Lessons from Relationships

I read a book which was titled Inner war and peace: lessons from the Gita.  I searched for the sequel which was titled Conflict Resolutions: relationship lessons from the Gita.  This book was not available on the stands!

I wondered whether it was because people are finding it more difficult to handle relationships than themselves.  I have been seeing relationship dynamics at various levels, and I am reflecting on the various handles and triggers that sets off an ordinary discussion spiraling into a conflict. What can be a simple conversation over a cup of tea becomes a convoluted issue where everyone is sucked in, and each one has a hidden agenda, their own stakes in the matter, and finally a whole lot of hurts for the garbage bin, in addition to uneaten biscuits and cold cups of tea. The one left with the unresolved issue finally starts wondering at the futility of the whole exercise and needs help to gather the broken pieces.

Helping such a person, you are in danger of getting sucked in into the issue if you are not careful to be in the problem-solving mode. The person continues to hold on to hurts, feeling unsupported and challenged. If we are able to equip the person with seeing the problem from a solution-focused instead of a problem-focused viewpoint, the person is able to start acting on making small changes, redefining expectations, and the scenario starts to look brighter.

Let me illustrate. I know someone who is on this project of getting her children settled...   But she feels very challenged as she feels the whole process of vetting the proposals, getting information etc. is all very technology-based, and she feels inadequate to cope as she is not very savvy in this field.  Her dependency on others because of this limitation is a block in her getting things done, and when she reaches the end of her tether, all hell breaks loose, and while there is confrontation there is no conflict resolution: both within herself and around her.

Now, she has two options: she can either just give up on her project, and nurse the feeling of guilt in not being a responsible adult, or she can break down the problem into smaller problems and find effective solutions... I don't claim to be a Microsoft geek, but I was able to help her resolve some of her practical issues regarding the workings of the processes involved... When one feels he or she is doing something towards resolving an issue, that itself makes one feel more in command of the situation... It is the feeling of being helpless, dependent or trapped that is debilitating!

The War Within...

There is a war raging within and rains pouring without.  The rain outside is very welcome ; it brings with it cool weather and beauty in nature after it abates.  The plants look green and smiling, and the squirrel on my window sill is back, demanding his share of my evening snack, while keeping an eye out for the wily crow. 

But what about the war within me, which is causing me to cry without a break?  How do I explain to this tender feeling in me, that I get when I speak to my father, who keeps saying, "its been a long time since I have seen you"...?  During a twenty-minute conversation, he asks the same question ten times.  For, he is 87 years old, confined to the house, with only the idiot box for company.  He misses people to talk to; so he starts to have conversations in his mind. He spins yarns which become reality for him, and they become his world.  A world when he was young, agile, in control of his life and dreams.  Today, when he plaintively told me, his knee no longer troubles him, he is feeling much healthier, I could not stop the tears that burst forth, forming a lump in my throat.  He keeps forgetting our names, but makes a brave attempt to substitute them with generic words, hoping the other person will not notice.  I play this game with him;  i urge him to say the names of people and places, and then pretend I have also forgotten; it makes him feel so much better, he consoles me saying, "it's ok if you have forgotten; I do it all the time. You are young and active, and you will remember by and by."

He keeps asking for my daughter and wonders why she did not fight a case he has fought  and won.  He promises to hand over the case file to her when we visit him next.  This is when I know he has never seen the inside of a court room all his life.  But I don’t shatter his world; he is so happy there. Happy that someone is listening to his fables. For a few brief moments, I visit his world with him.  He talks about the time he played tennis at a club close to home (which is true!). And we share happy moments. All the while, I am weeping away. Because of this distance that I am perhaps talking to him for the last time, or perhaps I may not see him or hear his voice: for a while; or perhaps ever.

And all this is over the phone;  not because I am staying too far away to visit him. Not because I don’t want to go and look him up. It’s just over the phone because I am too cowardly to make the trip and put myself through the discomfort of the unpleasantness I face everytime from the environment, where I am judged, made to feel I am living an unapproved-of life by the rest of the family.  I choose to stay away because I am choosing to not get more hurt when I have barbs like I don’t belong because the family is scared of me, they do not feel comfortable talking to me, and such other one-liners hurled at me.  So I compromise by not spending time with the  first man in my life.  I wonder whether I will ever be able to forgive my family for this...

The cost of an innocent olive branch...

You know what they say about the need to understand that sometimes there is no mending a fence. How can you, when you mistake a wall for a fence?  I remember Robert Forst’s poem where he says: there is something that doesn’t love a wall,  that wants it down.  I tried, too hard at times, to mend walls, to just have fences, as, he says, good fences make good neighbors.  I too have tried to break down the walls, but I have only had boulders come crashing down my side. 

Take the case of my neighbor who lives in the flat above mine.  I was facing a very serious problem with a leak in all my rooms, the cause of which was a faulty bathroom in their flat.  No amount of polite conversations or attempts to make her see reason helped.  I only got derogatory remarks and finally it boiled down to screaming matches, and I was reaching the end of my tether. 

 

Aren't buckets meant for the bathroom and utility areas? I had them out in the living room and bedrooms to catch the dripping waste water from her toilet! And then I was pouring it out every time the buckets filled, and yanking my bed sheets out and throwing them away because there were drops on my bed from the ceiling. 

 

There ensued a great battle of wills, and verbal duels, during which the issue reached hysterical proportions on her side. To stop her ranting, we put a recorder in front of her, hoping she would stop the screaming, but she seemed oblivious to it. I had to finally resort to legal threats in order to gain entry into their flat, and had to spend my money to repair their bathroom. I tried to see the lighter side of the situation by telling myself, "technically, I own a flat and a bathroom in this apartment complex!" Anyway, I got back the ownership of my rooms after an agonizing two weeks, along with my peace of mind.  Or so I thought.

The leak stopped, though it left stains on my newly painted walls; and a lot of unpleasant feelings, I bet, even on their side, and not to mention, a sprain on my ankle as I had slipped on the disgusting puddle in my bedroom one day.  I had also developed a bad back as I had been forced to resort to makeshift beds for two weeks, and mounting medical bills. But I fervently hoped it was the end of the matter.

After a month of this episode, one morning, I saw the sister of this lady,  greeted her and enquired if she would accept some prasadam  from a temple I had visited a couple of days ago.  She looked surprised but gracefully accepted the same. I mentioned to her how we need to put the past behind us and move on. She agreed and also said that her sister too needs all the prayers.  I  then sent some prasadam for her sister in a cup.  

A day later, I get an obnoxious message from this lady, accusing me of playing games, calling me a goonda, bad mouthing my daughter, and instructing me to be ethical.  The entire message reeked of absolute venom and it sent shivers up my spine all over again.  I wondered then whether I did the right thing by extending the olive branch.  And if I happen to have a recurrence of any such problem, whether I would be able to resolve it in a neighborly fashion. For my neighbor does not want fences; she only wants high walls.  And I hope the walls do not develop more leaks and bring the building crashing down...

Is it wrong then that I doubt the triumph of being good?  And is it wrong to want to mend fences? If not, should I continue to try? At what cost?

Help from Unexpected Quarters

Yet another learning.  Why is it that when we are going through an intense crisis, we feel so completely alone? Is it because we are floundering and are reaching out, gasping for air? And we find that it is in terrible short supply?  Or is it that people do not know how much of themselves they can commit to resolving your problems?  Or is it also that they are so bogged down by their own issues that they just do not have the energy, time or the inclination to bother to let you know they care.

 

I have been fighting an ongoing battle in my apartment about a leaky ceiling in all my rooms. Two of the rooms are rendered unusable and I have buckets to catch the dripping water. As all means of convincing the people living on the top floor failed, I threatened to resort to legal action, which made them at least approach the mediation table grudgingly. 

 

Now here is the catch. The well meaning people I am surrounded by are so very grateful that the party has agreed to even hold talks that I am urged not to be difficult, to accede to any of their demands, even if it means repairing their bathroom at my cost.  I am advised not to get angry or lose my cool, and to let go of any discomfort I have been put to, as my main problem would be resolved if they kindly accede access to me to repair their bathroom! Never Mind that I slipped on the water, sprained my leg, have strained my back sleeping on the floor in the living room, have lost business because I have not been able to see clients with a bucket in the middle of my consulting room. And also paid medical bills in the bargain. Loss of income,  expense on bills.  I don't even think they realize how much I have been pushed for me to take this stand.

 

In the midst of it all, as I am wondering why some people never even bothered to find out what was happening (and it hurt to know they didn't), I also got help from very unexpected quarters... A simple offer from a casual acquaintance,  a visit from a friend who just came home to say pack your bags and come over,  a plumber who was willing to come with me and help me talk to them, all brought tears to my eyes. Tears because I wanted to wash away with them the feelings of hurt and disappointment caused by some so-called “close” ones, who should have done all this, but didn't.

 

I guess we all do need to fight our own battles, but sometimes, it helps hell of a lot to know, that in case you forget your lines on stage, you have a prompter on the sidelines, waiting to bail you out.

Nurturing Relationships

I am writing after a really long time.  Not to say that there have been no pebbles of thought; rather, a kind of inertia had set in where I started questioning the very thought of even bothering to put pen to paper. I was not taking enough interest to tell the world how I feel for, i think the world stopped mattering to me... Or was it the other way around? Did I stop mattering?  Again, either way there was not enough energy to get down to even doing what I love the most: Writing. Though it always was purposeful and intrinsic, somehow even that intrinsic urge had faded.

Till today.  Today i think there was a leak in the dam of thoughts and it started creating a flow of thoughts that refused to be shut in.  It started when a couple of days back I was casually informed of a death in the family, and when I asked why I was not told about it, it was brushed aside as a matter of no consequence... And then today, I am suddenly given information of someone visiting them. The incongruity of the whole situation irritated me. I mean, I feel like I am on the periphery of a circle, not really knowing half the time what is happening in there.

And I have started being fine with it, for why should every get together, every sickness, every such so-called family matter be spoken about with me?  So I had just let go, and accepted this particular behavior and moved on. At some point i had even stopped complaining about me making all the trips, me making all the efforts at being in connect etc. I realized at some point that I was perhaps not a very comfortable person to be around, and maybe everyone is doing what I was doing too... Self preservation!

So when suddenly I get these one-off messages of some vague visitor, I also realized what i was looking for in relationships... consistency. I realized it was very important for me to feel the relationship was there.  Not appear and disappear. All relationships, whether they have a label or not, need nurturance.  If they don't, how can we be sure whether they are weeds or plants?

So, am I leaving any relationship un-nurtured, I wonder? Is there a phone call I need to make, is there that connect I need to reestablish to let a lonely soul know that he or she matters to me? I am still seeking these answers…

Just for Today

How are people not able to understand that every moment in time you are changing?  How is it that you are expected to maintain the same equilibrium whatever happens in your life?The reason we are born into this world is to learn our lessons, right? Then when you are in the process do you do so in a state of Buddhahood? Or are you allowed to respond, react, grieve, be angry, vent your feelings, allow to experience sadness and joy and then come back to the state of being normal? 

Every loss is a loss, however you term it. You lose a person dear to you, and the dynamics of family living changes... You take a breather, and you are faced with an illness which again brings a series of upheavals in your life. You are barely coping when you find yourself jobless, without any warning.  Still you are moving, grinning, living and not complaining.   You are breathless, coping with the depression of a family member, the bringing up of a teenager, struggling to make ends meet financially. Then you have the blow of a family member committing suicide and the rest of the so called family deciding you do not deserve to belong. You still grin... And you still do not lose faith in life. There is hurt... Lots of it, but you still choose to remain happy.

 

And then, just when you think you have turned the corner, there is a boulder waiting to strike you. And it hits you... Wham! On the face. Just like that. And you feel yourself floating in the fluid of senseless sorrow, clinging on to the one straw that is nearest to you. The only one left in the world to call your own. You still face it. You continue to get up, dust off the grief and pull on. Except for the heavy feeling of numbness, brought on by the absence of the one person who stood by you through it all, and except for the fact that the people you most counted on in your life suddenly fell off the precipice of your life without any warning, without any reason, life was fine. 

The recovery from blows takes time.... And some wounds never heal... You carry them in your aura, and into your psyche.  Even a stone simply lying on the river bed changes its form because of the continuous water flow on its surface. Then is it fair to expect that so many blizzards would leave a person unscarred, unchanged?

Is it masochistic to sit and take stock of all that one goes through? Or is it okay to reflect on your past and reassure yourself on how much you have handled, and it is okay to get angry if someone turns around and tells you that you are not allowing yourself to  heal? Is it okay to not explain how much you have actually fought not to become bitter and cynical, how much you have learnt to smile in the face of adversity? Is it okay to tell the person, that if I had not let go, if I was holding on to bitterness, I would not have had the courage to develop new friendships, to hope and to dream again? Why, I would not have had a relationship with the very same person, who was today sitting and telling me I was not handling life the way I should! Why is it that every time there is self referencing happening when you are given advice on how to handle life situations? Thy sorrow is greater than mine?

Every blow that I have faced has only made me more resilient.  And yes, it has brought about a change in me that I know many may not like.  Maybe I have to take another birth to learn the lessons I have not learnt so far.  But I read somewhere that the most sorrowful events hone the feelings to fine nuances that cannot be put in words. 

 

And today, when I experienced the finality of yet another loss: of a dream, which actually barely saw the light on of the day,  very frankly, all I felt was a sense of relief. Relief that I don't have to pretend, don't have to give explanations for my thoughts and feelings, which are all my own.  It was me, pure and simple, and I don't have to be any which way that I am expected to be. Now I know how Henry David Thoreau felt when he was able to be himself in his log cabin.

Things I really never learnt when I was growing up... And I still am

That people would get close to you only to make you what they would want you to be.

That life is not all about acceptance, that people do not understand that there can be two rights in living life.

That when people claim they are saying things for your good what they mean is why can't you just listen to what I am saying.

That no matter how much people let me down, I still continue to have newer relationships, which only goes to prove pain has not broken me.

That in the garb of being your well-wisher, people talk about their pains and how much greater it is than yours. Life is all about self-referencing, competing and comparing coping mechanisms.

That even when these very people turn around and tell me that I am living life all wrong, all I can do is to withdraw and hope everyone learns their lesson in their own good time.

That I never learnt that my imperfections have been my strengths and if others see it as my weakness, they are entitled to their opinion.

That it makes people very uncomfortable if they are not able to make their opinions accepted, and they put it down to the receiver's defenses.

That they may be right, but I am not wrong.

Searching for Space

The thought that keeps surfacing today is this... What do you talk about?  It is extremely difficult to maintain social contact when the people you are with are not interested in your life and the goings on therein, and in the people who make life bearable for you. In fact, there is a conscious effort to avoid all such topics even for casual conversation.  So much as I would like to talk about my routine, my work, my friends, the wall of indifference makes me mute and I clam up.

Then how do you communicate? I am not let in on anything else that happens around here.  I try to belong and I am politely but definitely signaled to keep off. There is a subtle power game, and I refuse to be drawn in. So I decide to keep to myself, visit people I resonate with and who at least are comfortable talking with me and my life.

But when I do that, there is more resistance. There is a basic absence of social decorum I am seeing too.  Like you feel you do not really count; there is a phone call when you are visiting your family, and the call stretches to three fourth of an hour, while you are left with the TV remote in your hand.  You really wonder whether it is because you are no longer welcomed, or is it because you are so much a part of the family, such social norms as just sitting and talking... really talking... does not matter.  And like I said earlier...  There is not much to talk about anyway.

Which is why I felt I really belonged when my friend whom I visited after a long time, kept saying.... I can't believe you are here..  After a point in your life, I think what you want from a relationship has to become more important than what you are in the relationship.  I may be family but I feel just a tag. But with relationships I choose to be in, I feel I matter enough to feel needed.  There are no power games being played there. It is just being in a comfortable space when you are not being judged, and are allowed to just be...

Reconnecting

I have spoken of broken relationships... Today I am thinking of relationships that have stood the test of time, and though have been dormant have not lost their flavor or strength of feelings.
 
I reconnected with a friend of mine whom I had lost touch with more than twenty years ago.  Though she had made the required calls when I had a crisis in my life, and we spoke for a while, I had really not made any efforts to get the relationship back on track. When I visited the city where our relationship had started, I decided to spend a day with her.

I was absolutely humbled by the way we greeted each other. I knew what the phrase means in its true sense when they say standing the test of time.  It was as if I had somewhere been connected all the while I was away. We had our usual cuppa ginger tea, sitting on the very same chair I had sat on eons ago, while our chatter was interrupted by her statement:  "Are you really here?" She also told me she was apprehensive about whether we could be comfortable with each other after so long... She also said she had called me once sometime back, and I sounded very preoccupied, hence was not very sure I was the same person.  I did not even remember and realized how in this humdrum of daily living, we tend to sweep people away.

We had lunch together, and also relived our fun times when we bought Chocobar for dessert... And how she insisted on licking the last slurp off the paper, making us feel like kids at a sleepover picnic!
We shared anecdotes, people and pain. We also shared quiet moments of togetherness where we thought about how life has taken us through myriad paths of experience, some of which had left us scarred and some strong. We also debated about how our relationship is still somewhere strong at the roots, even while exchanging notes about apparently strong bonds that broke without any rhyme or reason.  All of us are predominantly acting from social interest, and being a recluse is not a natural state of being. But, she said, "I don't have any of my old friends around largely because they may feel I am very opinionated.  But aren't we all?"

The day passed by too soon.  I am not sure when we will meet again, but when I took down her postal address, I told myself I would at least make sure I will write to her. She is not yet comfortable with the world of internet, and seeing the postman deliver new year cards, which she did not open as yet, waiting for 31st, brought home the stark reality of how much we all crave for human company.
I only hope I don't get too caught up in issues that don't matter, or allow other matters of apparently great consequences come in the way of our staying connected with each other.

Serenity Prayer to the Rescue

You know what is the feeling that is most difficult to live with?  It is the feeling of being completely helpless, especially when you are aware of what can be done to make things better.  We go through a lot of conflicts in life, where sometimes we are forced to just let go.  I wish I could let go here too... But I feel I have failed somehow.

Being a psychologist has its failings. Your family thinks you attribute everything to mind and emotions and chemical interventions.Yes, I do believe very strongly in the mind body connection but I also am practical to reach for medical help when needed.

My father has been ailing for quite a while, and though not entirely bedridden, he needs help to move around. He is largely confined to the house, and this tends to get him down as he had been a very brisk and socially active person. This forcibly-altered lifestyle has made him morose, withdrawn and cranky. Of late I have also noticed a deterioration in his mental faculties, and he tends to have some disorientation, which he deftly tries to cover up by behaving in an aggressive manner and talking back at people, be it family, the rare visitor or even the cable operator!

Unfortunately the family puts it down to him being just difficult, and I am also at times guilty of being short with him... I do a lot of self talk when I am with him, telling myself that I need to look at  him holistically.

Keeping this in mind, I approached the family and suggested we speak to the doctor to give him some mood stabilizer. I know we do not have a happiness pill, but it has been proved that certain chemical imbalances in our brain affects the way we feel.  If a minor alteration in this balance through a certain intervention can be achieved, which can help him feel better about himself, what is wrong?  In his late eighties, how does it matter if there was a certain dependency on such medication?  Having handled quite a few geriatric clients, I could clearly see what was happening, but am unable to do anything. If he felt better in his autumn days, was that not enough?

Unfortunately for him... And for me, for I lived up to the reputation of a person who attributes moods to feelings and emotion, none agreed with my theory.  Counter Arguments were many... All he needs is a little company, said one.  He is fine if we just let him have his way, said another.  You people just don't know how to handle him, said another.

My mother was of course bearing the brunt of the whole situation, but she also did not subscribe to my view.  She would just stop telling me about his antics, fearing that I will resort to my favorite subject.  I suspected she too was suffering from a situation-induced depression, but she is a lot more resilient than my father so she would bounce back from these periods of low moods.
  
I guess the resistant attitude comes from the age-old stigma attached to seeking medical intervention for any emotional issues.  But I am left with the feeling that though I am able to help so many others outside my family, I am unable to help my own father, as I don't have a single family member who understands and agrees with my opinion.   And I am also left with deep feelings of guilt when I tend to snap back at him at times, when all along I do know that his behavior is outside his control at times.  All I do at such times is say the serenity prayer...God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot  change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

Caught in Crossfire?

I am now of the firm opinion that anywhere I go, I am followed by conflicts!  It is so awkward to be surrounded by them all the time. And it is doubly so, when you are also not sure whether you are part of the conflict or not.  I stand on the periphery of the situation, wondering whether I could dare to enter in and risk being thrown out!

I stayed with some close friends of the family. Now like every family, this family is also composed of members with strong personalities, and while there was cohesiveness there was also a lot of dissonance. The conflicts erupted out into the open when there was an issue that all of them had strong personal perceptions on. And that is where all the underlying issues also gave force to the conflict. The situation spiraled down to a point when everyone clammed up into a high tower of hurt, revenge and silence. There was it all around....like the thick mist that hung outside the building. Communication totally broke down. Rules of the roles were thrown out of the window. There was a declaration of the kitchen not functioning, that the members could fend for themselves. People walked on egg shells.

How long before yet another confrontation happens I wonder. Where did it all start? I think it did when one member felt unsupported, and was nursing a lot of unmet expectations. She totally clammed up, wanting to hurt as she had been hurt. But instead of keeping herself open to amends, she closeted herself in a tower of silence, refusing any attempts at peace making.

Of course, it is their own way of coping, handling a situation, and who was I to interfere.. But how do I respond? Do I tell myself, you are so much a part of the family, they don't have to keep up pretenses? Or should I pretend everything is normal, and that I am blasé enough not to understand what is happening? Or just pack my bags, apologize for the intrusion in their lives, and quietly leave?