You are here: Home / Archives for Relationships

On cell phones, facebook, skype and why you should book a tour to China for you and your grandchild

July 22, 2009 by

I have often thought of my life as somewhat unbelievable. The world has changed enormously from even the time when my children were teens. In those days the average person did not have a cell phone. Computers had text interfaces and so seeking information was possible, but photos and movies were not even considered a possibility.

I have come to know and cherish (yes, and sometimes curse) the new technologies. Cell phones have made it easier for people to meet, to decide on the basis of current conditions where and when to meet. Missing husbands can be found just by pressing the appropriate speed dial.

Facebook is a phenomenon that is amazing. I have found friends I’d lost touch with and relatives that I didn’t know existed. I can catch snippets of my friends’ and relatives’ lives without intruding. I can see their pictures the day they are taken, and all in the comfort of my home.

Blogs allow us to get to know people in an even deeper way. We can know what they are thinking, what they are doing, how they process their daily experiences, what they like to do, and what their dreams are. In fact, the internet, in some ways, is like having a big window through which you can watch the world go by.

But this morning, I felt I had entered some sort of new reality when I sat down to my computer, just before 8 a.m. and had a skype call (complete with video) from two of my grandsons who are currently visiting the other side of the family in Los Angeles. It was amazing to see them and talk to them and know that it they would soon be going to sleep while I was just starting my day. I could hear their younger siblings in the background. And best of all, it wasn’t costing anyone a penny! It’s the type of technology that my parents would have given anything to have.

It once again set me to thinking about the whole issue of how grandparents and grandchildren relate to one another. For me, having now been on vacation with a total of 7 grandchildren, it seems clear that spending leisure time together, unmediated by their parents, seems to forge the strongest and most affectionate ties. I feel now that I really know these children in a way I hadn’t known them before and we share now adventures and memories that are only ours. The better I get to know them, the more I appreciate them, and hopefully we are together creating memories that will last a lifetime. Try it, you’ll like it!

Filed Under: China, Family life, Ramblings, Relationships Tagged With: , , , , , , ,

Seeds and seafaring

June 23, 2009 by

This is a week of anticipation. On Sunday we will be taking 6 of our grandchildren on a cruise. This is not only a very exciting adventure, but it is a lesson in what we therapists call “seeding.”

Our grandson Daniel had his Bar Mitzvah a couple of months ago. Like his father, Daniel has a good sense of humor, and as he spoke about himself and his family, he mentioned something to the effect of our being tour guides and traveling and joked that for our information, he’s free to travel at the end of June.

We came home that night and the seed that he planted in my mind began to grow. Two years ago I had the opportunity to take my oldest grandchild with me on one of the tours I guided to China. We spent 11 days in Beijing and it was a completely wonderful experience. I was lucky enough to have some other young girls on the tour. The girls were 12, 13, 17, 22, & 24 — and amazingly, they really enjoyed being together and formed a little subgroup. Staying in the same hotel gave them an opportunity to get to know the neighborhood and feel at home there. We saw some magnificent sights such as the Great Wall, the Forbidden City- which I talk about here and here and here , and the Summer Palace– a place where the group had a lot of fun! My granddaughter learned to bargain (she’s much better than I am) and she learned some Chinese words, and best of all, we now have a shared experience that was very very special.

It seemed to me that Daniel’s joking about a trip made sense and that there had to be a way that we could treat him to something special. My first thought was that my husband could take him somewhere. Unfortunately, an opportunity like the Beijing trip doesn’t come along very often– perhaps never again since it was pre-Olympics and now everything is much more expensive. Then I began to think, “why should he have all the fun!” and the idea began to form in my head. Finally we decided that we could go on a cruise and take advantage of the fact that the 3rd and 4th passengers in a room were half-price. So we decided that my husband would room with three boys and I with three girls. Our oldest grandson was unable to come with us because he has a bagrut, a Regents- type of exam on Sunday, the day the cruise leaves. So, we looked for the next younger grandson. Unfortunately, he had an end of the year celebration during the time we will be away, so we went for the next one. In the end, we will have three 13 year olds, one 12 year old, and two 11 year olds. We will have two brothers, two sisters, and boy/girl twins with us.

We will be visiting for a couple of hours each in Turkey, Greece, and Cyprus. We think it will be wonderful!

And the most amazing part is that the whole idea came from a little seed that Daniel planted in my brain. See how powerful offhanded jokes can be?

Filed Under: Family life, Ramblings, Relationships Tagged With: , , , , ,

Appreciation

April 21, 2009 by

It’s a lost art, appreciation. People who see something beautiful such as a beautiful house or a palace, may know that it’s beautiful, but they don’t usually appreciate all of the thought and hard work that went into planning it and building it. People who see great performances often don’t appreciate that the performer has spent hours and hours learning, rehearsing, and improving his/her performance. When food is delicious, we often don’t appreciate the wonder of beautiful fruits and vegetables growing from seeds out of the ground in a rainbow of colors and a variety of shapes and sizes. We don’t appreciate the person who peeled and cut and arranged the food. We don’t appreciate the minutes or hours spent mixing, dicing, sauteing, kneading. When the table is set, we don’t appreciate the thought given to settings and colors and table accessories. When we see a garden, we don’t praise the gardener. When someone we love tells us he/she loves us, we hear, but often we don’t really hear. We don’t fully understand or appreciate the importance of ourselves in that person’s life or of their importance in ours. When people die, often survivors then begin to see the kindness, the warmth, the sacrifice of their deceased relative. Then they realize what they have lost.

Sometimes when I wonder what all of the traditions we as Jews observe are about, I remember that there is a large component of appreciation– for the food we eat, for the land we were given. These prayers should serve to sensitize us to the gifts we have been given, whether by G-d, by the people we love, or by those who work to make our lives better.

Filed Under: Ramblings, Relationships, Spirituality Tagged With: ,

I’m shy

March 23, 2009 by

Before you start laughing, like everyone I know does, I need to tell you that it’s true. One on one, with friends, I am not shy. When asked to speak or teach, I have no trouble getting up in front of a large number of people, to speak, to joke, to talk extemporaneously. But put me in a social setting where people are milling around and speaking with each other, I’m hugging the wall. Set me down in a room full of people talking about more or less anything, and I’m silent- taking out my notepad and making grocery lists.

I sometimes think about this, but not often. It’s the way I am and my life is full and happy despite that. But yesterday I was sitting across the table from a woman who I’ve known for a few years and mentioned that virtually no one from my youth has any memory of me. — It’s true. My very best friend from when I was 15-18 years old had no recollection of who I was when I contacted her after a hiatus. My NAME wasn’t even familiar. A co-counselor at a camp I worked at- a woman who I had shared a room with for 8 weeks, had no idea who I was years later. In our family, we have decided that I was invisible in my youth. But the truth is that it didn’t end then. A few years ago, on line, I found a professor who had taught me and my husband when we were taking a masters class in Germany. When I contacted him, he said he remembered MY HUSBAND!

The woman across the table who shared a similar experience, told me that when she was a teen, she participated in a once a week sport practice and each week she had to re-introduce herself. She said she too had been invisible and shared with me that she too was seen as unfriendly and a snob.

The truth is that neither of us is unfriendly nor are we snobs (OK, I am a little bit of a snob; I refuse to waste my time with people who are petty or mean or excessively stupid)- we are just shy. So, if you see me and I smile at you (I do that a lot to look less snobby), come on over and we’ll talk.

Filed Under: Ramblings, Relationships

Nothing to say

March 13, 2009 by

This week has been a difficult one. My daughter and her husband are faced with a difficult decision. A child in our city was killed in a traffic accident. People I know have lost loved ones. And I feel impotent- unable to provide the right answer, the right words. And who should know what to say? Surely a family therapist, an “expert” in human interactions, a person who should know how to phrase things properly, how to say exactly the right thing, surely I should be able to respond in a meaningful, thoughtful, helpful way.

But I can’t.

Because, there is nothing to say. There is nothing that makes a difficult decision easier other than expressing one’s confidence that whatever people choose to do will be the right choice for them. There is nothing to say that removes grief. No one else can feel the pain of the bereft. No one can know what that family member meant to them. No one can know what words might heal and what words might hurt.

A long time ago I worked in the intensive care unit at a hospital. My supervisor, a chaplain, had talked to us about “a ministry of presence.” He told us that just being there and being with was in itself, a ministry. There was one very old woman (I think she was 92) who was in a coma. Each day I went and stood by her bed. I would take her hand. I would sometimes talk to her, although I knew she most likely wouldn’t hear me. I would stay there for 5 or 10 minutes and then I would wish her well and leave. One day I came to the unit and she was gone. I thought she had died. I was about to leave the unit after visiting some other people when one of the nurses came to me and told me that the woman had awakened. She told me that the family had asked her to thank me for being with their mother and for having been so kind. I never thought to ask how they knew. Did she hear me? feel me? Had the nurses told them? I don’t know.

But after that I understood that sometimes, when there is nothing to say, being there, being with is the best thing we can do.

Filed Under: Emotional health, Ramblings, Relationships, Spirituality

Predictability

February 15, 2009 by

It’s interesting what we humans do. We are born into a world that has some degree of predictability– the sun will rise in the morning and set at night, but a very large degree of randomness. If we look at our lives, we realize that very little is in our control. We cannot control the other driver- who may be talking on his cell phone or just not paying attention. We cannot control the illnesses that we are subject to. Oh yes, researchers work on treatments and cures, but aside from taking precautions not to do things that are dangerous to our health (smoking, excessive use of alcohol, tanning, eating large quantities of artery-clogging foods), we have very little control.

But we long for control. We long for predictability. We try to find reasons why others have hardships and heartaches and disabilities in order to protect ourselves from the realization that all of us are vulnerable. But when we are being rational, we know that the terror victim happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. We understand that cancer began to grow in someone as a random occurrence. We comprehend that we are vulnerable.

We teach our children that this is an ordered universe- that if they behave nicely, good things will happen to them. And, we hope, we pray, this is true. We want so much to create for them a world without pain. And then the randomness of the universe once again shows itself.

Where is G-d in all of this? I wish I had an answer. I know that I cannot understand. I am not sure that humans are meant to understand. I have read more than once of life on earth as a tapestry. Just as a magnificent tapestry may have areas that are dark or bent or frayed, but when seen in the full context, they only add to the beauty, so we may see our lives. It’s a beautiful metaphor, but it doesn’t answer the question. Why can’t all of the people I love be part of the bright and beautiful part of the tapestry?

I think the answer to the lack of control is to take control of the part that we can. We CAN be kind to each other. We CAN help each other. We CAN value each other. We CAN provide the listening ear, the gentle touch, the warm embrace. We may not be able to control the world, but we can control how we act in it. And we have the ability to make it a better place.

Filed Under: Emotional health, Family life, Parenting, Ramblings, Relationships, Spirituality

Evolution

February 10, 2009 by

As a therapist I have been heard more than once saying that our thoughts and actions affect our feelings and that by changing thought patterns and actions, we can change the way we feel. Usually, one of the ways I talk about changing thought patterns is by changing our self-talk. That’s the internal narrative we carry on. So, for example, if we misstep we can say internally “oops” or we can say internally “I am such a mess” or “I can’t do anything right.” The words we tell ourselves program our feelings. We can in a situation like this either feel like it was a misstep or we can feel as if it was further proof of our inadequacy or of how much the universe has it in for us etc.

Well, I was raised by a mother who loved things and loved perfection. More than once, family members and I referred to my parents’ living room as “the museum of expensive furniture.” There wasn’t a ribbon or chain separating it from the foyer entrance, one step up, but no one, but no one trod on that perfect lavender carpet without permission. My father used to have the privilege of walking into the living room on Tuesday nights to wind the beautiful French clock on the wall because first thing Wednesday morning, the cleaning lady would vacuum the rug, ridding it of the telltale footprints. In all the years I lived in that house, I think I sat on the white cut-velvet sofa once. It was the day my in-laws came to visit for the first time.

Similarly, things were not to be moved from their proper places. Nothing was to be broken. Nothing could be disturbed. I was not allowed to cook because I might “ruin” one of the pots or break the blender or who knows what other ghastly sin I might commit. Things, particularly beautiful, expensive, perfect things, were important.

I tried to raise my children in a different way. I must admit, though, that every time we moved and furniture was scratched or torn or soiled, it bothered me. A lot.

As the years went by, I began to really think about the fact that things were only things. Even things that had great sentiment (such as the challah cover I embroidered while pregnant with my first son, during the Six-Day War that was missing for a couple of weeks) are only things. And things can be replaced. Things can be given away, sold, thrown away. They are not important. I have known that for years. I have said that for years. I use my fine china. If it breaks, it breaks. If I never use it, what’s the sense of having it? When the crystal glasses began to break, I threw them away. It was OK.

But today I realized that I really have evolved. As the stair rail men were removing the glass they had miscut, they scratched one of our brand new wooden steps. I said, “Look, there’s a scratch there” in a quiet, calm voice. I didn’t stay to see if they reacted. I went back into my office and continued to work. After a while, I thought, “Why am I not upset?” and the truth is, I am not. At all. I’ll try to touch it up with furniture polish, but it’s a thing.

Today, I will spend time with what’s important… some of my family members are getting together for a barbeque since Election Day is a vacation day. Now THEY are important!

Filed Under: Emotional health, Family life, Ramblings, Relationships

Oh, you poor dear

December 21, 2008 by

I’ve been thinking recently about the type of training we give people who are becoming therapists. We tell them to take a good history, to assess the health of their client, and to walk with the client through their world in a non-judgmental way.

Recently, it struck me that if therapists are not taught to think systemically, they might end up not only not effective in helping their clients, but they may even harm them.

Let’s take, for example, Mrs. Q. (not a real person). She was married to Mr. Q. for a period of 15 years. They had several children and then after a period of worsening conditions between them, divorced.

Mrs. Q. shows up in Susie the therapist’s office. Susie (I am calling her Susie because she is representing the naive way in which many non-systemic, poorly trained therapists respond) listens to Mrs. Q.’s story. It seems that Mr. Q. was a disaster from the first day of the marriage. He neglected to take out the trash at least a couple of times a week. He didn’t give Mrs. Q. nearly enough assistance with the children and with household tasks as she wanted. He didn’t spend as much time and money on her as she wanted.

Susie, in an effort to understand more of what was so awful about the marriage asks about physical abuse. Mrs. Q. says there was no physical abuse. Susie asks about emotional abuse. Aha! Yes, there was emotional abuse. What did it consist of?

Sometimes Mrs. Q. had an idea that Mr. Q. didn’t like.
Sometimes Mr. Q. wanted to go somewhere or do something that wouldn’t be Mrs. Q.’s choice.

Susie being a good therapist would follow the complaints with some version of “oh, you poor dear.” which is fine if you are trying to assist Mrs. Q. to feel justified and righteous, but which is not helpful if you are trying to help Mrs. Q. understand what happened and perhaps experience less pain in any future relationships.

In order for Mrs. Q. to grow from her experience, she has to take the time to examine what her part was in initiating, sustaining, or encouraging interactions that left her feeling frustrated and/or angry. That is not the same thing as blaming her, because fault is not something that can be determined even were we to have videotapes of the entire marriage and both partners’ running commentaries. What is important is whether Mrs. Q. can see what her part was, to take responsibility for what was truly her part, and to see that she may have different options in the future.

Filed Under: Family life, Relationships

Please join my cult

May 19, 2008 by

It has come to my attention that there are a number of cults here in Israel that are run by “rebbetzins” (rabbis’ wives). It seems that their followers believe that these women have a direct connection with the Creator of the universe and that by being part of their group, they will reap some benefits. For example, these leaders know what G-d is thinking, and that’s pretty important knowledge. In return for being a member of these cults, men have left their wives, mothers and fathers have been willing to beat and torture their children, and women have been willing to dress up in layers and layers of scarves and clothing that not only cover their whole body, but also their faces including their eyes.

So I got to thinking. My husband is a rabbi. In some weird way, that means that technically I am a rebbitzen. I certainly have as much access to the Creator of the universe as anyone else (who knows? maybe more….) So I have decided to start a cult.

Here’s what my loyal followers must do to show their devotion. I think it will be a bit easier in some ways than some of the other cults.

1. Respect the people around you. Treat them with kindness. Be patient.
2. Love the people in your family. Really love them. Smile when they enter a room, hug them when they are feeling sad, listen when they need to talk.
3. Take care of yourself. Eat healthy foods, get some exercise. Find time for some pleasurable activity. Don’t judge yourself or be too hard on yourself. You are human.

As to the contributions usually required to hear the prophecies, please give them to meaningful charities.

If you join my cult, I cannot promise you a trouble-free life, but I can promise you one that is meaningful and worth living.

Filed Under: Ramblings, Relationships, Spirituality

Thanks

April 7, 2008 by

Thanks, first of all, to my daughter Leah, mother of little Kinneret (sometimes called “Monkilee”) who has updated my blog and added the most recent test post. Although I have been using computers for almost 27 years (oh my gosh!!! Can it possibly be that long!) I am still intimidated by them as relating to them becomes more and more complicated. It’s a long way from the TRS-80 Model III to where we are today. We certainly have lots more to see and do on these new computers, but trying to do anything more than use them intimidates me.

Thanks, secondly, to my dear friend Sandy whose comment on a recent post left me speechless. Sandy and I have known each other for a very long time and she is 100% correct about having stood by me in my journey through life as a young brunette to a young blonde, back to a brunette, all the way through to my light brown dyed hair that might be gray, but I choose not to see it. She was with me through camp and high school and college- seeing me through my awkwardness and through my misadventures with boyfriends, through my broken heart, and through the joy of my engagement and marriage. Sandy shared my joy with the births of my children and followed me emotionally through my wanderings throughout the States and over to Germany and remained connected even after my aliya. I have shared in her joy with the birth of her children and their achievements and accomplishments. I was there to see her daughter marry and from a distance I have shared in her joy as one after another her grandchildren have been born (may they increase.) Sandy has always been kind and caring and friendly and genuine. Although she is multi-talented, she is humble and down-to-earth. Having her as part of my life has been and continues to be a blessing. So thank you to you, Sandy. Ad 120.

Filed Under: Ramblings, Relationships
« Previous Page
Next Page »