Family

Shut Up and Dance

/ James Browning

My DVR is one of my most appreciated gizmos.  Every week or two I surf through listings on the movie channels I subscribe and pick out a few films showing in the future and record a few; saved for when I can get around to them.  Frequently, my searching brings me across a film I have never heard of that catches my attention due to the plot description, the subject matter, actors and actresses or some combination of these factors.

“Evening” is just such a movie.  Critics and most viewers panned the film and I can understand why.  One really has to have a very still mind and be open to the message contained within it.  This is NOT a movie intended to idly entertain those who view it.  One has to be able to relate personally in some manner to enjoy…actually ‘enjoy’ is the wrong word.. to appreciate the message of the movie.

Actress Vanessa Redgrave, at seventy years old, delivers an amazing (at least to me!) performance of a woman near death remembering bits and pieces of her romantic past and dealing with the emotional present of her daughters. As her character lays dying, she relives and is moved to convey to her daughters, the defining moments in her life 50+ years prior.

The full cast is impressive and makes the movie all the more believable.  Claire Danes, Natasha Richardson, Meryl Streep, Glenn Close, Barry Bostwick, Toni Collette and more contribute to making the story feel “real” to me. Far from being just a romantic love story, what is told on screen is a bit too gritty and realistic to be even close to a “chick flick”.  Instead it is a moving piece about life and a thinker’s movie that leaves one with a message.  What I got from it is: There are no mistakes; there is only life.  No matter whether we do good or bad or what kind of choices are made, it is still life.  And life is never a mistake.

For my way of thinking Goldie Hawn said something akin to the message of “Evening”: The lotus is the most beautiful flower, whose petals open one by one. But it will only grow in the mud. In order to grow and gain wisdom, first you must have the mud — the obstacles of life and its suffering. … The mud speaks of the common ground that humans share, no matter what our stations in life. … Whether we have it all or we have nothing, we are all faced with the same obstacles: sadness, loss, illness, dying and death.

A poem by Naomi Shihab Nye called “Kindness” also contains a similar message in these words I have selected from it to include here:

you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.

Ultimately seeing the film “Evening”, reading Goldie Hawn’s quote once again and letting Nye’s words sink in mentally all bring me back to the same place:  there are no mistakes, there is only life.  Everything that happens, good, bad or indifferent” is “my life”  and to be embraced with gratitude.

By loving the best and joyous along with most painful and difficult is how I have found a measure of peace, contentment and ease for living my days.  Far from some mystic know it all who lives in constant bliss, I am just a man doing the best he can who is grateful for his life and all that is within it!  As best I possibly can I endeavor to do what the character Buddy in “Evening” says, Shut up and dance.

The gem cannot be polished without friction,
nor man be perfected without trials.
Danish Proverb

The $#*! Kids Say

/ James Browning

These quotes are uninhibited comments made by British children taken from a commercial airing in the UK for a nonprofit organization:

(little boy) I was 6 on the 50th of November.

(little girl) Do mommies teach babies how to laugh or do they know already?

(little girl) Dolly’s having a Vodka.  Have another vodka Mummy, you like it.  Have another vodka.

(little boy) I don’t have a bedtime because my Mum doesn’t get back until really late.

(little girl) Shut it, you’re doing my head in. I’m warning you.

(little boy) Can I go to your house?  (WHY?)  Because I don’t want to go back to my house.

(little girl) I’m a mistake.  It’s always my fault.

(little boy whispering) Daddy banged my eyes on the floor.  It’s a secret, I’m not allowed to tell.

The comments from the TV advertisement start out amusing cute as little kids often are.  But the young children’s comments that follow are alarmingly honest about their fears and show how they are shaped by what they see and experience.  This is a tender subject for me because I was abused as a child.  Even just writing that brings relieve.  My denial for many years only made the effects worse.

I experienced “covert sexual abuse” which comes from what a kid is exposed to.  I saw and heard way too much, way too young.  There was some physical abuse by the man I refer to as “the evil stepfather” with his tendency to take punishment too far. But the most damaging was neglect and being made to feel unloved and unwanted.

Susanne Babbel, Ph.D., M.F.T. wrote Child neglect is more common than you might think. Comfort, nourishment, shelter, and care should be things that a child can take for granted. Unfortunately, child neglect is a rampant problem that statistically exceeds child physical and sexual abuse in the U.S. The National Child Abuse and Neglect Data System defines neglect as a type of maltreatment that refers to the failure by the caregiver to provide needed, age-appropriate care although financially able to do so.

1) Physical Neglect – Children need basic necessities as everyone: food, clothing, shelter, but are reliant on others to provide these necessities.
2) Educational neglect – Failure to provide a child with adequate education.
3) Emotional neglect – Consistently ignoring, rejecting, verbally abusing, teasing, withholding love, isolating, or terrorizing a child.
4) Medical neglect – The failure to provide appropriate health care for a child (although financially able to do so).

The latter two were a constant part of my childhood while number one popped up from time to time.  I was lucky that school was a place that cost a lot less than daycare which allowed me the opportunity to get a good education.

Long and hard I have worked to overcome the trauma of my childhood and its effects are greatly diminished today.  I don’t blame my parents.  They were 18 and 19 years old when I was born and were basically “babies having a baby”.

The point I want to make is neglected children are in danger of not developing properly.  The hidden danger of child neglect – the one that may not be apparent for many years but which can stick with a person for their lifetime – is Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  It can deeply affect a child psychologically and emotionally with long-term effects.  Children who experience neglect early in life may be at risk for a lifetime of trouble attaching properly in relationships.

I know all about PTSD, love avoidance, codependence, sexual compulsion, moderate depression and surviving childhood trauma as those six things are what professionals pointed out to me long ago as my ‘issues”.  I do not write here about my childhood baggage for sympathy or pity. Rather my intent and hope is two-fold:  1) To help parents see the impact their actions can have on their children and 2) to encourage adults who were abused as children to seek help and realize life can get better if you work at it.  I am living proof!

Intellectually I have come a million miles past my  ‘junk’ and most of the time it lives in remission.  When those old ghosts get loose today I am much better at withstanding their attacks than ever before.  And for that I am immensely grateful!

Although the world is full of suffering, it is full also of overcoming it.
Helen Keller

Go here for the complete TV commercial being aired in the United Kingdom by NSPCC (National Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children):  link

Whatever the Outcome… Forgive Yourself

/ James Browning

Likely the period of most profound growth for me was time spent immersed in learning who I was and coming face to face with ‘what was and is’ while at “The Meadows” in Wickenburg Arizona.  Those weeks in the high Sonora  Desert in 2007 were eye-opening and life changing beyond anything I can describe.

When I think of the experience, the first things that come to mind are:
1) Life is pretty much what you make it into.
2) Letting the past go is critical to having a future.
3) People I care about and those who care about me are what really matters.

On point number three I was exposed at The Meadows to a loosely structured way of making amends.  The process can those willing to listen and hear what I have to say, but is not sure thing.  However it almost always works in helping me make peace with myself.

To verbally attempt to make amends all that’s needed is someone willing to hear me out, even if they can barely stand to do so.  Attempting to make amends with another who does not want to be around me and holds great bitterness and hatred will only serve to make the chasm between us wider and deeper.

The amends process is mentioned often in recovery and self-help groups although the only “written form” I am aware of is the sheet just below.

The process is to over time thoughtfully fill out the ‘amends sheet’ and share the contents with the person you hurt, offended or wronged.  Sometimes sharing it with another is impossible and my healing comes from the focus to complete the form.  At other times it will make no difference and the abhorrence the person feels will be unaffected.

There are other occasions when a someone considers what was shared and accepts the amends somewhere in the future.  And there are the instances when an amends makes an instant difference.  It has amazed me how a person who could hardly stand to be in my presence softened and connected with me again when I spoke my amends. The “Likes/Loves” section can lend a lot toward helping reestablish some equilibrium between people.

It is important to remember an amend is not just an apology, but instead is about establishing justice as much as possible. If the indiscretion can’t be paid back or rebuilt, then symbolically restoration needs to be made.  Nothing says the latter stronger than a true change in the behavior and future actions of the offender.

Sometimes it makes no sense to make an ‘in-person” amends as more damage could be done by it.  At others amends are impossible because a person one hurt has passed on or is impossible to locate.  Then a “living” amends can help. This simply means living differently. Amends are about a genuine change in behavior instead of the patchwork of an apology.

The ten tips below about making amends can be found here in depth LINK
1. Face your own feelings first… it’s not always self-evident.
2. Understand what it takes to make amends. Go beyond desire to cover up shame.
3. Write down the reasons to make amends.  Get out of your head and on paper.
4. Look over your reasons… See patterns emerging?
5. Practice what you need to say in your head. Prepare your notes (form).
6. Express genuine regret and provide measurable promises to change.
7. Decide to meet … face-to-face (at) a good, neutral place (if it makes sense)
8. Don’t overdo it! Avoid making assumptions about their feelings or perspective.
9. Keep it simple and to the point.
10. Resolve to move on.  Whatever the outcome… forgive yourself.

Today’s blog came from looking for a file in my documents and stumbling across “The Meadow’s Amends Form”.  It has served me so well in making peace with others and myself.  The greatest benefit of each attempted amends, whether accepted well or badly by another, is the healing that has come to me.  For every one I have made and all those I yet will, I am very grateful for the process I was taught its many benefits.

The injured party does not want to be compensated because he has been wronged;
he wants to be healed because he has been hurt.
G.K. Chesterton

NOTE:  To save the form right click on it at the top of the blog and select ‘save picture as”.

Grown-Ups Never Understand

/ James Browning

This could be fiction that is actually true or truth that is really fiction. Or this could be a combination of both. Fact, fantasy or imaginary and in what parts does not matter for anyone the words fit, a little or a lot, will know I wrote this especially for them.

Once upon a time there was a little bitty girl who was happy and content. She smiled a lot, laughed easily and loved her life. There were reasons to be sad she had thankfully not discovered yet. She loved her mother and her grandmother was very special to her. The little girl had many happy days.

Soon the small girl was old enough to go to school. Before she began she had learned that having only a Mommy was not the life most kids lived. At school this difference became more obvious to her. She smiled on the outside as a general sadness took root and slowly grew stronger on the inside. The child felt different than other kids and did not value how special and unique she was.

She generally liked school and had plenty of friends. The girl moved through all circles of people from the in-crowd to the outcasts, while feeling she fit into none of them well. She smiled easily and often for a part of her was happy. She wanted people to see her happiness or at least as much of it as she could let herself feel. The girl kept the sadness that had taken root inside hidden away but each day it grew slowly within her.

As the girl became a young woman, she hoped the “one” would come along to sweep her off her feet and into the happiness she longed for. She yearned for the “happily ever after” that her Mother had not known and felt it was possible for her. Why the boys almost always ended up hurting her or mistreating her she could never figure out.

The girl grew into a woman who was a bright spot in any gathering. Outwardly cheerful with a sharp sense of humor she was viewed as a person who was very smart and in control of their destiny. They did not know that was the mask for the little girl inside who was sad, scared and felt unloved.

Now years and years into adulthood she no longer always hides her unhappiness. Those who know her see a good person but a cynical and emotionally withdrawn woman who is a bit angry with life. That is only the face she gives the world to scare possible hurts away. All she wants is to love and be loved.

The Little Girl Inside by Phoenixx

Little Girl,
I see you there,
Crying in a corner to yourself.
Little Girl,
I see how they treat you,
Like a piece of trash on the streets.
Little Girl,
I see how they’ve wronged you,
Kicking you to the curb.
Little Girl,
I see you there,
Crying in a corner to yourself.

Little Girl,
I hear you there,
Weeping and sobbing and moaning.
Little Girl,
I hear you there,
Praying for it all to end.
Little Girl,
I hear you there,
Telling yourself you’re not beautiful.
Little Girl,
I hear you there,
Weeping and sobbing and moaning.

Little Girl,
I feel you there,
In pain and in doubt inside.
Little Girl,
I feel you there,
Trying to hide from their cruel words.
Little Girl,
I feel you there,
Trying to stand up by yourself.
Little Girl,
I feel you there,
In pain and in doubt inside.

Little Girl,
I am here now,
Here to cry with you.
Little Girl,
I am here now,
To comfort your sorrows and pain.
Little Girl,
I am here now,
To tell you you’re beautiful.
Little Girl,
I am here now,
Here to cry with you.

All one has to do is change “she” to “he” and you have a story that fits some of my life. Today I am grateful for the childhood pain that softened me and made me sympathetic to other’s feelings. And even more so, my gratitude is large for the ability to finally be grown up enough to willingly let what I feel show.

Grown-ups never understand anything for themselves,
and it is tiresome for children to be always and forever
explaining things to them.
From “The Little Prince” by Saint-Exupéry

What is Most Precious

/ James Browning

Right Now –
-somebody is very proud of you.
-somebody is thinking of you.
-somebody is caring about you.
-somebody misses you.
-somebody wants to talk to you.
-somebody wants to be with you.
-somebody hopes you aren’t in trouble.
-somebody is thankful for the support you have provided.
-somebody wants to hold your hand.
-somebody hopes everything turns out all right.
-somebody wants you to be happy.
-somebody wants you to find him/her.
-somebody is celebrating your successes.
-somebody wants to give you a gift.
-somebody thinks that you ARE a gift.
-somebody hopes you’re not too cold, or too hot
-somebody wants to hug you.
-somebody loves you.
-somebody admires your strength.
-somebody is thinking of you and smiling.
-somebody wants to be your shoulder to cry on.
-somebody wants to go out with you and have a lot of fun.
-somebody thinks the world of you.
-somebody wants to protect you.
-somebody would do anything for you.
-somebody wants to be forgiven.
-somebody is grateful for your forgiveness.
-somebody wants to laugh with you.
-somebody remembers you and wishes that you were there.
-somebody is praising God for you.
-somebody needs to know that your love is unconditional.
-somebody values your advice.
-somebody wants to tell you how much they care.
-somebody wants to share their dreams with you.
-somebody wants to hold you in their arms.
-somebody wants YOU to hold them in your arms.
-somebody treasures your spirit.
-somebody wishes they could STOP time because of you.
-somebody praises God for your friendship and love.
-somebody can’t wait to see you.
-somebody loves you for who you are.
-somebody loves the way you make them feel.
-somebody wants to be with you.
-somebody wants you to know they are there for you.
-somebody’s glad that you’re his/her friend.
-somebody wants to be your friend.
-somebody stayed up all night thinking about you.
-somebody is alive because of you.
-somebody is wishing that you noticed him/her.
-somebody wants to get to know you better.
-somebody wants to be near you.
-somebody misses your advice/guidance.
-somebody has faith in you.
-somebody trusts you.
-somebody needs you to send them this letter
-somebody needs your support.
-somebody needs you to have faith in them.
-somebody will cry when they read this.
-somebody needs you to let them be your friend.
-somebody hears a song that reminds them of you.

Sometimes…
-when I feel like I don’t matter.
-when being alone is hard to bear.
-when sadness over takes me. 
-when I am wondering if anyone cares.
-when depression comes to visit.
-when my inner light is flickering.
-when I feel “less than” or incomplete.
-when the day is hard to bear.
and when the night is even harder….

……..I read the first list above.  Almost always there is a positive shift in my spirit, of nourishment being added to my heart and of my thoughts refocusing toward what I am grateful for.  Then I am filled with gratitude for what is most precious to me:  those I care about and those who care about me!

The purpose of life is not to be happy – but to matter,
to be productive, to be useful, to have it make some difference
that you have lived at all.
Leo Rosten

It’s Harder to Ignore It

/ James Browning

Dear Dad,

The last time we spoke I was very angry at you and my feelings were not misplaced.  You needed to hear what I had to say.  At the time there is no way to have known we would never speak again.

Here in late middle age I am making peace with the emotional injuries of childhood including you leaving on my seventh birthday.  I don’t hold that against now.  How complicated adult life actually is has been taught to me the hard way.  Having made some weighty mistakes that are now deeply regretted, I comprehend better why you shed tears and spoke “I’m so sorry’s” during my visits as a grown man.  You never did anything intentionally to hurt me.  I know that.  Rather you were lost in your dysfunctions, delusions and “junk” from childhood.  I’m don’t think you ever even thought there were anything wrong with you nor ever saw those primary causes of the chaos and unhappiness of your life.

In childhood you were hurt and damaged. That is a good bit of what led you to behave as you did as an adult. Your mother abandoned you at seven when you and a younger brother were left with a middle-aged and bitter father who knew nothing about raising children.  From stories told it is easy to see he too was emotionally injured from his own formative years.  My suspicion is his father was an emotional mess too as was his father before him and so on.  There is no way of knowing how far back the dysfunctions have been passed from generation to generation are rooted.

I will never think of you as a bad man, but will always know you were a weak one.  You spent all your life running away from yourself, but like your shadow in daylight that was always present, you were unable to outrun your childhood baggage.  You tried the cure of money and found it fixed little to nothing.  Actually it probably helped you become more deeply enmeshed in your dysfunctional behavior.  All the marriages and the parade of women in your life at best only temporarily relieved your pain.  The pursuit of fame and burning desire to have “famous friends” did nothing but fuel what was already wrong.

Then came alcohol abuse followed by drugs I believe you took up to look cool to the younger women you pursued.  Somehow dating women young enough not just to be your daughter, but in some cases you granddaughter gave you a temporary false sense of being younger.  The twenty-something women were just another of another substance of choice to numb what hurt inside you.

I wish there was more pride in me for the person you were.  Instead there is memory of a man I loved in spite of his mistakes, flaws, dysfunctions and injurious behavior to himself and others.  Never was there ever any real happiness in your life.  How constantly you kicked away chances at contentment was never something you realized.  It makes me sad when I think of how tormented your life was.  You never knew your place which makes me all the more grateful I am down the road a good way in knowing mine.

Although there was no contact between us during the last year and a half of your life, I am glad you ended up in rehab.  While that was not your choice and the legal system put you there, sobriety did find you.  Staying straight and living humbly the last eighteen months of your life is something I am proud you accomplished.  You faced the most difficult person to face:  yourself, and made at least a temporary peace.

This May twenty years ago you died of a heart attack at an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting at the end of taking a turn sharing about your journey.  To know you made a difference in other lives, if even small ones, gives me something to be proud of you for.  I doubt long-term you could have stayed sober, but that is irrelevant now.  What does matter is your last days were spent trying to face your demons and walking a path of sobriety.  I will always be grateful for that.

Love always,

Your son

All the times that I cried,
Keeping all the things I knew inside,
It’s hard, but it’s harder to ignore it.
From Cat Steven’s song “Father and Son”

Two Eyes on the Same Side of the Nose

/ James Browning

For several weeks my job has had me working on a financial project that hasrequired being sharply focued for hours and hour on spreadsheets.  Last week I needed a mental “breather” and took my lunch break to stop by my favorite used book store. 

This particular used book store is quite large.  It has more books that any chain store I’ve ever been in and fills an entire old strip center.  My time there is usually spent in browsing sections I have the most interest in:  psychology, self-help, poetry, philosophy, new-age and health aisles.   There’s even a particular pattern I follow that is the most efficient way to check my favorite sections for anything new that may have come in since my last visit.  Most often poetry is the last section checked as within my loop it’s the final stop before the register and front door. 

This past Wednesday it was near 2pm when I neared in that last aisle.  The small poetry section is located at the very back of walkway created by long flanking shelves of children’s book’s on the right and left.  On the floor just in front of the poetry shelves was a thirty-something man sitting on the floor reading to a little boy about five years old sitting in his lap.  From the way the kindergartener looked at the adult I surmised what was in my view was father and son.  My mind floated to a past memory of my son as a youngster as I watched and listened.

Standing a dozen feet away for about a minute before the father noticed me, I was the chance voyeur of a sweet moment shared between the him and his son.  Overhearing the words being read I identified them as familiar, but from a source not immediately known. 

I sent a message to the fish:
I told them “This is what I wish.”
The little fishes of the sea,
They sent an answer back to me.
The little fishes’ answer was
“We cannot do it, Sir, because-“

It was right after I heard “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand,” said Alice.  “It gets easier further on,'” Humpty Dumpty replied that I knew the words were from “Through the Looking Glass…”, Lewis Carroll’s follow-up to “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland”.  The small boy looked at the book, then to the reader’s face and then up to me and back down on the book.  The father continued. 

I sent to them again to say
“It will be better to obey.”
The fishes answered, with a grin,
“Why, what a temper you are in!”
I told them once, I told them twice:
They would not listen to advice.

I’m smiling enjoying what I am seeing and hearing.  At that point the little guy is looking directly at me with a somewhat serious look as if I am somewhere I am not supposed to be.  At that moment I believe he was convinced the real estate of that particular aisle was fully owned by him and his father.  He looked back at the book as the reading continued. 

I took a kettle large and new,
Fit for the deed I had to do.
My heart went hop, my heart went thump:
I filled the kettle at the pump. 

The young boy pulled on the shirt sleeve on the arm around him.  His father first looked at him and then up at me.  I quickly said “don’t mind me, I was just eavesdropping”.  I would have preferred the reading to continue.  The thought occurred I should leave and let them be but before I could the dad said “excuse us” and he moved to get up to make way for me in the aisle.  I pointed to a bench about 15 feet away and said something like “I’m sorry for interrupting you guys.  Maybe you’ll be more comfortable over there.” 

I browsed the poetry section quickly and found nothing new as I strained to hear the continued reading now from the bench out of ear shot.  As I walked by them and toward the front door the last thought I made out being read was one of Humpty Dumpty suggesting two eyes on the same side of the nose.  That line made the little boy laugh the cutest little laugh.  

Always I will remember father and son sitting on the floor sharing Alice’s Wonderland adventures.  Seeing them brought back memories of my almost thirty year old son as a child sitting in my lap while I read to him.  I found the needed mental decompression I needed when a just-made memory connected with an old one, increasing the value of both.  What a delightful experience!   I am very grateful for it.  There is so much life and joy to be found when I will just stop and notice it. 

Pleasure is the flower that passes;
remembrance, the lasting perfume.
Jean de Boufflers

A Do-It-Yourself Blog

/ James Browning

Here today are few words and collage of photos intended for the do-it-yourselfer.  Take in the three word definitions and the photos of people.  Then spend a few moments with reflecting on them.  You are almost guaranteed to feel better!  

Happiness:   good fortune,  prosperity, a state of well-being and contentment, a pleasurable or satisfying experience, a mental state of well-being

Joy:  a deep feeling of happiness or contentment, outward show of pleasure or delight; rejoicing, well-being, success, or good fortune

Bliss:  immense happiness; serene joy, the ecstatic joy of near heaven, serenely joyful or glad, supreme happiness; utter joy or contentment, euphoria

Joy, Bliss and Happiness are catching!  I am very grateful for how good putting this together left me feeling!

If you want to be happy, be.
Leo Tolstoy

An Almost Infinite Capacity

/ James Browning / 3 Comments

Yesterday day at work I recited to someone an alternate version of a favorite Christmas song he had never heard.  With it fresh on my mind, I tried it out on two others who it turned out had never heard it as well.  So today it is getting shared here for the “betterment of posterity”.  

I have no exact memory of how old I was, but my favorite uncle taught me this alternate version of “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” when I was still in elementary school.  It took him teaching me on and off for a full weekend before all the words were indelibly stamped in my brain where they have remained now for fifty years.  Here goes:

Randolph, the bow-legged cowboy
Had a very shiny gun
And if you ever saw it
You would turn about and run.
 
All of the other cowboys
Used to laugh and call him names.
They never let poor Randolph
Join in any poker games.

Then one day the bank was robbed
And sheriff came to say
“Randolph with your gun so bright
Won’t you guide my posse tonight?”

Then all the cowgirls loved him
As they shouted out with glee
Randolph the bow-legged cowboy
You’ll go down in history! 

There are many alternate versions of Christmas carols and poetry of the season, but none I enjoy more than this slightly twisted version of “Twas the Night before Christmas”.  It is a reminder of what the season is truly about.

Tis the month before Christmas, we’re all going nuts;
With so much to do, there are no ifs, ands or buts.
Buy presents, hang tree lights, pop cards in the mail,
Send gift packs, thread popcorn, find turkeys on sale.

Decorations need stringing up all through the house.
And you haven’t a clue what to buy for your spouse.
School concerts, receptions, open houses with friends,
Long lineups, short tempers, tying up the loose ends.

With all our mad dashing, we’re reeling from shock;
Let’s stop for a minute and really take stock.
It’s crassly commercial, the cynical say;
If that’s true, that our fault… it’s us and not they.

Take time for yourself-though hard as that seems—
Enjoy your kids’ laughter, excitement and dreams.
Take a moment out now, don’t get overly riled,
Instead make an angel in snow with your child.

The shortbread can wait, and so can the tree;
What’s important to feel is a child’s sense of glee.
The holidays aren’t about push, rush and shove;
They’re for friendship and sharing and family love.

Hear the bells, feel the warmth, light up with the glow
Of a message first sent to us so long ago:
Peace, love and goodwill, and hope burning bright.
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

Now is the time of heightened goodwill, of giving, of loving one and all.  It is a time of celebration of children; the ones we adults used to be, the ones we brought into the world and the one who was born in a manger over two thousand years ago.

Aldous Huxley wrote:  Most human beings have an almost infinite capacity for taking things for granted.  Without doubt that phrase was abundantly true about me during much of my life.  This year I have more Christmas spirit than I probably have ever had and the reason is two-fold and simple:  I have more love in my life than ever before and my gratitude for living is at an all time high and growing.   

I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round, as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. 
Charles Dickens

Part of Loving is to Let Go

/ James Browning / 1 Comment

Her name was Evelyn Thompson and she was my girlfriend when I has a junior in high school.  She was a year older and my first serious girlfriend. I loved her to the capacity a 16-year-old boy can.  Never before had I cried over the loss of a girlfriend, but when she broke up with me tears of heartbreak came for the first time. I felt her loss from my life deeply.

While her parents tolerated me, the relationship Evelyn and I had scared them. It’s clear today they wanted her to go to college and being seriously involved with a ‘boy’ was a threat to that. In reality our relationship probably was a bit dangerous for their hopes and who knows what might have happened without the pressure they put on her. Garth Brooks wrote “some of God’s greatest gifts are unanswered prayers”.  Certainly that was true of Evelyn and me. I was such a mess emotionally then and would certainly have made chaos of anything we might have become.

The time was 1969-1970 and my home life was at its peak of dysfunction. My mother’s drinking was escalating and my despised stepfather was getting meaner as he took my adolescence as a serious threat. It was getting harder for him to control and abuse me because I made my own money, paid my own bills, excelled at school and was a good kid. He had nothing to be upset at me about, although he still found reasons that were ever-increasing growing thin.

In a matter of a few months I would stand up to him when he drew back to hit me saying “go ahead. I’ll stomp you until you’re a grease spot”. I was at my breaking point and at that moment there was no doubt my intentions would have been to inflict as much damage to him as possible.  He saw the pent-up rage in my eyes and knew I absolutely meant what I said. He did not touch me that day or ever again. He and my mother threw me into the street three weeks later.

On foot with a suitcase I left walking down the street and never went back. With enough money for two nights I sat in my motel room pondering my options.  I realized there were few.  My part-time job did not yeild enough income to live on my own and go to school at the same time. There was only one choice. I called my Father two hundred miles away who I barely knew.  He heard me say “I have no place to go. Can I come stay with you?” He took me in and gave me the best year of my childhood.  My senior year of high school was happily spent with my Father, stepmother and eight year old half-sister.

Had it not become necessary for me to move two hundred miles away, there is certainty within it would have been Evelyn I eventually sought solace from.  My confidence is strong that she would have tried to help me if I had asked. I also feel certain she could not have given me what I needed to make my life better. Even if we had gotten back together, we were so very young.  With my dysfunctions learned growing up I would have unintentionally torn us apart as I was nowhere near ready for a long-term relationship. Heck, I was not even ready for one then another failed marriage.  Only in more recent times have I arrived at a point of mental clarity where I have a good chance of being in a long-term love relationship successfully.

With some regularity I wonder what happened to Evelyn Thompson of Ashland, Alabama, Class of 1970.  There are no thoughts of trying to rekindle an old flame. I know well there is no going back and life cannot be lived in reversed.  Today I am uncertain how true and deep my love for her really was anyway. What I recall feeling most about her had a lot to do with wanting to feel needed, important and cared about by someone.  She was tender and kind to me; rare commodities in my teen years.

Gratefulness lives deep and solid in my heart for the sweet times Evelyn and I shared.  We never had sex and even making out was never anything past an “R” rating.  The memory I retain is of a relationship that was gentle and caring.  A favorite memory is sitting in her family’s living room listening to Tommy James and the Shondells “Greatest Hits” while holding hands and hugging with an occasional smooch.  We went to different schools and she went to my “Junior-Senior Prom”.  I went to hers.  Buried in an old trunk not opened in years till recently remains a double frame with a photo taken at each prom along with my lapel flower from one or the other.  I have not thought of those things in years.

Years ago I heard she married and was working for the power company in Gadsden, Alabama. I never followed up and it’s just as well. My hope is Evelyn is having a rewarding life blessed with much happiness. The pain of our breakup forty-one years ago has mellowed into sweet and cherished memories I am grateful for.  Evelyn, thank you for being ‘my girl’ once upon a time!

Part of loving is learning to let go.
The Wonder Years Television show