The art of settling; the art of compromise

"The middle path makes me wary.... But in the middle of my life, I am coming to see the middle path as a walk with wisdom where conversations of complexity can be found, that the middle path is the path of movement...." 

Terry Tempest Williams

This Thursday, I was leaving my principal's office after a very surprisingly productive parent/student meeting. My principal asked me how I was handling this last portion of the year, and I told him that I was learning so much: how to work with parent's better, learning to control my exuberance during conversations that particularly pissed me off, and learning to define my role in this school, after leaving a role where I was several positions in one body. That going from a position like that, to one where I am one role, has been the most difficult part for me. He then smiled at me, and tells me, "you must simply need to lower your expectations." I smiled and told him, "you know me enough by now to know that is difficult for me." We both chuckled, because we both knew that we were both right.

Fast forward to Friday night, Saturday early morning, celebrating a friend's birthday. It's about 2am and we get involved in a heavy discussion about relationships and expectations; Mr. Right, Mr. Right Now, and Mr. Fulfilling a Need that could lead to Mr. Right Now. How complicated dating gets the older we get, and do we really set ourselves up for failure with our internal lists of what we desire in a mate. The big question: do we need to lower our expectations to put a ring on it?

And this afternoon, I had the most vivid dream I have ever had during one of my naps. I dreamed that I ran into an old friend from college (This girl during undergrad was truly glamorous and had everything she ever wanted). When I saw her, she introduced me to her husband who was in a dirty track suit, who spat tobacco while we talked. She still looked the same, but her shine wasn't there like it was in college. She showed me pictures of her children and they both looked like pigs, and all I could say was, "Oh really!" I woke up soon after but couldn't help but think if she lowered her expectations or compromised to get married.

All of our relationships: work, family, dating, marriage, etc., take a bit of a compromise or even a lowering of expectations. Many of the friends and people I have met living in Kuwait didn't exactly have this country on the top of their list when looking for jobs overseas. But we settled/compromised in a way to work tax free: some people choosing to live here for a great while, some leaving as soon as their contracts expire. For those who stay, it's the things that they gain in this compromise that makes it work. To live in Kuwait you give up pork, alcohol, and in some ways organized infrastructure. On the other side, you can travel to exciting places, see the world, and enjoy the spoils in countries that allow you have the things you desire. You can also have daily afternoon naps and work late only when you need to, hired help to help you function, and a little bit of home in the array of chain restaurants located in this country (so last statement are more personal to me).

Its the same thing I believe when it comes to relationships. I admitted to myself a couple of years ago that I would like to be married, although in the back of my head I know the odds are stacked against me. Do you know that for Black women, the higher we are in our education and our lack of children, means that we are less likely to be married? I have two master's degrees and no children. The odds are truly stacked. Besides that, I also know that marriage is not promised to everyone, and I'm actually ok with that.

But I look around to the marriages I have been exposed to in my life: those who seem to have been married forever, those who do get married later in life, and those who started but couldn't quite finish. For those that worked, I know that compromise and a slight lowering of expectations had to take place, more for the woman then the guy (no offense fellas, but really). And you know what, those that work, work. Those who didn't work tried and tried until it did or until it failed. But effort was put into it either way.

Its the effort of living this life that opens you up to what it means to settle and what it means to compromise. In my twenties, I never wanted to compromise and I always wanted people to see my vision, my way. However, the older I get the more I am beginning to realize that my life was not that exciting because of that. I did some awesome things, have great stories, but because I was little uncompromising, that passion burnt me out.

As I look at my life right now, in this moment, its the shades of in-between that has made my life interesting. The more I am allowed to live this life, the more I appreciate my passion coupled with a healthy dose of complex experiences and thoughts. My conversations have more meaning, my relationships matter, and I still have a bit of myself. Will I ever get married or have the perfect job or perfect life? Probably not. But if lowering my expectations means that I get to enjoy the wonderful shades of gray that comes with living, then I'm ok with that.

Momma Said There'd Be Days Like This

"What do girls do who haven't any mothers to help them through their troubles?" - Louisa May Alcott

My Mom has a very uncanny ability to call when I need to just talk. Now mind you, I talk to my family on a weekly basis. The joys of technology and magic jack has allowed me to keep in touch with my family 8 time zones and thousands of miles away. I love talking to them on Sundays as I am getting home from work, and they are having breakfast before going to church. I even call my parents when I am about to go out of town for the weekend, as if I am just driving to Indianapolis for a meeting or a weekend. We are close. I'm actually very proud of that. 

But my mom just knows when I am having a bad day. Or a moment. Or just a thought that only she will get, or that I will get. The relationship of the mother and daughter in my experience, is one of this uncanny ability of just knowing. This week is just proof of that.

I can say that professionally, my ego and spirit took a hit this week. Mis-communication and the blurring of roles resulted in unnecessary stress that I haven't encountered since I left my crazy charter school life. And because I have issues with sharing what I really feel about a situation, or struggle to keep the, "Angry Black Female," in check, I internalize all of my anger and frustration and it comes out in the form of gastrointestinal issues. Then I get even more pissed that a small situation results in these feelings, which makes me even more sick and nauseous. 

I was determined to fix things myself. I told myself that I need to learn how to deal. I need to grow up. "Christina, you are 34 years old, deal," is what I had been telling myself. I made myself so sick that I came straight home from work and laid down because I was just physically, mentally, and emotionally worn out. And in classic mom mode, my phone rings just as I am about to doze off. I was going to let it go to voicemail, but I can't do that..... I don't want to burn in hell later.

Hello
"Hi Chris."
Hi Mom.
"You sound tired. Everything ok."
Yes Mom, just feeling under the weather. Stomach's been upset today. Just taking a nap (I swear this is all I said.).
"You know the last time you had that, you were dealing with all that stuff at that school (her reference to my last job). What's going on?"

And just like that, I tell my mom my troubles. I tell her what I did because my mom is the best BS checker in the game. I told her how I felt, and then she confirms my plan on how to deal, without me telling her what was in my head. This is common. Then my dad (yes even my dad) got into the act. My parent's tagged team me! When my dad was done, he gives the phone back to my mom to, as he put it, to bring it home. My mom makes me pull out my Bible, and read Romans 5:1-5. And she reads and we talk some more, and just like that, I feel a little better, a little braver, and confirmed about what I need to do. 

It's times like these when I know how blessed I am. Not just because I have built some genuine relationships here, but because I have parent's who pray for me and call me out on my insecurities and my bull. Even 8 time zones and thousands of miles away, I have some support in this strange land that I have started to make my home.

My fear is that one day waking up and not having this any more. But even a friend of mine who lost their mother a few years back, said that even now, the spirit of their mom just knows when they need support and some wisdom. Momma always said there will be days when we doubt ourselves, have some troubles, or a string of bad luck. But momma also always has a way to make things a little bit better. 

Game Changer

"Life is a song-sing it. Life is a game-play it. Life is a challenge-meet it. Life is a dream-realize it. Life is a sacrifice-offer it. Life is love- enjoy it."

Sai Baba

I was praying that we didn't have to play. We had six players, and I was the one that was most out of shape, the most not ready to play in this weekend's rugby tournament.

It had been a rough start to 2013 for me. I admit that I went into this "all by myself,"phase for a moment, avoiding all things social with exception to work. Its a habit that I have developed over the years for self-preservation. In addition, things were going downhill rapidly with a kid I was working with outside of work. I was hit with an awful respiratory issue that I couldn't shake, and my scale was starting to creep back up. My positive energy slowly began seeping into a negative realm that I did not enjoy. The one thing I had going on, rugby practice, being slowly put on the back burner to deal with my kid, heal myself. Instead it became the Christina Laziness Show starring take out and my television.

Then two things happened: a hookup from my local pharmacy and the cancellation of services for my kid. I went to the pharmacy after a night of hanging out with friends at a Murder Mystery party, and the older woman in a hijab heard my cough. She said: "You come here." She then peppered me with questions in her broken English: "Mucus yellow? Hurts when cough? Warm?" I nodded yes to all those questions. She proceeded to give me a box of antibiotics, cough syrup, and mucinex, all at a reasonable cost. "You rest, feel better," is what she ordered me.

The cancellation of my kid came around that same time. That was a blessing in disguise because as much as I wanted to continue (it was extra travel money), it wasn't good for him and it wasn't for me either. I went home most nights frustrated, too tired to care about anything else. When I had a week where I didn't have to see him, I felt almost sad that I was happy not to see him. I got stuff done, did my laundry, went to bed at a decent hour.... I didn't miss him or what I was doing. And it freed me of any excuse not to go to practice. Even after his service was over, and I was invited to help with another case, instead of doing it I declined. It was the smartest decision I think I ever made.

So now that my sickness was handled and my services no longer needed, it freed me to go to practice with no excuses. My personal game changer so to speak. But I wasn't ready to play in a tournament. At least I thought I wasn't.

We landed early Friday morning in the UAE, and with little to no sleep because I was nervous and a little afraid. Doubt filled my head, and of course the regular round of self-pity and doubt reared its nasty head. But I got up and prayed to God that whatever happens happen, that we will be safe, and that if he could permit, just make sure I didn't have to play. But as we all know, no matter what God you believe in, you may not get what you want, but you will get what He thinks you need.

I made some tiny mistakes in the first game but we pulled it out. The second game we played hard and had a slim lost. By the third game we had a rhythm and clearly defined areas, while by the fourth we were aggressive and pushed through. As a team we talked to each other, listened, and most importantly had some fun. And we won our division! And I had a hand in that! OMG! I didn't pass out and we waked away with some scratches, some bruises, and some minor injuries. Although we limped, we had our celebratory drinks and had a good time overall.

I wouldn't have been able to enjoy any of it if I was still sick and still trying to work with that kid. Instead, I feel as if I was being told that I can't be like everyone else and I need to enjoy my time here and get well. So here I am, trying my best to not envy what others have in regards to making extra money or being in perfect shape. Instead I am simply trying to live this life, my life, and the life I had been called to live. The game of life I think is one of individual pursuits, helped by those to help shape your thoughts and feelings. I am deciding that although it will be hard, living my life and playing the game without envy and regret will probably be the best thing for me to make it through. And ultimately, I will win this game no matter what.