Are You Listening?

Tags

adoption, birthmother, Children's Author, Communication, Dealing with Adoption, Guest Posting, Personal development

Note from Elaine: Adoption issues, my theme for the past several years, has allowed me to focus beyond “recovery” and move toward ways of reaching a more fulfilling life. To listen more to others and less to the same tired song of myself. Guest blogger Pat Goehe, past contributor to The Goodbye Baby, knows a lot about the art of communication.

If you’re always talking, how can you hear?

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ARE YOU LISTENING?- PART ONE
To begin this posting, I must tell you that over the years I have taught semester courses in listening. Additionally, the numerous courses in Interpersonal Communication that we all teach in my field contain major units in listening. Why must I tell you this? Because it is extremely difficult for me to narrow the topic down to briefer comments. But I will try!
Whether it’s a class or a speech I usually give demonstrations (because I continue to be an actress!) of three commonly observed interactions where supposedly we are listening. First we have what the psychologist Tournier called “dialogue of the deaf”; others refer to it as “talking past each other.” What happens here are people who believe they are communicating with each other, but often a person will ask a question , then is immediately formulating another question before the recipient can complete responding to the first inquiry. Another example of this type of listening problem is where one person in the conversation is talking. The listener hears a “trigger word or phrase”. Example: Sue says “I made the greatest recipe last night. It was….” And before she can complete this statement, Mary says “Oh my gosh! I forgot to take out the frozen chops I’m planning to fix tonight”. While both Sue and Mary think they are listening to each other, they are engaged in the dialogue of the deaf.
Next we have the type of listening where one person, or maybe both, listens only to dispute/argue whatever has been said. That is debating, not listening!

Tomorrow: PART TWO of “Are You Listening”

Pat Goehe is a children’s author and birthmother. Her newest book is Annemarie and Boomer wait for Grandma.

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Adopting Simplicity

Tags

adoption, Dealing with Adoption, Garage Sales, Simplifying, Stuff

The past few weeks in this high desert city of Santa Fe, New Mexico, temperatures

When customers weren’t buying, we ended up trading with one another.

soared from the sixties to the eighties. Spring suddenly turned into Summer. Along with newly blooming roses, colorful signs for neighborhood garage sales began popping up. Like many others, I’d been saving all manner of possessions to “repurpose” them after our long, cold winter ended.
Yep, you guessed it — I decided to join neighbors in staging a two-day yard sale. It happened last weekend. Labeling, putting up signs and balloons, advertising in local papers, schlepping everything over to my friend’s house…it was a ton of work. True, a lot sold and I made a decent amount of money. Toward the end of the sale, I simply gave a lot away. We all did. But, to be honest, it was exhausting and ridiculously time-consuming. I vowed to quit letting stuff creep into my house.
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 Every possession, it’s been said, is a responsibility. Even after the recent sale, I still have too many books, clothes, shoes, housewares, books, office supplies, garden supplies…too much of EVERYTHING.
Writing my adoption memoir The Goodbye Baby-A Diary about Adoption gave me

Hard to believe no one wanted my Salton Yogurt Maker.

the reality check I needed. It was so liberating to review four decades of past emotional “baggage” and then burning the diaries themselves, I realized that my too-much-stuff problem could also be tackled. The late diaries went up in smoke, and that gave me courage. It was OK to get rid of something that had once been precious. In publishing my “diary book,” I’d saved the essence of those journals, which was all I needed: First the diaries, then the house and everything in it. There is no turning back.
Nature abhors a vacuum; my perpetual need to purge is living proof. But, I will gain the upper hand! Just as I’ve replaced my old negative thinking about adoption (healthy acceptance is the aim), I’m revising my attitude toward possessions. De-acquisition-ing is my new goal. Divesting. Streamlining. Simplifying.

Less time organizing and caring for things and more time to simply LIVE. I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again:
*Use it or LOSE it.
*LESS is MORE.
*Empty is BEAUTIFUL

Join Elaine most Mondays for reflections on Adoption and Life.

Marvelous May

Tags

Adopted daughter, Aorta, Christus St. Vincent Hospital, Dealing with Adoption, Friendship, Gratitude, Operation Recovery

The month of May casts her magic spell as spring’s promise is finally fulfilled.
 – Sarah Ban Breathnach

As an adult adoptee, I’ve always looked at the world through what I call “adoption colored glasses.”  In my experience, we adopted ones seem to invite drama and extremes into our lives, maybe even more than those raised by their original parents. Take, for example, a milestone event that befell me three Mays ago. One of my worst challenges—life-threatening surgery—turned into a blessing.

May is a time to appreciate everyday epiphanies.

May is magical for me not only because of spring’s blossoming, but because it is the month that kept me alive. I was given a new lease on life. Allow me to explain…

The surprises began in late May. Just as I was retiring from my job as elementary school librarian for Santa Fe Public Schools, I contracted an intestinal flu that resulted in multiple visits to the doctor. Blaming my “bug” on elementary school germs, I assumed that I would eventually get better. Despite antibiotics, however, I felt worse by the week. My primary care physician ordered a CT scan, and the scan revealed a seriously advanced abdominal aortic aneurism. It would have to be repaired; time was of the essence. A few days after the diagnosis, I had surgery.
I vividly recall operation day. I felt a deep sense of impending doom. As I traveled into the surgical theater on a gurney, I noticed all the details—shiny surfaces, lots of white. Soon, anesthesia took over, and I was OUT. Working for several hours, the brilliant surgical duo Doctors Poseidon Varvitsiotis and Gerald Weinstein replaced my defective aortic section with a dacron stint, sutured it in place, and sewed me back together.
My next moment of consciousness was in the Intensive Care Unit, where I would spend the next two and ½ days. Despite exhaustion and a morphine-induced stupor, I was amazed and grateful. My life had been saved!
After six days at Christus St. Vincent’s, I was allowed to go home. Friends rallied, a different pal spending the night in my guest room for a couple weeks, just to make sure I was OK. For a month, I was very feeble and could get about only with the help of a walker. It was a chore to eat, to dress, to do anything at all. Following doctor’s orders, I took a siesta every afternoon. When I was at last able, I took a daily half-hour walk outdoors. Along with resting and walking, I edited, proofreading the final galleys of my memoir, The Goodbye Baby. Though later than I’d intended, the book was finally ready for publication.
So, my surgical event is history. The operation and ensuing months of recovery made me realize that, in the big picture, it does not matter if I meet personal deadlines exactly as I’d envisioned. After my brush with mortality, I adopted a new attitude. Every day, I celebrate the gift of life. And it all happened in the month of May.

Join Elaine on Mondays for reflections on adoption and life!

Traveling the Chamisa Road

Tags

adoption, Chamisa, Dealing with Adoption, recovery, Restoration, Split at the Root, the goodbye baby, Walking

Chamisa, also called Rubber Rabbitbrush: a perennial deciduous Native shrub, with aromatic, blue-green-grey, feathery foliage in Summer and dense clusters of bright-yellow flowers in early Fall. Deciduous shrub, 3-5 ft. tall & wide. Can prune strongly – blooms on new growth. Sow anytime.

October brings Chamisa into full bloom.

Join Elaine every Monday for reflections on adoption and life.

Though I loved growing up in northern Virginia, with its lovely green deciduous trees and grassy lawns and hills, I willingly adapted to living in a dry land. Here in my adopted state of New Mexico I find myself surrounded by Chamisa. It is scruffy and hardy; it attempts to cover the hard dirt fields, it is everywhere. Though occasionally planted in gardens or used in landscaping, Chamisa’s favorite place is bordering roads.
Many Octobers ago when I first moved to the Southwest, this ubiquitous plant was abloom with small yellow blossoms. I made bouquets and put several throughout the house. Soon I was sneezing my head off. Lesson learned. Too pungent to be used in the house, Chamisa is best left outdoors.
This lowly “rabbitbrush” seems to symbolize the adoptee’s journey of forgiving the past and being in now.  Not resignation, but rather, acceptance. The “Chamisa Road” is about moving beyond invisible wounds, those injuries that are hardest to heal. It’s about traveling from “how to have what you want” to “how to want what you have”
In my experience, the wounds of adoption may never really go away; they simply change form. I’ve written about this in my confessional, The Goodbye Baby-A Diary about Adoption.  Similarly, in her excellent memoir Split at the Root, Catana Tully indicates that restoration may be a lifelong process. The “wounded heart” of the adoptee overrides intellectual decisions. At any time, the feelings of being not quite OK, of not belonging may reappear. They rear their ugly heads and must be stared down.
Adoption recovery, it turns out, is not accomplished by simply writing a memoir and then declaring “OK, I’m healed now.” It is a Sisyphusian undertaking that must be faced afresh every morning.  It is about walking The Chamisa Road.

Five-Step Program for Adoptees

Tags

adoptee, adoption, Attitude, Authenticity, Dealing with Adoption, emotions, Five-Step Program, Friendship, Personal growth

The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing, and face us with the reality of our powerlessness, that is the friend who cares. -Henry Nouwen, Dutch-born priest and writer

Our feelings are very important. They count. They matter. The emotional part of us is special. – Melody Beattie, Author of Codependent No More – How to Stop Controlling Others and Start Caring for Yourself

Learning to “friend” yourself pays great rewards

Maybe it’s the transition from summer to autumn, but lately nearly everyone I know is carrying a heavy sack of problems that keeps life from being fulfilling. I’ve always prided myself in being a good friend “in time of need,” a resourceful adviser, stalwart and supportive pal, a woman who listens without judging. My wonderful community of “amigas” are much cherished, and we support one another in many ways.

Why, then, do I find it hard to be a friend to myself?  Clearly, a barrier is that old grief that began with the initial wound of adoption. Nancy Verrier in her book by the same title calls it The Wounded Heart.  I’ve come a long way on the road to adoption recovery. No matter how hard I resist, however, when life becomes too challenging the thought seeps in: “My mother gave me away because I wasn’t good enough.” Children believe that they are the cause of everything around them, and adopted children often become their own worst enemies.

Adult adoptees need to guard against the old grief, the invisible wounds, the doubts that spring from having been adopted. It takes special effort to befriend oneself. Here’s a list of ways to nurture and appreciate that adopted self:

1. Be gentle. If you were advising your dearest, most cherished pal about a situation, what would you say or do? Treat yourself as kindly as you would that best friend.

2. Stop depending on external validation and approval. Such seeking is Ego-based and tends to break your heart. Comparing yourself with others is bound to end up badly. (Here, as throughout my post, I can relate only my own experience).

3. When troubles pour down, remember that, like rainstorms, they will pass. Think about this: If you fast-forwarded to a year ahead, many of today’s problems would not even be remembered. Those ills, would, of course, be replaced by new ones, which in turn would be replaced by others. To be alive is to have problems. As you face them, be a kind, loving friend – TO YOURSELF.

4. Spend time in nature and appreciate the beauty of every season. Whatever your favorite outdoor activity, try to do it five times a week. Biking, walking, running or hiking: They are good for not only cardiovascular health but also for ones emotional state.

5. Fine tune your sense of humor, especially the ability to laugh at your own foibles.

No one ever promised us that life would be easy, but it is made richer and more enjoyable with the help of friends. There just might be someone who is waiting to be your new best friend: YOU. Try including that new friend in your thoughts and actions. Practice befriending yourself this month and see what happens. You just might gain a new BFF!

Join Elaine every Monday for reflections on adoption and life.

The Path to Serenity

Tags

adoption, Dealing with Adoption, Hiking, loss, Neighbors, Paths and Trails, Renewal, serenity

“Only when you are on foot are you really there.”    -Goethe

We adoptees who are now adults are supposedly “over” adoption issues.

Atalaya Mountain, 9121 feet

Nature shrine in memory of Ruth

While I believe this in theory, I know that when the road gets rough, the old angst comes back for a cameo appearance. The same tiresome crew: feelings of melancholy, loneliness, impatience and frustration.

Think in terms of life as a journey. Now that it’s almost Fall, I look back on the route I traveled last summer. Most of the season was a smooth highway, but the past two weeks resembled a dusty, rugged washer board of a back road. At the end of August, my neighbor Ruth died rather suddenly. True, she was a month away from turning 95, a ripe old age in anyone’s book. But the fact that I lived next door to her for 40 years, the fact that I was planning to visit her once again for one of our quarterly  coffee klatches and the harsh fact that, all of a sudden, a visit was no longer possible left me flat. I’ll admit it: Even though I know about necessary and inevitable losses, the old abandonment issues kicked in.

I’ve discovered a solution: I take myself outdoors.

Those of you who’ve been following my blog know that I’m all about not only adoption but also the curative power of nature. When life becomes hard to take, I take to the trails: anywhere outdoors that will provide a walk in the woods, a view of the mountains,
walking, strolling, rambling, climbing in a beautiful spot.

This is one thing I’ve learned. Whenever I feel stuck, down or dissatisfied, nature lifts me out of myself and helps me achieve an “attitude adjustment.” I recommend this for lifting the spirits, overcoming writer’s block, or recharging your emotional batteries.

I live near mountains in the scenic Southwest, but no matter where you are, there are sure to be are lovely places. While not necessarily a permanent solution, hiking and walking can definitely make the world seem brighter.

Join Elaine every Monday for insights on adoption and life.

Advice from a Tree

Tags

Adoptee Recovery, adoption, Bookmarks, Catana Tully, Dealing with Adoption, Diaries, healing, memoir, Resourcefulness, San Diego, Simplicity, Trees

“When the Student is ready, the Teacher will appear” -Unknown

This California tree overlooks sun-baked terrain.

Stand tall and Proud
Sink Your Roots into the Earth
Be Content with your Natural Beauty
Drink Plenty of Water
Enjoy the View!

-by Ilan Shamir

LIKE THE REHABILITATED ALCOHOLIC, the recovering adoptee must be ever vigilant for signs of backsliding. Nature, I have found, provides opportunities to gain clear vision, to strengthen, invigorate and purge. For example, a grove of Eucalyptus trees near my son’s home became a psychological springboard. For one week, I strolled daily under the majestic giants, stopping occasionally to write in my journal. It so happened that in the journal was a bookmark that spoke directly to my heart. Quoted above with the permission of http://www.YourTrueNature.com …is the lesson. Sounds simple, but it is actually profound. Yes, I’m following advice from a tree, delivered by a bookmark!

Join Elaine on Mondays for reflections on adoption and life.

TWO YEARS AGO, motivated by the desire to provide a “tell-all confessional,” I published The Goodbye Baby-A Diary about Adoption. Through the Internet’s large, rambling “adoption community,” I’ve met dozens of other adult adoptees, many of whom have written about the same hard lessons of growing up adopted. The response from my readers has been gratifying, but even more beneficial has been the freedom allotted by pouring the angst into a book and journeying forward with courage and positivity.

And yes, it is possible to leave the past behind, to move on. But let’s get real. No matter how much analysis, clarification, self-appreciation and education the adopted self receives, the demons return. Thanks to the support of my readers and the excellent adoption memoirs I’ve read, especially Catana Tully’s Split at the Root, I am able to recognize the demons and combat them.

Hope comes from many sources. Who knows where or when the next beacon will appear? While taking a

If we take the time to listen, Nature awaits us with answers.

beautiful walk on one of San Diego’s many urban trails. I realized that the answers to adoption issues, and maybe to anyone’s issues, need not be complicated.

So here, with the clearer vision of one who’s fought the demons for years and come to an armistice, is the message: Letting the past take up too much of today is not a good idea. Learning is a daily challenge, but one that makes life worthwhile. The rewards are never guaranteed, but when they do arrive, we are able to emulate the tall, proud, healthy tree. My gratitude is deep, I’m drinking lots of water, and I’m working on the rest.

Bloom Where You’re Planted

Tags

Adaptation, adoption, Claret Cup, Dealing with Adoption, Native Plants, Nature as Teacher, Prickly Pear, Resourcefulness, Rockly Mountains

Many of life’s lessons can be learned from nature.

Join Elaine every Monday for insights on adoption and life.

Much of what I call “adoption recovery” comes from walking and hiking in the Rocky Mountain foothills. My favorite spot for musing is Sun Mountain, affectionately known by its Spanish name, “Monte Sol.” Less than a mile up to the summit, it rises 700 feet and offers sweeping views of the high desert plateau, Sandia Peak to the East and the Jemez Mountains to the West.

Festooned in scarlet, this cactus brightens its dusty surroundings

Though short, the hike is demanding. The narrow path comprises several hundred switchbacks and a bit of scrambling across boulders. The surface is gravelly. Feet can slip right out from under, landing you on your derriere. Once at the top, however, you are rewarded with a panoramic landscape painting: The distant mountains and mesas offer layers of purple, blue, sage, sand, and green. Over-arching you is a dome of sky and an-ever changing show of clouds. It is the kind of view that to many, me included, means home.
There are gifts along the path as well. Because of late spring rains, we’ve enjoyed a season of blooming cacti. For years, I’ve taken these blossoms for granted. It is said that nature heals, and I’m finding that to be true. Because of freeing myself from constant focus on adoption issues, I’ve been more tuned in to the unique beauty of cacti. Also—don’t laugh—I learned a valuable lesson from these native Southwestern plants.
Bloom where you are planted, they seem to tell me. The cacti know that they may never be showcased in someone’s cherished garden, proudly displayed like heirloom roses or bragged on like proud dalhias. Many will be regarded as reminders of drought, dust, wind and harshness. They may be considered prickly pests, ugly opportunists who hang out with dead trees, surrounded by a scree of fallen pine needles, dry dirt, twigs and fallen pine cones.
No doubt, conditions here in the Southwest are dangerously dry. We may be running out of potable water and — according to many environmentalists — we are definitely running out of time. Still, one can

Not to be outdone, the prickly pear offers a radiant burst of yellow.

celebrate the lowly cactus as a plant that thrives without water and gives back with brilliant flowers.
It is amazing to find such unexpected beauty bursting forth from the lowly cacti. The “Triglo” claret cup boast scarlet blooms; prickly pears are festooned with blossoms  that range from lemon yellow to marigold, pale coral, pink and mauve. They are a source of unexpected joy, reminders that beauty exists everywhere, if only one has the eyes to see.

Would I do it Again?

Tags

adopting a new attitude, adoption, adoptive parents, Authenticity, Dealing with Adoption, Diaries, healing, memoir, struggles

“What’s Done is Done and can’t be Undone.” -Stephen King

Nowhere is this more true than with publishing a memoir. Let’s be honest. Maybe it isn’t always a good idea to reveal the past. Perhaps it is worse if the “revelation” is in written form, an intimate expose, a confessional, a putting of oneself under the microscope? In other words, why would I present excerpts from my daily journals?

And yet, that’s just what I did when publishing an adoption-focused memoir, The Goodbye Baby-A Diary about Adoption. I culled four decades of diaries and transcribed the passages that showed me growing up as someone who felt herself to be a burden, a girl who had to hide behind the facade of being successful and “normal.”  Twenty-three years of grappling with the need to reveal what it felt like to grow up adopted. This act of daring or craziness (or both) accomplished my goal.

Diaries from the past directed me to a better future.

The reactions to the book have been surprisingly favorable. Other adult adoptees, birthparents, adoptive parents, and readers interested in adoption issues have welcomed the The Goodbye Baby. Coming out with my angst-filled past has opened doors. Now that I realize what happened to me isn’t that “special,” the book has led me to a wonderfully supportive online adoption community, many members of whom are shining lights, providing inspiration and serving as mentors.

As one of the bright stars in cyberspace, Deanna Shrodes, wrote in a blog post, “You wake up and you’re still adopted.” She is so right; the facts remain. However, having come face to face with those adoption demons empowered me to stare them down. Talking was not enough. Years of therapy, while enlightening, never enabled me to separate from what happened so long ago. Coming out with the story, which I never could have done without the therapy, cleared the path for divorcing the “poor adopted me” syndrome.

“Happy and grateful” is the image much of the world has of the adopted child, or rather of how the adopted child SHOULD feel. Most adult adoptees I’ve met are grateful for being removed from foster care, the orphanage, or whatever dysfunctional situation. But happy? Perhaps not totally. Something has been lost that can never be replaced.

In answer to the initial question, would I do it again, the answer is YES. It was much better to come out with a book containing my personal truth about adoption than to deny its effect. Now, as I burn the final pages of the diaries themselves, I realize that I no longer define myself as an “adult adoptee,” but as an adult. I’m free to live my life.

Join Elaine every Monday for insights into “Life after Adoption Recovery”

Take your Brain for a Walk

Tags

Adoptee Recovery, adoption, Daily Practice, Dealing with Adoption, Fitness, Human potential, Neuroplasticity, Norman Doidge, Rewiring, Time to think, Walking

Walking and being in nature are key in my long, slow journey to adoption recovery. Let me give you some good reasons to take your brain out walking…

If you’ve been reading my blog all along or if this is your first time, welcome! My theme of ADOPTION has led me to write on related topics. These adoption-inspired ideas emerge, flow, and branch out. Today’s inspiration is from a new nonfiction favorite, Dr. Norman Doidge’s The Brain That Changes Itself: Stories of Personal Triumph from the Frontiers of Brain Science. In case after case, Doidge proves that not only can we recover from all manner of brain injuries and situations, we also have the ability to keep our mental functions sharp.

Because of modern medicine’s advances, we are living longer. While this is a good thing, it comes with the possibility of developing mental fragility. No wonder that so many people are interested in slowing cognitive decline. It’s commonly accepted that keeping the body fit is key to enjoying the “autumn years.” Increasingly, experts are learning that exercise is key to keeping the brain fit as well.

Scientists working on brain research found that participants between 55 and 80 who walk at least 30 minutes three times a week or more show better results in memory tests than their sedentary counterparts.

Walking builds up the connectivity between brain circuits. This matters because as we age, the connectivity between those circuits weakens, affecting how well we perform daily tasks such as driving. The verdict is out: aerobic exercise, such as brisk walking, helps revive those flagging brain circuits.

I’d like to offer a few walking suggestions:

If you already take a daily walk but more often use excuses not to do it, you can actually “work” while you wander. Observe nature. Look for signs of the changing seasons. Use your walking time to plan the novel, blog, poem, dinner menu or home project. The possibilities are endless.
Or, let’s say that on most days you can’t even get yourself out the door. I recommend teaming up with a “walking buddy.” Set up a regular day and be faithful to your self-created schedule.

After spending a portion of each day walking, I feel renewed and inspired. Even if you’re not addicted to walking, if you make it a habit, chances are, you will become a fan. You’ll be doing a favor for your body and your mind!

Join Elaine every Monday for her take on adoption and life.