Relationships R Us

Me sitting under an enormous, wise oak tree on School Street in Woods Hole, Massachusetts. When I go to visit my family in the summer I take a plane, a bus, and a ferry, and I like to sit under this oak tree when I have time between legs of the journey.

I kind of have two hometowns. I spent the most time growing up in Carlisle, Massachusetts, a small and beautiful town with farms, a general store (but no grocery store), and a lot of woods. In the summer, my parents and I went to a town called Chilmark, Massachusetts, on the island of Martha’s Vineyard.

My parents moved out of my childhood home a few years back, and now live in a lovely house in Concord, MA that I like to visit. (They read this newsletter - hi, Mom and Dad!) But when I visit them on Martha’s Vineyard, I am visiting my childhood bedroom, with all its memories, both comforting and challenging.

The summer camp where I attended five summers and worked five summers, and where I formed most of my ideas of How a Teenage Girl Should Be is right there, and I am guaranteed to see at least five people I know from my youth, though whether they’ll recognize me is up in the air.

My relationships with my parents have had seasons of struggle, as is the case for most people. I had to really get clear on some things inside myself before I was ready to relate to them as an adult. Those relationships get better as I get older, which fills me with a kind of starlight-feeling of joy. This visit, it was clear we are all really trying to love and be with each other, to enjoy each other and get to know each other better.

It was also weird to be back in my childhood bedroom, where I was at times both lonely and happy, scared and relaxed, ashamed and proud, and feel the flood of all those memories washing over me. It was heavy, but I knew I was safe inside who I am now, and alongside who my parents are now. I’m really proud of all of us.

A photo at Lucy Vincent Beach taken by my dad, of me and a seagull who was stalking me for food opportunities. The seagull would come VERY CLOSE when I wasn’t looking, and then run away when I turned. This happened about twenty times. I love the gnarly New England seagulls.

Last night, I went for a wonderful evening of drinks and dinner with a friend, and we were talking about relationships with parents and with partners. It got me thinking about how long the span of some relationships is, and how many different tones those relationships take over that time. I’ve been with my partner for eleven years, and only this year have we really started to work towards a way of being together that we both know can last ten, thirty, fifty more years.

It doesn’t mean those eleven years were wasted, not at all: they are one chapter of our relationship, and as with all seasons of life, there were good and bad parts. But sometimes we have to look at the way things have been in a relationship, and be strong in seeing how they need to change if it’s going to continue.

I didn’t know this until I was in my thirties, but the longer you’re alive, the more you have to choose relationships - they don’t just arrive and stay or go based on what’s “in the stars” or “who’s right for you” as a friend or spouse. We choose who we want in our lives, and they may or may not choose us back. We get to see the good and bad about how we’ve acted in relationship with people, and then decide how we want to act moving forward.

My mom recently gave me a huge compliment: she said “You approach relationships like an art.” So, as someone who approaches relationships like an art (thank you Mom), here are some things I find important in seeing the good and bad of how we’ve been in a relationship, and then choosing how we want to act moving forward:

• You have to be compassionate with yourself. This is hard, and often takes hearing the compassionate reflections of friends, partners, and coaches (hi) to learn how.

• How you behave is not who you are, and a new behavior can create a new thinking. (Credit to my therapist for this one.)

• You have to be compassionate towards other people. I find the phrase “they were just doing their best” confusing, because people can’t do their best when they’re not at their best. Instead of soothing myself with that phrase (no beef if you like it, it’s just not for me), I like to see the full context of how a person was doing when they acted a certain way. It helps me respond instead of react, because seeing the situation that way is more neutral and that allows for truer, more lasting compassion.

If you’ve made it this far, and this resonates with you, do you want to have a little chat? Not necessarily about working together (though that can be on the table), but just to touch base about a shared experience. I’m want to have more conversations that are just like “yeah we’re both having human experiences.” Maybe we’ll have a book or podcast to share with each other.

Love,

Isabel

Village Witch’s Corner

My intention this week : 

See where I want to grow, and heal my shame about not being there yet.

Question(s) I'm asking this week:

Am I holding myself to a not-compassionate standard?

What I’m reading:

Nine Perfect Strangers, a fantastic novel that is kind of about a cult, kind of about loving ourselves as humans, and kind of a meta-commentary on the experience of being a writer.

Spell of the Week:

Notice the connection between my satisfaction with my life and how much I’m working (I’m happier when I’m working more than I am right now). Grow those seeds.