The Four Agreements

My absolute lifesaver during the toughest times of my turmoil was a little book called The Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz I can't count how many times I have purchased and given this book away to anyone I've ever met who was "going through."
One sad lonely day I was channel surfing and Sandra Burnhart was on TV talking about how this book had changed her life. Let me say here that I have never liked Sandra Burnhart, but I was compelled after her description, to check this book out. Prior to that, I had perused the self-help, divorce-recovery isles of every bookstore, library and amazon.com and found NOTHING that spoke to my heart and mind. Even my tear stained Bible seemed to depress me. Suddenly, Psalms seemed too cliche.

This little book had all the answers in four easy little steps.

1. Be Impeccable With Words

2. Take Nothing Personal

3. Assume Nothing

4 Always Do Your Best

I won't even go into what it means to me. Check it out for yourself. You will find yourself associating a number with a situation. Depending on the kind of day I am having, I will simply write a number on my hand to remind me to keep all of my agreements. Sometimes I get stuck. This week I am struggling with 3 actually. 1 and 2 are simple (for me). 4 lets me off the hook. 3 is the thinking woman's nemesis.

It is virtually impossible, on some days, to not make assumptions. It is the thinking that works us up. If we can just stop the scripted movie from playing in our heads long enough to allow an event to actually happen, we might find happiness. I really think by making assumptions, we tamper with life's outcomes.

The Four Agreements has taken on a life of it's own. The movement has grown to astronomical proportions, but really, just read it for yourself. Don't buy all the little accompaniments (yet). Just allow yourself to really take in what he is saying. It is a quick read and a mind opener. It is mental wasabi. The book can be purchased anywhere for next to nothing. If you want information, simply click the title of this blog and it will take you to the sight.

Who am I to disagree?

It's not true that animals can smell fear. I have long known this, but it was tonight on a dark walk with my dog that the point was driven home. The police were circling my neighborhood obviously looking for something (or someone). When I realized how far from home I was, I attempted to speed up the walk, but my dog (oblivious to my fear) was casually strolling like another day. She was doing her thing and taking her sweet time I might add.

The same can be said for the opposite sex smelling desperation. My experiences have been that when you think a man smells desperation or fear, it is usually his upper lip. You see, he is just as scared as you are. His biological clock ticks just as loudly. He only hopes he has disguised the sound preferably with a Porsche or Harley Davidson. Like women, men rush in and out of relationships with people they are not necessarily meant to be with. They endure situations out of convenience, complacency and fear. We just can't smell it.

Many times a man will rush out to play the field when all he really wants to do is come on in to something (or someone) good. He's just scared to leave the game before something REALLY good happens. By the time these men calm down, they are used, spent, jaded. Or worse, out of gas. There is no real value in someone who is simply exhausted from playing the field. He usually rushes to settle down with the first person he can put up with, or who will put up with him.

This quest is for THE ONE who knows there isn't very much quality out there. Just quantity. Someone who knows the game isn't loyal to one player, and knows how to quit on top. In the dating game, it can become a maze of people looking for people. Some of them want to use you, for any number of reasons (physical, financial, emotional). Conversely, some of them want to get used by you. There are actual male martyrs out there and they need a woman to exploit them. This justifies whatever Neanderthal concepts they have about the dance between women in men. It actually makes them feel important to be used. This is the person who brags in the form of complaints. It doesn't take a Rhodes Scholar to realize that EVERYBODY'S LOOKING FOR SOMETHING. As a matter of fact, I think the Eurythmics said it in 1984.

M is for the MANY things she gave me...

Is it just me, or are most women the polar opposite of their mothers (especially when it comes to men)? Please don't misunderstand, I'LL ALWAYS LOVE MY MOMMA, SHE'S MY FAVORITE GIRL, but when I really think about it, I'm not so sure that if we weren't related,we'd be GIRLZ. It was my mother, passive as she is and was, who raised me to be so straight forward. My mother, humble and selfless, who taught me to get mine first and love me!! She also taught me to put no man before myself, yet she dedicates her life to her husband. I have inherited some of her habits, I am a consumate workaholic. I LOVE TO SHOP, appreciate a good football game with a beer and my nails must be done at all times. For the most part, however, she raised me to be everything she is not. Growing up, my father ruled his domain, and my mother often seemed to have a secondary role in the home. Almost servant status. The happiness of others always came before her own. This really motivated me to be my own woman and run my own show.

My mother isn't the kind of person I see myself having a drink with. Sure, we have hit the sports bar and caught a game or two. Sports is the great equalizer in our home. Sports has so many life lessons, she would tell me. Still, we don't have those things in common that girlfriends have: I'm divorced. She is still married. In mixed company, she will withhold her opinion. Everyone has a right to mine. I go where I want to go and do what I want to do. She waits for suggestions from my father. This woman has a PhD! I don't.

At the ripe old age of 38, My mother was married with 3 children (a 12 year old, a 10 year old and a 3 year old). Infact, she had lost a child to a terrible accident by the time she was my age. I have no children. I can't imagine what it would be like to be responsible for a growing family in the manner she was back then. It was the early 80's and she had so much to deal with. Discrimination at work. Raising children. Caring for her aging parents. Dealing with my daddy (who has never been known for being easy to get along with). Her weekends were not her own. Nothing was her own. In contrast, I alone am the queen of all I survey. I have a job I love, leisure time that involves frequent flier miles to send me to the moon, and an active social life. We are having two different lives and in many ways, I believe my mother has raised me to be the woman she wanted to be. Single footloose and fancyfree 30 somethings must have been appealing to my mother when she was strappped down with kids and a husband. She has often told me of a woman she saw in the airport who seemed to just have everything together. She was tall, slender, well dressed. I think she even drove a convertible. Her eyes woud drift as she told me of the nice handbag and pretty jewelry the woman had. At the end of the story, though she made some off-handed comment about the woman being a lesbian or having no man (which is the kiss of death for the women in my family). I think she said something to the effect of "women like that look perfect on the outside, have nothing on the inside and no one to go home to." Tell me about it!!!

I don't overidentify with the woman in the airport story, but I do enjoy the life I am living. I consider myself the total package and I am not empty on the inside. I just wonder if my mother really comprehended that this lifestyle makes it quite difficult to form lasting relationships (can you say Oprah). It's easy for the wallflower to criticize the one who dances the night away. She isn't really expending any energy. We could all sit on the sidelines, but it was my mother who taught me that LIFE IS NOT A SPECTATOR SPORT! Let the games begin.

The Gambler

You gotta know when to hold em. Know when to fold em. Know when to
walk away, and know when to run.

I ran into them this week. You know the one you should not have done and the one you wish you had??? Yeah, both of them, well sort of. Once upon a time, when I was at my low point of my newly minted but secret single life, I met a man who, allowed me to hide from myself in his web. He was the physical embodiment of everything I wanted and nothing I needed. Part of his appeal was he was just so mentally stimulating. He had the kind of intellect and magnetism that kept me guessing. He made me feel like a 16 year old all gushy and insecure. Fastforward to now, I have finally gotten my feet underneath me, firmly planted and I have returned to a confidence level that an adult woman should have...Then I bumped into him, literally. I wasn't looking. I never saw him, but he saw me. It was a collision I could not have been more unprepared for of he were driving a Mac Truck. He looked and smelled just as sinful as ever and for a split second, I felt it. The weaknesses and insecurities I had exorcised were hovering over me like something from a Harry Potter movie. I gave him my best poker face and walked away with my dignity in tact.
And then there was the one that got away. See back in my newly single days. I was living a big old LIE. No one knew I was single, so when the brother of a former co-worker and I became friendly, I had no idea he'd be so...PERFECT. Oh well, nothing I could do. See I was too busy concealing my hand. I just knew I'd look like the biggest fraud if I came out, afterward and let him know 1. I was attracted to him and 2. I wasn't really married. Then when I did eventually come out of the closet, he was engaged and then married. I made peace with this loss and chalked it to the game. Well who did I run into this week? NO I couldn't be that lucky. It was his sister and she was sharing with me that he was now divorced. Well, I made no attempt to disguise my feelings. I let her know in that conversation that I needed her to get a message to her brother to call me. I am still waiting by the phone ladies, without regret. See if he doesn't call me, it doesn't really matter. It is more about me making myself available and putting myself out there (once again). For once I didn't pretend to be so cool. I didn't act as if it didn't matter to me. I just went for it and whatever comes of it, I did my best. I am going to do this dating thing. I am going to enjoy it and I am going to get out of it what I put into it. I hope you are going to do the same.

If you think you're lonely now, wait until tonight

"When skeletons come out of the closet and chase you all around the room.
When LOVE walks out and PAIN walks in to settle for a stay"

Bobby Womack could not have articulated my week any better and if telling and retelling my story makes me the last woman to experience this, then this page will really be worth it. I mean afterall, aren't there enough blogs worthy of cnn and frustrated politcal views?? We can all see what's going on in the world thanks to round the clock media coverage and the ticker that has the entire world captivated. Looking for sports, nasdaq, thelatest on Martha Stewart? See the ticker. There is probably one going across the bottom of your computer at this very moment. When a woman goes through her own September 11th, though, there is no CNN. Where was Christian Amonpour when my husband walked out on me?? Oprah? Larry King?? Not a soul, but I felt like the whole world could see it. There is a line in a Paul Simon song that goes "Losing love is like a window in your heart. Everybody sees you're blown apart. Everybody sees the wind blow." That's really what it was like. Osama didn't have nothing to do with it. I was a victim of emotional terrorism and I had to rebuild my own trade center. I had to clean up the ashes and I had to go on. I know corny, but believe me when I tell you, very true. Everyday has become easier. Every sad moment has been sprinkled over with sugar and humor. And surviving is the best revenge. Remember how after the towers were destroyed BROADWAY was illuminated and New Yorkers were challenged to resume life to "stick it to the terrorists?" It was supposed to be the AMERICAN WAY. To show them that our lives had not been hijacked by fear. Well that's just what I am doing. I am going to date. I am going to really fall in love with someone and I am going to continue to be happy. I am going to stick it to the terrorists. You know why?? Because terrorism is a mental thing. We all have the capacity to be our own enemies. WE can choose to live in fear. WE have made all these stupid rules at the airport to perpetuate the sense of fear. And WE can decide to go on.

If you are able to stand yourself up and dust yourself off, then you are able to go on. Life really is meant to be lived to the fullest and when you realize that you have been spared so many real pains, the pain of heartache doesn't seem so bad. See, my former husband never beat me. He wasn't particularly mean. Not abusive. He paid all the bills on time and took very good care of me. In the scheme of things, I got off easy. I know many of you can say the same. Yes there were days I wanted him to die, but in hindsight, I refocused and realized that my desire to live was stronger than my desire to see him dead. As morbid as it may sound, it is what has kept me sane. I mean think about it, we have no idea if Osama is dead, because he is very alive in our minds. When you stop focusing on him, and start focusing on yourself, you will notice one crucial point : HE MISSED!!! Get a good look...