Stream of consciousness, anyone?
I've been searching my soul lately. The topics of teaching kids morality and decision making have been coming to mind a lot. And also support. How do I support my kids if what they come to own as their own beliefs differ from mine? I've been thinking about family and what that means beyond the obvious sharing of DNA. I am lucky to have a big family if you count the bloodlines and then add the chosen. I am surrounded by differing belief systems. Christians, atheists, Catholics, Jews, Humanists, Buddhists and on and on and on.
These differences could serve to divide us. But, with very few exceptions, they don't. Somehow we have found a way to love each other without judgment. Without condescension. Without a wedge. 99% of the time. But it's that 1% that has me thinking today. The one or two relationships that cannot withstand that conflict of ideas that has me up at night this week.
You've probably asked yourself, what the hell is she talking about? Yeah, me too. I don't know. I may never get to a point on this post. And I am well aware that I am vague-ing it up big time. So I am sorry for that.
I think about history. Mostly people's history. Relationships. I put a lot of value in the history of a relationship. I think about what they mean to people and if I feel them the same way others do. Or does an onion taste like a strawberry to me? I tend to feel things, you know. My mom will call me an empath. I call myself a Feelings McFeeler (it has a really creepy ring to it, right? So, that's fun.) But it serves me well in this life. My feelings help me understand other people. They connect me to this life in a way that makes the good even better. But there are times when they serve me not so well, too. They can take me out of my rational brain and force me to eat a bag of cookies (Not my fault!). They can overcome me and turn me into a zombie mom and wife. It's those times that I search for a switch to turn them off (yeah, you know, with frosting). But I can't turn them off. They are persistent little effers.
I have a tendency to romanticize things. I love this about me. Most of the time. Things like how I cry at the first snow every year and when Santa Claus comes at the end of The Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade just like my grandma does. Or how I sometimes get lost watching my babies sleep. I stare at them and try to never forget the beauty right in front of me.
And with relationships I do the same. I look back on my relationship with Jessica, my original Laydee, and I see 20 years of love sprinkled with awesome dust. Sure we had some hard times in there where we argued, like sisters do, and needed to take a breather from each other. But I know that we will ever be undone. I mean unless she murders me or something, I know we are solid until the end. I have visions of us in our Jazzies singing show tunes to passersby at the mall. It's gonna happen. But I digress. I could relay a similar sentiment about all of my people but we'd be here all day and night.
This romantic way of thinking can sometimes bite me in the ass, though. Because of what happens when things do fall apart. When I begin to wonder if what I believed was true, just wasn't. This has happened to me a few times in my life. And when I am far enough removed and through the stages of grief (because we do grieve the living), I usually come to the understanding that I had been blind to something that was obvious because of romantic thinking. Even if it was staring me right in the face. I come to realize that while I have been thinking that my onion tastes like a strawberry, the other person knew that the onion tasted like an onion. And I wonder if our drastic sensory differences can ever come together and make a delicious salad. I mean throw a little vinaigrette in there and onions and strawberries suddenly taste really good together, right? Sprinkle some slivered almonds and...
Somebody stop me with this ridiculous food analogy! I'm tired.
So that's where I am at. And you know what? Sometimes relationships come back together. Sometimes they don't. But my romantic self, my heart, always believes it's possible and dukes it out with my brain who is trying to be all logical and shit. Thankfully, for me, my heart almost always wins.
And that right there is how you barf out a stream of conciousness onto your blog.