Family Life

I'm thinking about family dynamics a lot lately. Therapy forced me to look at my own family and look at the roles and responsibilities each person holds in order to make the group function. We establish our roles in a family early on. It's interesting that no matter how much we all change individually, it is more comfortable to regress to our comfort zones as a community.

My brother, Adam, came home this past weekend. We attended a wedding as a family where I got to observe other families interact with my own. When my entire family is together, I notice the complex dynamics that come out in such simple ways. For example, all five of us were in one hotel room with only one bed. Everyone's complaints about one another or ways of coping with the situation said a lot about each of us. It also reminded me what an introvert I am and had me needing quiet. We went straight from the wedding and dropping Adam off at the airport to a family reunion, which really brought out reflections on family dynamics.

Family keeps us humble. When I see a lot of my distant relatives, I cannot connect with them. I think how I would have nothing to do with them in the real world if it weren't for our genetic connection. I'm not saying this to sound like different is bad. I just noticed how different our lives were and how we value such opposite things, and I felt amazed to think that something as simple as sharing some genetic makeup keeps us in each other's lives.

I had the privilege of meeting up with some friends in DC where we compared our family systems and what sort of issues threaten and/or change those dynamics. It's interesting to hear about all of the different issues families deal with. For example, I have friends who have really strained familial relationships, but because they are family, they strive to maintain some sort of connection. I think there's something animalistic and instinctual about maintaining contact with those who share our genetic makeup and/or backgrounds. Like, I've always marveled at the relationships between siblings and how no one knows your background better than your siblings. No one understands talk about your parents better than your siblings. I mean there's just a powerful bond that keeps me needing to be close to my siblings as both friends and family members.

This is straying from my original thoughts, but I'm rather apathetic. I don't want to retrace my thoughts or put effort into constructing a masterpiece. This is my blog, and I can write whatever I want. Stream of consciousness is just what I needed to write tonight.

Life slips by like a field mouse...

And the days are not full enough

By Ezra Pound

And the days are not full enough

And the nights are not full enough

And life slips by like a field mouse

Not shaking the grass

This has been a favorite poem of mine since I discovered it in ninth grade. I chose it because it was short, simple, and powerful. I didn't even know who Ezra Pound was, and I had little experience understanding poetry. It's amazing that at least 8 years later, it still packs just as much punch, if not more. I love how song lyrics, poems, or even words of advice can stick with us and become deeper and more meaningful with time and wisdom. This poem came to mind today, because I felt happy a couple of times. It was one of those rare moments where I could look past the complaints that come along with being human, and just exist in peace. I saw dolphins this morning. They are mystical creatures with so much emotional depth. The more I learn about them, the more I love them. I loved them as a child, but it is another example of having an even deeper respect for them now that I'm older and know more about them and their capacity to feel emotions we've deemed human.

When I was having these "peak moments," I thought about how this is life. It started with me thinking the sky looked heavenly, and how I don't really believe in a literal heaven, but that I believe these moments of peace and beauty on Earth can be our own experiences of heaven. Then I realized, these little moments are what we live for. We work, we struggle, we go through the motions just to have a few moments of peace and joy every now and then. Don't get me wrong, I think those moments are miraculous and totally worth earning, but there's just something so sublime about contemplating our own existence.

I also reflected back on circles in my life because I had a moment that reminded me of S. Dakota. I remember being blown away and excited on my first trip when my eyes were opened to circles in every aspect of our lives. Later, in my freshman year of college, I remember saying to April (who I met on my first trip to S Dakota) that life's circularity was depressing, and I was sick of going in circles. She talked about how going in circles doesn't have to be depressing, because we come back to these "markers" (such as seasons, holidays, birthdays, etc...) with new wisdom and perspective, and that we can use them as tools to self-evaluate. I've thought about both the depressing side and optimistic side of circles, and I've decided it's a little bit of both. I'm leaning more toward the optimistic side lately, though.

I'm visiting Laura in NC. I went nearly 6 months without seeing her, which felt far too long. I have a familial relationship with her, where I've gotten used to relying on her. It's hard because her job is so demanding and our lives are going different ways, so it gets harder and harder to be there all the time for each other. We do a solid job of maintaining a strong friendship, but I'm sure her time in a PhD program and my time with the nuns will force us both to do some independent soul searching, and I realize we might not end up in the exact same place. It's hard to imagine, and we both fear a day we are not as close of friends. I think we can continue to be close friends forever, but I think the nature of growing up is that we all have to develop our own lives. That reminds me of a quote I saw today in a gift shop here--it was something about life isn't about finding yourself, but instead about creating yourself. I think that's pretty empowering. We have complete control over who we choose to be. Sure, some of our personalities are from genetics and past experiences, but having the power to change for the better is encouraging.

Good Times

Life is good these days. I had a blast at Alicia's bachelorette party on Saturday. I was a little worried about such a large group getting together and drinking too much, but there was next to no drama, and everyone had fun. We met lots of new friends throughout the night. Strangers bought Alicia drinks. There were many highlights of the evening, but I think my favorite memory is the one we call "The Great Fall of Leslie." A few girls from our group along with some new friends they met were kareokeing to "Total Eclipse of the Heart." Leslie had been harassing the DJ, asking when it was going to be their turn, but she was in the bathroom when he finally played it. All of the sudden, I see Leslie sprinting out of the bathroom and leaping onto the stage, where she fell flat on her face. Everyone stopped singing, and the entire bar stared. Leslie popped up instantly like a Jack-in-the-box and snatched the mic from one of the girls and started singing along. What made it funnier was that her voice was hoarse from yelling all night, so she had this old smoker's voice going on. We had a blast laughing about that one that night and the next day.

I had the strangest dream last night. It involved the most random group of people: former profs, one of my favorite writers, April, Evan, Silvio, coworkers from The Writing Center and my summer school program, and then some girls who lived in my dorm freshman year whose names I can't even remember. It involved this new dictator in California trying to kill infants with bumblebees to produce some sort of new energy source, my favorite writer coming into a writing class of mine, a talent show with other profs, and then my neighbor from across the street. I don't know what on earth that could mean. Probably just one of those "cleaning out the cobwebs" in my head dreams.

I came up with a question for my favorite writer in this dream, and now I really would like to ask her or someone else who writes personal memoir. I asked her if you ever get used to people asking you about these intensely personal moments we choose to write about, and if you ever develop some sort of protective layer or does it make you feel vulnerable every time. She's been writing about personal issues since she was 23, and she is now in her mid to late thirties, so I figured she would know how to separate work/writing from herself. Although, maybe that's just part of the job description as a memoirist--being okay with being vulnerable if we are in control, I guess?

This is my last week of work. The kids are getting restless, and I'm getting tired. I will miss the kids greatly, so in that sense, I am not ready to be done. I am tired though and ready to look to the future (aka get back into writing and moving in with the nuns) after I have some time for myself and get to visit Laura. I haven't seen her since like my birthday, so that's just too long. It's gonna be 5, almost 6 months since I've seen her when I finally arrive in NC. We've never been apart that long. Crazy how quickly you get used to someone being three blocks away, but how slowly you adjust to them being far away.