Erma, with hope in her voice (almost always tempered with at least a modicum of worry for her friend), asks Sylvia, “Did you hit the ground running today?”
“Running? No. When my feet hit the floor this morning though, I didn’t stumble. I sat on the edge of the bed and stared, not at my feet but at the floor beneath them. It occurred to me that I could fall no farther.”
Upright and moving, she found comfort in the incidental reminders surrounding her that allowed her to forge ahead.
“Ooh-la-la-la-la. What a soothing feeling to carry with her today!”
“The floor seemed wonderfully solid. It was comforting to know I had fallen and could fall no farther. (Sylvia Plath)
Why does she write in the third person? Who is she?
If you’ve been following my blog here, and if you’ve managed to visit other fora on social media where this whole journey began, you know that I am SHE. You are SHE. All individuals who identify as female (although Sylvia & Erma hesitate to speak for all women) are SHE. Each of us is multi-dimensional. We are made up of those who have blazed trails before us, and we evolve as we set on new paths with those lessons in tow. For better or worse.
I choose third person because there is both a freedom and a security that come from its use. As I regain my footing after years of putting others first — not at their request but rather because it was easier for me to find purpose that way – I find myself to be often unrecognizable; and for the first time in forever, I am excited about becoming. I am full of fear, but I am more fearful of what will happen (to her) if she stays the course and chooses that which she already knows. That which she already knows has extinguished so many of her dreams and dampened the ground for any wild fires. It’s time to find the spark.
Today, as she took the road less travelled, she began to breathe again.
Sylvia: Erma, how have you survived that mother of all relationships? You know. Marriage?
Erma: Oh Sylvia, that’s a biggie. The question of all questions. Too early for wine or an old-fashioned, so put a fresh pot on.
As the cooler temperatures set in and the daylight hours grow shorter, Sylvia contemplates all the ways to bring possibilites for happiness to life. It seems a bit inconsistent though since autumn for many carries darker thoughts. Death and dormancy even for some. However, Sylvia, ever hopeful given the company she keeps and her best friend’s soothsaying abilities (Erma predicts that everything works out as it should in the end), is thinking about what makes people tick this time of year, especially other women who appear wildly happy with themselves and almost annoyingly contented in their marriages. And for the purpose of this conversation, marriage according to Sylvia means a long-standing commitment between two grown people who have vowed to be true to one another in good times and bad, yada-yada-yada, and who lack the possibility of easy escape or abandonment. How does one survive, thrive, grow, bloom, and blossom – keep the soil tilled so to speak, during and even after years of marriage?
Of course, as Sylvia has learned at Erma’s urging, a steaming cup of coffee and a daydream often help nourish the spirit and soothe the soul. On occasion, both even assistin maintaining a woman’s self-esteem and satisfying her amply. Undoubtedly, the recollection of Sylvia’s best cup of coffee which led to the conjuring of Cam’s bulging biceps and hypnotic hazel eyes often serves Sylvia well. And as Erma has told Sylvia time and again, it’s okay to wind your own clock to keep it ticking on and in your own time. Sylvia and most women, married and unmarried, need to know that lovers, partners, and spouses cannot keep time sufficiently for them if they haven’t spent the time on themselves uncovering, discovering, and exploring that which makes their their toes curl and their skin glisten.
Erma (looking for a little nosh to accompany the freshly brewed dark roast): Sylvia, I have a really simple recipe that only took me more than forty years years of marriage and togetherness to create and follow. On the surface, it’s pretty easy – to me anyway. You know, Sylvia, how you made me think about “to B or not to B” a while back? Well, I have my own alphabetical application that I use to keep the marriage and relationship ground alive. “I” before “U” always!
Sylvia (mug in hand as she hurries towards the carafe for a quick refill): Hold that thought, Erma. Something tells me I need to be sitting for this next piece of info. I’ve got a feeling I should even be taking notes.
Erma and Sylvia spend the next several hours discussing, sharing, and lamenting the lack of true and unbridled fulfilment in many relationships, but namely marriage. While Sylvia interjects her own tales of woe due to feeling less or smaller in her relationship, Erma repeats what she knows to be true after oh-so-many years of being committed to one person.
“Sylvia, there are only two ways to be fulfilled in this life. First, ask for what you want. Be clear. Crystal. Don’t leave your happiness and satisfaction to chance, hoping that your friend, lover, spouse, or partner will pick up on your cues and read your mind. Be specific. Be direct. You want eggs for breakfast and you know that only eggs will satisfy you completely, then why are you settling for oatmeal? Don’t be afraid to ask for eggs – and any way you want them! This leads to the second way to fulfilment, by the way, and I don’t think it’s coincidental. If you can’t get your eggs over-easy just the way you like them, want them, and need them, make them yourself. Often the only way to get something or to accomplish what you want and desire is to do it yourself. Anything and everything. This doesn’t mean you don’t want the person to share the meal, but it means that you know how to shop for, prepare, and feed yourself if they are unwilling, incapable, or unavailable. So, Sylvia, to recap: Ask for what you want. And if you don’t get what you want or don’t feel like asking, do NOT settle.
Erma collects her mug, places it gingerly in the kitchen sink, and turns to her friend with one final utterance before heading out. “To recap, Syl, remember that ‘I’ always precedes ‘u’ in every way imaginable.”
SHE’S SITTING HERE PRACTICING THE ALPHABET!
*********************************
“Always putting others first creates deep resentment, destroys your happiness, and is unsustainable. Putting yourself first allows you to meet your needs in the most skillful way. This, in turn, increases your happiness, joy, and capacity to love, so you can give freely and create healthy relationships.”– (Aziz Gazipura)
Once she realized that she had the monster within her, the monster she had allowed to decimate her self-esteem and destroy her self-worth, she began to rise. There were so many times when the monster would return – plague her with doubt, pummel her emotionally and spiritually to the point of exhaustion, nearly convince her that the only way forward was to succumb to its power and settle for joylessness – she knew she wanted more and she knew she was more. How though? How would she rise from the ashes?
She would set herself free with her words. It didn’t matter if no one else would read them or understand them. The mere act of putting pen to paper, recognizing that she was the one who muddied the waters and sullied her own spirit by allowing others’ judgments and opinions to define her, her pen became her sword. She began to slay the monster.
Wednesday Wisdom: Face your demons. Decide to beat the shit out of them. And if you need help, ask. There is a tribe out there that has your back! You are something!! YOU ARE. ******************************** I have this demon who wants me to run away screaming if I am going to be flawed, fallible. It wants me to think I’m so good I must be perfect. Or nothing. I am, on the contrary, something: a being who gets tired, has shyness to fight, has more trouble than most facing people easily. If I get through this year, kicking my demon down when it comes up, I’ll be able, piece by piece, to face the field of life, instead of running from it the minute it hurts. ~Sylvia Plath
“I see you. I know you are here,” Erma assures Sylvia.
“I appreciate that, Erma, but you cannot make me see my own reflection. Only I can do that. And I’m beginning to look for myself which I realize is more important than being seen by anyone else.” ************** When you finally become visible to your own eye, you will not allow yourself to be made to feel invisible by anyone else. *****************
“She stared at her reflection in the glossed shop windows as if to make sure, moment by moment, that she continued to exist.” ~Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar
Some days, most if truth be told and we are truly committed to appreciating and living in the present, we should only pay attention to what is right in front of us. It is what can bring us the most peace and comfort. It is okay to put on blinders once in a while; they allow us to keep our eyes open and focused on what is important. And more often than not, we discover, Sylvia & Erma discover, the what is a who. Who is most important in your life? You.
A bit worn this midweek but in the best way – from multiple days of self-care, a change of scenery, and a bounty of unconditional love – the “blinders” are helping. Twenty-four hours of worrying, lamenting, and second-guessing herself gets wearisome each day, so Sylvia opts for the here and now. The blinders can be eye-opening and restorative. ****************
Some days, 24 hours is too much to stay put in, so I take the day hour by hour, moment by moment. I break the task, the challenge, the fear into small, bite-size pieces. I can handle a piece of fear, depression, anger, pain, sadness, loneliness, illness. I actually put my hands up to my face, one next to each eye, like blinders on a horse. ~Regina Brett
Hazelnut eyes. Cherry lips. Milky complexion. A bit of a muffin top. A few spoonfuls of cottage cheese (in places that only she can see). Our body parts and appearance are often compared to food, from all types of the required food groups to even some of the more forbidden and indulgent. We move through life allowing ourselves to be both pictures of a veritable feast for the eyes and a shameful smorgasbord of gluttony and a lack of self- control.
Today, after Sylvia and Erma exchange pointed comments about their own diets, they force each other to see the beauty and wonder of their midlife bodies.
Yep, a feast. A smorgasbord. Delicacies and deliciousness resulting from lives well-lived and survived. Joys celebrated with cakes and muffins; disappointments swallowed with milkshakes or wine; dilemmas pondered and cracked like nuts.
A well-balanced diet looks different on each of us, so feed your soul – mind, body, and spirit – in your own way.
“All of you shows and is multiplied in everything you do, so know yourself and take care of yourself first, so you can live on purpose and contribute from a place of abundance and overflow.” ~Anton Uhl, FEEDING BODY, MIND AND SOUL: How What Goes In Changes Everything
It is the last day of summer, and Sylvia and Erma are feeling less ambivalent about summer’s ending and autumn’s beginning.
“The year has four perfect pieces, Sylvia. I love its definition, don’t you?” Erma asks.
Sylvia, after a long day of trying to arrange her thoughts and her schedule, considers both Erma’s comment and query before offering her perspective.
“It is four pieces, yes, but I wouldn’t say perfect. Four unpredictable chunks of time. And honestly, that is what I like most about the year. It is broken into parts, and we don’t try to make those parts more or less than they are. Even when the seasons don’t end or begin as they should weather-wise, we accept them as they are. In the end, they always make a year. They make up a whole.”
Erma, very aware of Sylvia’s penchant for overthinking which occasionally borders on wearying rumination, nods her head in gentle agreement. **************** Pieces do not have to fit together perfectly. They are not always indicative of brokenness. In the end, their edges – their beginnings and endings – may create a different pattern, but they still result in wholeness.
You are not broken. You are whole regardless and maybe even because of imperfections.
"ARE YOU THERE, ERMA? IT'S ME, SYLVIA." 