control, not be perfect, and get lost in the moment of life. 

Try not to spend all of your life being perfect. Someday that perfect life will shatter into a million pieces and you won’t know how to deal with it.  The key to surviving that is to realize that imperfection is where the good stuff of life happens. Your life will start when you are willing to jump in and do stuff without fearing you’ll make a mistake. Fear is where the fun starts, it isn’t the paralyzing emotion that you think it is.  Face what you are most afraid of head on with no hesitation.  It will set you free.

You did a great job at 25, allowing yourself to trust your husband, have kids, build a great life. Those choices will make you very happy over the next 20 years.  You will have no regrets about raising your family, living in the town that you choose, having the wonderful friends that you have.  Never look back on that time with regrets, it is magic time, filled with wonder.  Someday, after your life falls apart, you will build a new life, very different from that.  It is okay, nothing lasts forever. You will move on.  During that rebuilding time, my advice to you is try to let go faster. It really is the key to being happy.  You have to learn how to recognize when a relationship is at its end and be okay with that.  Cherish the relationship for what it brought you and look with anticipation at the next one that will come into your life.  A relationship ends when it has fulfilled its need in your life and its ending opens up a space to allow you another one that will meet different needs.

A couple of things I really want you to remember:

  • Your hair doesn’t matter as much as you think it does, don’t waste so much time and money on it.
  • Stand closer to the fire.  Don’t stand on the periphery of life, get in where it is warm, where life is happening.
  • Dance more and don’t stop singing. The day might come when you will forget how much joy these things bring to life so capture the joy while you can.
  • Make mistakes.  It is how you learn and grow.
  • Take care of your body.  You will spend money, time, and energy taking care of your house or cars while ignoring the one thing in your life that can’t be replaced, your health.  Put your effort and energy into making sure the one body you have to go through this life with is always running in peak condition.
  • Take the harder road, make the more difficult choice.  Yes, the learning curve is larger, but there is a reason the phrase “no guts, no glory” came about.  The harder road is the greater opportunity. You won’t get where you want to be by playing it safe.
  • Don’t be afraid to embrace the people who come into your life for the gifts they are.  And don’t be afraid to let them go when it is time.
  • Someday, you will meet some sketchy internet people, they are trustworthy.  They will help you find your voice again.
  • Someday, in your darkest hours, you will meet someone who is going to change your life.  He is young and it seems an odd friendship and you will question it many, many times. Don’t.  Risk trusting this person, he will teach you how to play again after a lifetime of responsibility.  He will teach you how to be strong.  He will teach you about the person you want to be. He will help you find your soul. 

You are going to have the best life ever.  Live every day of it.

Robin

The long walk home…

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When I decided to stop traveling and move back to the northwest, I rented a house in a rural area.  I have done the urban lifestyle for a few years and I just decided it was time to get back to my roots.  It is a fantastic house in a great location and has lots of outdoor space to play in.  The only problem with it so far is its lack of access to public transit.  Because of that I have found myself driving everywhere and that isn’t going to work for me.

So the other day I got my bike tuned up with a renewed zeal to ride everywhere and stop using my car.  The only thing I don’t yet have are new lights for my bike, but those will come in time and as the days get lighter longer, they won’t even be needed.  In the meantime, I am walking the 2 miles to the nearest bus stop.

I lamented that at first but then the other night, my attitude totally turned around.  I wanted to go downtown to meet some friends for happy hour.  The commute by bus is 33 minutes from the bus stop and costs $2.50.  So round-trip is $5 and about an hour commute. Driving at that time of day would have been longer and it would have cost me more money in gas, so economically it made sense.  There is also the alcohol aspect.  I don’t drink and drive so the bus is a great option to be able to enjoy happy hour and then let someone else do the driving for me after I have had a couple of glasses of wine, or in the case of Wednesday, vodka tonics.

So I am walking to the bus stop and on the way I was thinking about a Facebook conversation about race, class, and privilege. I remembered watching a movie called the Long Walk Home about the Montgomery Bus Boycott in 1955. It was sparked when Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat to a white passenger and was arrested.  At that time, white people boarded the bus and filled up the rows starting in the front and moving toward the back.  Black people started in the back and filled in the rows moving toward the front. When the rows met and the bus was full, black passengers would have to stand if they got on the bus.  If a white person entered the entire first row of blacks had to stand and give their row to a white person.  Rosa Parks refused.  This sparked a bus boycott.

Boycotts are hard things to pull off. A person has to be committed to their cause enough to sacrifice whatever service or product they are receiving from the entity they are boycotting.  And it has to be a big enough sacrifice by enough people to make a difference.  Since 75% of the bus ridership was African-American, the Montgomery boycott was successful in ending segregation on public buses, but it wasn’t without cost to the people who were standing their ground for what they believed was right.

There were people that had to get up long before dawn to walk the 10 miles to work, work all day, then walk the 10 miles home at which time, they had to take care of their chores at home also.  Ten miles.  Even at a decent clip of 4 mph, that is at least 5 hours walking time each day.  That meant leaving home at least by 5:30 in the morning if you were working 8-5 and getting home past 7:30. That is sacrificing for your beliefs.  Who to hell am I to be bitching about 2 miles to the bus stop?  In Nepal and Spain, I walked or cycled almost exclusively except for a couple of times of riding on the bus. How does being back in the land of great roads and gas sucking SUV’s all of sudden turn me into a pile of mush that I can’t walk a couple of miles?

So there was a whole shift in my attitude.  I realized it is worth a 4 mile round trip.  In reality, the 4 extra miles of working out is good for my physical health. Being outdoors for that extra hour every day makes also me more centered and contributes to my overall well-being. I get to walk through an amazingly beautiful area with wetlands and eagles and even saw a beautiful blue jay on my walk yesterday. And I believe that taking public transit, walking, or riding my bike is better for the environment.  So I am trying to make that walk be part of my routine.  Whether headed to the bus stop, the gym, or wherever I am going, it is only two miles there and two miles back.  It isn’t like it is a long walk home.

An elimination diet for your soul…

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Have you ever done an elimination diet?  It is an extreme diet that people do when they are having digestion problems or allergies and want to isolate what particular foods are causing their distress.  The dieter takes their nutrition down to the basics for a few weeks and then add in foods one at a time to see what particular foods are contributing to their physical difficulties. It is really hard, but it make so much sense.  How else will they figure out what makes them feel good or bad so they can make adjustments?  It is virtually impossible when you are eating all your regular foods to isolate the combinations that are problematic.  Before people go to that extreme, they start with a food journal, writing down what they ate and how they feel, but when that doesn’t work, it is time for an elimination diet.

Right now with everything I have done in the past year, I feel like I have been on an elimination diet for my soul and I am finally at the place where I get to add stuff back in, slowly and deliberately with one thing being added in at a time.  That way, I get to try it, see how it feels, and decide if it makes me feel good enough to keep in my life. When I got back, I started off too fast, trying to go right back to the life I had.  But as Matt reminded me recently, I am not that person anymore.  So after Jan 1, I have been being a lot more deliberate in my actions and in the relationships I am cultivating.

So what have I added back?

16625_10100900261346063_799026473_nSkiing: I have been doing a lot of skiing by myself and with just a few very close friends.  It has renewed my love for the sound of the snow under my skis, the smell of the mountain air, the breathtaking views,  the solitude when I am alone, and just the whole body sensation of flying down a mountain.  I love to ski. The last couple of years I allowed myself to get too wrapped up in the social aspect of skiing and needed to step away.  It is really a joy to reconnect with the sport I love on its elemental level.

Yesterday, I got my bike ready to ride and I am going to ride either tomorrow or Saturday.  The only thing I love as much as skiing is riding my bike.  I don’t need to go fast, climb better than anyone else, dress in appropriate attire or any of that stuff that cyclists worry about.  Getting caught up in all that made me hate riding my bike.  I just love the feeling of being outdoors, braving the weather, feeling like I am one with the machine that is making me fly along, just pure joy coursing through my body as my heart, lungs and legs make me remember that I am alive.  It makes me feel like I am a 10 year old.  This time, I am going to take the advice of my friend, Cindy and make time for pie at the end of a ride.

Kerry Park view

Kerry Park view

I have been enjoying going to some of the great places that I love in Seattle, happy hours up on the Hill with Tony, going up to Kerry Park for meditation and reflection, riding the ferries, the beauty of rural Snohomish County, the jaw-dropping views of the Cascades and Olympics, cooking in a real kitchen again, sharing laughter and a meal with my roommate and her daughter, building a fire, chopping and stacking wood, and learning how to knit.  These are all things I am keeping.

But it hasn’t been easy.  I have struggled and even messed up a few times. The other day, I bought sheets and a blanket.  Now I own household stuff again.  I have to admit, it was a little traumatizing.  It made me feel tied down.  I made it worse when I then watched “Into the Wild” for the first time and it made me feel REALLY tied down.  I have struggled with trying to work on a grant and a few publications.  But mostly, I have struggled when the people who know me from my former life put pressure on me to be the way I was.  I don’t want to be that person anymore. I don’t want to say yes to everyone and allow people to treat me badly just so that I won’t offend anyone or let anyone down. Because ultimately, when I act that way, all I am doing is letting myself down.  That has meant culling some relationships that aren’t healthy for me which has hurt people because they don’t understand why I am not just like I used to be.  It is hard not having any answers for them of when I will want to do things again, because the honest answer is that I may never want to do some things again.

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Olympics and a Washington State ferry in the Puget Sound

Right now, all I know right now is this, I feel better than I ever remember feeling.  I am making decisions based on strength and on what I really want to do.  My past doesn’t control me, fear doesn’t control me, and my choices are my own.  So I guess, the elimination diet for the soul is working so far.

That was when I lived in a morgue…

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Of all the stories I expected to hear on my story collecting adventure, the words “I lived in a morgue” probably never made my list. But my friend Keri did, in fact, live in a morgue and even has some incredible pictures to prove it. In the midst of a casual conversation the other night, she uttered the words “when I lived in the morgue”…say WHAT?  When prompted for the story, she revealed that she and several other ski instructors lived there together when they were working in Garmisch, Germany. She dragged our her old photo album and told the story as we scrolled through her awesome pictures that showed a bunch of twenty-somethings living it up in this funky place with a half-moon shaped area where at one time bodies were viewed, a kitchen that had once been where embalming happened and had no counter space at all because of that, and Keri’s bedroom which had previously been where the crematorium ovens were located.  There were also some underground tunnels from the old hospital to the morgue that were built during the war so that the German public wouldn’t know how many men were dying in the war.  It was kind of freaky, but they had some incredible parties in that “house”.  Halloween must have been awesome.

It is funny because I have known Keri for the last seven years but did not know that about her. What made that story even more interesting is Keri herself.  Of all the people I know who might have uttered the words “I lived in a morgue”, she would have been the last person I would have expected. Keri is one of the most amazingly even keeled and centered people I have ever met.  Yet, in hindsight, maybe it isn’t so surprising after all.  Keri also flows easily in her life taking whatever opportunities that come up with little hesitation.  She lives her life fully every day.  She is a remarkable and courageous person.

One of the things I love about our friendship is how easy it is.  When we haven’t seen each other in a while, we can pick right up where we left off.  We talk to each other about our lives, dreams, fears, joys, and sorrows.  She gives the best advice and I value her wisdom.  She has a way of understanding human interactions that cuts through all the subterfuge. Out of all my friends, she is one of the best at self-care and boundaries.

I have been thinking a lot about relationships this week, both friendships and intimate relationships. I am in the midst of taking a hard look at my relationships and reflecting on the ones that add value to my life and to which I am adding value in return. Great relationships that add significance to my life, like the ones I share with my closest friends, take open communication of both the good and the bad of our lives. These relationships are easy because we are willing to be open and authentic with each other, telling each other our truths while respecting how each feels.  Frankly, I don’t want any other kind of relationships in my life other than easy ones.  Relationships with people who don’t keep their word, lie, use subterfuge, give you the silent treatment, or omit details to try to avoid conflict just take too much effort and energy. Relationships should be easy.

However, I think a mistake that is common in intimate relationships is believing that one person can meet all our needs. It is impossible for one person to meet all our needs and it would be a huge burden on any one person to try to accomplish that.  Life is enriched by all our relationships not just the intimate ones. Relationships with a variety of people give us perspective from many angles and broaden our understanding of the world around us.. Life becomes rich and full when we embrace all of those various relationships.

As a caveat, it also must be considered that inherent in relationships is a measure of risk.  When we trust others with our vulnerabilities, we stand the risk of being rejected, hurt, used, and taken for granted.  When that happens and a valued relationship ends, it is hard to pick up the threads of trust to try again.  But try we must.  Human beings were not meant to live in isolation from others.  Our relationships bring us wisdom, joy, beauty, poetry, happiness, physical comfort, sorrow, grief, and the whole range of human emotions.  Through those relationships we find strength and comfort when the problems of the world rise around us.  It is also through those relationships that we grow and reach our fullest potential.  Without them, we die, maybe not all at once, but our soul dies day by isolating day.  And we live in our own private morgue, not one that has a bunch of fellow ski instructors who are full of life, but in the shells of our bodies going through the motions of life.

My Life Divided by Zero advice for this week is to collect a story, have a conversation with someone, find out a really interesting fact that you didn’t previously know and tell them something about you in return. Risk, trust, open up and be vulnerable to someone.  You might get hurt, but at least you will be alive. And you will probably come away with a great story to tell.  And that is what our lives are…a collection of stories.

You’ve got to dance with the one that brung ya…

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You’ve got to dance with the one that brung ya…I have always liked that phrase.  To me, it is a reminder to do what is right even when others would suggest otherwise and to be loyal to those in my life who have helped me get where I am.

The reality of my life is that I got to where I am…a person having great adventures, happy, centered, feeling, and living every moment… because of all the things that have happened to me.  Take away any part and I wouldn’t be me.  I have spent a lot of time bemoaning things especially when I am at low points like when I am scared or lonely… but bemoaning and regrets are not only futile, they take away from my power to be who I think I am and that I want to be.  And that is my goal, to be the person I think I am.

One of the things that got me here is the loss of my marriage to someone who I loved with all my heart which was the catalyst for change, good change that brought me to where I am at this moment.  That path to change started with marriage therapy, it was the first dance that got me here.

I am not a big fan of the mental health care system even though I have several close friends who are therapists and I respect and appreciate what they do.  One of my major concerns is that there is too much power given to the therapist with the assumption that they will act with ethics but no policing of that system unless a client complains.  However there is little client education of boundaries and appropriate behavior so when the therapist crosses a boundary, the client takes it on trust that the therapist knows what they are doing, even if the situation feels icky and uncomfortable.  The trust required in the therapeutic relationship allows therapists to wield enormous psychological influence which, when handled correctly, produces the magic of positive change in people’s lives.  But when handled incorrectly can produce devastating results.  I know because it is what happened to me.

I trusted my marriage therapist with all my heart, way more than I should have ever trusted a service provider. I told him all of my secrets, things that I had never told any living person.  As a result, therapy was very successful for me, although not so much for my marriage.  I sent him daily journals via email, he said it helped make him a better therapist knowing all my thoughts.  I paid him even though he was still in graduate school and shouldn’t have accepted money.  When therapy “ended” when I moved to Seattle, I continued to communicate with him weekly and send him my journals.  A couple of months later, he moved to Seattle where we started riding mountain bikes, kayaking, skiing, I introduced him to my social group, I watched his dog every weekend, took him to dinner, he stored his stuff in my house and even stayed at my house.  In all of this, I paid for everything.   All the while I was still sending him my journals and telling him my problems. In my mind he was still my therapist.

We first crossed the major boundary the night before Thanksgiving in 2007 when we went out drinking and he got hammered. When I drove him home, we stayed up talking until after 3 am.  That started a three year “friendship”.  Multiple times I told him that it didn’t “feel” right, that I couldn’t separate the therapist from the “friend”.  He would assure me that it was all in my head.  And he was right, it was.  In my head, I knew it was wrong.  So I found another therapist to help me figure that out.  She reported him to the licensing board. The state of Washington found that I was an “isolated incident, unlikely to happen again” so he can keep his practice. End of story. Except that it wasn’t.

For me, the loss of this person who had been so instrumental to me, who I had trusted without question, was psychologically and emotionally one of the most devastating ordeals of my life. I almost didn’t make it.  It was with the help of a bunch of people from an online bike forum that I found my voice and my power again. I can never repay what they gave me, freely, without knowing me or expecting anything from me in return.

Needless to say, there have been some huge violations of trust for me from the mental health community. So what I am about to do scares the absolute daylights out of me.  I have realized that, although I have the best life ever, there are a couple of areas that I could work on to make it even better. And I need some help with that.  So I am leaping…I made an appointment and I am going back to therapy.  This time, I am armed with knowledge of what therapy should and should not be. This time, I am going to therapy from a position of strength, not in a moment of weakness. I won’t allow myself to be preyed upon because I am not the same person anymore (thanks Matt for the reminder). It is time I learn how to trust again.

And so I am dancing… with the one that brung me… not the former exploitative therapist, but with the mental health care profession in general. I am taking the risk to be able to have the life I want.  My goal is to be the person that I believe I am.

On being human…

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Sometimes I wonder at how the human race has been able to survive.  Humans can be pretty stupid. At least this human can.  There are a set of behaviors that, when I do them, make me feel great.  When I don’t do them or do them half-assed, then I feel like crap. So it seems really simple that I would do the behaviors right?  Wrong.

When I am not exercising, I make every excuse in the world to not go exercise.  I say things like I don’t feel well, or I didn’t sleep well, or I don’t have time because I need to work… blah, blah, blah.  In actuality, if I make time to exercise then I have more energy to get more work done, I sleep better and it makes me feel amazingly great.

That leads to the question, why don’t I consistently exercise?  I am sort of a yo-yo exerciser.  There are times in my life that I have been very consistent, usually when my life is in routine. Then something happens, usually something big that takes me out of my routine…a death, surgery, moving, etc.  And then months (years) go by until I am on the edge of miserable and pick up the threads of exercise again and get into a routine.  You’d think by now, at 50 years old, I have learned to keep my exercise routine especially when my life is out of routine.  Nope, not yet.

Another behavior that I have to do to maintain good health is eat right.  I am not a fan of any certain diet plan, but I do believe we are what we eat so I prefer to just eat real food.  I try to eat things that have ingredients my grandmother would have recognized.  So nothing that contains diglycerides or weird words like that and no “artificial” colors or flavors.  I mean really, what is in an artificial flavor anyway?  Why not just use the real flavor?  When I eat real food, my body just feels good.

When I am not eating right, I make every excuse in the world to eat crap.  I don’t have time because of work, I don’t feel well so I want comfort food, I am tired so don’t feel like cooking wholesome food… blah, blah, blah. In actuality, if I make time to cook great food, I have more energy for work, I feel better and I sleep better.  HMM…I am seeing a pattern here.

So why don’t I just eat right all the time?  Well usually it starts with doing something outside my routine like visiting people or going to a party, packing and moving, traveling, etc….times when it is easy to stop for something quick or throw together something processed.  Then it just spirals downward.  Finally, when I feel like crap, I get back into a routine of cooking and then I feel great again.  You’d think by now, at 50 years old, I’d have learned the lesson of staying in a routine of eating well especially when my life is out of its routine.  Nope, not yet.

A third behavior is making time for fun, rest and relaxation. When I do that each day, give myself a little time to just let down, I am a lot more centered and happy.  But instead, I take fun activities and make them stressful by putting pressure on myself to do things perfectly.  Riding or working on a bike should be a fun activity, but I have to do it perfectly.  Skiing should be a fun activity but I have to do it perfectly. Knitting should be a fun activity but I have to do it perfectly. I can suck the joy right out of a fun activity.  So in essence, I make things chores that should be fun.  When I allow myself to let go and relax, I feel better, sleep better, and have more energy for work. Unfortunately, I don’t just practice perfection when I am out of routine, I do it all the time. I should change my name to Joyce Ucher.   By 50 years old, you’d think I’d have learned to work on consistently making time for fun and relaxation every day.  Nope, not yet.

No, I haven’t learned all of life’s lessons yet, but that is the great part of being human, to allow myself to make mistakes, very human mistakes. I feel great right now because I have been sticking to my intentions and my plans for my life that I made back in Nepal. I am getting back in a routine…. which is very different from the way my life has been since I started this blog.

So here is my lesson: today is a new day.  So whether you have stuck to your New Year’s resolutions or not, cut yourself some slack.  Remember that each day is a new day, it doesn’t have to be on January 1.  You can start again.  Today.

For me, today, I will do my best to eat right, exercise and relax.  Tomorrow, I will do my best for that day.  And maybe by the time I am 80, I will have learned.  Nope, probably not… but the thing I hope to have learned is just to do my best…every day.  I am never going to be perfect and I have to stop beating myself up whenever I am not.

Cheers and happy New Day!  Robin