on last night's royal pains episode, divya gave an answer to why her father won't talk to her that i could just as easily use explaining why my sibs shie away from me >> "i could give you plenty of reasons ~ and i don't understand any of them." spot on.
i admire how the writers show the character - estranged & financially cut off from parents she loves & who have always supported her - as sad but coping. the option - to do what they wanted at the cost of her self - would have been more painful. a woman who sought a balance within her family & is willing to live with the consequences, however painful, rather than compromise her true self. a deftly drawn character who is well written. bravo!
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
"You and your PLATITUDES!!"
it was last october over a year ago that a once incredibly close friend flung those words at me; the phrase began with a sneer & ended with her spitting out "pla~ti~tudes."
my response took even me by surprise. instead of being upset or angry or repentant of my ways, the unexpected comment lifted a veil that long covered crucial parts of my life. in a flash, it was clear that leslie wasn't the only one irked beyond endurance by my platitudes. i'll see you a leslie & raise you a peter, mim, mike & kerry.
for many years, i've said that my sibs experience me like nails on a chalk board. i make their skin crawl. i know from kerry that my core nature disturbs her intensely - so she wrote in 1973, in a letter to mom, and i've experienced nothing over the years that would lead me to think her opinion's changed. i irritate peter so intensely, his family didn't invite me to my niece's rehearsal dinner; as my nephew put it, if i were there, his dad would have been stressed.
it was clear that something about me rubbed each of the in the absolutely worst way imaginable, but i was left clueless as to what it was.
"you & your platitudes!" eureka, i had found it! my robustly pollyanna-ish ways got under their skin every bit as much as it did leslie's. in leslie's tone (we were on the phone), even more than her words, i heard years of irritation erupting.
yes, i do tend to see a lesson in all that happens, which does liberate me in a large degree from recriminations & fault finding. yes, that could be experienced as pollyanna-ish. but what's so bad about being a pollyanna? as i recall, she lead a pretty happy life, helped others brush off paths to their own happy lives, left where she lived & who she was with in a happier place than they were before.
seems a pretty good way to be, if you ask me. so i'll forever spout those so-called "platitudes" about seeking the lesson & understanding that each of us brings a unique perspective to our common experience as i keep on keeping on!
thank you, leslie, for helping me understand the previously incomprehensible!
my response took even me by surprise. instead of being upset or angry or repentant of my ways, the unexpected comment lifted a veil that long covered crucial parts of my life. in a flash, it was clear that leslie wasn't the only one irked beyond endurance by my platitudes. i'll see you a leslie & raise you a peter, mim, mike & kerry.
for many years, i've said that my sibs experience me like nails on a chalk board. i make their skin crawl. i know from kerry that my core nature disturbs her intensely - so she wrote in 1973, in a letter to mom, and i've experienced nothing over the years that would lead me to think her opinion's changed. i irritate peter so intensely, his family didn't invite me to my niece's rehearsal dinner; as my nephew put it, if i were there, his dad would have been stressed.
it was clear that something about me rubbed each of the in the absolutely worst way imaginable, but i was left clueless as to what it was.
"you & your platitudes!" eureka, i had found it! my robustly pollyanna-ish ways got under their skin every bit as much as it did leslie's. in leslie's tone (we were on the phone), even more than her words, i heard years of irritation erupting.
yes, i do tend to see a lesson in all that happens, which does liberate me in a large degree from recriminations & fault finding. yes, that could be experienced as pollyanna-ish. but what's so bad about being a pollyanna? as i recall, she lead a pretty happy life, helped others brush off paths to their own happy lives, left where she lived & who she was with in a happier place than they were before.
seems a pretty good way to be, if you ask me. so i'll forever spout those so-called "platitudes" about seeking the lesson & understanding that each of us brings a unique perspective to our common experience as i keep on keeping on!
thank you, leslie, for helping me understand the previously incomprehensible!
sanctuary
i love the 4th of july.
in my family, it was the most flat-out happy, least angst-ridden holiday. fun, food & family - a mega winning combination!
so many great memories around bryn athyn july 4th celebrations. my very first memory is from when i was probably around seven years old.
background: to this day, the parade around what is now benade hall circle is followed by all of us gathering around the flag pole to sing the star-spangled banner, followed by a speech - followed by foot races on what was called the old football field, renamed to the girls' athletic fields.
i, a total athletic glutz but in possession of a brand new pair of pf flyer sneakers, couldn't wait for the foot races. i KNEW, because the advertisements trumpeted it, that MY sneakers would make me fleet of foot, miraculously able to leave every other competitor in the dust. yes, my little girl heart fell for the hype & ignored my hapless lack of athleticism.
no one was more eager for the starting whistle than yours truly. i sprung from the starting line with all the confidence of setting a new record for my age group ...with the toning & running experience of a slug.
needless to say, i immediately became the slowest runner on the field, watching the pack whip away from me. brokenhearted at the betrayal of my brand new footwear, i did the only thing that i could think to do to make it bearable - i scanned the sidelines for a safe face. and tore into the arms of my mortified older brother.
poor mike. he & my other surviving siblings were great athletes throughout their school years. here, not only was i a total flub at foot races, he'd been singled him out by my running OFF the field & flinging myself into his arms. could feel his discomfort, his embarrassment through his shirt, but i didn't care. he was my brother, he was safe. (and i also remember how totally undone all the pretty girls around him were by my aberrant action, circling around us, comforting this sobbing child - looking back, can only imagine it made him big brownie points.)
so many thoughts from that one race. it marked me forever as not only a lousy athlete, but also as unsportsmanlike for leaving the field instead of finishing the race, no matter how far behind the others. but i have no sad thoughts from that race, only the memory of how i felt on catching sight of my big brother. sanctuary, sanctuary!
how i felt about mike back then is pretty much how i felt about all of my siblings - they were my sanctuary, my safe places from the storm of life. and i think that sense was born into me, as well as nurtured through mim's many messages about holding family in my heart & loyalties.
that moment - expected glory ending ignominiously - isn't a bitter memory, or even bittersweet. savory would be the best word, well seasoned with hope & love & a straight-line pursuit of comforting arms.
in my family, it was the most flat-out happy, least angst-ridden holiday. fun, food & family - a mega winning combination!
so many great memories around bryn athyn july 4th celebrations. my very first memory is from when i was probably around seven years old.
background: to this day, the parade around what is now benade hall circle is followed by all of us gathering around the flag pole to sing the star-spangled banner, followed by a speech - followed by foot races on what was called the old football field, renamed to the girls' athletic fields.
i, a total athletic glutz but in possession of a brand new pair of pf flyer sneakers, couldn't wait for the foot races. i KNEW, because the advertisements trumpeted it, that MY sneakers would make me fleet of foot, miraculously able to leave every other competitor in the dust. yes, my little girl heart fell for the hype & ignored my hapless lack of athleticism.
no one was more eager for the starting whistle than yours truly. i sprung from the starting line with all the confidence of setting a new record for my age group ...with the toning & running experience of a slug.
needless to say, i immediately became the slowest runner on the field, watching the pack whip away from me. brokenhearted at the betrayal of my brand new footwear, i did the only thing that i could think to do to make it bearable - i scanned the sidelines for a safe face. and tore into the arms of my mortified older brother.
poor mike. he & my other surviving siblings were great athletes throughout their school years. here, not only was i a total flub at foot races, he'd been singled him out by my running OFF the field & flinging myself into his arms. could feel his discomfort, his embarrassment through his shirt, but i didn't care. he was my brother, he was safe. (and i also remember how totally undone all the pretty girls around him were by my aberrant action, circling around us, comforting this sobbing child - looking back, can only imagine it made him big brownie points.)
so many thoughts from that one race. it marked me forever as not only a lousy athlete, but also as unsportsmanlike for leaving the field instead of finishing the race, no matter how far behind the others. but i have no sad thoughts from that race, only the memory of how i felt on catching sight of my big brother. sanctuary, sanctuary!
how i felt about mike back then is pretty much how i felt about all of my siblings - they were my sanctuary, my safe places from the storm of life. and i think that sense was born into me, as well as nurtured through mim's many messages about holding family in my heart & loyalties.
that moment - expected glory ending ignominiously - isn't a bitter memory, or even bittersweet. savory would be the best word, well seasoned with hope & love & a straight-line pursuit of comforting arms.
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