Dear Girlfriends,

I find myself struggling today. I'm fighting to keep my hands off the string that controls my kite of relationship. It's a bitter battle and in order to win, I must remind myself constantly to live in a state of release. Trying to manage this situation - physically, mentally, and emotionally - is a losing battle when trying to control a kite in the winds of addiction.

My kite metaphorically represents my relationships with those I love, and for too long, I have expertly tugged on the line, trying to control the will, the behavior, and the desires of my son.

Over the past two-and-a-half years of Scott's recovery, I've had some real hands-on practice. A little over a year ago, I found myself exhausted one day, when Scott briefly relapsed after a year of sobriety. I'll never forget that day. He called me while I was at work. I listened (completely devastated) and I cried (selfishly as much for myself as for him). Then, I hung up the phone and laid my head down on my desk. And I finally, finally, after 27 years of holding my arms in the air, let go of the kite.

I made a decision at that moment to set Scott free to make his choices - good ones and bad. I set Scott free to become a man, rather than a son. And I set myself free from the fantasy that I was in control.

Choosing to live in a state of release is almost impossible for high-achievers; we know not how to release our hold on a dream, even when it is evident that it's not our dream to live. Choosing to live in a state of release is not an easy one for mothers - whether our children are struggling with substance abuse or wrangling with college admission. And choosing to live in a state of release is not easy for wives, either - whether our marriages are rock-solid or teetering on the edge. As women, we're genetically inclined to believe that we can manage it or fix it - regardless of what "it" is. We drive ourselves crazy trying to make things happen, but only find peace when we finally stop.

Because I am an action-oriented person, I had come to believe that my actions could positively affect Scott's outcome. It took me nearly thirty years to learn that I have only, and then only sometimes, a small influence over others' decisions. Good thing I came to this conclusion when I did, or else I would have a hard time writing to you today. Scott relapsed, again, last month.

Relapses are often part of the difficult journey for addicts and when they occur, all the hard work and the trust that has been formed over the months and years quickly evaporates. As it did with us. So again - he starts over with day one of the sobriety count. And again - I remind myself to let go of my kite to live in a state of release versus the state of control.

Yesterday, Scott was robbed and beaten as he waited on a bus (in an area of town he shouldn't have been in). I awoke in the middle of the night and wrestled with my kite as fear took hold of my imagination. Tomorrow, he takes a bold step into a new world as he takes his first college course. And, hope flickers. But the future will be whatever it will be and I no longer entertain the thought that I can affect it, one way or the other.

Girlfriend, are your arms tired? Are you just worn out from living in a state of control? Choose to operate in a state of release - it will free you both.

Letting go,

Ellen

Posted by Ellen on July 6, 2009 4:33 PM  |  Category: A State of Mind

Dear Girlfriends,

Last week, Steve and I were trying hard to bring some "normal" back to our lives. He had surprised me with dinner reservations to celebrate the 20^th anniversary of our first date. It had been a rough week (and it was only Wednesday). In the midst of our drama with Scott, Steve's dad - Al - took a sudden turn for the worse as the terminal cancer he has been fighting reared its ugly head, letting us know that the end was near. But before our entrees arrived, our week got a bit harder. Steve's cell phone rang and we learned that someone else who meant the world to us was gone: Harvey died.

Harvey was Steve's second cousin who was - and I'm not exaggerating - perhaps the finest man that walked the face of the earth. I could tell you about his phenomenal business success, about the beautiful daughters he raised, or about his exceptional marriage of 43 years to Carole (my other earthly idol). I could write to you about Harvey's passion for anything and everything and how he clung to life because he knew, better than anyone I know, how to live every moment with true enthusiasm.

But the legacy that Harvey left me - and probably every other person he met - was the understanding that to Harvey, I was important. Harvey was gifted at making everyone in his presence feel significant.

Harvey never wasted an opportunity to make his engagement with others an event. Because he lived in San Diego, Steve had been in Harvey's presence less than a dozen times. But Steve said he could remember every one of those times like it was yesterday.

Regardless of one's age, station in life, or past, Harvey engaged with us as if we were royalty. Harvey could do this with ease because he lived in a state of significance, himself. Understanding that he played a critical role in every interaction he had with every human being in his path, he managed to elevate the confidence of those around him. Harvey knew when we met 20 years ago that he was important to making this new future bride with her two kids in tow feel welcomed and important, not just to the family circle - but to him. After meeting Harvey, I knew I belonged.

Had Harvey operated in a state of anonymity he could not have possibly made me feel so highly valued. His positive energy begat positive energy. If he had believed he was inconsequential, I'm sure that negative energy would have been contagious, too.

As I write you this morning, I watch my father-in-law sleep. He has stopped eating all together except when a nurse's aide named Chonqualia sits at his side. Her confidence and warmth and her million dollar smile indicate to me that she, too, lives in a state of significance as she coaxes Al to take "just a bite". I've known Qualia for only a few days, but I can tell you this: Al knows he's important when he's in her presence.

So, if you will, in tribute to Harvey, Chonqualia, and to those who might have made you feel important sometime in your life, I hope you will join me this week to choose to operate in a state of significance. If not for yourself - do it for all those you leave in your wake.

Significant because Harvey made it so,

Ellen

Posted by Ellen on July 23, 2009 4:40 PM  |  Category: A State of Mind