Pandora's Box

“I just feel like I can’t get a break!” My girlfriend was discouraged - she had her fair share of hardships in her 30-someodd years of life. Life felt so unfair (as it often is) and she didn’t want much - just some space to breathe….and be happy.

Have you ever felt crushed under the weight of life--like you are squashed under a heap….one thing….and then another…and….yes….another. Health problems….car problems…..kid problems….love problems…..the faucet breaks….then the toilet…..then you spill your coffee on your white carpet…you get a call from your child’s teacher… you forgot a credit card payment….your X let you down….again….. There have been times in the last five years where no amount of tagalongs, ice cream….or even wine could take the stress away (but oh I have tried!!)….

When it seems the whole universe is against you, how do you hold on? How do you not get trampled under the weight of the world?? I had to ask myself, What keeps me going when I am running on fumes???? The answer is Hope --the hope that my struggles are only for a season….that life will be beautiful again…..I will laugh again….Hope that I will be okay. The hope that an argument with my man is just a disagreement and not a sign…..the hope that my finances will someday improve….the hope that Junior will listen to me and not buy that crazy-fast motorcycle (hey….a woman can hope)….

A couple of weeks ago, I was reading a book that mentioned the myth of Pandora. It’s been a while since I’ve studied mythology, so being the expert Googler that I am, I Googled Pandora myth. Now, we have all heard of the term, “Pandora’s Box….” and to the best of my recollection, it seems to be used in terms of opening a can of worms…..but the story of Pandora is way more than one of a foolish girl whose curiosity got the best of her….the story holds the key to coping with all of cruddy stuff life sometimes throws at us….the key to dealing with the unfair, the harsh, the things that beckon us to become bitter.

We have to start with Prometheus…..who saw man shivering down on Earth at night, eating raw meat and generally being miserable. Prometheus felt sorry for men so he arranged for them to have fire. That all seems nice enough…..except that the Gods up on Olympus had forbidden man to have fire as they believed that man would misuse fire and destroy with it. Prometheus knew that men would misuse it, but thought that the good outweighed the bad…..so he tricked Zeus and smuggled fire from his temple inside a hollow fennel plant (fennel is so versatile). Zeus was livid……absolutely livid that his will could be so blatantly disobeyed, so he sought to punish Prometheus and man.

Zeus called Aphrodite to pose while Hephaestus made a clay figure of a woman. He brought the statue to life and granted her with gifts….beauty, charm, cunning, wit, eloquence, deceit, skill, and curiosity. Zeus gave her an urn and said she was to never open it. Zeus offered Pandora as a wife to Prometheus. Prometheus (a pretty sharp cookie) knew it was a trick and declined…..but his brother (not the sharpest crayon in the box) took Pandora as his wife and they settled down in the countryside in a cute little ancient bungalow with a white picket fence…..and all was well in ancient times….. That is…..until the urn started to call her like an opened package of Oreos in the pantry. I can see her now…..walking up to the urn….walking away…..sitting on the couch….reading a book….walking back to the urn….thinking maybe one quick peek (you know……trying to get away with eating only one of the Oreos in the package)….just a quick peek…..and she opens the lid…..nothing happens for a second or two…..her guard lets down…..and then……all of a sudden….every hardship, every calamity, every evil imaginable rushes out of the urn to run amok on the earth…..toil, greed, illness, trickery, theft, mistrust, disloyalty….murder….pain…. all escaped. Panicked, Pandora tries to close the lid quickly, but her fingers fumble and the calamities are flying out so fast! Finally, she gets the lid secured on the urn……only one evil left in the jar…..hopelessness. Utter hopelessness did not escape - leaving hope as the only defense against the hardships of this world. Hope.

There are times that I do not embrace hope…..that I lose sight of hope….that I wallow in the unfairness of life….in how hard life is sometimes. But then….I see it….the bright light of hope at the end of the tunnel….just a pinpoint of light sometimes. But I know that hope never fails if I entwine myself in its safety….if I refuse to become bitter….if I don’t harden my heart to hope. That is what gets me through - Hope.

GlitterBall!!

The Man gave me a big basket of goodies for Valentine’s Day. I do so love presents and his basket containing individually wrapped chocolates, bookmarks, tiny books, bubbles, picture frames and a Ray LaMontagne CD filled my love tank to overflowing.

My favorite gift was a simple bouncy ball. As I unwrapped the ball, pink glitter caught my eye (I do so love shiny things). This man knows the way to my heart…..chocolate, music, and all things sparkly!! The Man held the ball and instructed me that this was no ordinary, shiny, glitter-filled bouncy ball with a heart in the center--it had meaning to it. He bounced it against my floor really hard, caught it and held it up for me to see. He said:

See the glitter swirling around the ball? You can’t see the heart can you? This is like my heart. Sometimes things get a little crazy and you can’t see my heart….BUT….if you wait a few minutes, you’ll start to see the outline and then the shape of my heart. Once things settle down, you’ll be able to fully see it again. This is a reminder that when those times come, all you need to do is wait…..just a bit…..and you will see…..my heart.

Isn’t that just how life is??

Sometimes, that is the hardest part for me…..the waiting….the settling….the knowing that if I can just wait a few minutes (or hours or days) more, the raw emotion wears off and the truth of the matter can be seen. I am a woman of action - - I want to fix things - to reveal things - to understand things - - to just flippin’ DO something to make it all better!! Time and time again, I have to learn the lesson of allowing things to “settle.” Sometimes I learn by success…….but sometimes I learn through failure. When I act upon that raw emotion, I am running into a situation blindly - - blinded by my fears….by my emotion. Raw emotion fuels my actions like dried leaves on a campfire…..making a big fiery show….but no real substantive contribution.

My horse trainers, Bill and Linda Black in Spiceland, IN imparted to me a principle of moving cattle ahorseback--let the herd settle and see what happens. When you try to move cows when things are charged with energy, the heard scatters and you lose control of the situation. Conversely, when you let the herd settle for a bit, you can influence the direction in which they move. Simple principle…..but yet so hard to do for an impatient woman who craves instantaneous results.

Every time I pass by my glittery bouncy ball, I throw it on the floor, catch it, and watch the beautiful glitter engulf the inside of the ball…..and then reveal the heart…..my man’s heart…..and I feel loved.

C is for.........crushed!!

A “C”??????? Really???? Not an “A” not a “B” not even a “B-“ but a flippin “C??” I scan the professor’s comments over and over again. A “C”???????? There were a total of 4 A’s in the class and I think around 8 or so B’s and I got a “C”? I scan over the comments for the 150th time. It’s not my best work, but it certainly wasn’t my worst. The comments, although plentiful, didn’t seem to be “C” comments. What did the people who got A’s and B’s do that I didn’t??

What is a perfectionistic woman to do??

Studying has taken the place of organization. Mail sits in heaps on the counter, dishes are piled up, carpets are unvaccuumed and I don’t even want to address the science projects in the back of the fridge. All in all……..school is totally kicking my butt!!

It seems as if the entire day is mocking my resolve to give myself a break! Even my jeans were way too tight today (after weeks of food revelry of Super Bowl and Valentine’s Day)….it’s Fat Tuesday and I feel just that……fat!!!!

A “C”?????

It’s been a l-o-n-g time since I have subjected myself to the letter grade system of judging the worth of my writing...... I am all for evaluation - - as long as I get an “A.” But a “C”??? It’s history for goodness sake…..not math…..not science!

So what now?? How do I approach this giant, rounded letter?

Snowplow

Nothing screams “You are alone!” like a snow covered driveway needing to be shoveled. My driveway is steep…..so steep I have to walk down my lawn sometimes to the mailbox to keep from slipping. My little powder blue Audi A4, Carlito, sits low to the ground and, like me, is better suited for sunny days and the beach than 30 degrees and snow.

The snow plows left giant berms of grey ice and snow in front of my driveway. Snow drifts of alpine proportions covered everything in a blanket of white. You couldn’t even tell where the driveway was. Carlito is a german-engineered sexy love machine….pretty to look at….fun to drive……but no good at plowing through snow and ice up a steep driveway.

Shoveling snow is a new thing for me. When I was married, we had a gravel driveway and a tractor, so there was never a need for a snow shovel. I had no idea about the techniques and tricks to shoveling a drive. I look at my neighbors’ pristine snow free driveways and wonder, “how in the world do they do that?” Secretly, I was hoping that I would wake up to a snow free driveway - much like the story of the shoemaker and the elves….you get up and voila….work is done. But alas, I looked out the window and *sigh* snow still there……Carlito still parked on the street.

I pull on my snow boots, find a hat and a pair of gloves and began to dig out my driveway. The first 5 minutes were okay - - I kept seeing cars pass by…..people waving…..and wondering why they don’t offer to help….after all…..I am a single mom…..a girl outside shoveling a mammoth driveway…..where is chivalry…..servanthood…….sympathy?? Remembering that this is my driveway and my responsibility…..I continued to shovel….scrape….and slide snow from one end to the other. *sigh* “I hate being alone” repeats in my head over and over again…..I want to be a part of a team, not a lone ranger. The sound of the snow shovel scraping concrete is a reminder that I am responsible for myself…..that if I don’t shovel this driveway, it won’t be done…..that when the rubber hits the road….I have got to take care of me.....because no one else will. I wish I could say that this is an empowering feeling, but quite honestly, I just wanted to sit down in the snow in my driveway and pout. But what good is pouting when there is no one to pout to…..just me, the snow shovel and two tons of snow.

Seeing that my pity party is just wasting time, I try to at least get a good workout while scooping, scraping, and shoveling. Abs, hips and thighs all got their workouts and I started to sweat. Forty-five minutes later, half the driveway is done. I can pull Carlito in the driveway and be glad that I finished.

Red Velvet Cupcakes

Celebrations are important for our soul!! They are times to revel in joy…..to be satisfied….even if just for a moment….to let our guard down…to put down our list of improvements and just…..be!

Last week, a first-time home buyer I was working received notice that their offer was accepted! Hooray!! I love it when the stars align and things happen as they are supposed to. All too often, life gets complicated - very, very complicated.

This may be a shocker, but I have some very perfectionistic tendencies (yes, I know…I hide it well). My issue is not that I expect perfection in others; my issue is that I expect perfection in myself. I mentally berate myself from everything from the size of my thighs, the lateness of my arrivals, my love affair with the snooze button, my spending, my clutter, my disorganized organization….

I step into the shower.....and remember……I haven’t recaulked the tile.

I walk into the closet and see the pile of dry cleaning that I have yet to drop off.

My fall planters are still on my front porch.

My office……well……it’s the epicenter from a paperwork earthquake.

And of course, my personal favorite….”Becky Pruitt….you said in your blog that you resolved to take more bubble baths…..and you haven’t taken a single one…you are supposed to relax…and be more stress free….and you are failing miserably!!!”

Truth is, I would NEVER speak to anyone the way I speak to myself. I would never tolerate anyone to speak to me the way I speak to myself.

I could say this tendency is only within myself, but it affects my relationships with others. Let’s say that The Man implies that I will run late when we go out. I react as if he has been telling me this over and over and over……all day long. By the time that he delivers this benign implication designed to be somewhat humorous, the tape in my head has already played and replayed this message in my head - reminding me…..rebuking me…shaming me. My feelings get hurt and I withdraw….. and he is sitting there wondering…..what the heck just happened?? I was just kidding with her……

Is this just me??? Am I the only one this happens to????

What does this mean for me?? To be more mindful of the thoughts I allow to percolate in my brain. I can leave room for beneficial self-correction, but do not have to subject myself to self-flagellation. I can allow myself to fail sometimes (I have a tendency to refuse to do things that might mean failure) and enjoy the process for what it is. I can celebrate my successes….I should celebrate my success without feeling like I have to minimize them……celebrate them fully….thoroughly.

So…..last week, after I received the news…..I stopped by Holy Cow Cupcakes and bought a red velvet cuppie. I walked through the door of my house…lit the fire and the candles in my living room…..poured a glass of wine….and devoured the cupcake moment by moment….bite by bite….and allowed myself to breathe…and to revel in joy.

Galoshes

When life rains down on you, put on your galoshes and dance in the rain.

When I was a little girl, I loved to wear my galoshes. I had to walk to school every day…..and I loved the rainy days….those days meant for my clear, domed umbrella and….of course, my galoshes. No puddle was unexplored…unsplashed….no curbside river was left untouched. In my galoshes I was invincible…..safe…..unfettered by the rain.

Fast forward three and a half decades…….I am standing in the home of the X….watching my bride-to-be daughter give direction to those of us setting up for the wedding….she is so beautiful…and excited.


The wedding-weekend weather seemed a bit sketchy…..cold…and rainy….so I packed my cute black galoshes with bright red cherries just in case the reception tent became a muddy mess (yes, I was a girl scout….always prepared). So……on Friday, there I was standing in the home of the X….or more appropriately CLEANING the home of the X….the home where I raised my children…my dogs….my horses….my cows…it seemed that my X was neither a boy scout nor a girl scout as he certainly was not prepared for 160 people to descend upon his home in 24 hours…….but *ahem* that’s why he is the X. But in the end, I love my daughter more than I want to see my X squirm so I cleaned…and cleaned and cleaned… (I am expecting a nomination for sainthood from the Pope any day now)….. and not surprisingly, without an ounce of gratitude or even a simple thank you from the X…..

The stress level begins to mount……

Having a house full of people was a great distraction to me that weekend…..I got to cook….to entertain….to open wine bottles I’d been saving (gotta love that Rockpile Zin…..yum!)…. It also gave me an excuse to show up for the wedding just in time to help the daughter into her wedding dress……she was absolutely stunning! The most beautiful bride I have EVER seen!!!

The X’s house is full of people…..it’s cold outside…..very, very cold outside…so as people arrived, they gravitated to the house instead of the outside chairs. Thankfully, we had prepared a separate room for my family and me to get ready for the wedding. I plugged in my curling iron and slipped on my red Jessica Rabbit dress (I hadn’t intended to dress as the “Hot Mother of the Bride” but try finding a red semi-formal dress without vavavoom!). I slipped into the powder room to put on my makeup. Suddenly, someone burst into the room….all bouncy with a high-pitched over-the-top girl greeting…..it was an old “friend” of mine (you know….the one I wrote about in my last blog…the one who ditched me to hang out with my X)……I tried to match her excitement…..to give her the benefit of the doubt…..to reconcile my feelings with how she was greeting me……I hugged her back and resumed making myself forever-photo ready.

Walking into the dressing room, I noticed my curling iron was unplugged…..my things had been moved…..and saw that my “friend” had taken over my space. Furious, I walked back out of the door……heart pounding…..palms sweating…..and stopped in the hallway…wondering what to do. The home was now completely full of people and there was nowhere for me to go……what to do…what to do…… It hit me…..I am the Mother of the Bride… Turning around, I opened the door and walked back in (Pale Rider playing in the background of my mind)…..I firmly but calmly ask my old friend to please find another place to get dressed…and told her how I felt about her ignoring my emails and Facebook requests. Did she hear my voice quiver? Did she have any idea how awkward this was for me….did she even care?? Now I feel like a jerk……I am stressed to the max…..I need a drink….well….maybe drinking isn’t a good idea…..

Pulling myself together, I head to the center of the house where friends and family were congregating. There was a sea of people and all seemed a blur….noise all around me…..people all around me…..stress….stress…stress……I look around and saw a familiar pair of warm brown eyes watching me….loving me….waiting for me….. The Man puts his hand on my shoulders and I breathe a sigh of relief. This is going to be okay……

The wedding was beautiful……my daughter is now a Mrs. and we head to the reception. Although I won’t bore you with all of the crazy details of the ceremony, photos, and reception blunders…..I will tell you that I now call it National Lampoons Wedding Week….as there was craziness after craziness after craziness….but like Clark Griswold’s Christmas decorations…..all turned out beautiful.

Sitting in my chair at the reception, drinking a glass of fine red wine….I reflected on the day……wondering how I was going to get through the rest of the evening with me on one side and the X on the other…..with His and Hers family and friends on either side of the dance floor. Then…….I remembered…..I had brought them after all……my cherry galoshes are under the gift table….waiting. I looked at the Man and said, “It’s time for the galoshes.” Slipping them on was such a freeing moment…….galoshes with a stunning red dress……that is soooo Becky Pruitt…… I grabbed the Man’s hand, stepped out onto the dance floor and splashed in every puddle life gave me that day.