On Meaningful Connections

     On my five hour drives to Tahoe, I usually listen to audiobooks.  It makes the trip very pleasant and I actually miss not being able to do it at times.  I love that chunk of time.  Currently, I am listening to a course called "Stress and the Human Body."  It's a "Great Courses" audiobook offering.  The lecturer is Dr. Robert Sapolfsky, a medical researcher and professor at Stanford.

      In studies on primate infants, it is the infants who are touched and held more frequently by their mothers who actually grow more, have better memories, function much more optimally than their counterparts who receive less attention.  In fact, in studies where primate infants are kept in isolation,
 their growth is stunted.   Their reaction to the isolation is chronic stress syndrome.  In extreme cases, they will die.

     On some level, I believe we all "mother" each other from the momentary passing smiles we choose to share with strangers to the day to day style in which we interact with those closest to us.  For myself, I can't explain why, but I have this sort of connection with the mountain.  She always welcomes me into her domain and is always trying to help me learn.  Beyond "mother nature," for me this relationship is personal and important.

     There is no connection more meaningful to me than the one I have with my husband.   Of course, I love him but there are moments that we both get on each others' nerves.  Nevertheless, in him, I have a lover, my best friend. the ultimate mentor (though not always as sympathetic as I'd wish) and, on some level, we are mothers for each other (i.e. we counsel each other, offer warmth and caring, listen, etc etc).

     Trust is a large obstacle in the formation of relationships for me.  I did not receive consistent care from my mother as she wasn't around (she was ill).  As a result, I have a tendency to look for mentors in different aspects of my life.  Sometimes I give my trust too easily (as with a poetry mentor who completely misjudged what I wanted from him (male, needless to day....small minds).  That relationship no longer exists and, in reality, never did.

    I had a ski mentor (also male).  As important as skiing feels for me (at one point it was a life raft in an ocean where PD was sucking me downward), you can imagine that this person would be highly meaningful to me.  Time will tell whether or not or to what extent that relationship survives.  If as I suspect, this man is kind but essentially always saw me as simply a "client," it will die and so it should. Or perhaps, it will evolve into its own form of friendship, unquestionably genuine, mutually supportive ( a relationship that threatens no others).  Perhaps I live in LALA land!

     I now have a woman ski coach and do not know her well enough to know how that relationship will evolve.  I think it will have stronger boundaries based on my past experiences.  I am willing to trust her however because she comes recommended by another woman ski mentor/friend whom I love (SO much easier to deal with other women!)

     I am once again involving myself with Team in Training---the ultimate mentorship program.......an absolute win/win and the coaches are excellent motivators and also know how to establish boundaries.

     I have a friend on the internet who is partially autistic. At times, our communication becomes a bit
garbled.  But she is so open, direct really, as well as so full of unquestionable goodness and love, that one csn't help but trust her.  In many ways,  she is one of the wisest people I know.  We are mentors for each other.  Her outlook on the world is one of the most open I know.

    We are visitors, spirits passing through life.  In a blink of the eye, it is over.  If we try to be conscious, to see beyond our preconceived filters/issues, maybe there are opportunities to bring a spirit of loving kindness rather than mistrust (I address this to myself) into each moment.  Perhaps we can send seeds of smiles out into the air around us and hope they will grow into strong trees that touch the sky.