561. A few things before I go.

Don't know when my next post will be, so here is an extra long one.
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This past summer, I spent some time with an interesting woman. I'll call her "Feodora." She and her husband were both born in Russia--she in the early 40's, he in the late 20's. I enjoyed hearing her stories about her life as a child living in communist Russia.

Over the months, as she shared her stories, I got a clearer picture--an ugly picture--of life in Russia from the perspective of a woman whose family enjoyed a level of status and privilege in a country that attempted (forced) to level all peoples to one level. Feodora's father was in charge of a community farm, and they lived outside of the village where her father worked.

She and I barely had anything in common. Our interest in theatre and symphony music was our only bond. Sadly, it was a challenge being around Feodora because she was extremely negative and more-than-slightly paranoid. She is a wealthy woman, and most of her friendships over the years ended because, she claimed, all of friends were deeply jealous of her, her marriage, and her wealth. Half of those people, she believed, were either out for her money or to take advantage of her.

For a couple of years now, I've been a sometimes-student of a style of communication that's been very effective (at least for me) in relating with difficult people. It's called "non-violent communication" (NVC), and it goes much deeper than merely avoiding the use of harsh speech.

The time I spent with Feodora challenged me to go further with my NVC practice and ultimately taught me two valuable lessons: One, I don't need to it personally or blame myself when people choose to act from their neurosis rather than their heart and rational mind. (Even if they do have the excellent excuse of having a crappy childhood.) Two, I don't have to be around or suffer these unfortunate souls. Even though I already "knew" these lessons, I learned them at a deep level: I'm done. I will no longer value "being nice" (ignoring red flags, the writing on the wall, and signals of mistrust--which isn't really being nice, it's being dumb) over my peace of mind and happiness again.

We all know the analogy (and thus, consequence) of "playing with fire." It just takes some of us (me! me! me!) longer to learn this.

I might---most likely, not--share the bizarre story of how our friendship ended at a later date. Right now, I'd rather not re-live the exhausting details.

It's. Just. Not. Worth. It.

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I'm going up the coast again. I'll be leaving in a few hours for a women's workshop in beautiful Jenner. The workshop is fun, and I always leave with fresh perspectives and insights. This will be the 4th one of this kind I've attended. One of its goals is to facilitate explorations of collaborative creativity and creative collaboration with others. Complicated stuff. Really!

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I saw Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind for the third time last night. I often go back and forth about whether or not I would erase painful memories from my past. After a few minutes of deliberation, I always arrive at the same conclusion: I am, because (or in spite) of the millions of moments prior to this one.

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After watching Roman Holiday the other night, I fell victim to serious hat lust. Audrey Hepburn starred in Roman Holiday, and I was reminded of my favorite movie of hers, My Fair Lady. (I've probably seen it a dozen times.) In My Fair Lady, Hepburn is introduced to the world of high society at a horse race. Women are in gorgeous gowns and their hats are glorious expressions of style and femininity.

My recent visit of Churchill Downs confirmed that Kentucky Derbies and hats are indeed in my future. When? That remains to be seen. I'm convinced that I'm half way there though, because like the other things in life I've deeply wanted and gotten: I've seen it in my dreams.

Kentucky Derby hats on display in Churchill Down's Museum.
I'll take seven, please. One of each.

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My car celebrated an exciting milestone last weekend:

100,000 looks good on her.
She still needs to show her I.D.,
because she can easily pass for 10,000.

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Until next time, whenever that will be...