Kate Soulstar\'s Journal

This has been a difficult summer for me as far as my practice, study and training have been concerned.  I have found myself short on patience, calmness, and interest.  There have been subtle and not so subtle shifts in my relationships with my eldest son, who is clearly moving from little boy to tween/preadolescent.  Dealing with him has been like trying to transplant a prickly pear cactus without getting hurt by the needles.  I find he’s far more sensitive and more easily offended than I would have ever expected.  All my peacemaking, bridgebuilding, harmonizing, and negotiating skills have been sorely tested this summer, and I have not always been successful.

My other son has issues that have made things difficult this season as well.  This son, who has autism, also struggles with obsessive and perseverating behaviors.  The first thing on his mind every day is whether or not someone will be mowing the lawn.  He is terrified of lawn mowers and particularly lawn tractors.  This has put a strain on his relationship with his dad, because it’s the very first thing he asks him about and once is not enough — he needs to be reassured many, many times.   Summer is not structured enough to help him feel grounded and some of his self-abusive behavior recurs, which adds to the stress.

On a more personal, spiritual note, I had been working on finding a rapprochement with the Catholic faith in which I had been reared and of which I still am nominally a part.  I had been exploring some issues and topics of interest with an online community, only to find that the continued negativity I encountered there to be overwhelming.  I needed to walk away, which I have.  It made me realize just how much distance there is now between what I believed and thought as a Catholic and what I believe and think now as myself.  I realized that even the meanings of some of the same words I use to describe something are no longer the same as they once were. 

I know I’ve been quiet here and elsewhere.  I can’t get on the computer as easily these days – my 10 and 8 year olds see to that.  I realize that in some ways, I’ve lost the words to convey the interior journey I’ve been experiencing these days.   But I am still here, still trying, striving and yearning to understand, to make sense of this world and my experience of it.  I may be quieter, but I am not going anywhere.

Last week, I accompanied one of my sisters to an appointment at a regional cancer hospital.  She has an ongoing battle with melanoma that she’s been fighting for the last two years and has learned that it will be an ongoing battle.  Needless to say, she did not take this too well, which was why we were there.  This hospital had an interesting affect.  There was a calmness, quiet care and compassion that prevailed, punctuated by people generating lots of fear, anxiety, and pain.  There were a number of people who were very drawn in on themselves.  While there for my sister, I encountered a number of other patients who were dealing with similar issues, and I met one who was dying.  None of my encounters really stood out for me while we were there; although, I admired the courage and serenity of the dying man I encountered there.  He and I had a lengthy, generally positive conversation about family, children, teaching and learning.

What really surprised me was just how much was taken out of me energywise as a result.  I was mentally, emotionally and physically drained.  It’s been a very, very long time since I felt that way.  I guess I wasn’t paying attention to the drain I must have been experiencing at the hospital.   It took a couple of nights of decent sleep and a concentrated effort on my part to conserve my energy to myself.  It was only after spending a good number of hours gardening on Saturday that I felt myself recover.   Talk about a wake up call to mind my practice and training better.  The next time, I need to better prepare myself before I go back there with my sister.  I am a major support for her, so it’s a matter of time before I go back there with her.  I help her better understand what the doctors and specialists are telling her, thereby making everybody’s job easier and my sister less fearful and anxious where I can. 

Talk about a pointed reminder to be mindful.

I am a member of a number of online communities these days.  While this one is my primary home, I am also active at Beliefnet and Force Academy.   There is an older woman, 70 I think, who comes from a well-educated, wealthy, upper class background, and is a frequent poster at one of these other communities.  She often makes great comments and insights, which I can really appreciate.  Unfortunately, she has a bit of an acerbic tongue and woe to those who cross her.   She recently posted about the concept of graciousness, and how several posters seemed to lack that quality.  She described herself as a gracious Southern lady, who grew up during a period of “graciousness” that now seems to be lacking.  It was an interesting post because it offered some unintended insight.   She was in as much need of her words as those to whom she directed them to needed them.  I suspect that she didn’t realize that, at least when she made her post.

It’s interesting to consider because it’s been said that upwards of 90% of communication is nonverbal.  That makes online communication particularly prone to misunderstanding, assumption, and misreading the writer’s intentions and tone, in particular.  It’s something I tend to pay attention to because of my tendency to see the other person’s perspective and point of view and to try to find common ground where possible.   Sometimes, however, that’s just not possible.  My response when that happens is simply to let the matter drop and to disengage from further conversation.  That can also result in misunderstanding too, but then it’s easier to respond rather than react because there’s less of an emotional connection or charge after disconnecting.

It certainly has been an interesting experiment.  I’ve learned that my words can have a greater impact than I’ve ever intended them to have.  I’ve learned that sometimes, no matter how clear you seem to be to yourself, others may continue to misunderstand no matter how you try to clarify things.  And that’s okay.  Sometimes it comes down to respecting and recognizing that others’ lenses inform their own perspective and response and that your own perspective gets filtered through those lenses and that affects how your words come across, their impact on others, even what the words you’ve written actually mean.  Sometimes, there really isn’t anything you can say or do to change that.  Only the person wearing the lenses and controlling the filters has the power to do that.

It’s been a very interesting experience to be able to step back and see that for myself.  It’s given me much to consider and ponder as I seek to integrate this new understanding into my continued interaction with others in this medium.