Archive for the ‘Best Daughter’ Category

Why Can’t They Get Girlfriends?

Natalie Ellen Bean has a few theories of her own.  On our daily trips home from school, she can offer some pretty interesting perspectives on teenage behavior.  (That is, when she’s in the mood to talk.)  I think it’s been at least one hundred years since I’ve been in high school, so I thought it would be intriguing if she shared a few of her observations with the rest of us.  After all, she is a good little witch:)

Hi!  I’m Natalie.  While mom’s working on her next post, I told her that I would be happy to write an article.  I’m fifteen, I’m home watching Olympic hockey with my dad on a Friday night, and I’m writing an article on my mom’s website….don’t judge me:-)

I just have to talk to the “nice guys” out there who might read mom’s blog.  I have a theory that there are ultimately two types of young men on earth.  Maybe they’re like this when they’re grown-up, too, but at my age, I know that I have come in contact with both types so far.

Young men in the first group are known as the “Nice Guys.” These guys usually fall into a sub-category of “just a friend.”  Most of the time these are the boys we meet in elementary school and grow up with.  They help us through thick and thin, we can turn to them for anything, but we always think of them as “just a friend.”

The “Nice Guy” group also includes the really nice boy that we meet at our new school.  He is someone to laugh with, hang out with, and the one who “has our back” even when we don’t realize that our back needs protection.  But alas, we girls still think of him as “just a friend.”

The second group of young men are widely known as the “Real Jerks.”  These are the guys who play the “Nice Guy” role so well that they end up breaking our heart.  Either they tell us that we mean everything to them, and end up telling the same thing to three other girls behind our back, or they lead us through a long relationship and end it painfully with some ridiculous excuse.

So, girls like me can look at both of these groups and easily decide which group describes the type of young man that we want to date.  It’s obvious that we should choose the Nice Guys, right?  So why do we all get drawn into the gravitational pull of the Real Jerks?!?….I don’t understand it yet.  I’m only fifteen, and yet I admit that I have been acquainted with a lot more jerks than nice guys during my first two years of high school.  Girls my age are constantly finding themselves falling head over heels for these bad boys (who often masquerade as good guys for awhile to suck us in), while the real “Nice Guys” are standing by, patiently awaiting their turn.

WHY?!?  Why are the nice guys forced to wait around and watch us fall in love with all of the jerks?  There may be a reason for this.  It’s because the good guys ARE so nice, that we tend to push them into “the friend zone.”

They aren’t stupid.  They are well aware that we put them there, but they don’t know how to escape our friend zone without harming our friendship.  It’s not like we put them safely in the friend zone on purpose, we just had no idea that they liked us “that way.”  Because they’re so nice, we have no clue that they have romantic motives.  They don’t say anything and they don’t express their romantic interest in us, because being forward (like a bad boy) is beneath them.  So, while we are busy drooling over these jerks, our poor nice guys are in the friend zone, quietly standing by.  After all, they want us to be happy.

I have a message that I would like to share with all of the “Nice Guys.”  You are just going to have to wait it out.  I’m so sorry.  Believe me when I tell you that this cycle that I have just described is not going to end.  (At least not anytime soon, while we are still young.)  The truth is, you “Nice Guys” will always win in the end.  Whether it’s that girl that you have been friends with since preschool, or the girl that you just met at college…you will get your chance.

First, we have to date all of the douche bags before we will finally realize that you are the ones that we have been waiting for.  It’s a sucky cycle, I know.  But we girls will get through it eventually, and learn how to improve ourselves after we make stupid choices.  So that by the time we do “see” you, we will gladly take you right out of the friend zone, and you will mean more to us than any jerk would ever have a chance to.

No matter how much you guys tell us that the guy we are dating is not the right one, or that we should be treated better, this is just something that we have to figure out on our own.  Once we do that, we will be able to realize that you guys told us all of that because you were the ones that really cared.

Thanks for listening.  This has been a guest article from Natalie Bean.  I would just like to tell all of the “Nice Guys” to never surrender, never give up.

It’s Never Too Late To Teach An Old Dog New Tricks

Meet Brutus.  Brutus is over 12 years old, which makes him about the same age (in human years) as my dad.  Set in their ways, and fiercely loyal to their routines, both dog and man have zero tolerance for disruption in their lives.

My dad is very firm regarding his basic requirements.  For example, he would become very disgruntled should my mother, my sister, or anyone else have the audacity to schedule an appointment that may interfere with his morning nap.  My mom and Mary Jo may roll their eyes, but for the sake of all vested parties, both of them adhere to the known guidelines regarding Dad’s routine.

The dog has a self-centered and structured agenda, as well.   Every night at exactly 9 o’clock, Brutus stands at the foot of our bed and demands (with a series of short, irritating yelps) to be lifted onto the bed so that he may retire for the evening.  Most of us groan, but one of us will eventually comply with his incessant bidding, since none of us can withstand that unnerving bark of his for any length of time.  His bark oddly resembles Dad’s grumble when he is five minutes past his lunch time.

Dog and man are both content in their established routines.  They have no desire to change, and do not have any misgivings toward expressing a steadfast devotion toward their fixed agendas.  Anyone who would suggest otherwise can expect a fair amount of resistance (as in grumpiness).  I believe that Dad and Brutus are entitled.

As physical residents of the planet, we are often creatures of habit.  Most of us become comfortable with what we know ‘works’ for us.  Like my two favorite old guys, we are certainly entitled to continue operating within our own familiar realm when we are content with our lives.  It is only when we are not satisfied with our current experiences that we may consider approaching unfamiliar territory.

When I was completing an internship for addictions counseling, there was a popular credence toward the significance of “comfort zones.”  Encouraging clients to step out of their familiar territory was considered an essential aspect in recovery from addictive behavior.  There were so many workshops and case study sessions dedicated to the thousands of possible applications to “comfort zone” scenarios that the idea itself became superfluous.  C’mon.  What is addictive behavior if not one big comfort zone in the first place?

Addictions aside, any desire to transform your current life experience will require some measure of venturing forth into unfamiliar realms.  Fortunately, we have the benefit of time, which allows us to ease into our self-expansion at a manageable pace.

Challenging ourselves to step out of our usual patterns of behavior, even in small increments, will initiate the process of change.  Making the phone call that you have been putting off forever, holding your tongue from the usual terse remark, speaking from the heart instead of remaining silent, saying hello to that person you usually ignore, or even something as simple as taking a new route to work one morning could qualify as steps into the unfamiliar.

Personal efforts such as these will foster the opportunity for a wider perspective of your environment.  With each and every attempt to alter habitual patterns, the Universe will respond in kind.  Clarity increases and you will begin to observe things that you ordinarily may not have noticed before.

As is typical among any support system, I gleaned more wisdom regarding the process of change from fellow addicts than I ever did in studying effective ways to treat us.  Genuine clarity from someone who deliberately steps out of their comfort zone on a daily basis can offer fellow beings the most insightful and concise anecdotes.  I fondly recall one colleague’s astute observation that entrenched patterns of behavior are much like a speeding train.  When the decision is made to change course, it takes some time to adequately decrease the speed of the train in order to completely alter the direction that it has been traveling.  Recovering addicts appropriately refer to this process as the “one day at a time” approach.

We are the conductors of our speeding trains.  Unless, of course, you are like my two favorite old guys, who are perfectly content with the direction in which their trains are traveling, it is inspiring to know that our own train can be redirected, expanded, and eventually gain maximum forward motion when given the proper time and attention from us.  Just a few simple steps out of our comfort zone, when repeated over time, can eventually turn a speeding train around.

I think that I will make that phone call tonight after Brutus goes to bed:)

Coffee and Comfort

I love people.  It seems most natural for me to strike up a conversation with a cashier, another shopper, someone behind me in line at the bank, or even a woman in the ladies room washing her hands in the sink next to mine.  I do not engage in lengthy conversations with everyone that I meet.  Most of the time, a simple nod or a friendly smile is sufficient.  However, if I am waiting in the check-out line at the store, I am more comfortable passing the time with friendly banter than in silence.  I realize that there are some people who are not comfortable with this type of behavior.  I recognize and respect a leave-me-alone signal.  I actually possess one of those signals, too, only mine is rarely (if ever) activated in public.

My oldest sister, on the other hand, prefers that her ‘don’t-talk-to-me’ signal be activated and fully functioning amid the public arena.  During a long-ago shopping trip to a warehouse store with Mary Jo, she clearly expressed her preferred method of social contact.  As we concluded our joint venture to procure enough toilet paper and other household items to meet our needs for at least the next few years, I exited the store first.  When I glanced behind me to locate Mary Jo’s progress, I noticed that she seemed to be coming up fast.  On my heels in no time, she swerved her shopping cart around and rolled up right next to me as we crossed the parking lot on our way to the truck.  She looked a bit perturbed.  Turning her head toward mine and holding her gaze straight ahead, my big sister scolded me through her clenched teeth.  “I am CONVINCED that you will talk to ANYONE,” she hissed.

Jeez.

Apparently, Mary Jo did not approve of my recent exchange with our cashier.  When I asked our cashier how she was doing, she proceeded to fill me in on the details regarding all of the unpleasant circumstances surrounding her current divorce.  She seemed to have a lot to tell us while she scanned our items.  I suspect that this woman just needed to vent, and I was happy to listen and offer some comforting remarks.  Mary Jo does not go for this kind of thing.  I respect that.  I am still going to inquire about a person’s day.  Choosing to share their private circumstances with me is a chance I will always be willing to take.

Myself, I prefer to limit my personal disclosures to a select few humans of my choosing, but I am always open to new encounters.  All physical beings have a connection to All-That-Is, and this awareness will continue to fuel my desire for human interaction.

A personal relationship with Divine Source includes the intricate complexities by which each of us can distinguish ourselves as a truly unique being.  Our ability to access this common Source connects us.  We are sovereign beings who are not alone.  It is this unique property which defines our individual being and allows us to draw strength and comfort from each other.

Elegant and rich in substance, there are many forms of human interaction that can provide us with immediate access to a feeling of Well-Being.  Our openness to a connection with others is often the mother of all unexplored avenues to our own Divine and All-Knowing Self.

I am grateful.  The invitation to join an old friend and fellow witch on her back porch for coffee, a judgment-free cigarette, shared reflection, and personal exchange reminds me that I am not alone.  An unexpected text message that offers words of encouragement to renew a sense of hope reminds me that I am part of a sisterhood, and I am not alone.  And most assuredly, I am grateful for the warm and prolonged hug that is offered by an intuitive daughter, who at the tender age of 15 years, can whisper genuine words of comfort and joy to a tearful mother.

It is this beautiful expression of human nature that reminds me that I am not alone.  Neither are you, my friend.

The Good Catholic Girl’s Guide To Becoming Arrogant

There comes a time when we can no longer blame (or attribute) the course of our life to any other human being but ourselves.  If we take full responsibility for all of our decisions and their consequences, we realize that our actual experiences are chosen by us.

The one aspect that we do have control over is how we deal with all of our circumstances.  When our approach no longer serves us, we find ourselves unhappy.  Only we can make the decision to change.  Your resolve is a powerful force that will lead you to the Divine All-Knowing Self  that resides within you.  There are infinite ways that you can reconnect and remember Who You Are.  If a good Catholic girl can ’seek and ye shall find,’ I know that you will, also.  Your schedule is timely and true.

Should you wish to follow the fifty-year plan, here is a twelve-step program that I would not highly recommend…but does seem to have worked for me, nonetheless:

Step 1:  Wait until you are at least thirty-four years old before you realize that there may be something inherently wrong with approaching most things in your life based on the opinions and ideas of others.

Step 2:  Spend the next twelve months in therapy before you decide to mention to your best friend (in casual conversation) that you were introduced and exposed to inappropriate sexual behavior as an adolescent by a family member that you looked up to.  Tucking away this kind of information for over twenty years, and then having your wide-eyed best friend be the first one to hear it, really enhances the whole process.  Then have her encourage you to tell your therapist, but be sure to wait at least another six weeks or so before you work up the courage to tell a few members of your family.

Step 3 (This is the fun part):  Stay in counseling for at least the next five years while some of the people who loved and raised you treat you as a lying, possibly brainwashed, neurotic stranger.  Be prepared to continue being the subject of criticism for the majority of your family members.

Step 4:  Spend at least twelve years studying a minimum of twelve different religious philosophies before you discover a common thread that you can relate to.

Step 5:  Read every single self-help book available to mankind until you realize that you have been in the process of composing your own story the entire time.

Step 6:  Wake up one day and make a decision to stop talking about how you would like to share your experience and revelations with others.  Start writing about it instead.

Step 7:  Call your niece (who is a technical genius in all things website-related) and ask her to provide you with your own forum to share your writing.

Step 8:  Post articles on your own website as often as you are inspired to express your musings concerning the unlimited aspects of life on this beautiful, magic-filled planet.

Step 9:  Upon waking each and every morning, be overwhelmed with gratitude for discovering that you have a mind of your own.

Step 10:  Comprehend the notion that arrogance, particularly when perceived in the context of self-worth, is not a sin.  It is an individual freedom that perhaps some well-intentioned priest, nun, or religious teacher may have neglected to tell you.

Step 11:  Lighten-up in all things, remember to laugh as often as you can, and do not take yourself too seriously.

Step 12:  Enjoy your birthright.

This one’s for you, Lena.  You have your whole beautiful life ahead of you and I commend you on your early start.  Love you, baby.

Membership Has Its Privileges

Nothing generates shared sentiment more readily than motherhood.  There is a universal sisterhood among mothers in which unspoken sympathies are exchanged during any occasion that involves our precious offspring.  Durwood calls it a fellowship of “blubberers.”

Last night’s trip to the airport felt like any other routine pick-up.  Even though I had not seen James since he left for college over three months ago, it had been an unusually hectic week and I did not have the time to think much about his arrival.  Of course, I missed James and was looking forward to seeing him again.  But his flight was not due to arrive until well after midnight.  It had been a busy day already and there would be much to do the following day.  Picking him up from the airport was just one more item on our long list of things to do.

Durwood and I made it to the airport early enough that we had plenty of time to spare before Jim’s scheduled arrival time.  We were pleased to find that there were two vacant seats available in the crowded waiting area for arriving flights.  It felt nice to have secured a comfortable position in which to relax and wait.  We sat and watched as droves of airline passengers filed through the gates to be greeted by their loved ones.

Perhaps it was my current mindset, but many of the travelers appeared to be college students carrying their backpacks, or dressed in their respective university attire.  Among the millions of relatives who are traveling this holiday weekend, many are college students like Jim who are returning home for the first time since leaving home last summer.  I couldn’t help but smile as I sat watching them, one by one, while their young anxious eyes searched the crowd until sudden recognition directed them towards the familiar face awaiting their return.

Enjoying the affectionate scenes that were unfolding all around me, I allowed my gaze to linger upon a young lady who was wrapped in the tender embrace of an older woman.  Mother and daughter stood in the middle of the parading crowd of people and held on to each other in complete oblivion to anyone around them.  Time was suspended as I watched the daughter bury her face deeper into the crook of her mother’s neck.  I felt mom press her hand ever so gently on the back of her precious daughter’s head to draw her even closer as they stood together in an unending embrace.

Familiarity washed through my entire being and I felt the well of tears begin to rise.  I knew that I would have to look away from the scene in an attempt to quell the flood.  I no longer wished to intrude on mother and daughter’s private moment, so I was averting my gaze to the opposite end of the terminal when I caught the eye of another woman.   She blinked her watery eyes and smiled, apparently engaged in the same observation that I had just experienced.  We exchanged a knowing glance in a split-second connection that concluded with a courtesy nod between us.

Durwood woke up from his stupor and turned his head toward mine in time to recognize the ensuing drama displayed on my face.  One precise “don’t” look from me was enough to assure him that any potential sobbing episode had already been properly contained.

I never did get to greet young Jim upon his initial arrival into the waiting area of the airport terminal.  By the time that his plane had finally arrived at the gate, my bladder had exceeded its limit.  I had been concluding my visit to the ladies room while Durwood collected our son.  Being completely drained of all fluids, I was able to execute a tearless and joyful reunion with my eighteen year old baby boy.

As my own dear mother would remind me, “once a mom, always a mom.”  No matter what age our kids are, we will forever hold that privileged place within where our children remain our precious babies.

My younger sister Evie came over to visit this morning with Caroline and Anson.  I described the tender scene that I had witnessed at the airport last night and smiled with compassion as her eyes began to fill with those familiar heartfelt tears.

Welcome to the club, Evie.

A Good Day For Cleaning

I washed my mother-in-law down the shower drain today.  Not all of her, exactly.  There are several aspects of Mother Bean that I admire.  I just allowed some of her opinions of me to go right down the drain.  Recent unnerving opinions got scrubbed out right along with any other influences I’ve been gathering these past few weeks.  I’ve decided not to own them any longer.  Time to bid them farewell.

In last night’s post, I offered a method of discarding unwanted aspects that you may be experiencing by asking yourself if they ‘belong’ to you.  Once you make a decision as to whether or not they do, the signal strength to your Knowing Self increases.  Making the actual decision itself is essential.

While cleaning the shower this morning, I realized that I could offer you a second step in discarding the unwanted energy of others that you may have decided to ‘disclaim’ your ownership of.  It’s time to wash it away.

Today is the New Moon.  Before the moon begins its next ripening phase, it is a good day to discard any particular items that you have determined no longer belong in your current repertoire of experience.  Any unproductive emotions, opinions, or influences that have served their purpose and are no longer necessary in order for you to venture forth can be properly disposed of.  Take one last look at them and watch as they proceed right down the drain with the rest of the soap scum and mildew that has been accumulating in the shower.

Here’s the mystical part: be sure to ‘thank’ these aspects.   Appreciate the service that they have provided in offering you the opportunity to experience things that you DON’T want.  Without the contrast that these influences have furnished us, how could we know what we DO want so clearly?

These unwanted influences are only aspects of other beings.  When you isolate them, these particles are managed more effectively.  I wouldn’t recommend that you attempt to shove your mother-in-law down the drain, as much as you may wish that you could.

Have a good day cleaning:)

Mother Knows Best

The whole purpose of parenting is to raise another adult.  We teach our children how to use their inherent abilities so they will grow up to become responsible adults who are confident in their creative power.

As new arrivals on the planet, babies are required to entrust their power to grown-ups who can keep them safe.  Parents essentially hold this power in trust while fulfilling an obligation to provide young minds a secure environment in which to develop and learn how to use their own intuitive skills.

Some parents seem to have difficulty in relinquishing this power by refusing to accept that their children have grown up.  How many times as an adult have you spent time with older relatives who still treat you as if you were a child?  Depending on your current disposition, it can actually be quite comical, or irritating, to still be instructed on basic cognitive skills, as if by some miracle we have actually managed to survive this long without their constant intervention.

Durwood’s mother still reminds him to wear a hat when it’s cold outside.  I admire that he finds it amusing when she coaches him on particular aspects of his business as well, since it’s an industry that he’s had a career in for over the past twenty years.  Mother Bean is a good woman, but she always knows better than my husband.  I admit that when it comes to patience he is a much  bigger ‘man’ than me.

As a parent myself, I can relate to the occasional reluctance to ‘let go’ when it’s time.  A good witch respects the cycle of life, but that didn’t stop me from crying on the first day of kindergarten for all three of the small Beans.  When we moved James to college a few months ago, I cried even more.  He’s over a thousand miles away from home now and I still have my moments when I miss him terribly.  I do know that he is exactly where he needs to be, so I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Every being on the planet has the innate power to direct their own lives.  I’d like to think that each generation improves upon the process of holding this power in trust for children who need time and a loving environment to practice using it, even when it includes making mistakes in order to learn.  Our parents may have rightly emphasized the issue of keeping safety first, but I wonder if the task of always ‘knowing what’s best’ kept us from discovering it for ourselves.

Raising young minds makes us the keepers of a magical trust fund.  It is our job to know when our kids get the hang of knowing what’s best for themselves.