Being Thomas Edison

I am blessed. Truly I am. While the writing of this blog is for you, the reader, it is also very therapeutic for me and I am blessed by the response I have gotten from people who hold a special place in my heart. So shout out to all of those amazing people…you know who you are (if you are wondering if it’s you I’m talking to…it probably is!)

These people that I refer to are the ones who have consistently told me how proud they are of me. It’s taken me a minute to figure out why they are proud of me; sad for me, angry, confused…I understand that (and expected that to be the response). But proud of me was something that caught me off guard. Given the number of horror stories I could share, I have fully expected my friends to ask me to refrain from talking about the latest guy I have accepted a date from. Or I would have understood if they advised me to take a break from dating, use this time to “figure yourself out” (more about that in another blog), or even register on a religious dating site in hopes of finding a different caliber of man. Proud of me, though…

“I’m so proud of you for continuing to put yourself out there…”

When Thomas Edison was asked, after many failed attempts to successfully create the light bulb, if he ever grew discouraged or thought he was wasting his time, Edison said no, he learned something important each time he tried. He learned that there was another material not to be used:

“During all those years of experimentation and research, I never once made a discovery. All my work was deductive, and the results I achieved were those of invention, pure and simple. I would construct a theory and work on its lines until I found it was untenable. Then it would be discarded at once and another theory evolved. This was the only possible way for me to work out the problem. ... I speak without exaggeration when I say that I have constructed 10,000 different theories in connection with the electric light, each one of them reasonable and apparently likely to be true. Yet only in two cases did my experiments prove the truth of my theory.”—Thomas Edison

In a meditative reading a while back, Thomas Edison’s scientific attempts were reflected on as the author used Edison’s example to offer hope and persistence to other aspects of life, namely in relationships. Edison’s lessons are not only telling, but transferrable, especially when seeking out our calling or how we seek out love. Envisioning what we need is powerful and incredibly real but just as crucial is the confidence of spirit to know that it will work—that it’s worth it to keep trying—even if we haven't found exactly where we belong or who to love yet. Equally as vital is the perseverance in trying to find exactly what will work. It cannot be stated enough that what feels so inspiring about Thomas Edison’s journey in inventing the lightbulb is that he never viewed his non-light-producing attempts as any type of failure, but rather as his vital process of discovery.  (My paraphrase from Mark Nepo, Book of Awakening).

It finally hit me why they kept saying they were proud of me. It’s because continuing to put yourself out there when you continually are getting left, abandoned, cheated on, abused, questioned, taking emotional punches...it’s tough as all get out to not sink into a place of misery, tears, cynicism and hopelessness. It can become quite difficult to not view each first date as a worthless when it doesn’t turn into a second date. It can be agonizing to become aware of additional baggage and personal hinderances that make relationships feel like all-for-naught. It can feel confusing when the only guys who seem to respond to your online dating profile are too young, too old or someone that there clearly would never be any attraction to. All of these things can feel like I have failed at relationships and love, thus enforcing a hypothesis about myself and relationships that is simply misdirected (or probably false altogether).

Obviously there have been days where I have not had such a positive outlook and it’s been easier to wonder what is wrong with me and why I keep failing rather than looking at each experience as an opportunity to grow and learn. There have been times where I have wondered if I truly do have the right to be apathetic, frustrated or exhausted; I have wondered if some of my friends’ cynicism for me (or rather my “situation”) would be better owned by me. But in moments where it is easy to slip those masks on, there seems to be an equal, and usually stronger, pull in the opposite direction that reminds me that the self awareness and life gained through this process is far from failure. 

There is something very freeing in having absolute certainty in knowing what I value, what I want, what I need, what I desire and what my boundaries are from experience. There is something very strong when you are able to know for yourself what you are going after because of all you have learned versus taking someone’s word for it (what does work, what doesn’t work, the type of man you should go after, what a relationship should look like, etc.) While certainly I am not advocating for flippancy or overt lack of discernment in experience and relationships, often times these times of trying and putting yourself out there are the greatest teachers.  If anything, like Thomas Edison, they teach you what doesn’t work and you are one step closer to finding something that does.

Persevere.

Until next time…

The Masks We Wear

One of the things that I find myself reflecting on a lot are the different masks that I seem to wear throughout my single-dom. It’s not wearing a mask like I might have in middle school or high school when I was trying to figure out my identity (remember those days…one day you would show up to school as a preppy cheerleader and the next day you would sport black lipstick, a pale complexion and all black clothing?) The masks I have worn in my relationship status seem to have the ability to change just as frequently as a teenager figuring out their identity, but they seem to be motivated by a completely different foundation.

If you are over 30 and single, or single again, chances are life has handed you a plethora of experiences, relationships, jobs, decisions and everything else in between, that has really helped to shape who you are. And I think it’s fair to say that many of us have even started to make sense of many of these experiences and been able to use them as a source of refinement and betterment. There is much truth in the statement that with age brings wisdom! I would not trade my body in my 20’s for the mind I have in my 30’s (well…let’s be honest, somedays I do want that body back. To be able to survive on gatorade, licorice and Cheetos without gaining a pound…those were the days!) So, as the days of our life here on this earth steadily increase, there is an amount of being able to “settle in” to who you are that brings about a greater ability to breathe and simply enjoy life in a way that wasn’t possible when you had that Cheeto-eating-body!

Enter in the topic of relationships though, and sometimes that ability to breathe and enjoy life is no where to be found (and to top it off, your body doesn’t react the same way to a bag of Cheetos, so you really do feel all alone!) And that’s where we begin to try on different masks. These masks though are motivated from this deep and vulnerable place within us that is begging for an answer to the question of “Does anyone love me? Do I matter? Does anyone truly see who I am?” And the more those questions are answered with silence or bold faced rejection, the more we must figure out how to defend ourselves against the pain of that unfavorable and all too consistent answer. 

Those deep and vulnerable questions I liken to a wound—they are raw, seemingly exposed and make you wince when someone gets close to touching them. And just like a physical wound that we would seek to protect if the possibility of an additional threat came our way, I believe that we find, even subconsciously, ways to protect that vulnerability in order to keep people at arms length and keep ourselves safe. It’s a natural inclination to want to protect ourselves. We grow up learning how to protect ourselves physically, but when it comes to relationships we have to learn an entirely new set of survival skills.

As I thought about this topic, I began to list out the different masks I had worn (or still wear!) in an effort to protect that vulnerable place within me (remember, that vulnerable place in us is asking those questions of “Am I loved? Do I matter? Does anyone truly see who I am? Does anyone want me? Is there something wrong with me?”) I thought about just listing them all out seeing if y’all could identify with me just based on my titles alone, but quickly realized that I think it’s important to dig into and understand these masks that we wear…why do we wear them, how do we change them, do I ever get to stop wearing them? So we’re gonna spend the next few blogs dissecting the many faces of being single (or single again) and over 30.

The Mask of Cynicism

 I had to start with this mask because it’s the one that is, unfortunately, the most well-worn for me. It’s the mask that I wore daily for quite a long time and the mask that I will go back to in moments that I need something familiar. To be honest, I think this mask is usually combined with many of the other masks I wear. And, I might venture to say, the Mask of Cynicism is probably present in each one of us. And I think it’s also safe to say this mask was created first as a defense mechanism and as a way to cope. It was created the first time you were cheated on, the first time you were rejected, the first time someone disappeared from your life. It became more defined each time someone walked out, each Friday night spent alone, every time you were the 3rd wheel or had to go to a wedding of a friend. And every day, weekend, month, year that passes by and you remain single, this mask no longer feels like a mask. It actually seems to be an intricate part of who you are. 

For me, personally, this mask was present far before I knew it existed. I would try to be excited for a friend who was in a new relationship, but in secret I would cry myself to sleep wondering when it was going to happen for me. And then, in an effort to try and make sense of the situation, I would allow myself to have a silent tirade against all single men who either (only in my opinion, of course) were too blind to see what was good for them, were too flaky to commit or needed to pull their shit together to rise to my standards. And, while those things may have been true from time to time, this cynical view only served as a band-aid, as I denied what was truly going on for me: I was hurting and I was lonely. 

It’s hard to admit that we are hurting, that we are lonely, that we long for a relationship. For whatever reason, in our culture, admitting these things is like admitting weakness. Most of the time we feel like there is something wrong with us; and we convince ourselves that we should feel a whole lot better about being single than we actually do. The interesting part about this is that the more we deny and shove down that hurt and loneliness, the bigger it actually gets. 

At some point that hurt and loneliness has to have some sort of an outlet and it’s not uncommon for it to turn to resentment and resentment to cynicism.  The problem with this type of cynicism, however, is that when this is the mask we wear, we are denying what is real; we are simply surviving. 

I stated above that this Mask of Cynicism is a mask I am quite familiar with; one that in those weak moments I can easily slip back on. It’s an old friend, it gives me momentary gratification and satisfaction. But it never lasts. The reality is, when I allow myself to wear this mask without noticing it, recognizing it’s reason for existence and where it is manifesting itself, I become quite bitter. Bitterness breeds cynicism which breeds more bitterness; it’s a vicious cycle that eventually results in isolation (which is where I think the stereotype of the cat lady comes in to play! Seriously, click the link if you are in need of a chuckle!)

So, what’s a girl to do? Is it possible for this cycle to even be stopped, for this mask to be removed and to move forward in humble acceptance? The short answer is, yes. Though it is, as always, easier said than done, removing this mask requires a daily commitment to live in honesty and truth about the reality that you live in. It doesn’t mean you become a victim or martyr (those are masks we will discuss in a future post), it simply means you accept the situation you are in rather than trying to deny it. [A quick note on acceptance: contrary to popular belief, acceptance doesn’t mean that you have to like your situation, it doesn’t mean that you have to desire more of it either. Acceptance simply means that you are honest and truthful about the reality that you are presently in, living fully in that moment, participating in your emotions rather than repressing or suppressing them and then to move out of that moment when needed.]

I will end with a quote I read from a meditation book, The Book of Awakening, by poet, Mark Nepo:

“It’s so simple and yet so brave to say that we are hurt when we are hurt, to say that we are sad when we are sad, to say that we are scared when we are scared. In very direct and daily ways, this energy of realness changes situations because the immediate expression of our truth releases light and warmth that influences the life we are a part of. This is the way our spirit shines.”