|
December 8, 2007 I listened to her words and knew them as truth. It is a time of change, of transition from a life lived outward in self-sacrifice to one of service that no longer means serving up oneself. Her words, not mine (Northrup). I wish I had been so clear and succinct. Mid-life: a time of transition for both men and women, and also a type of death. Her message told me why this phase of my life felt like a death. From a hormonal perspective for women, the body switches from having hormones related to ovulation and creativity ebb and flow to arriving at higher sustained levels of those hormones and a state of outward inspiration that comes with this change in body chemistry. In this sense it is a rebirth - a time of recreating the self. Where do I go from here now that I have completed this younger, birthing phase of my life and advance towards the dying stage? How do I rebirth myself to live the second half of my life better than the first, when the first did not turn out as expected or planned? I was going to be married and have a family – what the heck happened? It is a time for both men and women that calls the individual to face the unhealed past, lift it up by the boot strings, twirl it, and send it catapulting into a better tomorrow. It is a time to peer squarely into the dark corners of the bedroom when you are alone at night to claim the inner power of who you are and who you will be. I felt as if I was letting go of a dream. What I was really giving up, was the dream that everyone else had for me - of what I could do to meet their needs. I was raised as a Christian – a legacy of sacrifice starting with the image of the cross. As I began to let go of serving everyone else, I admit to feeling guilty. Serving everyone else’s emotional needs was all I had ever known. It started at an early age – “If I just do ____, then everyone will love me.” I knew the moments when I was able to said “NO!” to this once and finally. I loved him and we had been close for nearly to 2 years. I let him closer than any other man. Until be began to come to my home to talk about another woman in his life and her woes – not his wife who was away for a year, and not his sister. The talk was about how he could change her to make her more like someone else - to shoot a gun, to balance a budget – how he could shape and mold her. Mind you, she was completely incapable of shooting the broadside of a barn from 8 feet. Ever increasing amounts of our time together was occupied with his fantasies about her, his description of her needs, and his power over her. While I greatly appreciated that she mattered to him, she was of no interest to me. I had no interest spending my precious time with him listening to him go on and on about the woes of another woman who was not a part of my life and likely never would be. As it continued, his motives for spending my time focused on her began to be suspect. And who was I kidding? In order to have him love me, I had to sit and listen? Was that the message – to sit and take it in? Since I viewed her as a LaBrea tar pit of need, I saw no apparent end to this uninvited trend in our conversations. That was the exact moment it stopped. Wait there was another moment of clarity: when I woke up to realize that I had sold myself and my life work out for bottom basement prices. “The book”, when I wrote it I left the door wide open for all who shared their expertise to claim that the book came from their creative efforts and knowledge rather than mine and my own creative process. I was teaching a class and watched one of those experts and someone I called friend begin to cross a boundary. He began to teach my segment while I was mid-process of coaching a class. This sent a not so subtle message, “She cannot teach this, I AM THE EXPERT, its all about ME!” I pulled my friend aside to let him know that his infringement on my assigned teaching time was not okay. I realized how very well I had trained him to take advantage of me when he responded by saying that if we taught together again, he would do the same thing again. When approached about team teaching with him again, I said, “No thank you. I have to love myself more.” I think he may have found the answer confusing but in the final analysis, who cares if he understood. It was not about him, it was about me and my journey and my life’s work. Were these two moments the end of a fight, or the start? Certainly it heralded the beginning of finally being honest with my self about all that I had stuffed deep down inside for so many years. That stuffing of emotions caused some torment. At the very least it was insincere. I say without anger, thank you to both men for the lesson. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. You were jailors who set me free. Then, just as I was being dragged kicking and screaming into the next phase of my life she arrived to hold up the mirror of my past in front of me with her hopes that the mirror shatter. In contrast to my body which seems to be edging outwards and fighting common diseases of aging, she is firmly planted in the first phase of life with long hair, thin body, young attitude, and oh-so-cute. She described herself to me as a lapdog – in that outward phase that says to the world, “If I am just lovable it is enough and everyone will love me because of all I do to make them love me – therefore whether I deliver on my word and WHAT I do does not matter.” In the second part of life that catches up with one in a big hurry. While being likable helps, deadlines matter. Wait! I am cute and that is enough! Yes, that helps, but producing matters too. But I am lovable! Sometimes the most loving thing one can do is being unlovable. A belief system that is based on being liked alone will surely collide with hard reality soon. While being cute and lovable are important, those things tend to be predicated on sacrifice and living a lie. There is no greater lie than lying to oneself. Sometimes you have to step up and fight a fight for something that matters. And at that moment, the faint of heart tend to flee. Where the rubber meets the pavement….Creativity produces in the tangible world. Thought is translated into action that instigates forward motion - not just apparent movement in place, or looking busy. Can you produce in this world without loosing your femininity? That I had to be like a man to create and produce in this world was another lie that I lived. I once thought I had to dress like a white man in a suit to be respected and successful. How wrong I was. How wonderful to know today that I can let my hair be soft and still be strong. All I had to be was in touch with myself and competent. I sat in a meeting last week surrounded by men in the construction industry, and was at home. Was I wearing stiletto heels or a severe suit? No. Was I acting like a man? No. I was myself. Within this transition I now recognize that there are a few basic permissions I must give to grow. Permission to love myself first. This starts with being honest and ready to hold ground for the things that really matter. Permission to discover pleasure and ecstasy, not just of the sensual kind. Simple pleasures can start with a glimmer of time that is mine and mine alone - with a pregnant moment of staring at the ridge line towering above me, or with humor found in my dog’s silly antics. And what about permission to take the time necessary to take care of my body and spirit? That’s more important than ever. Clearly mid-life is a time of rediscovery. I no longer have to be responsible for the raising of a child - instead I raised myself. After all I was a child. I am ready to be an adult filled with wisdom, humor, and self-assurance. I can finally let go of all the things that were within me and outwardly expressed that came from insecurity. I can enter a room full of people and own it because I no longer have to take anything back from that room to feel better about who I am. I am. Here and now, I am here. Sometimes on the way to a dream we find an even better one. Unknown Shaolin Saying Reference: The Wisdom of Menopause | Christiane Northrup, MD
©2007 Kristie Kilgore
|
click here if it doesn't load.
|
||||||||||||||
