Advice

Monday Notes: Practicing What I Preach: Time Boundaries

~ kegarland ~ 66 Comments

My cousin called me a total of six times the day before my birthday and on the actual day, even though I texted that I would call him back later.

The same cousin typically speaks to his mother, once a day. But for five days, she was with me. This time, he was not only calling to see how she was faring on vacation, but also to inquire about me and why I wasn’t answering the phone, during dinner…in Aruba…every day. As a result, she tried to coax me to speak with him. One time, she said she would call and pass me the phone.

So, I told her, “I know how to use the cellphone, Auntie. I’ll call him later, like I already said.”

Another time, she tried to cajole me into answering by saying that “Someone very special, who you used to cut up with, wants to talk to you very badly,” while we were in process of hailing a cab to ride to downtown Aruba.

The same cousin asked his brother, who was with us on the island, if I was angry with him. I assured his brother I was not, that I was having an amazing time doing all of the things. Then, I dipped my blue tortilla chip into a ramekin of guacamole, enjoyed my appetizer, and cackled with my daughters and good friend.

My cousin called me again, and I ignored it.

After we sat down for my birthday dinner, at a beachside restaurant, where the sun lowered into oblivion, my aunt asked if I was going to call my cousin. That’s when I gave this speech:

“I am not angry. I am fine. I have chosen to pay attention to the 11 people who are in front of me today, to the people who spent lots of money to be with me. I think it’s important to do that. It took a lot of time and energy for everyone to be sitting here. I don’t think I should spend it talking on the cellphone to people who are not here. This is called a boundary, and I want to explain this to you before I have another drink when it won’t sound this nice.”

She laughed and said she understood.

The following day, I called my cousin. He was alive and well; his life did not implode because he couldn’t speak with me when he wanted to; neither did mine.

The example I’ve provided is called a time boundary. This year, I decided how I was going to spend my time on my birthday. Although I always appreciate the outpouring of well-wishes, I wasn’t going to be responding to texts and talking on the phone all day. I replied to most people late that night. Others, the next day. But here’s what this interaction reinforced:

  • Experts suggest you explain a boundary before enacting it. Maybe. A lot of examples I’ve seen require some lengthy speech with consequences. I don’t have the bandwidth for that right now. My cousin didn’t have to know what or why. His job was simple. Wait for me to call. However, my aunt was going to continue ignoring what I said, so I had to explain.
  • People don’t have to agree with your boundaries for you to create and enforce them. Obviously, my cousin had another agenda he thought I should follow. That’s fine. Other people’s agendas don’t negate what you choose for yourself.
  • People will try and manipulate you to do what they want. That’s their issue, not yours.
  • It is your responsibility to stick to the boundary. Had I answered the phone, I would have been sending a message to my cousin, his brother, and his mother that I was not serious about what I decided. Furthermore, it would have set the stage for future interactions.
  • You are obliged to enforce the boundary. That can look like re-stating what you already said or explaining (see bullet one).

Good luck boundary setting, good people! Please feel free to add more helpful suggestions about boundaries in the comments.

Turning 50: Do What You Want

~ kegarland ~ 117 Comments

Today is my birthday, and I am in Aruba.

I have awakened to the sounds of the Caribbean and the smell of the sea for two days. I will rinse and repeat for two more. I don’t think I have to describe it, but just in case: the Caribbean is different than the Atlantic Ocean. It is quiet, unassuming, yet powerful. Every now and then, waves remind you that you are not in control. Sea salt has wafted past my nostrils ever so softly, calming my parasympathetic nervous system and relaxing my body. The sand is fine and white. Nothing compares to the serenity of the sea, and the Caribbean on the Aruba side has not disappointed. I am here because I want to be.

Invitations were carefully crafted. In the past, I wasn’t deliberate about who surrounded me. Haphazard invites led to being in the company of people who didn’t always have my best interest at heart. Sometimes, they arrived because it was a good business opportunity; other times, family were there simply because they were…family. But no more. This year, I focused on my body’s response to hearing folks’ names. Only warm and fuzzies were desired, not people bound by obligation. I invited who I wanted. Those who had the time, money, and energy arrived because they wanted to. They are here because I wanted them to be and because they could be.

Activities were tailored to my wants. Multiple years out of the country with my husband have taught me what I can and cannot tolerate. This is not the trip for countless guided tours, where someone drones on about how their country chose to colonize indigenous people. Nope. I will have none of that. Yesterday, we enjoyed meals and champagne on a catamaran. We donned lifejackets and flippers and waded in water clear enough to see striped zebrafish. Tonight, we will dine on the beach, and I hope there will be a resounding Happy Birthday song. Tomorrow, we will parasail. I have been doing what I want to do, and those who wanted to join me have as well.

Some people may read this and think that I’m being selfish. You will hear no arguments from me. Perhaps, I am. But so, what? “Selfish” has gotten a bad rep, lately. I’m here to announce that it is okay to do what you want to do, as much as you possibly can.

We were not born to toil for employers; we were not born to be in committed relationships, where we constantly acquiesce to someone else’s needs; we were not put here to procreate and then be at our children’s beck and call. Well, I wasn’t. I know this is a common theme of mine, but I wholeheartedly, in my bones, feel this. It is okay to do what you want to do, as much as you possibly can.

So, on my 50th birthday, the fifth thing I’d like to share is that you are always allowed to do what you want to do, even if others disagree. I’m also leaving you with a song that my favorite DJ plays, aptly called “Free.” You can read about the history of the making of the song here, or listen below. Either way, I hope I have affirmed your deep desires. I hope you take heed.

I’ve turned 50, and I’ve processed and documented it here. Being on the earth for half a century, interacting with people, has taught me a few things, and I’ve shared them, but I have one more lesson. Be sure to come back and read what it is in June.

Turning 50 Series:

Turning 50: Don’t Be so Binary

~ kegarland ~ 36 Comments

One of the best lessons to come from the non-binary gender conversation is simply this: don’t be so binary.

The self-love movement is a great example of what I’m saying. Initially, self-love was a women’s issue that was based on taking time for oneself, which may have included pedicures, salon visits, and spa days. Then, another school of thought came along, which basically said, self-love isn’t about pedicures and spa days. It’s about going to the doctor, seeking therapy, and getting in touch with yourself. There was a huge pendulum shift that didn’t seem to allow for two things to co-exist. Why can’t self-love be both? I mean, it’s about love of self, which could be as varied as we are. What I think loving myself looks like may not be what you think.

Nothing is black and white, but we’ve made everything black and white.

I once read an example where someone used the bible to explain non-binary gender and its terms. What follows is a loose interpretation, with no citation, because I can’t find it, so here goes: This person had described how even though the bible says that God created the sun and the moon, we know that’s not all that exists when we talk about the sun and the moon. We’ve experienced sunrises and sunsets, both of which illustrate the “sun.” We’ve seen half-moons, full moons, and as I’ve shown on this blog, waxing gibbous, which are different moon phases, yet each of these is the moon. They are just variations of perception.

Two things can exist at the same time, but conversations steer us to only choose one.

My friend, Dr DB sent this IG meme to me: If EVERYONE needs therapy, then the problems EVERYONE is dealing with are systemic, cultural…too big to be confronted alone between two people. It’s actually a grave injustice to make individuals responsible for this.

My first thought was maybe. While it’s true that we are a part of a few overwhelming systems that require us to live against our nature, I fear that messages like the above will make people stop working on themselves because it seems pointless. Systems are phkd up, but so is running around with unresolved trauma and unhealthy behaviors, which impact your inner self, inner circle, and society as a whole. In Rest is Resistance, Tricia Hersey suggested that “we can craft a life outside of toxic systems,” and I agree. Hersey’s manifesto requires everyone to heal on an individual level, in order to effect life on a societal level. Therein lies the nuance between binary schools of thought, right?

There’s nuance in everything, even people.

I’ve experienced people seeing me as one thing, based on who I’ve shown myself to be: I’ve been characterized as rude, mean, intelligent, and brave. Those who see me as rude and mean have stuck with that; it doesn’t matter what I do outside of those markers, that’s who I am to them. Those who believe me to be intelligent listen to what I say, sans critical thought. For them, I don’t have to qualify anything because their minds are made up. See how binary thinking can also cause you to miss out on someone’s whole self? Separately, neither of things define me; however, I’ve been all of them…at some point or another.

When we choose to make something black or white, we are literally denying nuances. We are saying to one another that an experience can only be this or that, that a person can only be one thing. And that’s not reality.

So, that’s the fourth major thing I want to share. Nothing is binary. Everything is shaded, even ourselves as human beings. I get it. Believing things are cut and dry makes life easier, right? Life seemed simple when there were just “men” and “women.” There was nothing to figure out. But ignoring subtleties is not reality. Reality will always be found in that gray area, and depending on what we’re talking about, it can be as beautiful as a sunrise, or as messy as healing in a toxic world.

Postscript: I am not entertaining vile conversations about the LGBTIQ community, transgender surgeries, or anything in between in the comments. I’ve only used the term non-binary as an example for this write-up.

I’m turning 50 on May 23rd, and I’m processing and documenting it here. Being on the earth for half a century, interacting with people, has taught me a few things, and I’ll be sharing them with you through June. Here are the first three:

Monday Notes: 4 Similarities Between Physical Therapy and Mental Therapy

~ kegarland ~ 54 Comments

These days, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about all of the things, and one thing I’ve noticed is how similar physical and mental therapy are.

#1: Physical and emotional wounds require some type of healing.

This may seem like a ‘no, duh’ statement, but it really dawned on me during the last three months. If I told ya’ll I had no intention on going through physical therapy, you’d think I’d lost my mind. You’d google all of the information and comment or email me reasons why this was a bad decision. However, what do we do when folks are walking around in emotional pain? We offer toxic positivity, or we ignore their emotions. What we rarely do is say, hey, maybe you should try to heal that, so you can be whole again, so you can stop ruminating about the time that person did that thing. Like a physical wound, emotional wounds also require healing.

#2: Just because you feel better, doesn’t mean you’re healed; it just means you’re on your way.

Two weeks after surgery, I was doing so well, the doctor gave me some at-home exercises usually suggested for later. I felt a lot better and resumed my regular typing schedule. But my shoulder was fatigued and started to throb. I was able to swing my arm in a circle and do table slides, but typing all day was too much. I was still wounded. Emotional wounds are similar. We start doing self or professional therapy after a divorce (for example), and we think we’re ready to swipe left or right. The reality is there’s probably more healing to do, especially if for some reason, everyone you date reminds you of your ex.

#3: Just because you’re healed, doesn’t mean you should return to business as usual. In fact, you may need to develop some new habits altogether.

There is nothing I want more than to walk into a hot, steamy room, with a strong bass line playing in the background, while I perform beautiful āsanas. I miss Bhakti yoga. But I know it is not time. This is a little different than #2. Although I can return to yoga, I do not need to return the yoga I was doing before…not yet anyway. I have to do something different, something I used to think was boooring—restorative. Mental therapy is similar. For example, maybe your healing requires you to stop drinking alcohol. If that’s the case, it’s probably not a great idea to go back to that group you used to do shots with. This seems like common sense, but it’s not always. A lot of times, we want to return to the scene, but we’ve changed, and the scene has not. The scene is the scene.

#4: If you’re not careful, physical and emotional wounds risk re-injury.

The sling I was in served as a physical reminder that I was injured. The sling prevented me from using my hand or reaching too far. Once the sling was off, there was nothing stopping me. The first thing the physical therapist told me was to be careful of thinking I was fully healed. I still shouldn’t have reached for anything; otherwise, I could risk re-injury, and if that happened, I’d begin back at week seven. Mental therapy is a part of a healing journey, but there is no big black sling reminding you of your emotional wound. Oftentimes, the reminder comes in the form of people or experiences, like that family member who hasn’t grown or that place where the trauma occurred. If you’re not prepared, re-injury comes in the form of triggers. Suddenly, there’s a familiar smell that takes you back to being hurt. Just like a physical wound, you must be careful; you’re the only one who can protect yourself from being re-injured. Whatever those measures may be, you’re the one responsible for avoiding emotional pain.

I could only think of four of these, but if you have more, please share. I strongly believe we can help one another do better.

Turning 50: Life is a Social Construct

~ kegarland ~ 94 Comments

Life is a social construct—marriage, raising kids, traveling, gender roles, and more—all of it is made up. And guess what that means? Anything that is constructed, can be deconstructed: it can be torn apart and reconstructed.

In my observations, though, it seems that we are rarely taught this. Instead, we are born into a set of social rules, shamed if we think about them otherwise, and then pushed back into what are portrayed as cemented ways of being. But this isn’t reality. Reality is we can make up life anyway we desire. Re-constructing life requires choosing a social construct, thinking about what you actually value, unlearning the social construct, and then re-creating life based on your values, instead of those you were born into.

This is no easy feat, but it is possible. Here’s how:

CHOOSE A SOCIAL CONSTRUCT: Celebrating Christmas.

When I was growing up, my grandmother had one rule about holidays. She said her children and grandchild could spend any holiday wherever they wanted, but Christmas was for her. That was feasible enough when I was nearby. But what happened when my family and I moved a thousand miles south? Nothing. Nothing changed. Dwight and I packed up our children, bought winter clothes, packed gifts, and eventually our dog, and we drove every other year to have the Christmas my grandmother desired.

THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU VALUE: Family time.

We did this for 17 years, until I thought about why I was doing it. One reason was because that’s what you do for the holidays…spend it with family. That’s what Hallmark says. That’s what commercials and Christmas movies show, and that’s what my grandmother had decreed. Another reason I spent my holiday on the road was because when I asked my grandmother if she would come to Florida for Christmas, she said I was being inconsiderate. Everyone in Chicago couldn’t come to my house, so I shouldn’t expect such a ridiculous thought.

UNLEARN THE SOCIAL CONSTRUCT AND RE-CREATE LIFE BASED ON YOUR VALUES.

So, I never asked again, but that 17th year, I decided I wasn’t driving there for Christmas until I felt like it. I decided to re-construct what Christmas meant for me. It didn’t mean driving up-and-down the interstate to appease others, while I grew ragged and overwhelmed. It meant creating new traditions with my family in our space. It was not easy. For the first few years, everyone in my family asked when I was coming home. No one ever asked when they could visit my family and me for a holiday. But that’s how social constructs work. When you break them, those steeped in the construct will try and push you back into the norm. However, it didn’t work. My family and I have celebrated at our home for a while now, and I feel much better because we have developed our own traditions, and as our daughters age, they will, too.

So, there’s a family example, but what happens when it’s a place that provides us with income, like work? Trust me, you can also re-create in your career.

When I began my current job, I received several pieces of advice. One person told me I should make my social media account private.

“How am I going to be a public writer, with a private social media?” I asked.

She didn’t have an answer, so I ignored this advice.

Another person told me I shouldn’t speak out about injustices, until I was tenured and had the security with which to do so.

That sounded hella silly, too, especially because I live with a keen awareness that we can die at any moment. I ignored this and published two essays in well-known anthologies about the ill feelings I had about being an affirmative-action hire in academia.

I almost talked myself out of starting this blog, due to the content. I wasn’t sure if my job would be jeopardized because I chose to write about the impact that childhood and adolescent trauma had on my adult life.

I ignored my own fears and so far, I’m still employed.

There are other lesser-known things that I’ve done, such as not being bogged down with what the education field likes to call “service” or attending superfluous meetings, simply to talk about things that could’ve been an email or digital presentation. Part of the reason I’ve been able to function this way is because I have a terminal degree in my field, and I’ve been in education for nearly three decades. I know the manipulative forces that are at play, and I know how to navigate them.

But the fact remains that even how a job is performed is a social construct that can be deconstructed and reconstructed, if only we’d think about what we value and how we can align that with the institution or company. I care about being an effective educator, so does my job. Everything else is negotiable.

Let me reiterate this point: Everything social is made up! And if you have the desire to deconstruct what you’ve learned, in hopes of re-creating something you value, then it can be done. You just have to make up your mind to do it.

I’m turning 50 on May 23rd, and I’m processing and documenting it here. Being on the earth for half a century, interacting with people, has taught me a few things, and I’ll be sharing them with you through June. Here are the first two:

Turning 50: Advice I’m No Longer Taking

Turning 50: The Relationship You Have with Yourself Matters Most

Turning 50: The Relationship You Have with Yourself Matters Most

~ kegarland ~ 75 Comments

Do you like yourself? Do you love yourself? Do you accept yourself as is? I hope so, because just like any relationship, liking, loving, and accepting yourself are foundational for developing a relationship with yourself. If you’re having issues with either of these three, there are plenty of self-help books, gurus, and of course, therapists, who can lead the way. I suggest starting there, before reading about my version of developing a relationship with yourself:

Years ago, I wrote a book called The Unhappy Wife. In it, I’d interviewed 12 women, one being myself. As I listened to each woman’s story, it became clear to me that we didn’t love ourselves. It was also apparent that we were detached from our bodies and emotions, and subsequently…ourselves. Yet we had bent over backwards in immeasurable ways to figure out how to be in relationship with men. I remember wondering what it would look like to give yourself as much attention as you did another human being? What would it be like to pour into a relationship with yourself? I think this is important, because withstanding mental illness, no one can really care about you more than you care for yourself.

So, that’s what I did.

One year, I began a self-love campaign. I asked 30 women, who I knew personally, what it meant to love yourself. I’m not going to debate about if pedicures or therapy is the “real” self-love approach, because guess what? There is no argument. For some women, it will be imperative to go to the spa. For others, it will be important to schedule a breast exam. And some may just need to sit down somewhere and be quiet, without distraction. We have to stop being so binary about this. All it does is cloud and confuse the overarching issue, which is simple: Cultivate a relationship with yourself that matters to you.

Another year, I thought about what I’d do if I was dating someone. What would that look like? I would want to find out what that person liked and disliked to see if we vibe or not. I’m married, so on some level, the point was moot, but I decided to change “someone” to me. I began trying different activities. We may think we know what we like, but a lot of times it’s based on tradition and repetition. It’s easy to get into a rut and believe that you only like to watch Netflix on Sundays from 12p-12a; however, there are other things you may enjoy that you haven’t even entertained.

Here are a few other ways to develop a relationship with yourself:

  • Go somewhere by yourself! This isn’t just about “dating yourself,” which is a thing. This is more like thinking about if someone said they wanted to take you on a date, where would you tell them to take you? Now, do it for yourself. Try that new restaurant. Go on a day trip. Take yourself on a picnic. Whatever you can conjure up is what you should do, without any qualms or fears. One time, I took myself on a weekend trip to Panama City Beach. I had a blast…all…by…my…self.
  • Write a list of 10 things you’d do if you had time, space, or money. Now, choose one, and find the time, space, or money. To get to know who you are today, in this moment, you have to be intentional. You think you don’t have time, space, or money, but that’s probably not true. For example, I was invited to a two-hour networking event. When the day came, I felt as if I didn’t have the time. The reality was I didn’t want to make the time. That Saturday, instead of reading or writing blogs, I attended the event, and it was beneficial.
  • Check your city’s Groupon list. One way to learn what you may or may not like to do is to check Groupon. A couple Christmases ago, I saw an offer for viewing Christmas lights in St. Augustine, which is about 20 minutes from me. In that city, vacationers ride on a trolley, with strings of lights, while singing Christmas carols! That sounded really cool to me. Full disclosure…I didn’t do that activity, but my husband planned something similar for us on a small boat around the same city. Remember, learning what you like to do doesn’t always mean you have to do it alone, just that you honor the idea.

Finally, I know I’ve emphasized the importance of women doing this. That’s because I’m a woman, and I know sometimes, women end up acquiescing to other people’s whims, leaving us in a whirlwind of resentment of the consequences of our unconscious choices. However, no matter our gender, we should all learn to develop a relationship with ourselves, because it’s the most important relationship we’ll ever have.

I’m turning 50 on May 23rd, and in true kegarland form, I need to process and document it. Being on the earth for half a century, interacting with people, has taught me a few things, and I’ll be sharing them with you through June. Here is the first one:

Turning 50: Advice I’m no Longer Taking

Monday Notes: AI

~ kegarland ~ 76 Comments

Recently, I used Lensa to generate some artificial intelligence (AI) photos. I’d seen a couple of celebrities do it and thought why not?

So, I uploaded 15 photos, and two hours later these appeared.

They’re beautiful, right? I was amazed. It was mystifying to see how the app captured my spirit. How these photos look is how I feel on the inside. I perceive myself as a powerful being who can do anything to which I set my mind, and these computer-generated images illustrated it.

That’s scary.

I was so amazed with these photos that I almost cancelled my photoshoot. Why do I need to pay someone hundreds of dollars if AI can create a perfect looking me? I wondered. Don’t worry. I didn’t cancel. But I did consider it.

“These are stunning,” a blogger friend commented after seeing this set in my IG stories. “Did you have someone commission them for you?”

This person, who I admire as an intelligent being thought an artist had drawn these, that I’d paid thousands of dollars to have someone draw these! That’s how perfect they appear.

That’s scary, and I think we need to be more aware of what AI can do and how it will change our lives.

For example, I read an article on The Atlantic about ChatGPT, a type of AI that not only writes essays, but also synthesizes information. That first part isn’t a big deal. That last part…is the beginning of the end for a lot of things, namely, English teachers and the types of assignments they create. The author interviewed Derek Thompson, another staff writer, about ChatGPT.  

Thompson explained how life changing this app is, and as a former English teacher, I agree with his points. In the past, it was obvious when a student plagiarized essays. There were tells, like using a larger vocabulary or writing phrases that didn’t sound like them; the tone was off. Well, ChatGPT mirrors the person’s writing style, which thus far has been challenging for other programs.

As an editor, this part is a bit scary, too. Will my business be threatened because scholars can upload their work to ChatGPT, which will write a flawless thesis that sounds just like them? Maybe not today, but eventually in the near future, I’m confident in the possibilities.

So, here’s my concern. We’ve gotten ourselves into a bit of pickle over the past century or so because we innovate, without considering the unintended consequences of technology. For example, computers make things a lot easier, but many Americans are more sedentary due to sitting for long periods of time. Social media is a tool used for connection, but depending on how you use it, you may feel less connected to friends and family.

As a member of Gen X, I’ve watched technology evolve, and I understand how an initial fascination with these types of things can leave us awe-struck. In the past, all we had were sci-fi novels to warn us about some futuristic made-up consequence. Now, though, we have wisdom and experience. We don’t have to wait for the next George Orwell or Octavia Butler to warn us about the ills of fake, dystopian societies. We can see what’s happening in real time. Because we can see what’s happening, we can change what’s happening. We can do something now, even if it’s as small as weighing the possibilities and considering ethics. AI creators don’t have to be in control; we can be in control.

Here’s one last story. One of my former colleagues used ChatGPT to create a course syllabus as a test, just to see what would happen. Guess what? It was perfect. She shared on social media how the app developed an ideal syllabus for a young adult literature class, with a course objective, appropriate readings, and assignments with a grading scale.

That’s nutz, and I think we should all be a bit worried about how our futures could look if we allow AI to take the wheel.

Turning 50: Advice I’m No Longer Taking

~ kegarland ~ 113 Comments

I’m turning 50 on May 23rd, and in true kegarland form, I need to process and document it. Being on the earth for half a century, interacting with people, has taught me a few things, and I’ll be sharing them with you through June.

The first thing I’ve been thinking about is advice I was given in my youth.

When I was a child, my mother used to say, “It’s not what you say, it’s how you say it,” and I totally understand the sentiment behind the suggestion. If you want someone to listen to what you have to say, then you should maybe consider your tone and choice of words. When I’m writing, I do think about those things. And for about ten years, beginning in my 30s, I also tried very hard to take a beat before I opened my mouth to communicate.

But this didn’t serve me well. A lot of times, I ended up sugar-coating what I really wanted to say to appease the person and suppressing my tone and intent, which physically affected me. So, no more.

If I see that there is information that would benefit you because you may be headed down a difficult path (in my opinion), then I don’t worry about my tone or choice of words. I’ve learned that two things can happen: either the person will receive my message as intended, which is typically to be helpful, or they will focus on how I communicated, which leads to the use of negative adjectives (i.e., rude, mean, arrogant, know-it-all).

But at 50? I’m not worrying about that anymore.

In addition to my mother, my grandmother, who was born in 1926, used to also provide advice. Many times, she told me to simply talk about the weather in social situations, so as not to get into arguments with people. I mean, you can’t argue about if it’s raining or not. Again, I understand why this is. Most people at your job, at the grocery store, or in the parent pick-up line, don’t want to really hear about how you’re doing, even though they asked. We’ve become accustomed to using hello, how are you? as a greeting, as opposed to an expression of care.

But I want you to consider this: How hard would it be to answer honestly? You don’t have to tell someone your life story, but you could say something like, I’m having a rough day. And maybe we can learn to respond in kind. You don’t have to go into fix-it, therapist-mode. You could just say, I hope you feel better.

See how easy that is?

Another thing we could do is re-vision how we interact in situations that are supposed to be more intimate. If I spend hours driving to your home for a holiday, then I don’t want to talk about how awful your job is. I want to hear about why you’re at a job you hate, with a boss you dislike…after all these years. Again, I don’t want to fix it for you. I just want to discuss something that matters…to you, something that helps me to understand who you are as a person.

So, I’m leaning into engaging in more thoughtful ways with people. If I ever ask you how you’re doing, then I want to know. And if we’re spending time together, then I’m probably going to ask a deeper question that goes beyond surface-level descriptions. If you choose not to respond, then that’s fine, too. Everyone doesn’t have to be like me. I’ve lived long enough to know that my intent will always prevail, and as a result, bring likeminded individuals into my space so that we can commune.

Post-script: To be clear, I have no intention on spitting venom toward others, but I’m also not worrying about how I say things. Folks either get me or they won’t 😉

Monday Notes: I Don’t Want your Child (or Dog)!

~ kegarland ~ 61 Comments

I vibe with dogs and kids. That’s the way I’ve always been. If you have a dog and 24 hours, then we’ll probably be besties. The same applies if you have a child under 12. He, she, or they will be my best friend by the time I leave your home. I’ve accepted this about myself; however, those outside of my immediate circle don’t know this information, and thus, problems arise. Sometimes, people think I want their kid and dog, or at least that’s how they act.

When I visited my in-laws, my youngest niece attached herself to me as soon as I arrived. We’d never met, yet she stuck by my side and offered me a snaggle-tooth grin every time I looked her way. She followed me around the house and said she wanted to come home with me. She sat beside me at church and whispered jokes.

“Does anyone want to give their life to Christ?” the pastor asked.

“She does,” she shouted, pointing at me and trying to raise my hand.

“Oh yeaaaah?” the pastor’s eyes brightened.

“No. No,” I assured him, and then to my niece, “you trying to get me in trouble…at church???” I teased, giving her a side-eye.

She returned a gapped-tooth smile.

She insisted on sitting next to me at dinner, her mother on the opposite side of the table. “You like your Aunt Kathy?” she asked, through a tight grin.

When we returned home, she began calling me “Mama,” instead of Aunt Kathy.

“You don’t even know her name,” her father said, clearly bothered by her instant affinity.

I remained quiet as insecurity filled the air. Children don’t have to know your name. All they have to feel is safe and seen. It’s a vibe. I don’t want your child I wanted to holler. She’s clearly starving for attention. Instead, I lay on the couch and pretended to be sleepy, in hopes that she’d leave me alone and perhaps spare her parents the sound of her eight-year-old voice calling me mama.

The next day, she cried and hid under the table because she didn’t want me to leave.

Fast forward years later, and I met a three-year-old cousin, who hadn’t seen me since she was born. At first, she was shy, as many tots are, but eventually, after I began asking her questions, in Spanish and English, and wiping her runny nose, she warmed up, so did her parents’ ten-year-old dog.

Her parents and I went to a store, where I asked, “Do you like toys?”

Her head bobbed up and down.

“Good. Let’s go look at some,” I suggested. “You wanna go look at toys?” I asked with my hand outstretched.

More head bobbing.

“We’re gonna go look at toys,” I announced to her mother, and then she put her tiny hand in mine and we traipsed away toward Barbie and them.

We picked over Pepa the Pig trinkets and a box of Marvel bowling pins. “You like those?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said quietly.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“A skate…”

“Issa skateboard,” her mother said. “You know how to use a skateboard?” she had found us and decided she’d show her child around the toy aisle. As her mother showed her how to kick and push, I slowly slipped away because it started to feel a lot like my niece and her mother years ago. It felt like insecurity, as if she didn’t really want her daughter to be with or like me, even though she was and did.

I thought I was tripping, projecting even, until we returned to the house where the mother’s dog greeted me at the door as if we were old friends. He barked for me to pick him up, and feed him the attention he, too, craved and lacked since his doggy parents had had a baby and become mommy and daddy to a human.

He sat on my lap and we played a game where my fingers came close enough to his mouth for him to snap at them, but not really catch them. He barked and snarled and wagged his tail with happiness. Like the toy aisle, where she skated her way back into her child’s view, the mother made cute clicking noises to distract her pet from my lap and from the fun, but it didn’t work. Instead, he settled down right next to my thigh, licked my hand, and then fell into a deep sleep with a slight snore.

My cousin, the mother’s husband, laughed at the sight, and said, “You gotta new Mama now, huh,” while his wife looked on fuming.

Again, I wanted to yell, I don’t want your child (or your dog). I just don’t mind offering a little attention.

But of course, I didn’t say this. Again, I shied away from the dog and the child and made as little eye contact with both.

I hope you hear the empathy in between these narratives: I’m a mother, and I wouldn’t want one of my daughters calling someone else mother. I’ve owned a dog, and I wouldn’t want my dog sidling up to someone else as if he didn’t have an owner. However, I also understand children and dogs. They both need constant attention, something that is oftentimes impossible in today’s busy world. And if I happen to be around for a couple days, I’m happy to offer it.

At the same time, I understand the careful balance of human beingness that has to be in place. I’ll only indulge if everyone is comfortable in the situation, but sometimes, ego makes that impossible.

Monday Notes: “Where’s Waldo”

~ kegarland ~ 73 Comments

I call him “Where’s Waldo” because he wears a red and white striped shirt and blue pants. He’s an older man, who frequently walks around the neighborhood. During the summer months, he walks to the pool, strips down to his swimming trunks, and does several laps. I’ve watched him repeat this pattern several times from our community gym’s window.

Sometimes when it rains, and he cannot swim, he comes inside the gym. This is how we met.

“They should have another treadmill,” he once said, taking slow strides.

“I agree,” I replied, while using the elliptical. “I’ve told them that before.”

“I can only walk. And swim,” he added. “I have an injury, so I can only do those two things.”

“Maybe you can ride a bike?” I offered.

“I can only walk. And swim,” he repeated.

Before he left, he waved good-bye and bid me a good day. I did the same, and as is customary, I felt a little closer to him. I wished I would’ve asked him his name, so I could stop secretly calling him “Where’s Waldo.”

The next time I saw him was a few months later.

I drove to the fitness room, as usual. As usual, I sat my yoga mat next to the treadmill, wiped down the surface, and placed my phone, water bottle, and towel in each appropriate place. Then, I went back to my car to get my free weights.

That’s when I saw “Where’s Waldo.” He was either headed to the pool or headed to the gym.

“Good morning!” I said, happy to see him.

“Morning,” he mumbled.

Turns out, he was headed to the gym, because when I returned with my weights in hand, there he stood…on the treadmill.

“That’s my stuff,” I said, pointing to my belongings: the white towel, hanging on the equipment’s right arm, the water bottle in the cup holder, and my phone, sitting in front of him.

“Well, get it then,” he spat.

“Oh no,” I clarified. “I was about to use the treadmill. That’s why my stuff is here. I just had to get my other things.”

“Well, I’m here now,” he said.

For a moment, I thought he wasn’t for real. However, his wide-legged stance implied that not only was he not playing around, but he also wasn’t moving.

Though there were many thoughts rolling around in my head, they weren’t polite, and I’ve been working on being as kind in speech as possible.

“This is incredibly rude, you know.”

“So,” he replied.

I’m positive I resembled the wide-eyed emoji. I stood behind him…on the treadmill and retrieved my belongings, and I said, almost in his ear, “I hope you have a good day.”

“You, too,” he said, with a laugh.

Then, I practiced what I knew to do, so I wouldn’t let this man’s behavior dictate my morning:

Grounding: For those of us who ruminate, it can be quite easy to keep going over a situation, until it culminates into a bunch of “what-ifs” and “I should’ves.” That’s not helpful. For us, it’s important to ground ourselves in the present moment. So, I called my husband and told him the entire story. I didn’t need validation that I was right, but rather, I needed a way to release the narrative, so it wouldn’t fill my head. Talking to Dwight for five minutes helped.

Exercising: I was red with anger at this man’s behavior and my helplessness in the situation. I almost went home. But then I remembered, exercising helps move energy around and out of the body. I was actually in the perfect place to be angry. I stayed in the fitness room, and worked out in a different order. He left after 20 minutes, and I was able to use the treadmill at the end of my routine.

Ignoring: In the past, I would’ve placed my phone call to Dwight inside the gym, so the guy could hear the conversation. That’s called being passive-aggressive, and I’ve worked extremely hard to not embody this trait anymore. Long ago, I also would’ve stared the man down, which probably wouldn’t have ended well. Instead, I set up my equipment so that my back would be to him. I needed to work out, but I didn’t need to look at him. Our interaction had ended.

Like I’ve said before, we’re living in some weird times. You never know what folks are going through, and it’s important to reman level-headed. People seem to be on edge, which is understandable. But it’s important to remember that we can only control ourselves. I couldn’t make the man get off the treadmill, but I could control how I reacted in the situation, which prevented things from escalating.

Be safe out there. People are unstable, and sometimes peace relies on you.