Tuesday 28 January 2020

Friends - the Family We Choose By Sharon Flood Kasenberg

The Family We Choose

When it comes to family
you might win; you might lose -
with our friends it's clear to see
that love's something we choose.
Your family must love you
(they haven't got much choice!),
but knowing that friends choose to
is reason to rejoice!
In spite of your glaring flaws
they chose you from the crowd -
a fact that ought to give pause -
then make you cheer out loud!
They aren't compelled to love you,
to listen or to care,
and knowing that they want to
should make us more aware
that even on our worst days
they see in us our best;
and multiply in all ways
how much our lives are blessed.

By Sharon Flood Kasenberg, January 27th, 2020

As a nomadic soul who has lived in six towns over the past three decades, I can't even begin to explain how much those few friends who have maintained contact through my many moves mean to me.

Those of you who have lived in one area your entire lives have no idea how hard it is to establish new social circles as an adult. I envy the lifelong friendships you have - the annual "gal pal" weekends and the shopping trips you take together. I haven't experienced that kind of friendship since I married three decades ago.

When you are the one who moves on, you learn how easy it is for your place to be filled. The friends you leave behind have other friends, and those friendships usually predate the bonds they established with you. While some of these people are quite sad to see you leave, you know they won't be lonely - their other friendships will soon fill the gap you leave behind. It is a thought that is both comforting and depressing - we don't want our friends to be too sad about our departure, but we secretly fear that we'll be forgotten altogether. Only rarely is the connection strong enough that the remaining parties will really make an effort to maintain more than superficial contact - and while I can't speak for everyone who has changed cities more than once or twice, those are the friendships that matter most to me.

In October, we hosted a group of friends that we used to regularly socialize with more than twenty years ago. The circumstances that brought us all together had changed, and we were all different people than we had been two decades ago, but we still valued the bonds we had forged. We vowed we would all get together again soon, and not wait for another two or three years to pass before we had another reunion.

This past weekend, we got together with one of these couples. Knowing that they'd be babysitting grandchildren in the GTA over my birthday weekend, they invited us to join them at their son's apartment so we could celebrate together. It was a casual affair - we ate our dinner together after the kiddos had been fed, and they watched cartoons while we ate and talked. They bought me a birthday present - a colour changing mug that says "Friends are the family you choose." It's a sentiment that I wholeheartedly endorse.

I like the fact that this mug starts out plain and brown, and is illustrated with a kitten and a puppy. It demonstrates just how unlikely some of our friendship pairings might be - and how when we're in hot water, and the tea of life can be a bit hard to sip - the beauty of friendship often shows itself in its most vivid hues.

I grew up in a big, boisterous family with five siblings - all very different from each other. We love each other because we share common history, common parents, relatives and genes. Other than those things, most of us don't have much in common. We live in far flung cities, enjoy varied pastimes, ascribe to our own belief systems and vote different ways. I've sometimes wondered if any of them would actually become friends with me if we met as strangers.

We love each other because we need to, and we have to - because we are family. It isn't a mark of particular pride to me that these people make room in their hearts for me, and I for them - it's what society expects from a group who all sprang from the same genetic stock and grew up in a common household - sharing bedrooms, bathrooms, squabbles over possessions, and perceived parental slights. Who but a sibling can understand your gripe about a parent without making you feel completely disloyal? They don't always understand us or like us, but they care. We can rest assured that they'll show up if we really need them, and they'll fill seats at our funeral if they outlive us.

Those friendships that last over decades and across miles are different. We bond with these people because we choose to - and because they choose to reciprocate.We don't agree on every single aspect of our lives, but somehow it's okay. Faults that might seem intolerable in a spouse or family member are more easily overlooked in someone who interacts with us because they want to. Differences in opinion are more easily set aside when we receive, and reciprocate, hospitality. It is harder to take someone for granted, or to be unforgiving, when we know they have made a conscious decision to like us, even though we might occasionally give them reason not to.

These are the people who hear your secrets and keep them. They don't judge you when you toss around loose words in frustration and anger. They stick by you when you are such a misery to be around that your husband, kids and siblings enjoy you about as much as a small piece of Lego wedged in their shoe.

They give you praise that is genuine, compliments that you never even considered as applicable to you, and pep talks that don't sound condescending. They tell you off when they need to, but never in a way designed to deliberately hurt you. They will be brutally honest at times, but never unfair.

Your conversations might be less frequent than you'd like, but they tend to come when you need them most, and you cherish them like rare and precious jewels. When you actually get to see each other face to face, no matter how long it's been, you pick up old conversations as though you chatted with them yesterday.  Although the circumstances in your separate lives may have radically changed, you always seem to rediscover what brought you together as friends, and can still enjoy each other's companionship.

In an age where technology gives us unlimited access to hordes of people who don't matter much to us, we have increased opportunities to spend time with people who don't play an everyday role in our lives - even though we wish they could. The messages my faraway friends send me buoy my spirit when I feel lonely, and motivate me to reach out to those who are in closer proximity - those people who might become dear friends...someday.

That's the crux of the difficulty for introverted nomads like me - the fact that friendships take time to establish. While I am in my limbo state - surrounded by pleasant acquaintances who have not yet won my trust and become cherished friends - I can't help but be grateful for the people who have loved me across the spans of time and distance. For some mysterious reason, we continue to make the same choice - to care when we aren't obligated to, and to love and appreciate each other simply because we can - and that is a beautiful thing.

Thursday 2 January 2020

Looking Ahead to a Year of "Perfect Vision" By Sharon Flood Kasenberg

20/20 Vision

It's easy to glance backward
when we should look ahead -
not focus on the future,
rewind the past instead!
But nothing is accomplished
when we relive misdeeds,
and endless rumination
is not what this muse needs!
Thus as new year's beginning
I'll inventory soul -
take stock of dreams and wishes
and try to gain control.
I'll list goals I can work on -
forgive those I cannot -
and tally up my fortunes;
give thanks for all I've got.
I'll count up those I love most,
and those who count on me,
and offer them affection
with generosity.
I'll carefully examine
the things I can improve;
minimizung obstacles
that I cannot remove.
In year of 20/20
I hope my sight is clear
to see opportunities
wherever they appear.
I hope in vivid detail
my eyes will always see
the beauty found in nature,
and in humanity.
May I see self more kindly,
and view others with grace;
help maximize potential
and inner qualms erase.
May I direct my focus
with utmost clarity
to just and noble causes
that fight disparity.
With thoughts more forward focused,
and sight lines broad and clear,
my aim is to contribute
to a "perfect vision" year.

Sharon Flood Kasenberg, January 2nd, 2020

Last year was a hard year for me - a difficult end to a decade that was full of change and often difficult transitions.

Ten years ago I lived a very different life, in another place and another house. I had two sons living at home, and strict dogmas that I adhered to. I lived my life with an almost obnoxious level of certainty that I was doing most things as they ought to be done.

Eight years ago I began a journey that brought me to another state of mind entirely. I began to rethink a lot of the ways I had always lived my life, putting the focus on what I really believed in my heart as opposed to what I felt I *should* believe. I moved out of my comfort zone and spent the better part of a year living in Toronto with my son, only living in my home in Kitchener on weekends. It was an eye opening year that initiated a lot more changes in my life.

Five years ago my younger son got engaged - then married six months later. Nothing bound us to Kitchener any longer; our younger son had received his undergraduate degree, and he and his wife moved to Boston to pursue further education. Our older son was between jobs and open to the idea of a change in locale. My husband was self-employed, and said he could work from home wherever we chose to live, so we decided it was time to leave the city behind and embark on a new adventure in a more pastoral setting.

Four years ago the hunt for a unique property began, and eight months later we moved to our new/old home. New beginnings are exciting, but difficult. Every time I move I feel optimistic - surely "this time" I will find my "happy place" - friendships; purpose; community. Establishing myself is always harder than I think it will be.

Life is often difficult for nomadic introverts like me. I struggle to get to know people. I hate making small talk. I don't like going through the process of "finding friends" - the feeling that I am weighing the merits of others, and being weighed in return. I hate the standard "friend interview" questions - "What do you do?" (Really? You don't work??? Incredulous stare..)

"So, where did you go to university?...Oh - you didn't finish?" (Disappointed head shake..) At that point my telepathy kicks in, and it seems clear to me that I'm viewed as someone who is boring and has little to offer. (I've paid a heavy price for a few of my earlier life choices.) My inner critic is always quick to chime in, and hard to shut up, which makes the friend-making thing that much harder still. 

My focus on finding friends stalled in the fall of 2017 when I discovered the joys of being a host mom to a Brazilian student attending the local high school. Since then we've hosted three more boys - two from Brazil, and one from Italy. I found a few friends who also hosted students, and became best buds with a succession of seventeen year old boys.

While my husband was busy working, and getting involved with municipal politics, I manned the home front - kept the boys fed, and baked copious batches of well appreciated home-made cookies. I had interesting, fun, and sometimes challenging conversations with our adopted "sons." They told me I was "a good English teacher." They made me feel useful and appreciated. They kept me sane!

While they stayed with us they were our kids. We watched television together. We argued at the table. We explored the local haunts, went on shopping trips, celebrated holidays and birthdays, took road trips - lots of upsides to the experience - but one really big downside. You love them to bits - but then they go home. We hold out hope that our Italian son will visit someday, but when kids go back to Brazil you know that unless your finances allow for frequent trips to South America, or sending plane tickets so they can visit you, your chances of seeing them much in the future - if ever - aren't great.

For the past six months I've felt lonely and rudderless without my international sons. Very few exchange students came to the local school in the fall, so we had no opportunity to host. It was another disappointment in a year full of hard revelations. I had health issues arise that reminded me that I'm not invincible and grappled with the concept of mortality as I've watched friends and family lose loved ones. I've seen aging friends and family suffer injuries and declining health.

I've struggled with my role as "the mayor's wife." (How can I keep a low profile and avoid recognition while still being seen as sufficiently supportive? How can I censure my opinions on those occasions when I'm asked for them? How do I deal with people who want to see my aging self as nothing more than an escort on an arm?)

Last year I often felt lonely, emotionally flat, unmotivated and discouraged. This year I want things to be different. I have a clear vision of what I plan to do differently to facilitate positive change.

I'm working on getting my driver's license. This is a big deal for me. Life with a narcoleptic father (who often scared my impressionable childhood self by falling asleep behind the wheel!) made me fear learning to drive, but I'm working hard to conquer that fear. I've learned that people can sometimes treat you like a lesser being when you don't have a driver's license - and I'm sick of being viewed as "lacking independence" because I can't drive myself places. When I lived in the city I didn't feel the need to drive - I could walk most places I frequently went, and if I wanted, or needed, to venture further afield there was a bus stop at the corner. When you live in a very small town and have a husband who often needs to travel you can go a little stir crazy. This is the year I take the wheel!

Driving will open up some new opportunities for me, and allow me to explore the world outside my door. As for inner exploration, I have plans to do plenty of that as well.

One of my former students helped me set up my new iPad and figure out how to use the camera and edit photos. I've discovered that I love taking pictures! For Christmas I was given a gift certificate to take a few photography lessons, and I'm really looking forward to learning some skills from a professional photographer. I've learned that life often looks better through the eye of a lens.

Another of my former students exposed me to new forms of music - jazz, Bossa Nova, classical guitar. My tastes had grown predictable, and a little musical exploration was past due. Most days now I make a conscious effort to listen to something different.

I'm going to renew my commitment to writing - more poems, more blog posts, and perhaps a few new projects in the offing. It's easy to get discouraged when you put effort into writing blog posts that few read, thanks to Google/Facebook analytics, but I shall forge ahead. I will keep reminding myself that the size of my audience doesn't matter as much as my dedication to getting words and ideas in print. My brain needs more exercise.

Speaking of exercise - I'm determined to take more walks, use my treadmill, and utilize the gym membership I purchased last fall. I don't like going to the gym alone, but I'm going to try to be diligent. I know I feel better when I move - but that doesn't always make it easier. It's time to prioritize health and fitness.

There are things I need to do less often too - like listening to my inner critic! This year year I'm buying her a muzzle! I'm going to ask for less advice, and listen harder to my own instincts. I'm going to try to worry less about things I have no control over. I'm going to waste less time on trivialities and spend more time learning things - reading books, indulging my curiosity and coming up with creative solutions to the tired old conundrums that have plagued me far too long. I might even find a few new friends that way.

For too long, I have sat on the sidelines, watching life unfold around me without much participation. Some way, somehow I have to change that.

It's time to stop musing and start doing. It's time to contribute more than words to the world around me.

It's time to put a difficult year behind me and follow my vision into action. Wish me luck : )