Belief

 Joshua 1:9

Have I not commanded you to be strong and courageous? Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go.”

Bonds

 It's impressive that the generation of my children have made the effort to know something about psychology, which is a considerable improvement from my generation where we just got on with life as best we could, clueless about matters such as trauma, and attachment theory, and feelings.

I was with my daughter this week and she told me the story of her close friend who I know well. She's a beautiful girl, very good hearted and kind, a primary school teacher, but she has run into one man after the other with issues.  We thought she may have finally found Mr Right recently, but it turns out not to be the case.

He is a divorced man with two children and to his credit he told K when they first started dating that he needed a good deal of space. She was prepared to work with that until it became obvious that he was avoidant, even to the point of making criticisms of her body that would make any girl think twice about his desire to be in the relationship at all.

These days, K has boundaries and can see red flags and after giving it her best for six months she called the relationship off. She has learned to be happy single rather than unhappy in an unsuitable union. She had little difficulty in letting go, a far cry this time from the 'on and off' relationship she was in a for a few years with a very controlling partner.

There's a silver lining in disappointment in that those situations provide an opportunity to tap into strengths, I am reminded of the novel 'The Women' about an American nurse who went to Vietnam, found herself  after the war let down by the man she loved, but this pushed her to find meaning in her life in a different way; everlasting friendship with women friends, and even a new, much stronger relationship with her parents. No. she didn't have the children she would have cherished but she did find purpose and satisfaction in a different way.

I am an old-fashioned girl who is never happier deeply and securely bonded to an attachment figure - thus the attraction of a D/s dynamic, but I can see there are other ways to live quite satisfactorily.

Dance steps

 One of my sons is a Counsellor. His speciality is children, but through study he has needed to become well versed in various theories. There are the usual suspects, such as Cognitive Behavior Therapy and Acceptance and Commitment Theory. More recently, came Emotion Focused Therapy, both for individuals and couples.

We chat about these topics. I have always been interested in what makes people tick. I found myself reading books and academic papers that took my fancy, and in that reading, I came to see that Sue Johnson of Canada, who created Emotion Focused Therapy, really did have it all figured out.

In a nutshell, she believed, as John Bowlby before her, that we are all, despite our differences, much the same. We are wired for connection and to bond with a few precious people. Our survival as mammals is dependent on that bonding and if that isn't secure, we tend to behave in fairly predictable ways. We either become demanding or we withdraw.

Therein lies the distancer-pursuer dance. It's a clumsy sort of dance that benefits no-one. It needs to come to a halt. New music needs to be chosen. A different sort of dance needs to be learned.

Maybe two years ago now, I was convinced by a relative stranger to try to retrieve a dynamic in my marriage that had, much to my chagrin, fizzled out. I was convinced by someone that I had been talking to, a therapist of sorts, that it was easy enough to reinvigorate that dynamic; that it could be done in no time. I wanted to believe that, and I went along with the plan. It turned out to be two of the most challenging years of my life. In hindsight, I should have trusted my gut.

It is extremely hard to go against the grain, to act in a way that is the opposite to how one has, reasonably satisfactorily, survived up to this point. These are reasonably automatic responses and need to be broken down. This will often require the assistance of a trusted and reliable therapist; one who will act as an attachment figure; the model of secure attachment. These automatic responses of ours are so ingrained and often lie below our awareness. I have a reasonable level of intelligence, but it has taken me a long time to bring instinctive reactions to the surface on my own, that is, without help.

Both my husband and I were brought up in a generation by parents who simply had no emotional attunement with their children. It was challenging for them to have anything but well behaved, compliant children, so neither of us learned how to express our emotions in an honest and attuned way. In fact, I would say, emotions equalled danger. 

I have come to realise that my husband has had no capacity to be with my emotions. I've spent the vast majority of our almost 50 years together in a, comparatively speaking, quiet and controlled state. If I bring to him a small amount of distress, that's okay, but anything more, dysregulates him. I recall now the many times I have said, 'I can't talk with you about my distress looking for soothing because what happens is I feel more distressed after we talk'. There was the clue.

There has been something about my being 'emotional' that has triggered in him, instinctively and beyond his ability to do anything about it, danger.

We made great inroads this week when I shared, quietly and calmly, the fact that his massive loss of weight is very difficult for me. I have a muscle memory of where my arms should go, my hands should go, what I will feel when my hands hold him in bed. 

To his great credit, he listened without reacting defensively, and he shared that he feared being rejected by me. 

It has felt for so long that I have a need to get closer and he has a need to withdraw more, whilst all the while we both crave the other's love.

I was sitting outside a Japanese restaurant during the week eating my miso soup and watching people go by. I watched men go in and out of the supermarket next door and a thought popped into my head. Where on earth would I ever find someone to replace my husband? Where would I ever find a suitable Owner? There is so vey much that is right about our union, except for this dumb pursuer-distancer dance.

Sharing our vulnerabilities, that's the first step in choosing new music; feeling into what we feel so that we can transform the feelings into something new and better.

Embracing difference

 One of the thoughts that used to come to mind often was that time mid-morning when one might make a cup of tea or coffee and have a time out. I would try to imagine all the other people doing something similar and that was a pleasant thought - all the people in their homes or out on the site or on the farm brewing themselves a cup of tea. I suppose, I was imagining that the brewing of tea, or coffee, created a connection, an imagined connection.

I have been thinking about the power of imagination lately. I suppose you could call it manifestation, although I don't often have that element of 'this will happen' in it. I simply use my imagination to take a little break from what is happening in front of me. I have always done this. I think another word might be disassociation, I might take myself out of a dull conversation for a few seconds and just think my own thoughts.

I delighted recently in a story Jimmy Fallon told about growing up knowing that he would be on Saturday Night Live. The interviewer asked him, 'what if it hadn't happened?'. He was emphatic. There was just no way it wouldn't have happened in some form, he said. There was no way he wouldn't have made it happen.

My husband said something similar last night over dinner. When he was young, he said, on the farm, he came to have this feeling that he would do something special out in the big world. He wasn't entirely sure quite what, although by the time he was ending his undergraduate degree, he knew it would involve world markets. When he achieved his dream, I think it was the happiest time of his life.

He is very unwell now, but he has this huge belief that he will get better, and seeing how he manifested his dream job, it's hard not to believe him, whilst at the same time, I said to him yesterday, 'Can you please let me take it one step at a time?'

We are very different in this way. I much prefer things to be steady. I like the day to day. I like morning tea. Like that. I like making dinner. I like meeting up with my adult children. I enjoy the beautiful morning sun we are experiencing this winter. I like it when the camelias bloom.

Well, of course, this was the attraction for me, wasn't it? The polar opposite of myself. The guy with adventure in his soul; the dream in his heart. Who else could take me out of myself in this way? Who else could challenge a degree of complacency in my being, the comfort in the day to day?

Man, at times it has been a struggle. My inner being wants to scream, can't things just be normal? But that's the thing, isn't it? What is normal anyway?

You know what though? I think I am at peace with the different perspectives now. I'm curious about it rather than discombobulated about it. I think after nearly 50 years, I am getting used to it.

It is what it is

 I would like to think that the sky is the limit; that two people can get so close that they can reveal themselves, perhaps not in entirety, but close enough.

We keep secrets from one another, don't we? We keep the secrets that we must. We shelter the other not just from parts of ourselves, but from parts of themselves. We understand that complete disclosure wouldn't be in anyone's interests.

What happened in childhood, the attachment issues that may have appeared back then, potentially even in the preverbal stage are enduring.  They leave marks on the psyche. It's territory that should be explored only with a well-trained therapist, not a partner, so sometimes one just adapts and makes allowance for, and compromises with a partner, in the overarching interests of what is.

I do believe that an attachment style is able to be adjusted; that is, that one can go from an insecure attachment style to one that is secure. I am testament to that.

I have taken a test a few times to ascertain my attachment style. It focused on asking me questions about my mother, my father and my husband. I came out as having a disorganized attachment style. In one case, I was said to be 'avoidant' with similar questions. But I noticed just yesterday when I was whiling away time awaiting the cooking of the vegetables that the test score revealed I was actually quite close to the category of secure if you took away the result of the attachment to my mother. It was the result of the relationship with my mother that had statistically reduced my overall score.

I suddenly realized how flawed this logic was. Sure, no doubt, I needed to look after myself as a child whilst, of course, wanting to be nurtured, but should that affect my functioning score now? So, I went elsewhere and immediately noticed that there were no questions about my parents - one dead for over 30 years and the other one at death's door - bur rather lots of questions about my thought patterns and daily patterns now. What do you know, I came out as Secure.

This was delightful news and signified buckets of growth. I have been feeling it, especially recently. It comes down to those few words - It is what it is. Acceptance.

It's really important, I believe, to have plenty of empathy for the people with insecure attachment. Sometimes they are obvious in their presentation but often they are not. Even well trained and highly experienced therapists need months if not years to figure them out, so it's not so much a job for us to figure them out, as it is to accept that there is some trauma there. 

Try your best to stay emotionally regulated yourself. Stay calm. Maintain appropriate boundaries for yourself. When you hit their brick (emotional) wall, and you will feel it when you do - recognize you have gone as far into that neck of the woods as you can today and let that expedition go. Only ever do what you can do without there being harm done. 

No matter what defences a person puts up, we are all fundamentally the same in that we all want to get close. Sometimes, people just don't know how. It just doesn't feel safe. You do what you can do. It's all we can do. There's peace in knowing that.

Flowing

 The last entry was Wednesday, a horrible day. I just read back on that entry which I had written first thing that day. I was motoring along as best I could when I got a call for permissions for my mother to go into palliative care at the nursery home - in other words, no heroics - and I found the double Dutch too much. I heard the word 'infection' which didn't jive with the word 'palliative'. It wasn't until the next morning - yesterday - when a nurse I knew well rang, and by then I was able to have the conversation, a perfectly orderly and reasonable conversation, and we were all on the same page.

It feels like I can have the thought 'just flow with it', that that thought is lodged in mind and body, and then so many minutes later, tears flow, and I am not so good at flowing. It's not in the plan, to fall apart, and then I do, which is what lead me to write now, again, first thing in the morning.

Wednesday was almost mad with the many things and thoughts I dealt with. I ended that day with my son wanting to talk about accepting a place at a college to end out his Masters. This means in so many weeks, he will formally move out of home, my last chicken. Of course, I said he should accept it, he has saved the money to do so, and it will be a good experience for him.

And then, he sort of had a meltdown, wondering what would happen to our dog who we had buried in the garden if I sold the house. I guaranteed him that if and when that time came, we would bury her remains in our garden by the sea. He clearly was feeling vulnerable too, and that was his expression of it. I made a mental note that as soon as possible we needed a dog in our lives. It's the first time we have been without a dog, and we need the commonsense of a dog. Dogs definitely flow.

It makes sense there's a certain amount of processing going on, for both of us. It's not since just before Covid, when all the boys of the family had a European holiday skiing the Alps (and thank God for that) that I have been alone in the house a good deal of the time. Is it some colliding of the stars that I fell two weeks ago and have been tending to a sore knee? Do things simply happen all at once for a reason, I wonder.

Today, we finally pick up my son's car - long story - but it's another reason, his borrowing of my car to get to work and university - that kept me in a contemplative state, a transitional state, a preparation state.

When there was the opportunity, I used to attend a Dharma Dialogues gathering. I am not so inclined now that it is online, it's just not the same for me. I recall Catherine, the host, say that we do this, sit silently and then talk when moved to do so, about life's big all-encompassing thoughts. We do this, she said, gathering strength, flexing the muscle, so that when things do fall apart, we are ready. 

I find myself noticing little things. I think one notices different things at times when they resonate with you. I heard Rachel Ward talk briefly about thinking that the farm they owned wasn't something she could involve herself in, until the kids had gone and it occurred to her, that she did in fact have a place there. It meant she had to learn from scratch, daunting but do-able.

And I heard my husband on a telephone call to me, about a subject he usually handles, say to me, 'you'll work it out'. That's not something he typically says.

It feels a bit like the material I am reading about 'attachment' and healing with attachment modalities. There's that psychoanalytic sort of approach, working with emotions, bringing them up, creating new meaning or strengths or outcomes or solutions that way. Then there is the practical approach, the solutions approach, maybe more the cognitive behaviour approach, addressing dissonant thoughts.

It's a beautiful thing, these new modalities, where the therapist is seen as the guide, to help the client see that all that was needed was actually already there inside the person. Maybe the material of the life story needed to be massaged a bit, like a 'trip' that might lead you to see that, as an example, the man you feared so much in your mind, as a boy, is now no threat to you. Your body can relax.

I wonder if, in a way, I've been doing my own therapy in the past two weeks, spending a lot of time alone, and gently guiding my mind to see things in a new way; gathering creative solutions and feeling into my natural strengths - growing.

I love watching 'Couples Therapy'. I watch it on SMS on Demand, but I think Americans watch it on Showtime?? Anyway, this couple in Season 4 jumped ship. She's a psychoanalyst herself, as bright as a button, but she just couldn't give her husband what he wanted, this elusive sense of 'home'. He was demanding that she come up with the solution, and she just couldn't engineer it. It seemed doomed to fail because it was like asking 'hand over the money' when the money simply didn't exist. Her frustration was palpable.

You have to bend. You have to look squarely at the cards you are dealt, and you have to play your hand with skill and quiet courage. You have to be ready for anything.

I close my eyes. I see the river and take inspiration. Here I go. I flow.

When things fall apart

 I am struck by this experience of accompanying someone in a dire prognosis. No doubt, for each person or couple the experience is unique to them. In my case, my husband has made no bucket lists but rather sees each new day as an opportunity to reach for a cure to his condition.

It's incredibly frustrating to both of us that a potential cure is not allowed in this country and we may in fact soon have to board a plane to purchase the no-harm medication elsewhere. I am no conspiracy theorist but there's no doubt that there is profit at the heart of such decisions to refuse access to potentially lifesaving medications currently inexpensive.

 I have been forced to look inside my own mind for a way forward, for a way to approach each day, navigating his approach and my own, one more centred in the facts before me. I have seen this positive thinking bear fruit and I have seen it become a failed harvest. 

I am reminded at just this very moment of the title of Pema Chodron's book, 'When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times'. I must order this book today for it seems timely.

There is no question that it is indeed a difficult time. I dreamt last night of being in war, of having to navigate around the enemy to be safe and I woke, needing to escape the dream. I lay there, aware of the reason for the dream. I was in a deeply vulnerable place.

I think when you are in a long marriage, especially when it began when you were still in your teens, the thought of losing that mate is so confronting, hiding in denial, or anger, or disbelief, seems far better an option than sitting in the facts of the matter. I have used this strategy for quite some time.

Who knows why or when one begins to let that outer shell of security go, but it has gone. My mind seems to be stuck in the moment. Will this be the last anniversary, will this be the last year. Every transaction, every 'good morning', every decision seems so poignant.

I once heard Blanche d'Apulget talk about her last year with Bob Hawke (a former Australian Prime Minister) and she said it was the best year of their lives because it had been so intimate. I am not sure that my husband will be so vulnerable in the last year of his life if it is to take time away from the task of staying longer. I am not sure he sees the value in that sort of approach, and I am not expecting it.

Rather, right now, it's an accompanying kind of task, and in many ways, my role is to provide comfort and support for him to do what he thinks he should do.

We both are not inclined to share distress or worry with our children, but my eldest son was in town last week and it was impossible to completely hide my state of mind from him. Goodbyes are never easy and he saw my tears as we said goodbye. It rattled him and he has been checking in on me as much as he can in his busy life. I noticed him say in one telephone call, 'It will be better when...' and of course that's not a bad thing to say. It was a rough day when I saw him, no doubt about it, a sort of rock bottom from which I have risen.

 I remember once much earlier this year say to a confidante that I felt "stuck". I don't feel stuck any more. I feel like I am truly living the days as best I can, not expecting too much of myself and at the same time not giving up or giving in.

My youngest son is here until he finishes his Masters degree in Counselling. He chats with me about the material in his course and it's the material on Attachment Theory I find so fascinating. There's no question I have not always been securely attached, nor my husband, but I like to read that this attachment is flexible. It can get better.

I'd love to sink into the arms of someone - anyone - who was willing to be the comforter. It's not easy to be the source of strength for others, to be the one 'all right', 'fine'. There's the temptation to fall apart and wait for someone to come along, perhaps, to save me. Since I doubt that could or would happen, I find myself a little avoidant, for sure. I am soaking in my own company. At the same time, there is a voice whispering in my ear a great deal, 'You will be okay. I am here with you.' I am not sure who exactly is whispering, but I appreciate her company.