Lesson Five: Be who you want to be

Posted on August 30, 2014 by rangotti

One of the best things about writing this blog has been all the responses I have received from people around the world. Some said “thank you for sharing so openly, it has helped me realize I am not alone”. Some have told me their stories. Others have asked for advice, questions such as “I am over my head in debt, how do I pay it off” to “I am not happy in my life but I don’t know how to change it, can you help”. I am not qualified to give anyone advice. I can only tell you how I dealt with similar problems.

One of my greatest take-aways from sabbatical is that I don’t just have to be who I think I am. I can be who I want to be. All my life, I have wanted to be this adventure girl. I wanted to be joyfully spontaneous and just willing to try things on a whim. I wanted to be athletic and participate in adventure sports such as mountain biking, kayaking, skiing off-piste, paragliding, climbing… you get the idea. I also wanted to be the sophisticated urban dweller and world traveler. I put those dreams aside when I had children and raised my family. I was responsible, a great high school teacher, a good university professor, a decent mother and wife. I took care of everyone. When I got divorced an moved to Seattle, I was a frumpy, middle class, 44 year old housewife from a small town in North Carolina, and I thought those kind of adventures were behind me. If you have read this blog, you realize that moving to Seattle was when I met Matt Tony, Ken, Rachel, Shaun, Deloa, Melinda, Rachelle, Keri and so many more great friends.. the list goes on and on here as well as all my friends from the Lounge and my own children, Patrick and Jessica who have cheered me and encouraged me every step of the way.

My friends opened my world and my mind to all the things that were possible, regardless of my age, weight, marital status, debt, … none of that matters. Those were all excuses to keep me paralyzed to whatever dysfunctional fear I happened to be harboring at the time. The one single thing I needed to learn was that all I had to do was try. I didn’t have to be perfect or even successful the first time, or the 27th time, I just had to keep trying. It didn’t matter if I was laughed at, judged, or taunted. I have learned that those kinds of limiting comments from other people aren’t about me, they are about the shallowness and fears of the person who is uttering them. I don’t take those kind of comments personally anymore. I am a different person. I am the person I have always wanted to be.

I set out on a journey to carve out a new identity. I thought that meant discovering who I am. It didn’t. I realized that it meant creating who I am. It is funny, as I have been reflecting on sabbatical and all the years since I moved to Seattle, my train of thought started with “I didn’t”, and “I am not” until about a month ago when trying to write this blog post and I asked myself, “so what HAVE you done?”. It was a perspective altering question.

I have rolled a kayak, climbed mountains, and jumped off those mountains in both a harness and with a wing on my back. I have skied through powder, down fall lines, under chairlifts and on glaciers. I have ridden bikes on several continents, in varied conditions with incredible people. I have ordered great wine and decadent food in restaurants all over the world. I have met new people everywhere I have gone and listened to their stories, learned about their lives, and shared the fires of the passions that light up their souls. I gave away all the trappings of my former life, my furniture, clothing, and emotional baggage. I have lived without a home or safety net to return to. I have fed endangered vultures from my hand both on the ground and while gliding in the air looking out over the Himalayas. I have traveled alone, with no plan and no itinerary, going where I wanted, seeing what interested me, meeting new people. I have faced loneliness, fear, isolation, sickness, different cultures, ostracization, and just about every human condition you can imagine.

When I read that list, what is clear to me is that I am not the person that I was anymore. I am strong, courageous, adventurous, athletic, urban, classy, loving, compassionate, giving, open… in other words, I am the person I have always wanted to be. How did I, a non-athletic, frumpy, boring, small-town, middle-class housewife do it? How did I learn to roll a boat, ski off-piste, order great wine, solo travel, talk to strangers, and give up all my possessions? The answer is simple, I tried. I set out on a course that was hard and just kept going. Overcoming obstacles, wanting to quit (many, many times), I learned and grew. I refused to stay in the dysfunction I was in and did the work necessary to have the life I wanted. Even though that sounds simple, it was the hardest, yet most rewarding thing I have ever done. I have no regrets.

Before I left on sabbatical, I had a chance to change course and stay in Seattle to be able to get the perfect house. I wanted that house so badly, I almost didn’t go on my journey because of it. The house was just an excuse to hide my fear however. Instead, I listened to my advisors and went on sabbatical anyway knowing that there would be another perfect house when I returned. I have thought of that house many times while I lived my homeless, nomadic life. In the last couple of weeks I started house hunting again. Guess what? THE house, the same one, was available and now it is mine. So for all my worry, I took the chance anyway and walked away from the safe choice. Now I have a house again or at least I will on Sept 15 and not just any house but the house I dreamed of. Until September 15, I am hanging out with my beautiful granddaughters waiting for their brother to come into the world any day now. So at the end of this incredible year, not only am I a new person but I will have a new home, a new job, and a new grandson.

It makes me happy to know that I am setting a great example for my grandchildren that life isn’t about limits, it is about challenging what limits us. Our biggest limitation is believing that we can’t change who we think we are.

Lesson Three: Take Bigger Steps

Posted on July 12, 2014 by rangotti

In Madrid, struggling to figure out who I was and what to hell I was doing in Madrid, I texted Matt and said I was taking two steps forward and three backwards. Matt’s answer, “take bigger steps”. At the time it made me laugh and I thought he was just being funny. I had no idea how profound those words really were until much later.

My plan after leaving Madrid was to travel around Spain and I was just stuck as to where to go and what to see. I hadn’t left the US as a tourist but as a traveler and there is a huge difference. People kept giving me advice as tourists. (go here, see that, do this) but traveling with no definitive itinerary and no plan isn’t the same thing as being a tourist. So I was floundering. Matt’s next words to me were “come to Nepal” which is where he and his lovely girlfriend Amanda happened to be at the time. Lonely and ready to see someone familiar, I threw my stuff together, left Madrid and flew to Katmandu. What I didn’t realize at the time was, I just took a much bigger step. It was a step which, eventually, would propel me forward out of floundering in a major way. My time in Nepal was magic. It was a catalyst for healing my soul, developing my identity, fueling my passion for life, and getting in touch with my spirituality in a profound way.

I didn’t realize how much Nepal had changed me until I got back to Seattle months later. Coming down from the mountaintop experience where I had clarity about my life and all I was seeking, I had to then return to my actual life with its challenges and opportunities. Trying to integrate the new growth with the old life was probably the most difficult period of all of my sabbatical. From January to April, I struggled more than I can ever remember. I would use the word depression but I wasn’t sad, just stymied. I couldn’t figure out where the girl I had left on top of Sarangkot, the girl who did yoga and mediated every day and then climbed mountains for fun, I couldn’t seem to find that girl again. And that is the girl I wanted to be. Instead, with no structure to my days, I was on the couch in my pajamas at 7:30 pm after never even getting dressed all day. I was again moving two steps forward and three back.

It was mid April and I realized I had to take bigger steps. Movement is life and I had to start moving, physically, mentally and emotionally. The next day, I was up at 4 am for meditation, to greet the day, and was at the gym at 5 am. I have started my day the same way on the majority of mornings since. And guess what? That girl that I left on top of Sarangkot? She’s back.

When you are stuck and you feel like you are doing the right things to be on the path you want to walk but you don’t seem to be moving anywhere, take bigger steps. It is funny how that is actually true in so many things. Physically, I had plateaued in my fitness. I added Tabata training to my regular working and that propelled my fitness level upward. Intellectually, I needed a challenge so I changed jobs and jumped into a visualization project that is totally stumping me and, even though it is frustrating, I can’t put it down. It is a huge intellectual challenge for me and I am loving it. Emotionally, pushing myself to go back to therapy after I swore I would never trust another mental health care professional again, was a giant step forward. All these things have helped me get to a place where I am stronger in all those areas than I have ever been in my whole life. It is a great place to be. I feel integrated and whole, that my internal view of who I am meets the external life that I display. It is a pretty awesome place to be.

You don’t have to jump off mountains or get up at 5 am. But you do have to keep moving, physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. Whatever your challenge is in your life, wherever you feel stuck and can’t figure out what to do, take bigger steps. Do something that will defibrillate that area. Challenge yourself physically, emotionally, intellectually, and spiritually. Movement is life. Live it.

Lesson One: The ride doesn’t start until you are ready for it to be over

Posted on June 27, 2014 by rangotti

As I start on the transition back from sabbatical, I want to reflect a little on the lessons I have learned through this year and then I will finish this blog in September

The kick-off event for sabbatical last year was a 24 hour bike ride to raise money for cancer research and patient support. This morning, one year and one lifetime later, I find myself again in Indianapolis riding with my friends from Team Collin. I am a different person. Sabbatical has change me profoundly.

I went for a bike ride the other day. I had planned to ride about 40 miles, but it was a beautiful sunny day so I struck out down an unfamiliar route and ended up going about 50 miles and then decided I was tired and would take the bus the rest of the way home. So I was sitting on the bus bench, eating the last snack that I had brought with me when I realized I didn’t have my wallet so I had no money or my bus pass. I was 25 miles from home. I probably could have talked the bus driver into letting me get on the bus but instead, I put my helmet back on and got back on the bike because one of the first lessons I learned on sabbatical is that the real ride doesn’t start until that moment when I am ready for it to be over.

I first learned this lesson emotionally when I gave up all my possessions last year and left Seattle. I was almost paralyzed by fear and wishing I had never decided to go on this crazy adventure. Facing the fear of traveling alone, meeting people who I didn’t know in countries where I didn’t speak the language, travelling with no plans and no reservations, no safety net when something happened, having to make decisions on the fly not knowing if the outcome would be positive or not, I just wanted the ride to end. I wanted to stay home in the safety of the apartment I had lived for the last 3 years. The reality was, I was in a holding pattern, stagnating personally and professionally and needed to make a huge change. That change truly began when I let myself face the challenges, pushed myself physically, intellectually and emotionally further than I ever thought I could go in my life. In the words of the great TerryB, “It is easier to stay in the dysfunction you are in than it is to do the work needed to have the life you want.” Changes won’t come by just doing the same thing you have been doing over and over and expecting a different result. They happen when you move into the discomfort.

Physically, intellectually, and emotionally, growth and learning happen when people are pushed out of their comfort zone. There is new research that says that physically, if you do the same exercise at the same intensity without varying it that at some point, your body stops responding. You won’t lose ground on your fitness but you won’t gain it either. As I teacher, I have always known from my own learning and by watching my students struggle that intellectual learning is hard work. Think back to your biggest life lessons, did you learn them because you did something perfectly or because you had to struggle through difficulty? Our greatest challenges give us our biggest lessons. Learning isn’t for the faint of heart. And emotional growth may be the hardest of all. We only grow emotionally when we are pushed beyond the limits of what we thought we could endure.

Seven years ago, I was pushed out of my emotional comfort zone when the man I married and loved with all my heart walked out on me without warning . I was pushed out of my comfort zone again when my father and sister died. And then my when my therapist, who was helping me through all of that, entered into an inappropriate relationship with me. Those situations pushed me to the brink of emotional collapse. However, those events also were the catalysts of the most profound transformation of my life. I wouldn’t wish for them to happen again, but I will not regret where they have brought me.

They call events like that life-altering. The reason for that name is because they actually alter your life (yeah I know that conclusion wasn’t rocket science). The event where you do the same thing every day for 25 years or respond the same way every time you have a conflict isn’t “life-altering”. There are so many people who I listen to who tell me they want to make a change in their lives, they aren’t happy with their circumstances….they aren’t happy in their marriage, with their job, the direction their life is going, etc. The way to change that is simple and yet, at the same time, extraordinarily difficult. If you want to make a change in your life, the only way to do it is to create your life-altering moment. There is no other way. It is at that point of change, that point of discomfort that you are ready for whatever is bothering you in your life to be over, that moment when you are ready for the ride to be over…. that is the moment where the real ride and the hard work begins.

My sabbatical lesson and take-away is that I have learned to appreciate that emotional discomfort that comes in difficult and challenging situations because I know it precipitates learning and growth. That doesn’t mean I like it, but I understand what is about to happen, change is going to occur, life is being divided by zero. I might whine about it still, but the whining is just noise, it isn’t life-stalling paralysis. All of life is embraced, every moment is cherished. The places where I am struggling the most are where the real work needs to happen.

A great analogy to this: You don’t keep repaving a smoothly paved road, you fix the road with the potholes on it. It is the same with your life, you fix the parts that are broken, you don’t just stay on the same smooth path. Life gets interesting on those side roads. And if you never take them, sooner or later life will throw up a detour and you will have no choice but to be forced down the side road. You need to fix the pot holes on those side roads before they become big enough to swallow your vehicle and keep your life stuck in one place.

So this weekend, I get to hang out with my friends, ride some bikes, raise a little money to kick cancer’s ass. I am a different woman than I was when I was here a year ago. On the road of my life and the development of a new identity, I have fewer pot holes, more miles of paved smooth road, I am stronger physically, mentally, and emotionally than I have been in a very long time.

No regrets, just lessons learned…

Posted on June 21, 2014 by rangotti

Sabbatical is almost over. I packed up my office yesterday, part of the final transition to a new office and a new job. It was bittersweet as it brought back all the memories of the hope I had when I took my current job 7 years ago. I decided it was time to start reflecting on this year and the lessons I have learned. I have to say, it has been a great year and I am a different person then when I started. The year was the most challenging yet rewarding time I have ever experienced. I truly have no regrets when I look at where I am right now.

I have had a rough few years transitioning to being single, having an empty nest, paying off a huge debt, moving across the country, learning the culture of a new job and an urban environment, trying to learn how to live for the first time from a place of abundance and making my own choices for my life when I no longer have to care for children/husband/family. For all the times we all say we wish we had no responsibilities, it really isn’t as easy as it sounds. But that is what I had done, freed myself from obligations, and then was adrift trying to figure out how to live my life after a lifetime of taking care of other people. I struggled to learn how to take care of myself.

When I started on sabbatical, I felt like I was stuck in an endless loop of latent emotion in reaction to situations that I saw as personal and professional failures. No matter how hard I tried to move on within the framework of everyday life, reminders of those perceived failures kept cropping up seemingly everywhere I turned. Whether in a photograph, opening a chest and finding my wedding dress, common friends, going through old files, bumping into former students… it just seemed like I was being haunted by a life that was over, a life that had been divided by zero and was undefined.

Given all that, the questions of sabbatical became, how does one get over several traumas happening in a very short time period that shake the entire foundation of your life? How does one start over again from a life undefined? How do you figure out who you want to be and what kind of life you want to live? My friend Matt once said, “Robin, you have to rewrite your hard drive“, so sabbatical became a chance to just wipe it all clean, a whole system reboot. It is a chance that many people long for in their lives but few are privileged to have: a second life.

I got rid of my house, all my stuff that had any emotional attachment to my former life, one by one let go of dependencies I had for emotional support, and just learned to stand on my own. I have no regrets, but lots of lessons learned. Over the next few weeks, I hope to be able to share those lessons and a glimpse of the strong, confident, whole person I have become.

For today, on this beautiful day that is the beginning of summer, I have mountains to climb and bikes to ride so I will leave you with the words and the music that has become the theme song of my year.

Wake Me Up (Avicii)

Feeling my way through the darkness
Guided by a beating heart
I can’t tell where the journey will end
But I know where to start

They tell me I’m too young to understand
They say I’m caught up in a dream
Well life will pass me by if I don’t open up my eyes
Well that’s fine by me

So wake me up when it’s all over
When I’m wiser and I’m older
All this time I was finding myself
And I didn’t know I was lost

I tried carrying the weight of the world
But I only have two hands
Hope I get the chance to travel the world
But I don’t have any plans

Wish that I could stay forever this young
Not afraid to close my eyes
Life’s a game made for everyone
And love is the prize

Forgiveness

Posted on May 24, 2014 by rangotti

I have come to realize, in order to be free of the sorrow of the past, I have to truly forgive with all my heart. So I enrolled in a 30 day course with Desmond Tutu, a forgiveness challenge of which I am almost at the end. In the course of doing the daily activities, I have realized how far I have already come down the road of forgiveness both for my ex-husband and the former therapist, the protagonists of two devastating events that have defined 7 of the last 8 years of my life. Most of the activities in the challenge I completed easily which showed me how far I have already come. But there came a point where I hit a wall, one made of crumbling emotional bricks. I realized the best part of this challenge was illuminating for me where I was stuck.

One day, a week or so ago, the activity was a meditation where I was to envision myself in one of my favorite places, a place where I feel safe and which calls to my spirit. I was also tasked with envisioning myself with someone I trusted without reservation. So I envisioned myself sitting at the top of one of the mountains in the Northern Cascades with my friend Matt. The goal of the activity was to tell him my sorrow, to speak the words and tell him the hurt that I had endured and to let it all out. Since I have no secrets from Matt, he has heard the words from me many times, more than he has cared to hear them. He knows all my sorrow, even my darkest secrets that I share with no one else. So the telling of my story during my meditation and envisioning Matt listening was not difficult at all. But what came next was very difficult.

The second part of the meditation was to envision a box. Since I love boxes this was easy for me. If I was ever going to collect anything it would be boxes. I envisioned one of the shaker boxes that my dad made me before he died. Then the meditation called for me to take that story and to put it in this box and to name it The Box of Sorrows. After closing it up, the story sealed, I had to envision handing it to my trusted friend. That was the part where I was just paralyzed for a few moments. I was paralyzed to hand over what I have held onto for so long. But in order to move on, I have to forgive and in order to forgive, I have to first let go.

Matt getting ready to fly

So in my mind, I looked into the eyes that I have looked at so many times in the past, eyes of a man I trust with my life, and I handed him the box in my mind. I did what he has always taught me to do when I am scared, I look into his eyes, trust, tell myself I can totally do this, and take the risk. So I held out the box and I just let go. He took the box from me, nodded, got his wing and harness set up and then he jumped and went paragliding down the mountain with my Box of Sorrows… my history and my fears, in his possession. Amazingly, as a mediation, it was like I was actually there. I felt it, deep in my soul, the moment of letting go.

So how did it feel? It was like the ultimate freedom. It was like everything else I have done the past year, letting go of the possessions, the apartment, traveling, changing jobs, all of it was preparing me for that moment. As tightly as I was hanging on, letting go lifted this huge burden I was carrying.

Part of me felt so strongly about it that I had a pang of fear that I had burdened my friend with my box of sorrows. But what I realized is that I already had been burdening him every time I talked about it without being able to let go and move on. Essentially, he had to help me drag that burden around in our friendship all of these years. So even though he had to carry that box down the mountain, he did it without struggle because he finally gets to be free of it also. And besides, he is also the strongest person I know. If anyone can carry that burden for me down the mountain, it is Matt. Then I got to follow, light of heart, centered in my mind and my spirit. It was very powerful.

And yes, I know I will get criticism for how “woo woo” this is. I don’t care. Every culture and religion in the world knows the value of symbolism and visualization so I won’t make any apologies for anything that makes me feel and great as I feel right now.

No regrets…just lessons learned

Posted on February 24, 2014 by rangotti

I was watching a TV show yesterday. For those who don’t know me personally, I haven’t had a TV in a couple of years so watching TV feels like a whole new activity for me. Anyway, it was a talk show and during the show, they had a twitter feed in the background. The host was talking about how every experience in our lives can teach us a lesson, so rather than look on those experiences as negative, look on them as lessons. A viewer tweeted a quote that went something like “instead of being a victim, be a student”. I really like that thought.

I have several friends who have gone through amazingly difficult struggles in their lives. Their lives were divided by zero many times. Abusive childhoods filled with alcoholic parents, marriages with abusive spouses, dealing with infidelity from someone who made sacred vows to honor and cherish, amputated limbs, quadriplegia from a car accident, death of a child, recovering alcoholics/addicts, cancer, Lou Gehrig’s disease, and so many more. Most of the people I admire the most have overcome tremendous obstacles, it is what refined their character. They used those struggles as opportunities to grow, they refused to become victims. They became students of life instead. I would say that most of them have the equivalent of a PhD in life lessons.

Then there are the people in life that are mired in what has happened to them, refusing to let it go. Now, I am not saying that all of us don’t go through that, heaven knows I have had my walk through the dark side of life where I just couldn’t seem to claw my way out of the pit of despair. It might take awhile, but the trick is to not stay there. And it doesn’t just happen that you come out of it magically on your own, you have to fight for it.

So how is it that some people can make hard choices, do the right thing, feel compassion and forgiveness for those who have wronged them, own up to their mistakes, problem-solve, and move forward while others just wallow, refusing to take responsibility for anything they have done and making the same mistakes over and over again?

I don’t have the answers to those questions only my own ideas. I believe it has something to do with what the person tweeted… people who can move on and build a better life out of the emotional ruins of trauma are people who are unwilling to stay the victim, instead can morph themselves into learners. They refuse to take life as it is, just because people believe they should stay down. They refuse to stick to the stereotypes that people force upon them. They are willing to muck around in the dark times of their lives as a chance to learn. Why would they do that? Because they don’t want to make the same mistakes, they want to do it better the next time. I once had someone say to me on an internet forum that “you’d think some of us would learn as we get older, but that isn’t the case”. Guess what? Age by itself isn’t a teacher. Age is only a teacher if you learn the lessons as you go along and do the hard work needed to overcome challenges.

I believe the people who can grow from adversity are people who are willing to reflect on their lives and who have the courage to say when they made a mistake and are willing to make amends. They aren’t afraid to put themselves out there, to be vulnerable, to risk, to be authentic, and to care.

I was just sitting here at the student union of the amazing university I get to teach at, reflecting on learning as I get ready to be immersed in an incredible professional development program, and I find I am in awe of where I am in my life. I started to say I was the luckiest human being on the planet, but it isn’t luck. I have learned, that is why I am here.

Soon I will begin my traveling adventures again. All the experiences I have had, the choices I have made, the people I have met and the obstacles I have overcome have brought me to this place. I have no regrets… just lessons learned.

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 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.

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.