Intimacy: I see you; you see me

     I have felt lonely and alone—like I have to do everything myself and carry the burden alone—both as a married woman and more recently as a single mom, and it’s taken me a long time to feel the love that is around me every day.

At a Focus Tuesday meeting in Kansas City one night, Dawna Grigsby said intimacy means that “I see you, and you see me.”  Her definition of intimacy made so much sense that I never forgot it. 

I felt comfortable with the first part and even enjoyed getting to know others, sharing ideas with them, going to deeper levels of heart and truth; however, I felt extremely uncomfortable with the second part where I was the one looked at.  I felt ruined and damaged, like film exposed to the sun, and I didn’t want anyone to see me.  I didn’t want to see myself.

I was unhappy and disconnected yet didn’t know why.  Now I understand that real intimacy is more than being open to other people; it starts with being open to self and God.  With seeing and knowing self and God. To be intimate with another, we must be intimate with ourselves and our Creator. As my relationship with God has strengthened, my relationships with others are improving.  As I begin to see and accept myself, I begin to connect more with other people.

Today is the day after Valentine’s Day, which is a day of love and friendship, and I am feeling more love and connection than I ever remember experiencing before.  For the first time in a very long time, I don’t feel lonely because I know that God is with me and loves me. As Chris Tomlin sings in “Whom Shall I Fear,” “I know who goes before me. I know who stands behind. The God of angel armies is always by my side. The One who reigns forever. He is a friend of mine. The God of angel armies is always by my side.” And I know that the members of my small group at church are also walking with me. I know that my girls are with me. In fact, I am surrounded by kind and loving people (including all of my online friends) and feel blessed.  I feel like George Bailey at the end of It’s a Wonderful Life when he finally “wakes” up and sees how wonderful his life is and Harry says that George is the “richest” man in town because so many people care about him.

I am loved. I am loving. I am love.

Earlier this week, I bought dark chocolate and a beautiful bouquet of flowers to share with my girls for a Valentine’s Day treat.  Otherwise, I went through a normal day of work and errands, yet I felt content, connected.

“To love another person is to see the face of God.” Whenever I hear this line from the end of Les Miserables, I smile and cry because it is so beautiful and so true and because it shows me that I am blessed to love and be loved.

I remember a therapist I saw in Florida who, during our first session, started with the question, “How’s your heart?”  No one had ever asked me that precise question before, and it shocked me. At first I thought she was asking if I had physical heart problems because I’ve had anxiety attacks where I was scared of having a heart attack. Then, I realized she meant my heart, my soul…everything that makes me Rachel, and I didn’t know what to say. How often do we ask each other, ask ourselves, how is your heart today? Where is your heart right now? And how different would our lives, our families, our world be if we started with that?

KarenMcElmurry, my writing mentor during the last year of my MFA, writes about the dark heart with compassion, honesty, and courage, which is my hope for my writing and life…to lead with compassion, honesty, forgiveness, and love.

I taught the song “The Heart of the Matter” to my non-native speaking students yesterday in reading class, and the song is true. What is most important is forgiveness, which only happens with compassion and love: love of self, love of God, love of others. Dawna Grigsby once defined compassion as “love in action,” which makes sense because love begets compassion which begets forgiveness which begets love…a beautiful cycle of hope. So, the truth is that love is what is important; love is what matters; God is love.

Running on Empty, Running on Stuffed

Extremes are not healthy.

An empty fridge, down to canned soup for supper. Gas on empty, rummage for enough change to pump one gallon of gas. A pile of bills, waiting to be paid. Hungry children searching for something to pack for lunch. Vitamins that keep a single, working mother running…gone. One dollar and thirty-five cents left in the bank account. Pay day changed…moved to two weeks away.    

I lived that scenario last month and can tell you that it is not fun, which is obviously an understatement. While we were able to receive much needed help, I felt stressed and anxious. Depressed that we were in that situation. Embarrassed that we had to ask for help. Worried about how it would all work out.   

Extremes are not healthy.

          Seriously, having nothing (no money, no gas, no food, no toilet paper, no cat food) sucks. 

          Yet is it fair for me to say that we had “nothing,” for we had a roof over our heads, each other, our cats, two TVs, two old but working computers, an old but working vehicle, three cell phones, numerous movies, books, articles of clothing, etc. 

          And while living this “nothing” and running on empty, we were richly blessed.  How were we blessed?  Let me count the ways.

          First of all, we learned how kind and compassionate people are. For example, a friend baked a delicious and healthy meal for us one night, and we dined on ham, potatoes, pineapples, plums, and carrots for days. Another friend filled up my gas tank and then took me to the movies because she wanted to watch Les Miserables.

Second, we discovered that God takes care of us, sometimes in the most extraordinary ways. For instance, after the movie with my friend, we stopped at the bathroom where a stranger handed me a $50 gift card to The Melting Pot. I suggested that this woman use it herself, and she related that her granddaughter had already left town and she didn’t really like it and was happy that I would enjoy it. Later that week, T-mobile called me out of the blue to lower our monthly bill and during that phone conversation agreed to replace our old cell phones with new ones (so we have the same exact style but working phones!).

Third, we became creative with using what we have and not wasting so much. One thing I am extremely grateful for:  the girls have learned to eat and enjoy leftovers. They would eat them previously but would grumble or complain or whine or ask for something else or suggest eating out.  Now they are often eager to eat up what’s in the fridge before buying more or asking for more.

Fourth, we realized a greater appreciation for what we have.    

Fifth, we received a stronger ability to live in the now.  My mantra during that time was this:  Right now, I have enough for what we need.  It was true.  In each moment, what I had was all I needed. 

Finally, we gained perspective, and as a former therapist used to say, “Perspective is everything.”

Extremes are not healthy.

As soon as payday came, I rushed to the gas station and filled up the car before heading to Publix and Target for groceries and necessities. I filled up the fridge and cabinets, ordered Reliv vitamins, and paid bills. 

Words cannot express how good it felt to fill up the gas tank rather than only put in a few dollars and to fill it up with my own money rather than relying on a friend. How abundant it felt to open the fridge and see it bursting with healthy food and watch the girls pack Nutella and peanut butter sandwiches along with cheese sticks, yogurt, pretzels, and fruit. I felt abundant, blessed, relieved, and a sense of wellbeing swamped me.

Extremes are not healthy.

I love the feeling of wealth and security that comes with having more than enough, yet I realize that it’s dulled us (our country, our society) in some ways.  As a nation, we are overfed and undernourished.  We are spoiled and rotting.  We are overweight and slow.  We are running on stuffed.

It was so easy to fall back into old patterns until I had to throw away half a bag of spinach. While that’s only a dollar fifty worth of food, it reminded me of just over a week ago when that dollar fifty would have been so vital.  And I hate considering how much food we’ve thrown away over the years. How much have all of us wasted?  How much food, time, talent, energy, people? 

I remember a favorite Ray Bradbury quote of mine from Fahrenheit 451, “Well, after all, this is the age of the disposable tissue. Blow your nose on a person, wad them, flush them away, reach for another, blow, wad, flush. Everyone using everyone else's coattails.”

Being alive is a blessing, having the basics is a miracle, and having abundance, more than enough, and convenience to go with it…that is a wonder. 

The blessings we received while running on empty and the conclusions I’ve come to while running on stuffed all lead up to something I’ve been wanting and working towards for years…balance.  

Balance is the key.  I don’t want to run on empty, but I no longer want to run on stuffed either.  I am grateful for both experiences because knowing what they feel like inspires compassion, kindness, and understanding; however, I am ready for balance in my life, and I know balance comes from self-discipline. 

That means planning ahead and only getting what we truly need for the week (including a few treats) and then using what is in the house before buying more. That means learning to be okay with a fridge half full rather than overflowing. However, that doesn’t mean I can’t be spontaneous and meet a friend for lunch, for example, but it means that I am aware. If I make that choice, what are the consequences? What am I gaining and what is the cost? 

And this scenario applies to all areas of life. How am I balancing work with play? Writing my words with reading other people's words? Time with family, friends, and God? Sleep with everything on the mental To-Do List.  Screen time with time unplugged?  

Where do you find yourself on the spectrum between running on empty and running on stuffed? What choices have you been making? What choices will you make in the future?

“The Next Big Thing”

I met Chris Cutler the summer of 2007 at Murray, Kentucky during a residency at Murray State University.  We were working on our MFAs in creative non-fiction writing, and since it was my second semester (her first), I offered to show her around.  Over typed pages of our words, stacks of recently published memoirs, and homemade chicken soup at Gloria’s, we became fast friends.  Although we are opposites in many ways (she has a son while I have daughters, she is a blond to my brunette, and she hates onions while I put them in almost everything I cook), we have many similar interests (creative writing, teaching, photography, kindness).  A writing teacher, photographer, and the founder and executive director of The Las Vegas Memoir Project, Chris is one of the writing friends I turn to for valued feedback on my writing, and I am thrilled to hear that she is visiting Italy again to explore the questions that “haunt” her and to write about her ancestors “in the environment.”  I cannot wait to read her memoir, Abandoned Houses.  In her blog about The Next Big Thing, Chris discusses her memoir and the journey on which she is about to embark.

Thank you, Chris, for inviting me to participate in the blog share The Next Big Thing (which is an opportunity for writers to network and share what they are working on by responding to a list of “interview” questions).

What is your working title of your book (or story)? 

Right to Breathe.

Where did the idea come from for the book? 

At the same time I was working on essays for my MFA thesis, I was experiencing a life crisis and found myself journaling hundreds of pages.  As my voice emerged, I wanted to make sense of where I came from, what I was going through, and who I wanted to be.

Each essay materialized from a different place.  For instance, while listening to a reading by Squire Babcock, I remembered the snapping turtle that my brother killed while we were waiting to float down the river for one of my mom’s birthday celebrations; that memory became my narrative, “The Celebration.”  For another example, I had several dreams about my mother that lead me to write the prologue to “Women of My Childhood,” and a mentor, Karen McElmurray’s questions about my mom and the white house I grew up in helped me delve deeper and finish the essay.  However, it all began when one of my mentors, Chris Hale, told me to “Start with a blank page.”  Out of that exercise came “Of Beauty, Basements, and Butterflies.”

What genre does your book fall under? 

Memoir.

Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition? 

Strange to think about, but here are some ideas:

My dad:  Jack Nickolson

My mom:  Barbara Streisand

My birth dad:  Owen Wilson

My ex:  Woody Harrelson

As for me, I have no idea, though I was thinking Sandra Bullock because she is authentic and brilliant, and I always love the characters she plays; however, since Chris already chose her, I decided to ask my daughters for other options.  Here is what they suggested:

Me as a child:  If Demi Moore were a kid again, she would play you because she is serious.

Me as a teen:  Abigail Breslin because she is a quirky, quiet girl that everyone likes.

Me as an adult:  Sarah Jessica Parker because you have the same facial features and similar personalities. 

When I asked what they meant by “similar personalities,” they said that her characters tend to worry a lot, and she usually plays a single mom or an independent woman who doesn’t need a man.  Her character is shy but still flirty and fun and likes to stay home a lot, but usually ends up with a good guy.  She always plays the mom character, the one who takes care of everybody. 

The girls also suggested that they should play themselves, but if we had to pick someone currently famous, Laina chose Selena Gomez for her teen years and Bailee Madison for her childhood while Lexi said maybe Amanda Bynes or Emma Roberts. 

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book? 

Right to Breathe is a collection of creative non-fiction narratives that explore the process of reclamation—reclaiming perception, voice, body and even a name.

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

I hope to find a publisher for my book, which is currently under review by Deadrise Books.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript? 

Over the course of about two years, I wrote these narratives.

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre? 

I’m not comfortable comparing my book with others, but here are some of the books that I read and drew inspiration from while working on my memoir:  Just Beneath My Skin: Autobiography and Self-Discovery by Patricia Foster, Wolf at My Table: A Memoir of My Father by Augusten Burroughs, Surrendered Child: A Birth Mother’s Story by Karen McElmurray, Seasons of the Body: Essays by Brenda Miller, Autobiography of a Face by Lucy Grealy, Truth and Beauty: A Friendship by Ann Pratchett, Small Wonder by Barbara Kingsolver, and A Private History of Awe by Scott Russell Sanders. 

Who or what inspired you to write this book?

As I mentioned above, my writing mentors at Murray State University were inspirational during the process as were the numerous non-fiction authors I read.  Mostly, however, I thank God for all of the ideas, opportunities, and support along the way.

What else about your book might pique the reader's interest? 

Several of the essays in my memoir have recently been published.  "Dolphins for Christmas" appeared in Florida English, while "The Celebration" is in New Plains Review.  Then, CircaReview online just published "Of Beauty, Basements, and Butterflies" and "Magic Acts"! 

Right to Breathe is just a stepping stone, and I have ideas for a follow up memoir that are marinating.  More to come…

Thanks again to Chris for this fun opportunity.

Please check out Heather Foster’s "interview" on February 8^th where she will discuss her book, A Heart Like Texas, a novel-in-verse which follows the life of a single speaker in the rural South. The poems are like the speaker: bighearted, risking everything to find and understand love in all its twisted manifestations. You will find her answers on her blog, HEATHERFOSTERDOTORG:  Where Heather Foster gets down and dirty with poetry.