Today I had a really interesting conversation with a dear friend about and article we both read today.  And I wanted to expand on that a bit here and post my thoughts about it.  Feel free to chime in with your own.

Dear Prudence,
My wife is planning to attend a professional conference in a few months in a warm location while I stay at home with our two young boys. In years past I have gone with her, but this year one son is in school. As much as I’ll be frazzled by five days alone with them, I’m happy that my wife is able to build her reputation. But she will be attending the conference with a guy I don’t care for, because he acts like he’s my wife’s best friend. They worked together for several years, and he was essentially her “work husband”—lunches together, drinks after work with their co-workers, texts and calls at home, inside jokes, birthday presents. I’ve tried to explain my belief that a man should not be “buddies” with another man’s wife, but my wife doesn’t see it and says they’re just pals. At the conference my wife will essentially be “dating” this guy for five days. I do trust my wife completely. But this guy is single and would, I’m sure, like to get involved if the opportunity were available. I’m annoyed that I will be home with the boys while she is on vacation with another man. I can’t ask her not to go, and I can’t join her. What can I do?

—Convention Dissension

 

Dear Convention,
What you shouldn’t do, once you tuck in the kids, is watch the movie Cedar Rapids. In that convention story, the insurance agent played by Anne Heche looks forward to the annual blowout so she can get away from her dutiful marriage, swim naked in the hotel pool, and get laid. Poor you, five days alone with your own sons, while your wife goes someplace warm (the nerve!), sees old colleagues, makes professional connections, and has some fun (bad Mommy!). One paragraph of your self-pity and bluster makes me want to pull up a lounge chair, order a pitcher of mojitos, and drown out the lectures on proper relations with the opposite sex. You’re right that some people have office spouses. This can be tricky because while it doesn’t offer conjugal privileges, it also doesn’t include such romance killers as wiping the kids’ noses and hauling the groceries. But you say you trust your wife completely, and during the years she worked with her office husband, they did not have an affair. I agree that if her relationship with her former colleague had been intruding on your time together, you would have been justified in asking for fewer happy hours and a moratorium on home phone calls—but they’re not even co-workers anymore. Stop harping on this conference, which is months away. When it rolls around, wish her a great trip and say you and the boys will enjoy doing guy stuff. That way, instead of thinking about what a relief it is to get away from her jealous prig, she will feel that no office husband measures up to the real thing.

—Prudie

So I personally agreed with Prudie, even though most of the time I think she is pretty clueless. This time however, I could relate and had my own feelings about the post. There are a lot of issues in that relationship that have little do with the “WorkHusband” and that couple needs to address them for their children.

However my friend didn’t agree.  And I totally understand and respect her point of view.  Her thoughts were that she didn’t feel comfortable with the situation and wasn’t sure she could feel as confidant in letting the one she loves have that type of friendship with a member of the opposite sex.

But I saw something in the letter from the husband that drew my attention. The situation is only from the husband’s point of view. He uses words that draw emotion from the reader. He wants sympathy and wants to point our that he’s upset that he is the one to be home with HIS children. So sad for him.. to have to spend time with his own kids.

My hubby travels ALOT. He travels everywhere, including warm sunny areas and leaves me home in the cold winterland.. but really, it’s NOT a vacation for him. Even though I tend to tease him about leaving his cares and flying off to somewhere warm, I know he’s not happy about it. I know there are lots of beautiful women who also have to travel and are at the events that he is at. But honestly, if you are going to be with someone you have to give up having know where they are night and day. Everyone is entitled to some private time and nobody should have the right to judge them for who they choose to have as a friend.

 

 

I think there is a different mentality when you are married to someone who has a job that requires them to travel and a corporate setting. Michael has always worked equally with both men and women and to be honest, at first I was pretty jealous when he would stay after work and go out for dinner and drinks with co-workers, especially when one of them is a very pretty and smart woman with lots of charm. I gave him hell all the time for spending more time with them than I felt he was with me while I was home “stuck” with the kids and not feeling good about myself and I took it out on him. I was the one who started a lot of fights and really damaged our marriage. I was wicked mean, I said terrible things.  But really it was my own ugly inner voice that I had allowed to take charge of my life and tell me lies.

 

I didn’t see was that I was actually the one hurting my marriage with my own imagination. When he started traveling, I resented being left behind. I didn’t see that he was miserable having to eat alone in restaurants and would often skip meals or eat in his room while talking to me. I didn’t ever want to hurt him, but I did when I accused him of not loving me enough to stay faithful and not being able to control himself if I wasn’t watching over him.

 

The article says the wife ”worked” with the man who the husband was jealous of.. it doesn’t say that the guy doesn’t still work in the same line of work maybe in a different role. Michael has had LOTS of different roles and he keeps his connections with everyone because at a corporate level those connections are very important. You never know when you will have to be gone 1,2, or even 3 weeks away from home and knowing someone else that you like makes those long trips away from home a little easier.. maybe you won’t have to eat alone, maybe you won’t be the wallflower at the meet and drink.

 

 The fact that this woman has found a friend who she can laugh with and probably vent about her jealous husband who obviously has a problem with her career. Having a friend of the opposite sex isn’t a sin, a crime, or a good enough reason to be jealous. I have lots of guy friends, that doesn’t mean I am having sex with them. We laugh, we have jokes that make sense to only us because we were together when something was funny, we call and text each other because we are friends.. that’s what friends do. It’s not stupid to believe that my husband is entitled to have a good time on his work trips with people he calls his friends, even his “WorkWife” who is a lovely woman who I really enjoy spending time with as well.  And it’s just as not stupid for me to be able to enjoy having dinner with my friends and love the fact that I am happily married and I know that my husband trusts me to keep my lady parts to myself. I am not some animal who can’t control her impulses and neither is that poor woman.

 

And it’s true that not everyone has a relationship like mine.  But that didn’t come easily and I know it.  I’ve been in a few relationships that sadly ended in cheating. The one thing that I had to learn the hard way was that I am responsible for ME, my fears, my trust, my part in the relationship. You can’t control anyone else with either fear of punishment, abuse, or manipulation. I can’t demand that my spouse will have sex with only me. I can’t demand that he will always love me. I can’t set down rules with implied punishments. I can control only me and accept only my own rules for myself. I can have an open conversation with my spouse about how I would feel if he chose to have a sexual relationship with someone else, how it would hurt, how it would make me doubt our commitment to each other and our family, how I would take a serious hit to my own self-esteem. But ultimately, it’s up to my husband to live his own life.

I’ve been cheated on. And the one thing that I can see only now is that those relationships were never healthy before the cheating ever started.  But if I want to trust the people in my life not to hurt me, then I have to be willing to give them a chance first.

 

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I tend to be a dreamer, getting lost in thoughts so vivid that I drift away to someone place just for a moment.  This is NOT a good thing when driving.. trust me. Thankfully I’ve always avoided accidents and found ways to pull back out of those mind-trapping thoughts before they drove me into danger. But every once in a while I’ve been free enough to let those moments settle in and enjoyed them, finding ways to work through times in my life that actually needed more attention. Mentally talking out some painful moments, confused conversations, places that I’d put away for a while and found the time to pull back out and deal with.

I’m thankful for that ability to mentally see those times, the familiar faces, the sound of those voices. I think it helps, I know that I can stop at any time and put them back on that shelf and deal with them as I can. Most importantly I’ve learned that by picking at those painful places a tiny bit at a time that I have actually become a much happier and more forgiving person. Not to say that I don’t hold grudges, I am a woman.. women created grudges!  But more that when I pull those times out I’ve had time to rationalize them and see them from different moments in my life.

As a teen, things were so complicated.  Hormones mixed with frustrating situations beyond my control made for an emotional few years that I didn’t really have the understanding at the time to know how to deal with. As a young adult you think you have a full understanding of what’s going on and how to handle it, yet there’s this part of you that wants to fall back to childhood and just pretend that it’s not exactly how it looks.  I had my share of drama, of feeling like I was walking through the hallways of my high school with absolutely no idea of what to do next and where I should go. I’d look around at the people in my life and think that they all had it so together and nobody else looked like their lives had ever seen a bad day.  I was wrong, so wrong that it would take 20 years to figure out how wrong I really was.

I looked for something then and found it only briefly.  I looked for a deeper connection with other human beings that would help me to understand the human soul. I allowed quick moments of friendliness to attempt to find those connections, but only found them sometimes overwhelming and pulled back to shyness that appeared as emotionless indifference.  I found girls the most difficult to understand and their cruelty left scars that would take decades to heal over to be able to trust the female mind with my friendship. Boys however were easy to understand and welcomed my attention.  To me they were curious with their unwritten rules between them, these imbedded guides that they seemed to just know as if they were born with a guidebook that I as a female had not been given.  “It’s ok to stand with a man to pee, unprotected and unguarded with your delicate parts exposed, but it is NOT ok to tell your guy friends what really scares you. ” or the even more intriguing fellowship of brothers that binds them together like blood. I found friendships with boys easy, there were no complex meanings to their conversations, no digging for gossip, nothing but face-value. I enjoyed their jokes, took comfort in their protective stance against the world should insult come my way, and came to find that even though most lacked that connection I was seeking a few had flickers of it from time to time, enough to seal them as forever friends, making promises that would never be broken of holding a special place for our friendship no matter time or distance. For the most part, I haven’t broken any of those promises. A few of them still tender to my heart in spite of the years gone by without conversation, without keeping touch.  Others have been lost but their memory of our youth will always be cherished in those vivid daydreams. 

Perhaps it’s a desire to know that no matter where I might travel I won’t be forgotten, I won’t be dead to them in their thoughts.  I don’t want to die from forgotteness.  I am still here.. and in some land of memories my old friends are still as well.

I’d love more than anything for my life today, the one I love so much with the people I adore to be able to meet some of those lost friends. I’d love for Michael to meet that crazy girl who made me laugh at her funny antics and silly dares, now all grown up but still full of laughter and this brilliant personality that just makes me smile.  I wish he’d be able to sit and enjoy some of my old memory walks with old friends as I do listening to his.  I’m not sure if I could handle visiting my actual hometown, but it was always the people who were home… not so much the place.

I’d love to be able to sit and enjoy a cup of coffee with old friends. To see them in real life and not just the memories of them as children would be amazing. Perhaps it’s still my desire to understand human connections and find out if once they are made if they continue to exist even when they seem so invisible. Perhaps all I have are these vivid daydreams, memories of voices, and a make-believe world where friendships never end because for a brief moment in time we allowed our souls to shine to one another and the brilliance of that light made us oh so much better for it.

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I know that I try to keep out of politics on my blog. But from time to time reaching into my own personal beliefs to share is what you’ll find here. I welcome your thoughts and I don’t mind if you don’t agree with me either. It’s how we learn, grow, and how we connect with other people. However, a lot of people are scared to voice their real feelings about topics that others might not agree on. They feel threatened to tone down their views or withdraw their true feelings for the majority.  That’s not to say that blasting everyone with your opinion and being an ass it the right thing either. In fact, nobody listens to the guy who is yelling his facts and point.

However, my thoughts today wandered to the fact that we have  become brutalized by the 2 main political parties to think that we have to agree with one of them or our views don’t matter.  The religious christian hegemony has taken control of our government and lost the true foundation of our country, religious freedom and the right to make our own choices.  I don’t want to be part of a war that I don’t believe in, yet our country is constantly sending out troops to fight in wars that have nothing to do with us and thus bringing that hate back upon us. I am sick of hearing of one more soldier not coming home to his or her family because of a terrorist bomb in a country that doesn’t want us there.  Yet few candidates for President of the United States are willing to stand up there and promise that it will pull back government power from our lives and the rest of the world.

Honestly, I don’t want to know what’s happening in my neighbor’s house. I don’t want to go over there and try to fix their family, the marriage, or their money issues. I don’t think that storming over there and setting the house on fire and then standing outside and watching it burn down is going to help anyone. And I darn sure wouldn’t want anyone doing that to me either. I don’t see why the money I pay in taxes to support my country is being used to do things I morally disagree with.

If you want to take drugs, have an abortion, or do nothing with your life.. that’s your choice, have at it. BUT, I shouldn’t have to be forced to give part of the money my husband and I work hard to earn, to support your stupidity. I shouldn’t be forced to give you a choice when I have no choice about if I have to fund it or not with my taxes. All these pro-choice cheerleaders haven’t figured out that what they really want is to take away my choice to support their cause. They scream that every woman has a right to make the choices for her own body and I don’t disagree. But I should also have the right to opt out of supporting her abortion, her free clinic trips for having unsafe sex, or her right to live on welfare. I should have the right to choose if my money given in taxes should be used to continue treatment for meth clinics or should it be used to legalize marijuana.  If everyone wants a choice for what is good for them, why can’t I have a choice of if we have to support it or not? Why should a church or other religious institution be forced to allow abortions and contraception as part of their healthcare for their employees if it goes against their moral beliefs? This makes as much sense as a fish riding a bicycle.

But.. who am I? Nobody is really listening to me anyways. Or are they?

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One of the hardest parts about working from home for yourself is the fact that the days do actually go by really fast and most of the time I am actually not getting paid for that.  I read the blogs, go through message boards to constantly keep learning more about my trade, and I spend a great deal of time promoting my shop on Etsy, Facebook, Twitter, and my other Blog. There are days like today that I look at the clock and groan that it’s after 4 and I have more to do.

Part of what I do each day is to review my shop. Trying to keep on top of trends and keeping my shop fresh is a big deal.  Knowing what is popular, what might become popular, what people are searching for, and how you can offer what everyone wants is a large part of my day. I get around 100-120 people a day looking through my shop for the perfect gift.  But there is always a push to grab the attention of even more people.  More people will result in more sales.

I am also teaching myself about my new digitizer software which is not super difficult, but it has a lot to learn. Whenever you have to self teach yourself anything, there is a lot of trial and error. And I have made a lot of errors in learning how to do this. I love it, but goodness.. it’s not easy.  I know however that I need to keep learning and make this work so that it can be a part of my shop and actually pay for itself one day.  These things are crazy expensive and honestly it scares me that I just won’t be able to master it.

I’m thankful for the chance to work hard to make this work. I love what I do and I love the people I get to meet along the way. But it’s always kind of odd to me when I am put in the spotlight when people I have known for a while realize that I have the shop and want to know more about it.  I feel this shy buzz come over me and wish that I could just give them the website and hope they like it. Though Morning Tempest is mine and I am so proud of it, I haven’t learned how to show that offline just yet.

Maybe I will research that tomorrow..

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“I thought of all the others who had tried to tie her to the ground and failed. So I resisted showing her the songs and poems I had written, knowing that too much truth can ruin a thing. And if that meant she wasn’t entirely mine, what of it? I would be the one she could always return to without fear of recrimination or question. So I did not try to win her and contented myself with playing a beautiful game. But there was always a part of me that hoped for more, and so there was a part of me that was always a fool.”    ―      Patrick Rothfuss,        The Wise Man’s Fear

Image via Wikipedia

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I saw this posted today, this poem that stirred my soul and caused poetic butterflies to flutter about my cluttered mind and draw my attention to knowing more.  I’d never heard of this poet, Rumi.. but now I think that these words had reason to be seen today.  I needed redirection from disastrous thoughts, needed clarity on matters beyond my control. So, I share The Guest House with you.

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all! Even if they are a crowd of sorrows, who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture, still, treat each guest honorably. He may be clearing you out for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice. meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.

Be grateful for whatever comes. because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.

– Jelaluddin Rumi,     translation by Coleman Barks

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Image via Wikipedia

This is one of my favorite recipes for a nice dinner.  It takes a little bit of extra time in the kitchen, but the result is worth the effort.

Ingredients:

•  1/2 pound wide noodles -prepared according to package directions
•  3 1/2 cups seitan, sliced in thin wide strips
•  2 tablespoons +1 teaspoon olive oil
•  1 large onion- quartered and sliced in half moons
•  3 cloves garlic- minced
•  2 cups cremini mushrooms thinly sliced
• 1 cup burgundy cooking wine or ”Beef” flavored vegetarian broth
•  2 cups cold water
•  2 tablespoons arrowroot powder (corn or potato starch will work, too)
• 1 tablespoon paprika
• 2 teaspoons salt
•  1/2 cup nutritional yeast flakes
•  2 teaspoons dijon mustard
•  1/2 cup sour cream
•  1 cup peas

Directions:

Dissolve the arrow root in the 2 cups of water, set aside.

Heat olive oil in skillet over med-high heat. Add the onions, saute for 5 minutes. Add garlic and mushrooms. Saute for 15 minutes. Now add salt, wine or broth and paprika. Turn heat up high to reduce the liquid, about 10 minutes.

Meanwhile, heat a cast iron skillet with 1 teaspoon olive oil, just to coat it. Add the seitan and saute over medium heat about 25 minutes, until it is dark brown and crispy on the outside. If you are using store-bought seitan you need only cook it for 10 minutes.

Lower heat to med-high, add water and arrowroot, stir well and let sauce thicken, about 5 minutes. Add nutritional yeast and mix well until it is dissolved. Add sour and mustard and bring heat down to low. DO NOT ALLOW TO BOIL. Add seitan and peas, cook for 10 more minutes.

Serve over your noodles and have a great dinner.

This recipe originally came from the Post Punk Kitchen and I have adapted it a few times to work with our tastes.  It’s really good and I love making the seitan from scratch so I know exactly what’s in the meal.

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Plus size model Lizzie Miller stuns the world with her beauty and fights "Fat" with her amazing smile.

“Fat” isn’t racist or sexist, it hates everyone. It doesn’t care if you are young or old, because it will touch your life no matter who you are. It’s there; lingering behind the image in the mirror, in those photos of you when you weren’t looking or posing for the camera, “Fat” is always there behind judging eyes. You can’t escape it. You know that look, when you walk into the room and you feel the examination by those with petty voices and lower self-esteem. They look you over, lingering not over your womanly bosom, but searching for signs of excess and unapproved flaws. You know who she is, that mean little woman who talks about how she can’t wait to get to the GYM, how much she eats.. or doesn’t, how “Fat” she is. It’s true… she is “Fat” because she has become that word, that feeling, that ugly cruelty. She’s forgotten how pretty she looks when she’s not obsessed with weight. She can’t see past the way it makes her feel and how angry she is that she’s allowed “Fat” to rule her life so she wants it to ruin yours too.

Don’t think that “Fat” isn’t a liar, because it’s the worst kind of liar. It hides behind beautiful photos of starving models and claims that everyone who matters are thin and fragile looking. “Fat” tells you that you aren’t healthy because you aren’t like them. “Fat” tells you that you are a failure because all you wanted was something sweet to take away the bitterness of the day. “Fat” tells you that nobody will ever love you. It comes to you in private places and tells you that all of your worth is out there for everyone to see, it’s wrong. It knows, but it will lie anyways. Like an unfaithful lover, “Fat” will be there with you and pretend that everything is ok, smile in every photo, but it will eat away at your soul because you always know the truth.

Our innocents are even subjected to “Fat” and the ugly tendrils of its reach. Grandmothers, feeling the need whisper, in good nature scold that maybe Baby is a little TOO chubby, shreds the joy and confidence of Motherhood and leaves doubt at a mother’s ability. It clears room for “Fat” to come slither up closer and whisper that maybe Baby gets it from Mommy… who obviously hasn’t lost any weight since the pregnancy. Perhaps both of them should lay off the sweets. Right?

"Overweight Kate" is a nickname which kids used to call Kate Dillon. I'd say, wow, look at that skin! So soft, you just want to touch it.

Do not mistake “Fat” for being unhealthy.  Do not mistake those who want to make their bodies stronger, healthier so that they can enjoy their lives fuller and longer. Don’t allow “Fat” to be the reason that you take that walk, pass on the extra oils, or choose to drink more water instead of the latte.  Do it because it’s right for your body. Do it because it brings joy to your life to take that time for yourself and make  your body work for you. Enjoy the release of your body’s hormones of pleasure as if it actually feels buzzing with life. Do it because that joy damages the power “Fat” has on you.

 Be proud of your body. Love it like nobody else ever will. Give it time when it’s tired and had a long day. Be faithful to it, as if your life depends on caring for this beautiful relationship, it does. Look at your amazing perfect body and delight in the knowing that you are just perfect together, because you are. Don’t let anyone abuse it, make it feel unworthy; try to take away the worth, because you are the sacred guardian of this special gift. Look at it as proudly as you would your greatest masterpiece and share that pride without restraint. You wouldn’t treat your greatest work with disrespect, mask it with shameful lies of its true meaning, hide it behind layers of doubt, yet you would your body. Wouldn’t you?

I’m tired of the way “Fat” made me feel this week. I’m sick of the way I let it sink into my thoughts and lie to me when I had felt confidant just a few moments before. I hate the way “Fat” was slung at me like an ugly dead thing and left in my soul to rot and stink up my life. I am so proud of those models who have made a stand and are showing the world that their bodies are amazing with every soft curve, so full womanly essence that their photos scream beauty. “Fat” tries to mock beauty with its disgusting judgments. But perhaps the one thing more powerful that “Fat” is confidence.

REAL Woman versus the “model” (momof7.com)

I wanted to share this with my readers. It’s amazing sometimes when you read something and it pulls you into the world of the writer. You find your head nodding as you agree with the words that mean something to you. There are parts that touched me and made me smile as I read her words and silently said ” Yeah, I know that feeling. “

Moving on is like one day, you’re walking or reading or drinking the sun and one of those footprints, one of those artifacts will creep into your consciousness, “already seen,” the French call this, déjà vu, and you won’t know where it belongs or how it got there. All it takes is a familiar laugh, a recognizable word and you are transported to who knows where.

There are indeed old bones that you trip across in your life from time to time and you realize those used to be real people in your life, people you thought meant something and would be around forever. But in reality forever doesn’t last as long as you might think when it comes to relationships.  Forever just becomes a measurement of time longer than an hour, longer than the longest week you’ve ever had, and long enough to make it feel as if when it’s over that part of you will never be the same. That’s how long forever is. 

Give this article a try, see if it reaches in and pulls at you. Have you moved on?