What used to be Hogwash to me....

Florissant in January

I used to think that all that stuff about soulmates was hogwash! Some myth or fantasy that movies, songs, and hopeless romantics fed us to keep us searching for the impossible. To spend our lives in and out of relationships on an endless snipe hunt. It didn't matter that my mom was sure my stepfather was hers, or that my sister has encountered men that were that for her--despite the thwarting of time or place that ultimately derailed the relationship. It didn't matter that I love movies like The Notebook, Sliding Doors, Serendipity, Somewhere in Time, and Return to Me. I thought the concept of soulmates was a bunch of hooey!

I came across this article by Dr. Carmen Harra in which she says that "we're biologically designed to fall in love," and discusses the 10 Elements of a Soulmate. She astutely notes that, "we find ourselves skimming through more relationships than we'd like in order to find that one person who can truly open our locks." Long before I found this article today, I have had the feeling that Zorig, from our first interaction, has had access to my operator's manual. That he holds the keys to my heart and soul. I could not make sense of how he was able to open me up, to gain access to parts of myself that even I was not able to see or know. Everything about the becoming of us has been a mysterious and mystical experience. I live in the beautiful shade of it's awe each and every day. To say I feel "high on life" would be an understatement. 

For those that have known me a long time, you know that i ended a marriage last year after 14 years, and 16 years of being together. While a good guy, he was far from a soulmate. It's difficult for me to admit that we weren't even friends. I don't know that he ever knew me and can't remember the last time he tried to know me--internally. 

So to have Zorig say to me recently, "I want to discover you"......well, it's bit like a parched farm field getting a slow and easy, drizzling rain. One that it has waited years to feel soaking through the layers of its crumbling grit and sediment. With new rain of interest, and a steady and careful gardener, new life has taken root and I find myself blooming and opening up in ways I never could have predicted. 

Oh how he makes me smile!

Yes. I have been converted. I do believe this man is my soulmate. That we were destined to meet.... It was written in the stars......That we were made for one another.....and ALL that other romantic crap!

According to Dr. Harra, the 10 Elements of a Soulmate are as follows (with my commentary afterwards):

1. It's something inside.
   It IS hard to describe. "I love you"/"bi chamd hairtai" never seems like enough. I want there to be a bigger way to say it, a deeper way. There should be more words to describe it.......I'm yet searching for them. 
2. Flashbacks.
   This is the only point of the 10 that doesn't feel like a clear match. However, Zorig wished for me before he met me, and I can't explain what drew me so strongly to his country above all others--but it did. And from the moment he arrived to the US in December he felt so familiar to me. Like home.
3. You just get each other.
   Despite the cultural and language divides that exist for us, we DO get each other in an easy and surprising way. 
4. You fall in love with his (or her) flaws.
   I don't know that I want to call them flaws....perhaps differences? I miss intensely those couple of things that I found odd or strange during his visit--like eating oranges at midnight. :)
5. It's intense.
   Yes, it is. It has been an all-consuming experience. The best analogy for describing what its done to me--is to say I feel a bit like the Grinch. Loving this man AND being loved by him makes me feel as though my heart has grown, expanded, within my chest. I have a greater capacity to give and to love. I dare to say it is softening my rough edges. 
6. You two against the world.
   It certainly is. Who meets and spends just six days with someone and pursues a life and future together? He said it was love at first look for him--I took a couple months to come around. While I am happy to say that I've met with little resistance from family and friends, what we are doing is not your ordinary love story. When you live on different continents there is no middle ground, no compromising option. I decided in October, assuming his visit here was positive, that I would move to UB. He never asked me to--I offered because I knew in my gut it was the correct path. 
7. You're mentally inseparable.
   Definitely. We often write the same sentiment at the same moment. There is something unseen that connects our thoughts, our minds. 
8. You feel secure and protected.
   I have never felt this safe with a man, besides perhaps as a little girl while with my father. I have complete faith in this man's ability to care for me. I am proud of my strong independence. Always have been. But there are no words to describe how it feels, after years of standing solo and being in charge of so much, to allow myself to lean into this man that is so strong and confident. I know he will catch me if ever I fall. I have no doubt. 
9. You can't imagine your life without him (or her).
   And so I move to Mongolia. Enough said. 
10. You look each other in the eyes.
    From that first meeting in a dining room at the Edelweiss Hotel in Ulaanbaatar, we've been looking each other in the eye--searching and analyzing what is inside the other. To discern if what was drawing us close was real and true. Because the eyes are a window to so much more...

So that old saying..."never say never"...I strongly encourage you to heed it's message. If you aren't open to changing your mind about someone, something, some place, etc......then you may miss out on, well, who knows what. 

Habits

The FVS Prairie as backdrop

I've been recognizing how much of daily life is about habit. My alarm goes off, I check my email from bed, check in on Facebook, and listen to the birds chirping outside from the warm underneath the covers. After a few minutes, I get up, turn the coffee on (usually prepped the night before), and shower. I enjoy coffee while I blog or journal (or finish the reading for class--if not done the night before), then I make breakfast (almost always including 2 eggs), and then begin to get ready for the work day (what to wear, do my hair, collect stuff in my bag for the day, put on makeup). 

Yes, I exist within a structure of habits from my morning routine to how I park my car in the carport (I back in 90% of the time) to how I get ready for bed at night. The fact that I live solo for the time being means I can do whatever I want, whenever I want. 

But ALL of that is about to change. Dramatically. 

So I was reading a little about habits online. This guy who keeps a blog for Psychology today argues that we have habits so that our brains are freed up to do other things. That's certainly true--my brain is all over the place while I'm walking through my routines. 

That said....in about 67 days, I'll be living with one or two other people (depending on Enji's schedule)--one or two male creatures. We will have one bathroom. This is not the end of the world and not bad--at least I'm not sharing with two other women!!--but it will change the routine of my morning, and the routines of my life. 

In the kitchen, 95% of everything will be different, foreign. The 5% being the familiar wolf coffee mugs (a gift from Fawn when I first moved out on my own) I've shipped and being able to eat eggs. I'm moving to a tea culture. I can, of course still have my coffee and have even shipped myself a number of bags of Community Coffee (ground, dark roast--in case you are inclined to send a care package down the road). Then there will be the navigation of the perhaps similar, but most likely different packaging of breakfast meats. Zorig recently asked me if I could "make bacon"? I responded by saying that I knew how to COOK bacon, but was unsure of what "make" meant. I guess I'll have to fill you in after I arrive on that one. :)

Another guru (courtesy of NPR) agrees that habits are what create free space for our brain. Yes, humans do the same things in the same way, provided they are in the same environment. That said, come July it's safe to say my brain will be working hard to create new routines as a result of new surroundings, a new culture. If you know me--you know that I'm a planner, an anticipator, a Type A personality. Even my own family members chuckle at me--if you were coming to visit, I'd have a printed or written itinerary for you upon your arrival. No joke. 

My impending new reality--new day-to-day life and routines--are NOT something I can plan or prepare for. Or rather, beyond having an open mind and compassion for myself and those around me, there is nothing to DO at this time. I have to get there, then work to exercise my brain into an array of new habits and routines. I suspect that within a number of months, I'll be settled into my new web of routines and habits. But they will be different from what I've known in America these past 41 years of life. 

I will leave you with a random list of worries. Things that have popped into my brain and that I spend some of that freed up brain time pondering, while I make breakfast:

• Guidebooks say to not drink tap water. But I won't be a tourist, so can I drink the tap water? Or not?
• How will it go adapting to not have a clothes dryer? Will my clothes be crunchy?(Also won't have a dishwasher...but am not worried about that.)
• With carpeting...I like to sit and lie on the floor. Our apartment in UB is all hardwood flooring (not necessarily uncommon)--so should I ship my exercise mat for floor seating?
• The meat in Mongolia is tough as compared to US standards. This will sound like a judgement and I don't mean it that way. We, as Americans, are accustomed to soft, tender meat and generally shy away from fat. Mongolians eat a lot of beef and mutton--both of which I'm good with as I generally eat Paleo and a meat-heavy diet is FINE by me--but they eat older animals and the meat is chewy and tough (again...per our American standards). While Dad and I were on our trip last summer, every meal was followed by a few minutes of flossing. 
• The beds in Mongolia were hard! Or at least the ones that Dad and I stayed on in the hotel and in the ger camps. Now...the good news is that I prefer a hard to a soft bed (I'm a 75 on a sleep # bed), but I did discover that there is such a thing as TOO hard--and that's coming from a girl that has opted to sleep on the carpeted floor during holiday or hotel visits. No joke!
• What about finding a salon to get my haircut? And purchasing a hairdryer and curling iron that are for 220v?
• I use Netflix and Amazon A LOT. I won't have these over there. Think about not being able to order anything and everything under the sun and having it shipped in t a couple of days? Yes--imagine that reality.  
• I won't be driving myself to work....so I can't be lazy in the morning and make it up on the drive. I will rely on probably a car service to get me to work and back home again--so I will have to be organized in a different way than I currently am. (And let's face it--not being independent in a transportation way will be a new situation as well.)
• Certainly have to find and join a gym to be sure and get my exercise! I don't remember seeing a single soul running the streets of UB for exercise--and I'll be sticking out enough as it is--don't need to add that to the list. :)

Yes, I have many things I wonder about in regards to my new life in Asia, in UB. I am beginning to get the question, "Aren't you scared?" more and more frequently. From students, from friends, and most recently from the woman that does my taxes. My answer is always, "yes, of course I am scared." That's just how it goes when you do something like this. You learn to live with your fears. Learn that they won't kill you and can only stretch you. 

Exhaustion

This will be a brief. 

Being in a long distance relationship, and one that includes a 14 hour time difference (he's ahead that far!), 6,000 miles, and an ocean--is EXHAUSTING. 

Throughout the fall and early winter, everything was in the building process ....feelings, desires, possible routes for the future....we were getting to know one another and I seemed to have endless amounts of energy. Messaging and texting at all hours of the night and day....seemed a necessity. It was my new oxygen. 

But now....this second four and a half month stint of being apart......is making me weary. Tired. Frustrated.

My morning is his night. And my night is his midday. He is a night owl which has, thankfully, allowed us to  communicate more than some. But it is incredibly tiring to be in different head spaces when we communicate. When I am sleepy and tired, he is in the middle of his work day. When I am just waking, he is in darkness, perhaps out with friends for food and drink. Even when we are connecting....we are doing completely different things and in opposite moods. Even thinking about this to explain it.....is exhausting. 

.....AND.....I feel as if I'm waiting for my life to begin.....

There is this strangely familiar feeling about it. And today while out for a run, it hit me. This reminds me of the spring/summer of 1998 and waiting to get deployed. My Public Affairs unit was notified in early April of that year that we'd be going to Hungary/Bosnia/Croatia in support of Operation Joint Forge. But we had to wait months.....before we left. Which means it was another 8-9 months from departure before we returned and could resume our lives. I can remember wishing that we'd just deploy....and get going....so that we could begin to get on with our lives. 

Yes, the waiting to depart for Mongolia, for Ulaanbaatar, for Zorig.....feels a little like that. And yet.....far more intense because this is an affair of the heart. And my heart longs to be there.......

......already.

Lost? Found? What about Determining?

On the Arkansas River near Bent's Old Fort (photo by Zorig).

For these last two months of the school year I've taken over two classes of American Literature for a teacher on maternity leave. We are reading and discussing Ceremony by Leslie Marmon Silko. The novel takes place post WW2 in New Mexico. Our protagonist, Tayo, is a half Laguna (Native American) and half white male who served in the Pacific theater, losing his cousin/best friend while there. Tayo suffers from PTSD while simultaneously fighting to discern where he fits in the world. There are multiple tensions: race, culture, old vs. new, urban vs. nature, tradition vs. science. The list goes on and on. 

As I prepare to move to Asia and consider how I will adapt into an entirely different world, our class discussions have been striking a personal chord with me. 

To be honest, I have moments where fear washes over me. It makes my heart race and I pull a deep breath into my chest, and fight against the tension that wants to pull on my neck and shoulders. While I think.....Can I really do this? My lizard brain causes my physiological system to contract, to tighten. Fear manifests itself in a physical way. 

Do not misunderstand me, my desire for this man, this newly cobbled family, this adventure and opportunity--is strong and sure as ever. But as the date of departure inches closer, those little arrows of doubt and discomfort attempt to poke holes in my resolve. It's one thing to change a job or even a career, to move from one state to another, to go back to school, and so forth. 

But the CHANGE I make on June 30th is HUGE. Though I will yet be me, everything and everyone around me will be different. Will be changed. And I wonder how I will be changed because of that reality. 

I want to share a quote with you from Ceremony. An older Mexican woman tells Tayo the following--in regards to the way some people are reacting to him and to the world at large:

"They are afraid, Tayo. They feel something happening, they can see something happening around them, and it scares them. Indians or Mexicans or whites--most people are afraid of change. They think that if their children have the same color of skin, the same color of eyes, that nothing is changing." She laughed softly. "They are fools. They blame us, the ones who look different. That way they don't have to think about what has happened inside themselves."

Why do we fear change? While we simultaneously crave it because it makes us feel alive? 

And do we really fear it....or is it simply part of our public consciousness....that something that connects us to one another? Does our lizard brain simply cause us to choose the comfortable path--to sit where we always sit, talk to those whom we usually talk to, to wear a path in life spotted with routine and

Dad & Me at the Zaisan Memorial in UB

familiarity? 

I confess, I have begun to picture myself standing on a street in UB and needing to get somewhere.....and being paralyzed because I don't know where to go or what to do. What if the car service doesn't arrive to take me home from school? Whom do I call? And will they know English? And if they don't, then what? 

I know these moments will present themselves--it's part of the process, part of what I'll have to get through to assimilate into UB, into Mongolia, into Asia. It makes my heart race to imagine the moments ahead that I can't anticipate. Everything here in the USA is easy, simple. I know how to navigate our roads and streets, how to call for help when I'm in trouble, and never even think about whether I'll be understood. Life is easy for me now. It won't be in a few months. This is reality. 

And what about the pop culture statements of "finding oneself" or "losing oneself"? In recent years I've struggled to accept the lost and found motif in human life. 

I am always with ME. I know WHERE I am and WHAT I'm doing. I don't need to go off on a backpacking trip to find myself, nor do I need to spend a day at the spa losing myself (both of those activities are great and do provide for the human spirit--I've no doubt). 

I am always WITH myself. I spend more minutes of each day knocking around thoughts and feelings inside my head, than I do most other things. And let me tell you, my skull has been overcrowded these past eight months with many voices, opinions, thoughts, feelings, worries, considerations, suggestions, criticisms. I have moments of clarity and peace. And I have days of unease and uncertainty. But I am yet Heather every one of those moments and days. 

You see, I am not lost. Perhaps I made a choice to spend my life a certain way for a number of months or years, and then opted to change my course. But I wasn't lost. And I didn't finish a degree or earn a job that suddenly made me feel found. 

No. I am determining who I am in each and every moment of my life. I decided to get my degree in English and my Masters in Library Science. I determined at the age of 21 that I wanted to move West, wanted to break out on my own. I joined the Army when I was 17 because I determined it was a way to pay for my college education while simultaneously exposing myself to a larger world. I decided to get married, and then divorced. I choose to reach out and connect with friends that are hurting, hoping to ease their pain. 

Ever evolving, my life has been no one else's but my own. With each word spoken, each target pursued, each path abandoned, I am choosing who I want to become. And the best part--if you don't like the current iteration, the next one is up to you to generate. Now. Or next week. Or next year. You see, there is always a choice. You choose who you want to be in every second of your life. 

The Mexican woman tells us that change affects us all--whether we want it or not. I am scared of the changes ahead of me. And I am excited. I want to keep faith that I will yet be myself in Mongolia, while recognizing that I will be changed by Mongolia. Over the weeks, months, and years to come, I will be determining WHOM I want to become in reaction to my new surroundings, my new family, my new friends, and all the other aspects of what this new life can offer me. This is a thrilling opportunity to grow, develop, and expand in ways I could not if I remained here in the US. But it also scares the hell out of me. 

What is something you could choose that would offer the dark and the light? The yin and the yang? The thrill and the fear?

Thinking about Holidays

Dad & Zorig on New Year's Day

 (Post started last weekend....finished today.) It's Easter here in the US and I'm enjoying a quiet day at home. The sun is shining bright and I expect I'll get outside for a walk at some point. But for now I am sipping coffee and thinking about how my life is going to change in regards to Holidays. There are the national holidays as well as the Christian ones which make it onto calendars, albeit with a politically correct title nowadays (i.e. Winter Break, not Christmas break). I'll be trading in most familiar holidays for entirely new ones. 

Mongolia is predominately a Buddhist country with 80% of the population identifying themselves as so. The remainder is made up of 5% Christian, 5% Islamic, and the final 10% don't affiliate themselves with a particular religion. From what I know so far, the family I'm joining puts itself in that final category. 

As mentioned in a previous post, Mongolia has two major holidays--Tsagaan Sar is the Lunar New Year (changes year to year based on the moon cycle), and Naadam is a sporting festival, celebrating the three manly sports (wrestling, horse racing, and archery) held in July each year. Additionally, they celebrate the New Year (Jan 1), International Women's Day on March 8, Mother and Children's day on June 1, and Independence Day on November 26th. 

Me and Dad on New Years Eve in MI

But beginning this year with my July 2nd arrival into UB, I will no longer be actively celebrating my two favorite holidays: the Fourth of July and Thanksgiving. I wonder if the fellow Americans that I'll be working with at ASU celebrate Thanksgiving together amongst themselves? Or not. Is part of moving to a new country assimilating into their cycle of holidays and leaving one's own behind? Or should one be sure to hold tight to some holidays from their home to maintain their own sense of self and/or connection to where they come from? I really don't know. This is uncharted territory. I've no doubt I'll figure it out--and I have talked with Zorig about my desire to celebrate Christmas--at least with him and Enji. 

And really, as Easter came and went last weekend, I realized that it's not so much about the holiday, but rather about getting together with family and/or friends. Sharing a meal together. Visiting and catching up on one another's lives. Perhaps playing games or sports. Having some fun together. But here in Colorado, I am alone with no family member within driving distance. I found myself a melancholy last Sunday to be so far from everyone. 

With Mary & Dad before returning to CO

On July 4th of this year I'm excited to say that Dad and me and Zorig will be departing UB for Murun in the north of Mongolia where we will take off on a one week fishing adventure on the Shisgid river. Though not America's Independence Day, it will be exciting to be in the open land of Mongolia with my Love and my Father--in search of that illusive taimen which dad is DETERMINED to catch! Then we'll attend Naadam together--Dad and I's first time--and yet another opportunity to make some great memories. 

Next holiday?.....Zorig and I will celebrate the one year anniversary of our first meeting--on July 30th. :) I'm excited about this personal holiday. 

The Difference a Year can Make

One year later--Healthy, Happy, & Strong

A year ago tomorrow afternoon I walked into the Emergency Room at Memorial North. Though I had an appointment with my nurse practitioner for the following day, the pain behind my belly button had increased and I knew something wasn't right. You know how it is.....we don't want to pay the ER copay, if it's not truly an emergency. I really wasn't sure. I called my mom and then visited the nurse at FVS  (for an informed opinion) and after a brief inspection, she instructed me that I needed to go to the ER and offered to drive me. I kindly declined the offer, I could yet drive myself. (Yes, I am that stubborn!)

I arrived and was admitted an hour later. First hypothesis was that I had an umbilical hernia. But after a CT scan, the doctors weren't really sure. There was definitely something wrong, but the view of my gallbladder was obscured by some type of liquid-like area. I knew it was going to be an exploratory surgery, but really did NOT get the seriousness of the situation until the following afternoon when the anesthesiologist was explaining the process for putting in an epidural (for post surgery pain management). This is when I got scared and I confess, I started to cry. This was serious, after all, and I didn't know what the outcome might be. 

The surgery went fine--though a little longer than expected because I had 100s of gall stones stretching from up against my liver to down behind my belly button. They extracted it all and sewed me back up. I spent one week in the hospital and then another two weeks home from work to recover. It was a scary time, but I followed doctors orders and was walking over 5 miles a day in no time and back in the gym just as soon as I was cleared to do so--about 6-8 weeks post surgery. 

But this is just the start of what has become an epic year of change for me. That health scare was what showed me that my marriage was not viable. My former husband was not, and is not, a bad man. But he did not know how to take care of me. It was more stress for me to show him what to do, than for me to just take care of myself. That was the light that began to illuminate the path to divorce. I'm grateful it was not a nasty divorce and proud to say that we both acted like the civil and compassionate adults that we are. We had a good run, but it was done. 

This is my past year in brief highlights: 

Health Scare. Recovery. Run 2014 Leadership Lab. Journalism Adviser Institute in Vegas (time with Robin). Epic trip to Mongolia with Father. Divorce. 

.......begin to open my heart to a man across the ocean..........who somehow knows me already....

Move into apartment. Begin to contemplate a life in Asia. Visit Robin in San Francisco. Sell House. Pay off debts. Zorig visits for 50 days (trip to MI, trip to ID, trip to Vegas--meeting family along the way). We confirm our path is mutual and shared. Decline contract at FVS for next school year. Adopt Mona out to her new home. Secure job in UB for next school year. Take trip to Bent's Old Fort with 11 freshmen. Roz visits for Spring Break. Pack up my life for container shipment. Pre-sell all furnishings. 

Yet to do: Sell car. Move into friend's home for month of June. Run Leadership Lab. Spend time with friends. .....and then....... move to Mongolia. For life. 

A friend looked at me recently and said, "You know Heather, you'll probably never have another year like this." 

Zorig and Enji

Oh, how right she is! It's been a whirlwind of change, of life in action. We all have different paths to walk, different things we are in pursuit of, different things that make us fulfilled and let us know peace. What I want now is completely different than what I wanted a year ago. But this is the beauty of being human--we can change our minds, alter our course, BE different. 

One year after walking into that hospital, I am thrilled to report that I am healthy, happy, and filled with joy. The road ahead of me is more than I could have ever imagined. It's a road that that includes these two special guys. The way they have welcomed me into their hearts and lives is beyond anything I've known before. And before long....we will be together at last....family under one roof in Ulaanbaatar. This image of us motivates me, drives me. It is the why behind all that I do. 

It may be cliche, but Tim McGraw got it right--we really should live as if we were dyin'. There is no guarantee about tomorrow. I know my hospital stay, in retrospect, was perhaps not life threatening--but it did serve as a wake-up call. And an opportunity for me to realize that 40 isn't all that old and that my life can only be what I make it. 

And thanks to Destiny--I'm gonna live it large! Go for broke! 

Breathing Room

Wednesday was my first school day back with students. It was a busy and productive day...and a long one, as I had to return for study hall hours from 6-10 pm. But before doing so, I got a nice walk/run in under the warm Colorado sunshine. In the time between my run and departing to drive back to FVS a funny sensation washed over me: There was nothing to worry or fret about, nothing I should be sorting or packing. Though my apartment is in a state of disarray, it's nothing that can't be picked up and put away in an hour or two. 

Yes, this is my month of rest. A period of calm. The trough between two active crests. My serious packing complete, April is a trough, and then May will bring the picking up of sold home furnishings, the move onto campus, the cleaning and vacating of this apartment. 

I will have only lived here seven short months, but will hold the memory of it being the place where we became something real, together. The place where the dreams we scribed, over Facebook messenger and via international texting, began to manifest. The place where our intangible wonderings about one another, became tangible. Though we first met in a hotel dining room at the Edelweiss Hotel in downtown Ulaanbaatar (red arrow), and began to learn about one another outside a small village called Binder (pronounced bin-dre), in the Hentiiy province (blue arrow) of North-eastern Mongolia (the birthplace of Genghis Khan, I'd like to add!), it was here in the USA, in this perfect transitional apartment, where we became a couple, where we solidified our hopes and dreams. 

But back to what April is providing for me.......I have now taken over two sections of American Literature and will be teaching the novel Ceremony over the next 28 days. This will keep me busy, for sure, and especially so when the 20 papers roll in on May 11 and I have one week to get them graded. BUT, thanks to my recent deadline for container shipment--which once again turned out to be PERFECT timing (there have been so many affirmations along this new life path, it's hard to NOT believe it was destiny)--I can focus on my teaching and on the students. The last two months of the school year are always a blur and this year will be no different, I'm sure, but I get the breathing room of this month of April. 

87 days to departure, 88 to arrival into UB. 

Judgement

Before Forest came along....

In recent weeks, there has been some disagreement and discord within my family--specifically amongst us siblings. I don't care to hang out the dirty laundry in detail, so to speak, but I'll simply say that while there is distance and estrangement between some of us (though NOT all of us), there is no doubt that we love and care about one another. The hurt feelings and misunderstandings will simply have to work themselves out in their own time. 

As I've been sorting through the communications amongst us, the word "judgement" has been used and repeated. I know too, from working with teens these past 10 years, that "judgement" is something they are keenly aware of, and in tune with. During my recent runs or walks around the neighborhood, I've been ruminating on this concept. A quick visit to Merriam Webster tells us that judgement means the following:

• an opinion or decision that is based on careful thought;
• the act or process of forming an opinion or making a decision after careful thought; the act of judging something or someone;
• the ability to make good decisions about what should be done.

We each make judgements all day, every day. From simple routine things such as when to change lanes on the highway, which store to shop, and when to go to sleep at night. To the large choices in life such as what career to pursue, where to live, what kind of vehicle to drive, and whom to date or marry. 

So using judgement, and developing our abilities or skills of judgement, are important to navigation through this modern world. We shouldn't feel bad about using judgement. It is what accompanies the responsibility of Free Will. While there are plenty of people in the world that make haphazard decisions and then wonder how they ended up where they did, I'd prefer to not be one of them. I like to weigh my options, consider the probable outcomes as well as the obstacles and challenges, and then come up with a roadmap to move forward. Most people around me do the same thing. 

Four siblings with Jimmy Carter, mid 80s

And so I come back to judgement and how it's being used in recent tensions between siblings, and I can also reflect on past tensions amongst different combinations of us (there are 4 of us--three girls and a boy). 

We use the word judgement, but I don't think it's the heart of the issue. You see....I'm not making a decision about my brother or sister's life....they make and own their own judgements, aka decisions and opinions, in life. And it's true about my life. I've made significant decisions in the past eight months, and to some, I'm sure they don't seem or appear to be carefully thought out. But that doesn't change the bottom line--they are my decisions to make and my decisions to live with. I own them, for better or worse. I don't need my sister, or brother, or even mother/father or friends to give me approval. 

And therein lies the crux of the judgement conundrum. I think it is ultimately one of two things going on: (1) we feel "judged" because there is something in another person and their response to our decisions that makes us second guess or doubt ourselves, or (2) there is a chasm between the two people that makes it impossible for person B to understand or relate to person A. It is simply a division in understanding. Sometimes this second point can be worked out through conversation or sharing, but other times, it can't be resolved. Maybe time or life events will create experiences for one or the other, or both, to bridge or fill in the chasm. (I'm thankful to say that has happened between me and one of my sisters over these past same eight months.)

I don't have a tidy thought upon which to end this post. 

I'm not okay with where things sit at the moment. (And I'm leaving in 89 days. For Asia.)

But I also know that I can't pretend that everything's okay, nor can I force the understanding. 

And so I live with the truth that for now there is unease and disconnection amongst some of us. 

My love remains constant. It is unconditional.