Monday, November 3, 2014
I had a very nice time this past weekend. I went out on both Friday and Saturday
nights. I went to dinner at my
friend Carol’s house last night. I
also volunteered some of my time on Saturday night in support of the Phillips
Eye Institute Foundation’s annual fundraiser. So why did I feel so sad last night when I arrived
home? Perhaps it is simply a
matter of all the change that has unfolded in my life in the last many
months. I don’t fully know.
I think that sometimes it’s a bit difficult for me to remain
so ‘on’ in my healing process. By
that I mean it can be difficult to maintain immense momentum in a healing
process if you do not simultaneously counterbalance such deep work with regular
light-hearted fun. Yesterday was a
good example that illustrates the necessity for balance.
I took time on a Sunday to attend a short presentation (90
minutes) on the subject of end of life issues. It was offered at the Basilica of St. Mary. I found the presentation informative
and thought provoking. After the
presentation was over I sought out the presenter. I chose to attend this presentation because the issue of end
of life care and planning is something that has occasionally been on my mind in
regards to my relationship with my father. I do not feel comfortable seeing my father again unless
there is some sort of healthy resolution to the issues that bedeviled my
childhood.
I have been very committed to my own healing process for
some sixteen months now. Not all
people who face such tremendous dysfunction as I did in my early development
will necessarily overcome the impacts of such dysfunction. And even those of us who are strong
will occasionally grow weary and need to find the equivalent of a rest stop as
we travel on the path to a better life.
I do not feel as if my healing process has completely
stalled. I still have enthusiasm
for what I am doing. I still have
drive, energy and an extensive network of support. October nonetheless really took it out of me. Near the end of the month I temporarily
felt some immense fear that I would lose much of the progress I had made. But I realize that was distorted thinking. The outer reality of my life might have
appeared fairly fluid and a little shaky. But my own internal focus remained. I was determined not to be unduly swayed.
And yet I still feel sad. It must be the confrontation with my family of origin which
took place this past week. It
ended in the same way it always has.
It ended in stalemate, recrimination and anger. So I very deeply realized I simply have
to move on now. I can’t keep
repeating old patterns.
......
What Germany Means
Last week I wrote of my intention to write about Germany through the month of November. I thought I would start the process of writing by providing a bit of an introduction to my own background. Some of this can be found in the earliest of my writings here on my blog.
My parents met in the summer of 1970. My father was studying in Vienna at the time. He met my mother-to-be while exploring the familial ancestry of his own mother. They married a fairly short time later. My parents were married on December 29, 1970.
I enjoyed the great fortune of traveling to Germany several times during my childhood. I thus never lost a firm sense that my parents came from two different (and yet simultaneously similar) worlds. Both of my parents grew up in rural communities. My mother came of age in the decades immediately after the cataclysm of World War II left Germany in ruin. My father grew up in Arkansas in the 1940s and 1950s. Anyone who has some familiarity with the American South knows that the South, as a region, has never been an especially politically progressive part of the world. For example, Little Rock, Arkansas was the site of the forcible integration of Central High School in September, 1957. As you would reasonably expect the influences my parents were subject to in their own childhoods played a role, from what I can tell, in who they would become as adults.
I have never held dual citizenship despite my German mother's citizenship. I was born 'at the wrong time'. Yet despite the fact that the law doesn't recognize me as such I nonetheless feel as much at home in Germany as I do here in the United States.
Post Script
Fifty Day Challenge, Days #38 (11.2.14 and #39 (11.3.14)
Day 38:
Day 39:
......
What Germany Means
Last week I wrote of my intention to write about Germany through the month of November. I thought I would start the process of writing by providing a bit of an introduction to my own background. Some of this can be found in the earliest of my writings here on my blog.
My parents met in the summer of 1970. My father was studying in Vienna at the time. He met my mother-to-be while exploring the familial ancestry of his own mother. They married a fairly short time later. My parents were married on December 29, 1970.
I enjoyed the great fortune of traveling to Germany several times during my childhood. I thus never lost a firm sense that my parents came from two different (and yet simultaneously similar) worlds. Both of my parents grew up in rural communities. My mother came of age in the decades immediately after the cataclysm of World War II left Germany in ruin. My father grew up in Arkansas in the 1940s and 1950s. Anyone who has some familiarity with the American South knows that the South, as a region, has never been an especially politically progressive part of the world. For example, Little Rock, Arkansas was the site of the forcible integration of Central High School in September, 1957. As you would reasonably expect the influences my parents were subject to in their own childhoods played a role, from what I can tell, in who they would become as adults.
I have never held dual citizenship despite my German mother's citizenship. I was born 'at the wrong time'. Yet despite the fact that the law doesn't recognize me as such I nonetheless feel as much at home in Germany as I do here in the United States.
Post Script
Fifty Day Challenge, Days #38 (11.2.14 and #39 (11.3.14)
Day 38:
- I attended a discussion on issues associated with the end of life presented at the Basilica of St. Mary
- I enjoyed the sunshine
- I took a day off writing
Day 39:
- I exercised at the YMCA
- I met with a dietitian to consult about my nutrition
- I met with representatives of Allina Health about my work interests
- I attended my German class
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