The Crab Chronicles

Fill Your Head Carefully

I came across this meme the other day and re-posted it on my Facebook page because it applies to so many people I know:

One thing I have learned over the years is how powerful our thoughts are, and how important it is to guard them. A few examples of what NOT to do:

For most of my adult life, I thought I would never be happy until I was married. I pursued a husband like it was my job. Only when I gave up on that idea did I stop being anxious and unhappy all the time.

I have a relative who is brilliant, and he is constantly denigrating everyone around him for being stupid. Probably 98% of the folks in the world are not as intelligent as he is, but guess what? It's lonely thinking everyone around you is stupid. Makes it hard to find friends or romantic partners.

I have a friend who is gay and who is constantly on the lookout for anti-gay sentiments. Guess what? He is filled with righteous anger because he finds a lot of folks who do not meet his criteria of being perfectly tolerant. So he stays angry all the time.

If you are filled with anger at stupid people, or intolerant people, or Democrats or Republicans or non-Christians guess what? You are poisoning yourself.

What we tell ourselves becomes our truth.

A man I know has struggled with addictions to drugs and/or alcohol. He says this to himself: if I am not drinking/using drugs I cannot relax and if I cannot relax I cannot be happy. So his mindset is that he can keep using and be happy, or stop using and be miserable. Guess which choice he keeps making?!

I have an acquaintance who lost a family member to suicide and it has become what defines her, that grief. She feels partially responsible for that death. I'm sure she feels like she cannot stop thinking about it because then she would be a terrible person for giving up that grief/guilt that has become so much a part of her now. Happiness feels like a betrayal. If she were sitting with me I would say to her "If his spirit were here today, would he want you to carry the heavy weight of grief and guilt the way you do? Would he want you to turn away from happiness because wallowing in guilt feels so much more comfortable?" She would get very angry with me but deep down, she would know I am right.

Death makes everything so much more complicated.

Politics and religion make everything even more complicated.

About a year ago I got to know a distant cousin that I connected with on 23andMe. Brilliant guy. We became Facebook friends. I had to unfriend him, however, because all his posts are political. He is filled with loathing for the president. Every post is about that one thing. If he were sitting here with me he would say what a terrible person I am for not jumping on the I Hate Trump bandwagon and screaming and jumping up and down with righteous indignation about everything Trump does and/or says. I would calmly say "Like EVERY PRESIDENT he does things I don't like and he also does things I like." That's life. No president in my lifetime has ever been Pure Evil or Pure Good. Like so many people in this country, however, my cousin is filling his head with hatred, every day, and obsessively counting the days until the next election. What good is that doing?!? What does that accomplish? The people who loathe Trump won't change their minds and the people who love Trump won't change their minds -- not because of Facebook posts.

The truth is that politicians are always going to make us angry if we allow them that power. Preachers will make us feel guilty if we give them that power. Our family members will make us angry/guilty/sad [or whatever] IF we give them that power. Any person or thing who brings out extreme emotions in us is controlling us, and we are the puppets in their hands.

Years ago I realized that I can stop thinking negative thoughts and lead a much happier life. I control my thoughts. I thus control my expectations.

I stopped being obsessed with my appearance and it stopped controlling me. I stopped being obsessed with bending everyone I love to my way of thinking and I quit worrying about that. I stopped trying to live up to anyone's expectations and guess what?? I am a MUCH MORE HAPPY person. I am not perfect. I still struggle every day with my thoughts and opinions. I am a work in progress, like everyone else.

When you start to fill your head with grief, anger, contempt, or any other negative emotion, stop and take a deep breath, and think of something else, something happy [a laughing baby, a kiss with your sweetheart, a favorite song, etc.] and eventually you will find it much easier to turn off the negative thoughts and then, then you may experience something rare and beautiful --

Peace.

A Few Thoughts About Pride and Love

June is Pride month and if you have to ask what that means, you probably don’t have friends or relatives or colleagues who are gay, bi, or trans. I do. I am very happy to see the huge change that has come about just in my lifetime because for me the issue isn’t academic or even purely political, it’s personal.

No, I am not gay, bi, or trans. I would say so if that were the case, however.  I wouldn’t hide it.

Things are so much better now than they used to be.

My mother grew up with three first cousins who were gay. One of them spent his life in a mental hospital. One died young of a heart attack. One of them became an alcoholic, then homeless. One of those men (the one who died from alcoholism) was like a brother to Mom, and they spent a lot of time together growing up.

There was a rift in that branch of Mom’s family when I was a child and for many years Mom didn’t speak to any of these men or their mothers, who were her aunts. The family feud had nothing to do with being gay. It was a dispute over a will. However, Mom was very upset when she found out the harsh fate of her cousin who died homeless.

Sadly, in the bad old days many gay men used to be rejected by their families and were forced to live in secrecy and shame. Many places had laws against homosexual sex. Women were not treated as harshly but there was still a terrible stigma attached to being gay in America.

There are places in the world where there is not only still a stigma, gay people are imprisoned and even put to death simply for being gay. A recent CNN article spells it out:

“70 UN member states still criminalize same-sex relations between two consenting adults... In 26 of those countries, the penalty varies from 10 years in prison to life.”

Earlier this year, in Iran, a gay man was hanged, simply for being gay.

Richard Grenell, our ambassador to Germany (a Trump appointee) is an openly gay man. He is pushing for worldwide de-criminalization of homosexuality. You can learn more about it here.

It’s mind-boggling to me that in 2019 there are still places so backward that gay people can be imprisoned or hanged.

 

Here in America we have made great strides in being a more tolerant nation, but we still have room for improvement.

I have a very close friend who is gay. I’ll call him Greg. We have been friends for 38 years. Greg waited until he was in his 30’s to tell his parents he was gay, because they attended a church where being gay was viewed as a sin. Thankfully, Greg’s parents were loving to him when he came out to them. They said they had known for a long time and it didn’t change their love for him.

I won’t reveal my friend’s name here in this blog, though, because he is a teacher. If he were openly gay he could lose his job, even now. He is a wonderful teacher and his students love him. They likely have no idea he is gay. He doesn’t advertise it. He is out to his friends but quiet about it professionally.

He fears so-called “Christians” and he fears losing his job, which is very sad.

I saw a recent post on Facebook that was a quote saying if you are a good Christian you shouldn’t be mean to someone just because you disapprove of their “lifestyle.”

There’s the crux of the problem. Many people think being gay is a choice or a lifestyle. Even though it’s not, anti-gay prejudice and intolerance are revealed when someone talks about a “lifestyle.”

Greg and I talked about it years ago. “Why would CHOOSE to be gay, Dee?” he said, his voice full of pain and anguish. “I would never choose to be ostracized or even reviled. Nobody would choose that! I fought with myself for years before I finally accepted who I am. Things are much better now, but it’s never been easy.”

I won’t try to wade into the morass of conflicting information out there about whether or not being gay is a choice, but I will say this. Every one of my gay friends and family members feels like they were born gay, and they figured it out from an early age, well before puberty. A truly bisexual person might choose to ignore any same-sex attractions but that doesn’t mean those attractions don’t exist.

There really shouldn’t be a debate about it as far as I’m concerned. It’s really nobody’s business who any adult loves.

Gay marriage is not about endorsing anything. It’s about civil rights. Period. Notice how straight people are STILL getting married, and gay marriage hasn't done one iota of harm, as opponents of gay marriage said it would?

 

I know some folks in my mother’s generation will say “Well why do they have to flaunt being gay? They’re too in your face about it. It’s offensive.”

Um, if they were dressing up in brightly colored clothes and carrying signs saying they love God and they want everyone to know it would you say the same thing, Grandma?

I bet not.

I know I am going to make people made with this post. I don’t care. I think a hundred years from now humans will look back on this time and shake their heads, aghast that there was even a debate about gay rights – just like we wonder why anyone would think slavery is okay. Yet, in 1860 there were a lot of Americans who thought slavery was just fine. They held up the bible and pointed to the verse saying slaves should obey their masters.

You can use the bible to justify just about anything.

Nowhere in the bible is the word "homosexual" used because it was unknown then. It wasn't coined until the 19th century. Nothing was known about sexual preference in biblical days. They did condemn sodomy -- and rightly so -- because in those days men would rape little boys and animals and it was a widespread practice, so of course it was condemned. They weren't talking about sex between consenting adults. If you don't study the cultural and historical context of the time in which the bible was written, you are really misunderstanding the bible.

I should say here that the only church I will ever be a member of is the Episcopal Church and we have been loving our gay brothers and sisters for decades. We have had a gay bishop, Gene Robinson. We don't judge. We interpret the admonitions about spreading the gospel to mean spread the LOVE -- not the judgment.

Here’s the one verse in the bible that actually matters, in my view. I don’t think it’s even arguable:

John 15:12: “My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you." Notice he didn't say judge, or condemn, or just tolerate. He said LOVE. That’s the active verb. That verb is the only one that matters.

I am proud that my gay brothers and sisters can be proud of themselves now. Go love who you want to love!

The Last Days?

When I started researching adoption in 2003 I didn't realize I was starting a journey that would produce not just the family I'd always wanted, but also friendships that would sustain me. I had no idea of any of that. All I knew was that I had visited an orphanage and seen a little girl that I knew in my heart was my daughter.

Shortly after she came home I realized my daughter needed a sibling, and I started researching adoptable children in Russian speaking countries, because I wanted Alesia to be able to help me teach English to a younger sibling. Teaching her had been quite a challenge, simply because I didn't realize that she had a learning disability.

Michael came home in May 2007 and Alesia was a great tutor and sibling to him.

Michael was from Kazakhstan, a country I had only vaguely heard of that day in 2005 when I spotted his photo on the adoption agency website. I was working in the legal department of a hotel company at that time and I had to go examine the world map to figure out where he was.

Kazakhstan is a fascinating country. It's situated east of Europe, right under Russia, and west of China. For centuries, traders between Europe and China traveled across the vast plains of Kazakhstan on a trade route known as The Silk Road.

Sometime around the time I adopted Michael I "met" another adoptive mom who had adopted a little 6 year old girl from Kazakhstan. Although she lives in California and her background is totally different from mine, I liked Judy immediately. She is smart, funny, and she writes a blog. She lives in California, but a few years ago she bought an apartment in New York and she stays there part of every year and sees Broadway shows, goes to museums, etc. I always enjoy reading her blog about all her varied and fun activities.

Although it may sound like a peculiar friendship, my relationship with Judy has always been one of mutual respect and affection. We don't always agree politically, but we agree about a lot of important things.

Judy is one of the few people I can talk to about raising an adopted child who came home not as a baby, but as a fully-formed little human.

Raising a child who has come out of an orphanage and is older than 6 when they are adopted is quite a challenge. Judy has had challenges with her daughter and I have had some with Michael. We both love our children, and we have tried hard to help them. Other parents are great sources of wisdom when it comes to biological children, but they really don't understand the challenges Judy and I have faced.

Most children who live in chaotic birth homes with parents who neglect them carry that emotional scars of that for the rest of their lives. Ditto for kids who spend their earliest years in an orphanage, like Judy's daughter. Our kids didn't have as early examples parents who loved and nurtured them, who protected them from harm and showed them what it's like to cope with adversity in healthy ways. My son watched his birthmom cope with trouble by drinking. Right after he came home he picked up a bottle of perfume on my dresser, smelled it, and said in Russian "My mother used to drink this for the alcohol." [My daughter translated.] I was shocked.

Most kids like my son and Judy's daughter go through periods of hard rebellion when they become teenagers - more rebellious that biological children, usually. It's terrifying to watch, as a parent. Judy's daughter pushed the limits. Michael put me through a lot. Both children are doing well now, though. Judy's daughter is thriving in college, and Michael is headed back to college in the Fall. Our children are smart, resilient, and able to give and receive love. I am so proud of them.

Judy just learned the other day that she has Stage 4 colon cancer. There is a tumor on her colon and it's inoperable. The day she told me that, Wednesday, I cried off and on for most of the day.

You're probably thinking that's weird. I have never actually sat across from Judy and chatted. We've never met in person. I've never shared a meal with her. Yet, I feel like I am losing a member of my family.

I also am constantly berating myself for thinking there's no hope. There is always hope. Miracles do happen, all the time. Ask any doctor or nurse who has more than a few years of experience.

 

A few months ago I finished a book called Dying To Be Me, by Anita Moorjani. She had terminal cancer and actually died from it, in the hospital. Her soul left her body. She writes about it very articulately. Excerpt:

"I didn't feel as though I'd physically gone somewhere else -- it was more as though I'd awakened. Perhaps I'd finally been roused from a bad dream... What I can only describe as superb and glorious unconditional love surrounded me, wrapping me tight as I continued to let go... Love, joy, ecstasy and awe poured into me, through me, and engulfed me. I was enveloped in more love than I ever knew existed. I felt more free and alive than I ever had... I suddenly knew things that weren't physically possible, such as the conversations between medical staff and my family that were taking place far away from my hospital bed."

Anita goes on to talk about time in the other realm isn't linear, it's simultaneous, and how she was able to make contact with her deceased father and best friend. She felt such joy and peace in the other realm. She came out of the coma eventually, and her cancer completely went away.

I gave the book to my mother to read and she, too, found it fascinating. I love this idea: If you want to know about the journey, ask someone on the way back. By coming back and sharing her journey with the world, Anita Moorjani has helped countless people to not fear death. I don't fear it. I don't want anyone I love to fear it. It's simply a transition.

 

I kept thinking about my father's 1996 cancer diagnosis, when I heard from Judy the other day. He had been in such a lot of pain and yet I knew that when he died, the pain would be gone and he would enter into the blissful state Anita describes. Whether Judy is facing the last months of her life or it's simply a very scary bump in the road and she will recover, I feel peaceful. Her life is about to change dramatically, either way.

If Judy is dying, I will miss her friendship terribly. I hope I will also be able to rejoice, though, because she will be out of pain and in a state of peace that I can only imagine. One day our spirits will meet in person and I will rejoice in seeing my old friend, and hug her. One day our Kazakh children will meet, whether in this life or the next.

I am still finding myself crying, at odd moments, for reasons I cannot fully articulate. I don't want Judy to be in pain. I don't wish it on her family either. I am anticipating missing her, and she is not gone yet -- and I am a little angry at myself for pre-grieving. I am also sad that I never got to visit Judy in California, and she probably doesn't feel like traveling, now.

I comfort myself by picturing this: Judy and I sitting and looking out at the ocean, drinking something cold, and talking about our kids, our passions, our lives -- and laughing. So much healing and love comes in the form of laughter. One day it will happen, whether in this life or the next.

Having It All: Career and Motherhood

The 1970's was a decade of tremendous cultural upheaval not only in America but in my life. I am thinking about how growing up during that decade -- I went from age 8 to 18 in the 1970's -- impacted my ideas about career and motherhood and equal rights? For one thing, living through that time and watching things like the rise of women's tennis under Billie Jean King and the fight to get the ERA [Equal Rights Amendment] passed made me aware of the evolving world of what was possible for women.

I find sociological history fascinating. My mother encouraged me to read and listen and understand what was going on in the world around me, much more than most of my peers. I watched the news every night with my dad.

My mother's main 8-18 years were from about 1942-52. Such a different time in America. She wanted to go to law school and become a lawyer, but her aunt's husband [a lawyer in Macon] said no way, women shouldn't be lawyers. He told her to forget it. Now, I have been a paralegal for more than thirty years and I can tell you this: Elva Hasty would have made a fine lawyer. She has a voracious intelligence, she grasps difficult concepts easily, and she can speak to a room full of people without getting freaked out in the slightest. The only issue would have been that she wanted to get married and have children, and she would have found it very difficult to do so in a time when women were basically told to choose either a career OR a family, because having both wasn't possible.

I was talking to a young attorney not long ago and we were reminiscing about the bad old days when young female lawyers were basically told "you better plan to work 60-80 hours a week and forget about family if you want to keep your job." I overheard an attorney years ago telling a young female associate almost those exact words. He wasn't kidding.

In my first job, I saw a very smart female lawyer relegated to doing research and writing briefs -- never getting to manage cases or do any of the fun stuff like depositions or trials -- simply because she was married and had a young child. Her partners forced her to accept less money and less of everything because she dared to want to work an 8 hour day and have a life outside the office.

I worked for a female lawyer here in Atlanta for 6 years and I remember feeling great pity for her, because her male partners never cut her any slack. She had to work so many hours that her child's first language was Korean, because the baby saw her Korean nanny a lot more than she saw her actual mother. Her husband didn't help her much at all, and they ended up divorcing.

Women have always had to fight to have fulfilling careers and be mothers, because men think the same standards must be applied. They don't understand that their way of doing things may not be the best way.

Yet, as a working single mom now for many years I can tell you that the conflict is always there. Should I work more hours so we can have more money and a better life? Should I jump on the "mommy track" and make less money for more time with the kids? What kind of example am I then setting for my children? 

In the 1970's the terms "family friendly workplace" and "work life balance" were unknown. Everybody was still trying to figure it all out.

For example, now women can dress comfortably and casually, in most offices. In the 1970's and 80's women had to wear pantyhose and heels in order to look "professional."

Have you every tried to put on dressy clothes, get kids ready for school, feed everyone, and make your commute, in that short time between awakening and needing to report to work? No? Lucky you.

After many years of pondering work and motherhood there are only a few things I can tell you with certainty.

1. Every working mom has to figure out her own way that works for her family. There truly is no "one size fits all" solution to any of this.
2. All kids are different. Some need a lot of cuddles and mommy time and nurturing. Some don't.
3. Being single makes everything more complicated. All single moms need a trusted support network to be successful at juggling work and family. Friends, family members -- everyone is important. [Full disclosure: Here, I actually feel a bit weird saying "Yes I am a single mom." My mother has lived with me and helped me with my kids almost from day one. We moved in together six months after I adopted my daughter. Mom wasn't a co-parent the way a husband would have been, but she helped me a lot.]
   

I am really glad my children are grown. Life is more complex now than ever, with everyone glued to their Smartphones all the time. Kids are bombarded with stimuli and messages in a way I never was as a child. It's harder for any parent to maintain authority now, I think. You can't raise your child in a bubble. You have to set limits, though.

My growing up years were really slow and contemplative compared to today, and for that I am grateful. Examples: For me, as a child, going to the movies was a big treat. We only had 2-3 stations on the TV. I spent a lot of time reading. I spent a lot of time playing in the neighborhood. My parents weren't constantly on computers or phones -- they actually talked to us, a lot. My idea of a perfect day as a child: swimming at the pool, watching a little bit of TV, playing outside, eating pizza for dinner (a rare treat).

If I had the time, I would research and write a more lengthy piece about this because it's a fascinating and slightly scary topic. I am so glad I had a simpler childhood, without being bombarded by too much information. OTOH I envy girls today who have many more choices than we had. The women's movement has helped girls in so many ways, and most don't have any real understanding of that. They should.

You CAN have it all now, and without wearing pantyhose! Hallelujah.