CHARMIN AND CHARDONNAY

I read about a recent study that found couples who get drunk together, stay together. I also heard about another study that showed the happiest couples are those who feel comfortable enough to discuss poop.

Well, break out the Charmin and Chardonnay!

All kidding aside, I also read an article on the website iflscience.com that talked about the types of toxic relationships that can cause marriages to fail. One of these relationships is conflict-avoidant. In this type of relationship, people don't tell the truth about what they think or how they feel because they fear conflict or rejection. They bury things and essentially bury themselves, in order to please the other person. 

I realized I have a tendency to bury things. I don't like conflict. I don't want to hurt or upset anyone. Unfortunately, I am a very sensitive and emotional person. I think and feel way too much. And when I try to keep those feelings under wrap, it can hurt. It hurts me, and it hurts those I care about when those feelings suddenly erupt, which they often do. And when the eruptions come, it's almost always at the wrong time.

Fortunately, I have a very patient and understanding husband, and he encourages me to talk to him and work through  whatever I may be feeling.

I wonder why I do this when I know it's not healthy and I know it will cause problems. I wonder why it's so difficult for me to just admit what I'm thinking and feeling. I know one of the reasons is because I really don't like conflict. And though I hate to admit it, I'm something of a people-pleaser. The thought of hurting or upsetting anyone really bothers me. But I think maybe it goes beyond that, beyond my own specific circumstances.

I think as females, we are taught to avoid conflict. We are supposed to be kind and nurturing. We aren't supposed to show anger. We aren't supposed to argue or fight. We are supposed to be the ones that keep the peace. But we do get angry. We do want to speak up, be heard, and maybe even argue a little. We don't want to have to bow our heads and quietly walk away every time. But if we don't, then we're seen as bossy or aggressive or bitchy.

It's not just women either. Men are taught to be strong and stoic. They aren't supposed to talk about their feelings. They aren't supposed to cry. They aren't supposed to be sensitive.  And if they are, then they're seen as weak. But they need to be able to express themselves, too. They need to deal with and talk about what's going on in their minds and hearts.

Of course, it isn't just a gender specific thing. Male, female, we're all taught by society to behave in certain ways. And that includes not airing dirty laundry. We're all supposed to keep our thoughts and feelings mostly to ourselves. At least in public. Then, we can scream and cry into our pillows or punch and kick inanimate objects all we want when we're at home. But it's easy to become so conditioned not to express yourself, that you don't even want to let anything out when you're at home or with your loved ones for fear that you'll be looked down on, laughed at, or otherwise rejected.

So, for both sexes, there is this unspoken rule that you don't talk about certain things or act certain ways. There is this pressure to be the shining example of the perfect partner, one who doesn't cry or argue, one who doesn't take things personally, one who never gets jealous or insecure, one who won't nag. 

Now, you put two people together who don't express themselves because they don't want to disappoint or upset the other person, and you've got a ticking time bomb. Unspoken thoughts and buried emotions can lead to resentment. And like I said before, resentment is like cancer. It poisons you. And it can poison a relationship.

Of course, I'm speaking in generalities and hyperbole . It has become more common for women to vent their anger and frustration and for men to show their vulnerability. Women are boxing and men are taking classes on how to brush their daughter's hair. Yes, we have come a long way.

But I think those generational and cultural gender lessons are still being taught and learned. It may be subtle, it may be subconscious, but it's still there. Somehow, we have to learn to let them go and allow ourselves, and our significant others to open up. We have to learn to talk about whatever doubts, fears, anxieties, and questions are plaguing us. That might mean sometimes we let out the demons that lurk inside. We have to understand everyone has demons. That no one is perfect, and that everyone is vulnerable. Everyone has a heart and soul and mind. Everyone has the right to feel what they feel, whether anger or sadness or pain. And they shouldn't have to hide it, especially not from the one person who should love and accept them for all they are. Your husband or wife should be the one person you can be yourself with, the one person who listens, who understands, who comforts, and yes, who will sometimes argue with you. 

I'm sure that people find themselves in conflict-avoidant relationships for a myriad of reasons. I'm sure there are scientific psychological studies on the subject. I'm not trying to emulate Freud. All I want to say is that it might be more common than we think because it might be a natural state for a lot of us. But it shouldn't be.

So, maybe that is why couples who can drink and talk about poop together are happier. Because there is a certain level of comfort. Drinking probably helps break down those subconscious barriers we've built. And so does talking about bowel movements. I mean, you have to be really comfortable with your significant other to talk about that!

I'm not saying you have to open a bottle of wine and talk dirty, so to speak. In fact, if you're not careful, alcohol can turn the releasing of inner demons into a scene from the Exorcist. What I am saying is that we should all open up, be ourselves, and talk about what we're thinking and feeling without fear. And we should all encourage our significant others to do the same.

I LIVED

I recently lost a family member. She had been battling cancer for years. I visited her the day before she passed, and it was quite difficult. The thin, frail body in the bed did not look like the woman I knew. She was in a coma, so all I could do was hold her hand and stroke her hair. We all knew the day would come, but it didn't make it any easier. 

Because she knew that her life was not meant to be long, that cancer was slowly killing her, it was important to her to spend as much time with family as possible. We had just had our annual family trip shortly before her death. And although she couldn't go on hikes, and she was tired and cold and not feeling well a lot of the time, she put on a brave face. I knew it meant so much to her just to be surrounded by her children and grandchildren. 


I was reading The Zahir by Paulo Coelho, and the protagonist asks a nurse if he ever thought of his own funeral. The nurse responded that he hadn't and didn't want to because it frightened him. And that is the answer most would give. 


     "But what if I could choose an epitaph? I would ask to have these words engraved: He died while he was still alive. That might sound like a contradiction in terms, but I knew many people who had ceased to live, even though they continued to work and eat and engage in their usual social activities. They did everything automatically, oblivious to the magic moment that each day brings with it, never stopping to think about the miracle of life, never understanding that the next minute could be their last on the face of this planet."


I thought about what Coelho was saying in this passage. I thought about how we are all so afraid of dying, that we forget to live. We get so caught up in doing what we think we're supposed to be doing according to the rules that society dictates, in making and spending money, in walking paths laid out by others instead of ones we created for ourselves. We become robots, doing whatever we have been programmed to do, day in and day out. Slowly, our curiosity wanes. We lose sight of our dreams. We quit believing that anything is possible. We stop watching the sunrise. We stop looking at the stars. We stop smiling at strangers and making funny faces at children. We stop taking a moment to look at the world around us. We stop being present. We stop truly living.

My family member had to face her own mortality. And it made her cherish every moment with her family. She understood that the time she had with them was precious.

Many people who have been diagnosed with a terminal illness or who have had a near death experience, develop a new perspective on life. They understand that life is a miracle, and that miracle can be taken away at any moment without warning. They don't want to waste whatever time they have. They want to watch the sunrise. They want to count stars. They want to laugh and cry and dance and fall. They want to hold their loved ones close and tell them how they feel. They want to really live.

It sounds morbid to say, but I wish we could all have a near death experience. Or at the very least, I wish we could all think about our own funerals. Face your fears, right? If we could face that fear, then maybe we could let it go, conquer it, and be able to live as we were meant to. Not as automatons, but as living, breathing, laughing, dancing, loving, curious, rebellious humans.

I often think about my own mortality. I think about my own funeral. I wonder when Death will come for me. It could be today, it could be tomorrow, it could be thirty or forty years from now. I don't know if he will knock softly or bang on my door. I don't know if I'll see him as he rounds the corner or if he'll sneak up on me when I least expect it. The only thing I do know is that he will come for me, as he comes for us all. And I want to be able to smile at him and say "I'm ready. I LIVED."

Seeing my family member dying reminded me that we are not guaranteed tomorrow. And so, we must remain present. We must open our eyes and minds and hearts and see and experience the world around us. We must remember our dreams and forget our past. We must wake up from our autopilot stupor and see the beauty of this planet and all its splendid life forms. We must let go of our egos, our fears, our anger, our regret, our sorrows, and let love fill the empty spaces left behind. We must love ourselves and each other. 

Let us not continue to be oblivious to the magic.