That was when I lived in a morgue…

Posted on January 14, 2014 by rangotti

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…

Posted on January 9, 2014 by rangotti

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.

The life cycle of traditions

Posted on December 22, 2013 by rangotti

Some people, when given a sign, know exactly how to read that sign and what they should do about it. For me, the universe pretty much has to hit me over the head with a sign before I listen and change my course of action or beliefs.

When I was a teenager, I was pretty troubled. An old native American told me that I wouldn’t find my true spirit until I walked with the Raven. I didn’t know what he meant and I spent much of my life trying to decipher those words through the situations and the people around me. What I have realized is that even as a teenager, those words gave me hope. He didn’t tell me that I would never find my spirit, but that it would happen in the future. Hope is what most people need to get through life’s difficulties.

Last summer, I had the opportunity to travel around the country. Everywhere I went, when something transformative happened, there was a Raven there. I couldn’t help but remember the old man’s words. And at the time, it felt like chains were being released, emotional chains. Later in the year, I had the opportunity to go to Nepal and paraglide with Egyptian vultures. When I got back, one of my friends joked with me that my new name was Soars with Eagles. I laughed and made a joke back to him in the manner of friends teasing each other and then forgot about his comment until yesterday.

Photo by Richard A.

I have known I was a different person since I was in Nepal. Traveling changed me a lot. When I got back to Seattle, I was walking through a wooded area to the gym and the Raven story was on my mind. I looked up at one point in my walk and there, about 30 feet from me, was a gorgeous American bald eagle looking at me. He was just sitting in a dead tree and he was staring at me. It was one of those times where the hair on the back of my neck started to stand up and that odd feeling that something special was happening, where my gut was churning with emotion. Finally, after what felt like hours, he spread his wings and flew off.

I have a friend who is a shaman and when I told her about it she said “I think you are entering a new time in your life and the eagle is your guide”. Again, being the scientific linear thinking person that I am, I put it out of my mind. Then yesterday, when my roommate and I were trying to figure out what movie to watch for our solstice celebration (read more below), she said “the only appropriate movie I can think of is Dances with Wolves”. At that moment, all of the signs I just wrote about above converged in my head.

I realized the tradition of the raven was over. As a story, the last chapter of is written, now all I needed to find was a way to close it out. About an hour later, my friends Nick and Sarah called and asked if I wanted to meet for lunch at Black Raven Brewery. Yeah, okay universe, I get it. Nick, Sarah and I shared food and beer and toasted to lots of upcoming adventures we are planning. It was a great symbolic way to put an end to the Raven. But just because a story ends, doesn’t mean the characters in the story stop living, it just means they need to find another story to begin. Our stories, like all the traditions of our lives, have a life cycle.

Everyone has traditions. They are a fundamental part of the structure of the lives of human beings. We have traditions surrounding all of the big events in life: marriage, birth, death, etc. We also have everyday traditions or routines like brushing our teeth or going out for an Americano. And then there are traditions surrounding holidays and special days like birthdays or anniversaries. And then there are faith-based traditions. All of them are important parts of who we are.

Since my divorce, the holidays have been very difficult because those traditions, those foundational structures of my life, were just instantaneously dissolved, there was no closure or slow letting go. Getting older has also ended certain traditions, although through a slower process. My children have their own families now and are spending holidays and creating new traditions with those families just as they should be.

For me, I think that is one of the hardest parts of entering the autumn of my life. I guess like most people, I struggle with things changing. The empty nest syndrome when combined with the loss of your life partner is definitely a time of radical change. And just like any loss, traditions can’t just easily be replaced by something else. It takes closure and time to grieve for their loss before you can start a new tradition and that process has to be respected.

When my kids were younger and I was married, holidays were filled with time spent with my children, extended family, passing around a blessing cup for giving thanks, Christmas lights, caroling, great food, lots of love, homemade pizza, decorating the Christmas tree, stocking stuffer shopping followed by lunch with my ex-husband, and many other wonderful memories. I have missed those traditions, but just like I am finding with many parts of my life, I am ready to move on.

So yesterday, it hit me. I have been trying hard to recreate traditions to replace what has been lost. But just like with a lost pet or loved one, what is lost is gone forever. I have beautiful memories of that time in my life and by trying to totally eradicate them and replace those memories, I am not honoring all the love that is inherent in them. So instead of forgetting, I should try to find a way to honor those memories (skiing on holidays seems to work well for me) and then start wholly new traditions like celebrating the Solstice. I like this idea.

So yesterday, the day of the winter solstice in the northern hemisphere, my new roommate and I had a solstice celebration with tasty food, wassail, a fire and lots of candles to welcome the sun and long days back into the northern hemisphere. And we watched Dances with Wolves. I also took time to honor the planet and to give thanks for all that I have.

I am an incredibly fortunate person. I am thankful for my health, a great job, a loving family, two compassionate and thoughtful children who are in loving long-term relationships, and the most spectacular grandchildren ever. I have a warm home, plenty to eat, a fantastic roommate, caring and supportive friendships, and opportunities to have amazing adventures in my life. I have the best life ever and from now on, I am going to use the solstice to celebrate and give thanks for that life.

The Solstice seemed like an appropriate time to remember the cycles and rhythms of the planet as well as the cycles and rhythms of my life. It seems like a great new tradition has been born, a new life cycle has started. Happy Solstice and welcome winter!

The 8 boxes…

Posted on December 15, 2013 by rangotti

Yesterday, I unpacked my suitcase for the first time since May. It was bittersweet, I hadn’t expected the mix of emotions it would bring. As I unpacked and put my stuff away in a new house, new room, I couldn’t help but remember my last apartment and the last time my clothes hung in a closet. I was a little overwhelmed by all the changes.

I think that not having a home to come back to made my time travelling both physically simple yet emotionally challenging at the same time. Travelling and knowing you have a familiar and comfortable place to come back to is very different from returning home to the unknown of having to find a place to live. Add on the fact that I gave up all my stuff, an act which was both freeing and yet again, ridiculously challenging emotionally, and it made coming home and unpacking my clothes this surreal experience. And yes, I found a great house and a super roommate. Now I just have to adjust to a totally new life.

For those of you that haven’t read the back story, when I gave up my apartment in May and then started traveling in June, rather than put things in storage for a year, I reduced all of my possessions from the last 50 years of my life to 8 boxes, my checked bag of clothes and a carry on, and some gear stored at a friends house (thanks Jason!). It was the hardest thing I have ever done. At least, it was the hardest thing I have ever done…until now.

Yesterday, I opened one of the 8 boxes. I had thought that it would be a fun adventure to see what I had saved. Instead, it felt more like opening Pandora’s Box. The box I happened to open had pictures of my kids, a wood bowl that my uncle made, a ceramic heart that my daughter made when she was in elementary school, a box my son brought back from Australia when he was a teenager. Similar to the experience of hanging my clothes in the closet, it was like a blast of memories rising up out of the cardboard. I took out the big pieces and set them on a shelf in my room and then closed the box without going through the pictures. I didn’t open the other boxes yet.

Today, my roommate and I are going to put up a Christmas tree. I took out the two boxes of ornaments that I had saved. Everyone that knows me, knows how much I used to love the spirit of Christmas. Those ornaments represent 50 years of family holiday memories. I have to admit, I am not sure I can open the boxes.

So what is my problem? I had this amazing experience over the past 6 months. I am a different person. I shed the memories of the past and stepped into my present and hopefully my future. I am happy and moving on. The problem is, I don’t want to go back to revisit the past at all, I want to avoid thinking about it and just continue on with my happy life. It isn’t that I want to erase it or forget it, it is all part of what made me who I am. I just want to keep moving forward. But there is one thing I know for certain, when something feels difficult and I don’t want to do it, that is the very thing that I need to do the most. The hard things show me what I still need to work on. Hmm it might be time for some brutal honesty here Robin. I hate it when I have to really reach inside for the hard emotional stuff. Okay here goes…

So I am looking at those boxes and part of me wishes I hadn’t saved anything… and that feels like a betrayal to all the people who gave things to me. For example, in one of those packing crates are the Shaker boxes that my dad made me before he died and I should feel excited to open them up. But instead, I am torn. On one hand, I have these possessions that have memories of the people I love attached to them, possessions like Shaker boxes and ceramic hearts from people like my dad or my kids. On the other hand, I have the memories and the love of the people, I don’t need “stuff” to feel that. In fact, somehow the “stuff” diminishes from that love. I guess what is confusing me is that, in the last 6 months, I have felt the love of the people in my life in a really powerful way and that couldn’t have happened with possessions detracting and getting in the way.

I guess when all the possessions in my life had been stripped away and all I had was the love of my family and friends, my whole life was just clearer and uncluttered. The love I experienced over the last half year felt like the pure essence of what we are as human beings. I want to make sure that I don’t lose that feeling in the trappings of “stuff” again. That is really what I am scared of. Because material things, even handmade Shaker boxes made with love from my dad, can never replace the time spent with the people I love and who love me. So even though I have those boxes, they aren’t more valuable than all the memories or the time I spent with my dad when he was alive. The mementos and things I have from my children aren’t anything compared to the time I have spent with them and the love that we share.

I guess I have come to understand how much of a distraction all the stuff we have really is. Obtaining and caring for possessions, working to pay for them, using them to substitute for emotions, buying things to fill voids in our lives, all those things distract us from what is really important in life which is loving the people in our lives and spending time with them. That is the greatest lesson I have learned and I never want to forget it again. That is what I don’t want to go back to. Ever.

So I guess I am scared that opening those boxes and reattaching to things will distract me from putting my emphasis on people. Today, opening those ornaments, is going to be a challenge, but I have to do it. Avoidance is never a solution. I just need to breathe, stay present, be aware and I can totally do this.

Saying thank you

Posted on December 10, 2013 by rangotti

When I was mired in my life-altering changes of moving 3000 miles away from my support system and getting divorced, I found keeping a “thank-you” journal useful in helping me see the world from a positive perspective rather than succumbing to negative thoughts. At the end of every day, I would write down 5 things I was thankful for. It was difficult when I first started but as I kept up the habit, I found that I would be mindful about things throughout the day that I was thankful for so that I had 5 things to write in my journal at night. It helped me to learn to be thankful for the small everyday moments that I sometimes took for granted.

Recently, I had the privilege and pleasure of visiting with my friend Marvin and his lovely wife Naomi in Boston. Marvin is one of my imaginary internet friends from my cycling forum and a teammate from Team Collin. I am always thankful for my internet friends and don’t tell them enough what they mean to me. They are men and women who have encouraged me, listened to me cry (virtually), stuck with me during the dark times, and helped me become the woman I am. Just like with any large group, you become closer to some people than you are to others. Those I am close to, I trust without question. Marvin is one of those people. He has stood by me even when I have tried to push away his friendship, listened with unconditional acceptance, given me fantastic advice, made me laugh, and is one of those rare people of impeccable integrity and honor. His lovely wife is just as amazing, intelligent, thoughtful and accepting as he is and I felt honored to finally meet her and get to know her. She is as fabulous as he has described.

Marvin and Naomi let me stay at their home and showed me the depth of their loving hospitality and I hope to return the favor someday when they come to Seattle. We had great conversations and fantastic food. Although I am a hopeless insomniac, I felt so comfortable at their home, I slept better than I have since I visited Len and Ella (also imaginary internet friends) last summer. I can’t thank them enough for all that they gave me.

Marvin and my other internet friends remind me of my brothers who are also men of incredible honor and integrity just like our dad was, it was how we were raised. I am currently staying at the home of my brother Rod and my beautiful sister-in-law Ada. Again, they have offered me their hospitality, warmth, acceptance and love. I can’t thank them enough. My sister-in-law also happens to be the best massage therapist I have ever had. She has such a depth of knowledge of her craft and can reduce me to feeling like an unraveled mitten in no time. Total bliss. Thanks Ada!

Aside from being blessed by their generosity, because I visited them back-to-back, I noticed the similarities in both Marvin & Naomi’s relationship and Rod & Ada’s. I was thankful to have the opportunity to watch both of these long term couples interact and it has given me insight into my relationships. There are few key elements in their relationships and the way they treat each other that stood out to me. In no particular order, these include respect, laughter, affection, appreciation/value, and trust:

Respect. Whether it is choosing a movie for date night or supporting the other in going back to get a massage therapy license, each of these two couples respected their partner’s opinion. There was no competition, no belittling, just an acceptance of the other as an equal being worthy of respect and working together as a team.
Laughter. They tease each other, laugh at each other’s foibles, and they know that the teasing from their partner is with love and free of malice. They have fun together.
Affection. They hold hands, look into each other’s eyes, stop to hug each other. There is a communication between them that requires no words. Daily intimacy is key in keeping their relationships alive.
Appreciation and value. They appreciate what the other does and value what they bring to their lives. Whether it is making dinner, doing laundry, giving a massage, allowing an out-of-town friend or relative to come visit, … whatever. Each partner, without the other present, would talk about how much they appreciate their mate, how being with them makes their lives better, and what a good person he/she is.
Trust. They trust each other with a tangible, fundamental trust that can’t be described. It is the backbone of their healthy relationships.

There are more intangibles that I can’t describe, these couples have been together for a long time, but those are the things that really struck me. And their relationships hold a mirror up for me for all my relationships, not just romantic ones. The people I keep in my life are people I respect and who show me respect in return. They are people who I can laugh and have fun with. They are people that give affection and who appreciate and value what I bring to their lives and in whom I value in return and who outwardly show that value and appreciation. They are people I can trust. Those things are all necessary elements of healthy relationships.

Reflecting on that made me feel pretty good about the relationships I have been cultivating. For a long time, I felt I had to be liked by everyone. I put everyone’s needs ahead of my own and would keep giving my heart to relationships with people that really weren’t into having a reciprocal relationship with me. That mentality allowed me to be taken advantage of in some pretty extreme ways. Now, basking in the love of the healthy relationships I have, it is easy to see how much my current relationships enrich my life and how destructive those former relationships were.

So thank you to Marvin & Naomi and Rod & Ada for allowing me to glimpse your lives. And thank you to all my wonderful friends and family. I appreciate you. You all add tremendous value to my life.

You just jump…

Posted on December 8, 2013 by rangotti

I have written about this before but after talking with some wonderful new old friends last night, I figured it was worth another post. Fear is the great equalizer.

There is a great quote, “the only thing you have to fear is fear itself”. That is so true, my adventures have helped me to realize that whatever it is I am scared of in life, the “thing” isn’t the scary part, it is my fear of the thing. And if I can push myself through whatever I am afraid of then I own it, it doesn’t own me anymore.

So many of my readers of this blog think I am this adventurous, courageous, kick-ass person. I want to make sure you all realize, I am a chubby, average, plain person. I am scared of the most ridiculous things just like everyone else is. The one difference is that I have reached a point where I refuse to let the fear of those things rule my life. My friend Tony once described how I face fears. He said, “It is like you are climbing the ladder on the high dive. You complain and whine the whole way up about how you can’t do it. Then when you get to the top, with no fanfare, no agonizing… you just jump”. And that pretty much describes it. The initial whining and complaining is how I work my way though my fear and then, about the time my friends are ready to strangle me, I say “screw it” and just do it.

My friend Don4 once said “life is a gift, live it”. You can’t let fear rule your one ride on this planet. You have to live each day as if it were a gift and honor that gift to its fullest potential. When I was 44 and had just moved to Seattle, newly separated from a marriage that lasted over half my life and struggling to figure out what to do, my brother Rod said something to me that I remind myself of everyday. He said “Robin, you’ve got 30 more years. If there is something you want to do, you need to do it now, because when you are 74 you aren’t going to want to be whitewater kayaking or riding a mountain bike. You can either be like our mother who is constantly complaining about all she didn’t get to do and wishes she had or you can be talking about all the adventures that you did do”. Those words have stuck with me. Now at 50, I have 25 more years to get it done. I don’t have time to waste on fear holding me back.

Last night, I did something that was really scary. I went to a party with some people I hadn’t seen in 34 years since I left the small town I grew up in. Let me tell you, high school isn’t for everyone and it definitely wasn’t for me. I think, out of a graduating class of about 120, my class rank was in the 80’s. I didn’t put a whole lot of effort into being anything but a screw up. So there wasn’t really any reason that these people should accept me at all. And I was terrified. If I had allowed that fear to control what I did, then I wouldn’t be in Maine right now looking out at the beautiful sunrise over the river and I wouldn’t have had a chance to see my family. But even more tragically, I wouldn’t have allowed myself to reconnect with some absolutely amazing people that I got to talk to last night. I would have missed lots of laughter, funny glasses, and amazing stories. My only regret was not having time to have really deep conversations with all of them.

The people I got to spend the most time with were simply amazing. They are people of passion, they love their jobs, their families, and their communities. They have so much heart and compassion for the people and the world around them. They work hard and they play hard. They live their lives in ways that suck the marrow right out of the bones of life, no holes barred, open, authentic and absolutely wonderful. I couldn’t help but just be honored to be able to talk to them all. Thanks Kirk for the invite, it was a privilege to be able to see you all once again.

The lesson here for anyone that needs it… just jump. Do whatever you need to get up the ladder of the “fear” high dive: whine, cry, get angry, whatever you have to do. But once you reach the top… just jump. Don’t let fear ruin your opportunity to live your life on your own terms. What is the worst that could happen? Last night, if I hadn’t liked the party or if someone had said something untoward, I would have just left. Simple as that. But if you don’t try, you will never find those people who are meant to be in your life or who are meant to influence your life.

We have to put ourselves out into the world authentically as who we are. Those who want to be part of our lives will gravitate towards us, interested in us. Those who don’t just aren’t interested and that is okay. Not everyone is going to be interested, just like not everyone is interested in football or knitting. We all have different preferences. Why would we want people in our lives that really aren’t interested in the authentic people that we are? Why would we want people in our lives that we always have to be someone we aren’t just to get them to stay? Why would we want to waste so much of our precious gift of life and time on this earth in that kind of unhealthy relationship? Yet we do it all the time. I am guilty of it also. I have wasted years on one-sided, unhealthy friendships.

Just put yourself out there. Go to a restaurant, bring a book, or just sit at the bar and people watch and talk to the bartender. Go to a park and sit with the sunshine on your face enjoying nature around you. Take a class, learn someone new, maybe something you are even a little scared to try. Talk to your classmates, listen to them. Find the ones you gravitate toward and establish friendships. If they don’t reciprocate, they just weren’t the right person, let it go and move on to the next.

Last night I asked several people my two questions that I like to ask people when I meet them: 1) What do you want me to know about who you are? and 2) what don’t you want me to know? The people that can answer both those questions from their heart, risking the vulnerability for me to see inside their passions and their darkest fears, those are the people I gravitate toward. And last night, they answered my questions with amazing honesty and forthrightness. And I was honored and blessed to hear their stories. Thanks everyone!

Adventure of the day…

Posted on December 3, 2013 by rangotti

Sorry for being so absent about writing this blog. I have been distracted by having adventures with a beautiful set of two-and-a half-year-old twins.

I have mentioned that for a long time I was stuck in longing for my old life back. Even though I kept plodding along seemingly moving forward with my life, my heart was still wrapped in memories of the past. To those looking from the outside, it might seem like that time of longing was wasted, but it wasn’t. Everything is a process. For me, letting go of my life took a period of grieving and mourning. It took me a while to go through that process but it was absolutely necessary to be able to actually move on. Even when I was mired in that process and it seemed like I was stuck, I have come to realize that I didn’t keep standing still and I am proud of that. I made some mistakes, had some successes, and even though my heart was caught up in another time, I kept moving forward regardless. Or maybe, it was just that my friends kept shoving me forward but either way the result has been the same. Here I am.

Today, I am packing to leave my son’s house after a lovely visit with my son and his beautiful wife and the two most amazing grandchildren in the whole world (I might have mentioned that before). Although I am sad to be leaving, this time it isn’t the soul-sucking sadness that it has been in the past where I was pining for my life back. This time, it is different. I know that I will wrap these memories up from this visit and all the love they contain and I will keep them close to my heart while I am living the life I am in right now at this moment, confident that I always have the love of my family. And I know that someday soon, Patrick, Heather, Brooklyn, and Charlotte are going to come to visit me in Seattle and we will make a whole host of new memories.

So I am heading to Boston to visit some friends and play tourist in a city that I have loved since I was a teenager in New England. Then I am heading to Maine to see my family and to do something that I never ever thought I would do. I am going to go to a party where I will see all my friends from high school that I haven’t seen in 33 years. I have had a few pangs of trepidation, wondering what to heck I am doing that for, but then I realize it is a great story collecting opportunity. And that is what life is, a collection of stories.

You see, high school isn’t for everyone and it certainly wasn’t a great time for me. Having been the victim of an early sexual assault as a pre-teen, I turned to drugs and alcohol at a very young age because I didn’t know how to handle the emotions of what had happened to me. My parents went through a difficult divorce, my dad remarried, and I just spiraled out of control. So my memories of high school and my friends memories of me aren’t the greatest. I wasn’t a very nice person. But here is the thing…I am not that girl anymore.

So I get to go back and meet these people again. I am a new person and so are they. We get to laugh and enjoy each other’s company. I will get to hear their stories of how their lives have evolved; stories of love and loss, joy and heartbreak. I want to listen and understand who they are as people. I want to know what touches their soul. It is an opportunity to make new friends all over again. So even with my moments of trepidation, I find that I am really looking forward to the opportunity. I want to see them with new eyes and an open heart and hopefully, they will be able to look at me the same way.

Then, after spending some time with my extraordinary brothers and their families, I am heading back to Seattle to see my beautiful daughter and her amazing partner Ethan and their new puppy. I am going to visit with my friends and do some skiing and spend Christmas at Tony and Ken’s beautiful home. I get to ride my bike and talk math education with Keri. I have to say, I am looking forward to being back in Seattle.

Everything is different. It is like my life is brand new. Every day is an adventure.

The best kind of guide…

Posted on November 23, 2013 by rangotti

A few years ago, the day after I took my first and only powder skiing lesson and while I was still only a comfortable blue run skier, my friend Matt and I went up to Stevens Pass where, on the first run of the day after a foot of new snow, Matt suggests we go up Seventh Heaven, an ungroomed, black diamond run. Matt, with his usual encouragement says “Robin, you can totally do this, I will stay right beside you the whole time”. We get off the chair at the top, Matt straps his boots into his snowboard and he is gone…I got down that mountain by myself solely for the purpose of wringing his neck when I finally got to the bottom. His response to me, “but you did it, and now you know you can do it again”. I swear I don’t know why I listen to that kid sometimes.

When Matt suggested I come to Nepal, his words were “come to Nepal, I will be your guide. You just get here, I will take care of the rest”. Yeah, I still haven’t learned yet. When I got to Nepal, as typical of the way he “guides” me, he starts off by getting us a bus ride to Pokhara where he asks me, “did you get a hotel room”? Hmmm…. is this part of the “you’ll take care of everything plan?”. Typically, it was like that with everything that happened in the two weeks I was there. The kid had no plan at all… or did he? I joked with him one day and asked exactly what “kind of guide he was” since he pretty left me to figure everything out on my own and to handle all the crises that came up. His answer: “I am the best kind of guide”. I am still trying to figure out whether the boy is a brilliant or just an accidental genius. Either way, once again, it worked.

But it takes coming home to truly realize how far you’ve come. The greatest gift of travel isn’t the adventure, new countries, languages, foods, customs, etc… or all the things that traveling brings. Those are all great but are only part of the real gift of travel. The real gift is returning home, forever changed. I am very proud of where I am at this moment.

So where am I? Physically, I recently returned to my son’s home in North Carolina to spend Thanksgiving (American) with my son and my lovely daughter-in-law and the two most amazing grandchildren ever, Brooklyn and Charlotte.

I have been here less than 48 hours and I am already amazed at how I feel. In the past, when I visited my son, who lives in my former marital home, I was always bombarded with memories and thoughts of how life “should have worked out for me”. I had always expected to be living in this house, happily married to the man I loved, celebrating holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas with our children and grandchildren coming to visit us. I would ride past the university I went to and used to teach for and just be overwhelmed with missing the friends I had, the job I was great at, the life I loved, all of it. I would long for my past life back. I hadn’t realized how much that longing was holding me back until now.

The night I cried to Matt in Nepal, something changed in me. Maybe it was the yoga and meditation or maybe it was the stark conditions of the country and pushing myself through physical difficulty and preserving. Maybe it was the spiritual nature of hiking up to the World Peace Pagoda or up to the top of Sarankot or maybe it was the awe-inspiring site of looking out at the Himalayas which is a sight I will never forget as long as I live. Maybe it happened while I as paragliding with vultures or when I fell off the side of the cliff and was hanging by the vegetation and lost my shoes and had to walk back to my hotel barefoot. Maybe it happened through just overcoming obstacles and crises and realizing that I could face any challenge on my own. Regardless, sometime during that time, something changed.

I knew I felt different when I left Nepal and went to Barcelona, I just didn’t realize how different I was until I came back into the familiar environment in which I spent almost half my life. The familiarity of that world was in stark contrast to the person I have become. Now, I sit in this house and it glows with the energy and vitality of my grandchildren and the love my son and his wife share. I got to meet my ex-husband’s lovely and charming girlfriend and watch them interact with my two beautiful granddaughters who love them dearly. I couldn’t help but feel joy in my heart for all of it, for such a loving and happy family. It is something I never could have imagined over the darkness of the past 6 years.

I look around this place where I used to live. I have appreciated the beautiful changing seasons, the friendliness of the people, the beauty of the campus and know that I hold no attachment to it other than in appreciation of the memories of all the wonderful times I spent here. It was a wonderful place to raise two beautiful, well-adjusted children, and where I had the opportunity for an amazing career teaching high school and the start of my college teaching career. It is a place where I had spectacular friends and experiences, and where I loved and laughed and lived over half of my life.

Life is sweet, all of it, the good and the bad. Because of everything that happened, my beautiful daughter got to finish college, start a great career, and meet her amazing partner Ethan. Everything that happened gave me an opportunity to fall in love with the PNW and all the remarkable treasures that area of the world holds. It gave me the chance to reach down into the most creative part of myself and take risks in my career. It has given me a wealth of new experiences and friends that I never would have otherwise met.

I am more centered, happy, confident, peaceful, and accepting than I have ever been in my whole life. Traveling and returning home has made me that much more aware of how great a gift my life has been.

Namaste

Asking the wrong question…

Posted on November 18, 2013 by rangotti

It kind of sucks when I have been on sabbatical now for five months and just realized I have been searching for answers to the wrong questions.

I keep asking myself who do I want to be? What I have realized is that identity isn’t about my choices, my choices are going to be sometimes good and sometimes not so good, but they don’t define who I am. Identity is about my essence as a human being. That essence isn’t going to change. I am not going to suddenly stop caring about people or stop being the positive, loving, warm, compassionate, reflective, thoughtful person that I am. That is the essence of who I am and I wouldn’t change that for anything.

The other question I have been asking myself is what would make me happy. Today while I have been in Barcelona, I have enjoyed visiting two places which Antoni Gaudi was the architect. My plan was to visit Casa Batllo, Sagrada Familia, and then walk over to Parc Guell but I didn’t make it. The rain, my earache, and my exhaustion did me in before the last 2+ mile walk to Parc Guell.

What I realized at Casa Batllo was that Gaudi was a genius as an architect and also was one of the most creative risk-takers the planet has ever seen. I was captivated by the brilliance and non-traditional style of his work. I tried to picture what it must have been like to live in Casa Batllo. Nothing in our square line architecture can prepare us for how different it must have been to have a house that was patterned after sea creatures. I couldn’t decide if it felt more like a hobbit house or like something from The Little Mermaid. On one hand, it must have seemed strange and gotten old. But on the other, I can see where the family might have grown to love it. Either way, it was magnificent and certainly one of the most creative works I have ever seen. I am not sure I could have given it up to turn it into the museum it is now.

After leaving there in the persistent downpour Barcelona has experienced for the last three days, I headed to the Basilica Sagrada Familia. I stopped for lunch along the way to dry off and have some yummy jamon and queso and beer. I was glad I had the sustenance in me in order to walk the last couple of miles in the rain.

Nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing, could have prepared me for what I was about to see when I got to the church (photos below). I figured I had seen enough Spanish churches that I would be impressed but not shocked from every sense in my body. The outside was shrouded in construction apparatus so I wasn’t impressed yet. Then I walked into the finished interior. I grew up Catholic, but left the church a long time ago. But I have to admit, in that instant, I was once again proud to be Catholic. And for the first time in what seems like forever, I found myself praying.

I could post a few of the hundreds of pictures I took, but none are going to do justice to the size and scope and the overwhelming sensory experience that is the Sagrada Familia. It effected all of my senses and was an completely immersive, emotional experience like nothing I have ever felt before. It was Gaudi’s crowning achievement. He spent 14 years of his life on the project until he was tragically hit by a tram in 1926. The project is still only 60% completed. The interior was finished and dedicated by Pope Benedict XVI in 2010. The exterior is still under construction.

What struck me as I stood there is that Gaudi believed in what he was doing enough to devote his life to the project. He paid attention to the detail in every curve, hyperbola, and trigonometric function. His heart is in the enormous columns that were inspired by trees, in the spiral staircases, statues, arcs and apexes, Gaudi’s commitment, desire, spirituality, and sheer creativity and inspiration comes to life in that structure. I was struck by the question of what does it take to have that level of commitment to something? I was literally standing there with tears running down my face and all that is going through my head.

That is when I realized I have been asking myself the wrong question. The question isn’t what will make me happy… the question I should be asking is what is important enough to sacrifice for? What is important enough to suffer for? It is kind of like losing weight. If it is important enough to devote hours to the gym and focus on diet, you will do it. Or getting a degree, if it is important enough to you, you will do whatever it takes to achieve that goal. Whatever you will give your time and effort to, sacrifice and suffer for is where your heart is. So the question is, what are you willing to suffer for?

In my life, I have always had something I had to work really hard and put in effort for. I got a degree so I could take care of my family, National Board certification so I could teach my students well and take care of my family, a PhD so I could have a better career and teach my students better and take care of my family, paying off debt so I could take care of my family…I am seeing a pattern here. All of those things were worth working for, my family was worth working for. But my kids are grown, the husband is gone, the only person that needs me is me, and that feels different. When I had them, when I had a cause, I worked so hard. I haven’t had a cause in over a year and I have been adrift trying to find purpose for my life. But I have been asking the wrong question to find my answers. Instead of asking what will make me happy, I need to ask what will I be willing to put in the effort for? What am I willing to work that hard for, to sacrifice for? Because ultimately, where we are willing to put in the effort, that is where our heart is.

I leave Barcelona and have one more stop in Zürich before I get back to the U.S. for awhile to regroup with my family and do a little skiing with my friends. I have a lot to think about after this trip. I have a lot of unanswered questions still.

Caveat: I have about 500 photos from today. My camera battery is dead and I just grabbed a few. They aren’t the best and this was just my point and shoot not my good camera.

From a friend…

Posted on November 15, 2013 by rangotti

Greetings from Wichita Falls, TX!

The first time I met Robin was in a bar in Paso Robles, CA. Although I had never met her (we began our friendship online), I felt I knew her well. In the heat of my impending divorce, she became one of my closest pen pals, offering emotional support and advice to get through the turmoil that had replaced what I thought was a very good life. Little did I know that meeting her would change how I live and redefine my personality.

It all started with a sexy black dress. That black dress revealed an artistic truth (her tattoo) I was unaware of. I don’t know what I expected, but the person I met was both exactly who I thought she was and someone completely different than anticipated. With a warm hug, the Internet personality was replaced by a living, breathing individual possessing warmth, depth, and vulnerability. I do not believe she realized this at the time, but she instantly became one of my most cherished friends. We mingled throughout the bar that night, meeting people from various parts who came together for the joy of cycling. What struck me the most was how engaged Robin was in every conversation. She listened to everyone, invested 100% in the subject matter at hand. Robin’s sincerity was new to me. I began to realize that most of the people I knew – colleagues, friends, etc. – just did not possess the emotional investment in others that Robin invests. In a word, I immediately trusted her.

After some great riding, we gathered as a group to celebrate the day’s events. I remember feeling isolated. I am a large guy, a former football player, not exactly the typical cyclist. I felt out of place. Sitting on the steps of the porch, drinking a beer, Robin came over, sat down beside me, and we quickly moved into a deep conversation, relaying our fears, our hurt, and how we planned on moving on. I don’t remember exactly how it happened, but she mentioned her sabbatical, a yearlong event that was to be an awakening, an exploration of the world. As I often do, I offered to help her move out of her apartment, even though I lived 1200 miles away. I really didn’t think she would take me up on the offer. But she did. A few weeks later, I was in Seattle (my favorite city), immersed in Robin’s life…. and her stuff. Between eating great food, seeing her favorites spots, and meeting her wonderful friends and family, we went through all of her possessions, slowly purging all of the things that were a part of a former life. In the end, everything that she owned was in a small corner of a one-bedroom apartment. Her purge was truly impressive.

The purging process was at times very emotional, and other times, funny as hell. (Robin: remember the jean shorts argument?) Most of all, it was courageous. Robin’s courage to change EVERYTHING in her life, to move on from the shackles of a former existence, impressed upon me how much metaphorical baggage we carry. This is not to say there was no fear; she commented many times how she didn’t believe she could do it. Yet, she never wavered from her commitment to see it through. Robin’s belief in herself and her ability to rise above fear should never be underestimated. She once said to me that it isn’t about the absence of fear, but the acceptance of fear, fear that is a natural part of who we are.

As I have moved into a new job, new city, new relationship, a new design for how I plan to live my life, I cannot thank Robin enough for her influence on me and on the lives of others. In reality, she helped save me from myself. I volunteered to help write a blog entry before I actually thought it through. I didn’t think she would hop on board with it so quickly. And while I feel my life is rather mundane in comparison to Robin’s experiences, I thought this would be a great opportunity to explain to her how much her friendship means to me, and that, while absent physically, those who read this blog travel with her in spirit. Robin has lived more in the past year than most do in a lifetime, sharing her experiences and vulnerability without succumbing to the fear, and for that, Robin, I thank you. I am humbled and can only hope I live up to the standard which you have set.

Matt (the other one)

Life Divided by Zero

The Journey of Becoming Undefined

Category Archives: friendship