Guess Some Things Stay The Same

I was going through some furniture we're donating. One piece was an old cedar chest that is just too bulky and not that attractive, but inside I found a lot of my memorabilia from my youth. I found my high school letter with my softball pin. I found the banner that my team made for me when they TP'd my house after I made varsity. I found my letter from my first high school where I played basketball. I found a letter that was sent to me after I wrote this teen actor that was so NOT known that when he didn't sign his last name, I couldn't remember what it was or who he was. Oh well.

But one thing I found was from a group in Dayton, OH that did personality testing & verbal IQ testing. My dad had me go through it when I was a junior in high school. I was trying to get into Miami University in Ohio, and one of the doctors, Dr. Scheidler, wrote a letter of recommendation with a review of all the testing and his interpretation of the test results.

I didn't get into Miami, but I did get into University of Denver.

It's just so interesting how much that was true then, is still true. Makes me evaluate the "nature vs. nuture" balance when our personalities form. I thought I'd share with you, what he shared.

TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN:

Ann Patricia Watson came in to SSS Consulting for testing and interviewing on April 9, 1980. She has asked that I send the test results to you in hopes that it will help her in being considered for entrance into your university.

We administered the Wechsler Adult Intelligence Scale for Children, Form R, and her intelligence was outstandlingly high. Even though she had difficulty with the Digit Span or memory for numbers, she had a verbal IQ of 123, a performance IQ of 132, and a full scale IQ of 131. As you know, the average IQ of the average college graduate is 120. We can assure you that this young lady as the intellectual ability to succeed at any level of education. She has not used her intelligence as well as she might have in the past, although I understand that she is improving. In fact, I recommend that she take a good developmental reading course. On the Wide-Range Achievement Test her reading level was 10.8 grade level, which is slightly below her grade level and far below her intelligence level. Her Arithmetic was at the 11.3 grade level and she was in the eleventh grade when we tested her. She is capable of doing much better than that.

[Can I just say, I've shown GREAT restraint in not commenting on a lot of this!]

We gave her the Guilford-Zimmerman Temperament Survey and it shows she has high drive and energy. She is a hard worker and is fairly open and spontaneous. In fact, on occasion, she will act and speak without thinking. She is very assertive and outspoken and she can be very firm in making decisions. Someday she would like to be a leader. She is sociable and outgoing and she mixes well with others. She gets moody on occasion and when she does, it is the price she pays for keeping anger bottled up inside. She is inclined to be a perfectionist; by a perfectionist I mean that no matter how well she does she is never quite satisfied. She feels that she could have done better. She has a moderate amount of anger within her but keeps it hidden. She is very reflective and meditative and she likes to think and plan as well as to do. She is very reflective and meditative and she likes to think and plan as well as to do. She was more influenced by a father figure than a mother figure in her early developmental years.

We gave her our own personality test, the Self Descriptive Index. This test compares her to managers and salespeople whereas the Guilford-Zimmerman compares her to the general population. The norms on the Self Descriptive Index are much tougher.

She is very outgoing and sociable and she can be firm in making decisions and dealing with people. She is very tolerant and accepting of ideas and values different from her own and gets along well with people in her daily behavior. She admits to some tension but no more so than average. The score is lowered because she was truthful in taking the test. She has an average amount of energy and in a work situation, she is more of a thinker and a planner than a doer. In work situations, she is free of moodiness and depression. She is competitive and has a strong need to succeed. She is spontaneous, open, and natural and you know where you stand with her at all times. She is never complacent and is always striving to improve. She is cheerful and optimistic.

We gave her our Motivation Analysis Profile which indicates that she is very persistent and persevering. She is moralistic and is very accurate and correct. She is not afraid of hard work and is very accurate and she will keep long hours to get the job done. She does not like parties or a lot of small talk. She lets a few people get close to her and she is capable of loving and being loved but most people she tends to hold at a distance. She likes her privacy and she likes to think and plan. She likes to manage and to lead and she has no difficulty dealing with conflict and confrontation. She likes to command attention and will assume complete responsibility for her own decisions. She has a need to avoid being obligated to duty and she is very independent. She does not like to be bound in by 'shoulds' and 'oughts.' She has a need to avoid extensive group work and she likes to run her own show.

Lastly, we gave Ann the Strong Vocational Interest Inventory. Her strongest interests were in merchandising and business management. We think she would like management, marketing and sales, although she also has high social service interests and likes to be of service to others.

If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to call me.

Sincerely,

Charles H. Scheidler, Ph. D
President

=============

You that know me, be the judge!

When Did 9:30PM Become A Good Bedtime?

Tonight I sit, slightly askew on my recliner, laptop propped on the left arm with the help of my left thigh of my legs that are tucked up on the set of the chair. It's 9:30, and I've just returned from a walk with the dog. The air had been crisp and the moon, a clear, bright beacon to continue the walk far past the dog's "business" being done.

And it hit me. I was going home to crawl in bed. 9:30PM on a Saturday night, and I was yearning for the comfort of my pillow-topped bed and Kindle. When did this happen?

Shouldn't I be hosting a BBQ for my 

softball team that just played 4 games 

and won the championship, and serve 

my special Sangria?

Shouldn't I be at a friend's, sitting on the porch sipping a glass of wine? Shouldn't I be out at a bustling bistro with Alan, maybe Alex, under the stars and surrounded by muffled laughter? Shouldn't I be sitting by a bonfire up at a cabin on the lake, way north and west of here, toasting marshmallows and making smores while bitching about the smoke blowing my direction? Shouldn't I be sitting at that same cabin, fire dying down, and looking skyward to see millions and billions of stars so that it looks like somebody shook a powdered donut on blue/black velvet?

I'm still yearning for bed. My eyes are weary and my mind is running over a list of things I should have done, things I should have said and things I shouldn't have. Even if I go to sleep, will I sleep? And if I sleep, what the heck will invade that quiet time? Will the images of my youth in New Jersey be the setting, only to be invaded with an ill-placed building with elevators that are suppose to take me to the top, only to break loosed and begin to fall? Will I dream of my dog, Thor, who I grew up with? Will we play and laugh, and will he finally lay down with me to sleep like he did when I was young? Will I be visited by my grandmothers or grandfathers? Will my mom show up and sit down at a Starbucks with me to catch up on my life, Alan, Alex, Doug?

Still weary. Still wondering.

I look around me and I see small projects that need completed. I see school supplies that need organized. I see bags of empty shoe boxes that need to be thrown away. I see a dog crate I've been meaning to donate to local pet store that does rescues. I see papers, lots of papers. Some are notes, some bills, some are ticket stubs from a movie. I see the piles of life moments I've created in my minor league hoarding. I hear the load of laundry I threw in before taking the dog for a walk, so as to get it done tomorrow morning. I hear the thumping of a sub woofer in a large SUV double parked outside with interestingly dressed women preparing to go out.

It could be overwhelming.

But I'm tired. I think I'll sleep and take a look around tomorrow, with new, rested eyes.

A Class of '60 Graduation Speech

While going through my grandmother's hope chest, we found lots of interesting pieces: my grandfather's report cards from K-12; my grandmother's report cards; both of their diplomas from college; and even more interesting to me, my mother's high school graduation speech.

These are her thoughts, for that day, and provides some interesting insights into her thought process.

Class of 1960, Lapel High School • Lapel, IN 

 Graduation is something much more than leaving behind us our high school career and preparing to take our place in society. Whether we go to work or go to college, we must meet a challenge for which you, our parents and teachers have tried to prepare us. You have sought to teach us by precept and example, the many attributes of a happy and useful life.

But, we now have reached the point at which we become something more than your children or your students -- we mow become individuals in our own right. This does not mean, however, that we will forget all you've taught us and all you've stood for. These things are too much a part of us to be cast thoughtlessly aside as we receive our diplomas and leave this school, and possibly, our homes. Realizing that those things you have done for us were done in a spirit of love and responsibility, we feel that we must fulfill our responsibility to you by endeavoring to lead the kind of life you have sought for us and to be the type of person you have prayed we would be.

We have begun to realize that the development of our personality is truly a unique experience. We can imitate those around us and be acceptable, but then we lose our own identity and become only a rather disorganized, spineless mixture of Jim and John and Cathy and Sue and all our associates. We are no longer ourselves and can expect no one else to treat us as a person — different and unique.

Daring to be ourselves can be illustrated easily and simply by something as elementary as a dress. How often do we choose a dress or a shirt because it is the color, style, or length that everyone else is wearing? Quite possibly we look dreadful in "orange ice," but we haven't the will to differ in any way from the fad or style craze.

More important, tho, is daring to be ourselves in our thinking. Many things we accept as being right because everyone is doing it. Surely, there is no more false philosophy than this. We have seen so often the unthinking fickleness of the crowds -- today's hero is tomorrow's heel. In the time when it is our decision as to whether we follow the crowd or stick with what we know to be right, let's hope we have the moral courage to hold to our convictions and know that it is not necessarily right just because it's common practice.

Senior prom with my dad

Similarly, we are often swayed into believing in false doctrines or policies because it seems that the majority of the people are advocating for them. How dangerous this can be when we stop to think that communist or socialist propaganda is often candy-coated to appeal to us as being worth-while reform. Certainly we must dare to be ourselves here and think through these high-sounding propositions and decide if they coincide with our beloved principles of freedom, liberty and private enterprise. Would they seek to deprive us of even a tiny portion of our rights as Americans? Would they attempt to control our schools, our businesses, our pocketbooks, or our lives? This is our challenge to meet and our dare to be taken to inform ourselves and stand for what we truly believe to be the American Way.

Moreover, we, as young adults, have begun to examine our beliefs in God and to dare to follow Him according to the dictates of our conscience. Most of us have been reared in Christian homes and have pledged ourselves to a Church and its doctrines. Thus far we have believed because, and as, our parents have believed. Now, we review our convictions in the light of our recently gained individualism and begin to ask "Why?" We do not disbelieve, but we want to know the reasons behind our beliefs. Parrot-like learnings is not good practice in school, so why should it be a good practice for our churches to follow? We dare to question and decide for ourselves the manner in which we will try to follow our God.

Job's Daughters installation

The past few years have been years of educational reform. You, as parents, but more as teachers, have begun to change your ideas of schooling; of what is necessary and what is not. These movements toward excellence in education are admirable, but one very fundamental element is missing from our concept of learning. It is a dare this class and the classes to follow must accept if we as a nation are to be intellectually strong. This is the concept of elevating good scholarship to a more prominent place in our society.  The "brain" or "egghead" has too long been the butt of many a cruel joke told by some know-nothing who by some quirk of society has been accepted as the average American student.

It is, therefor, up to us, as young adults, to work toward renovating the feelings of ourselves and those whom we know, so that the excellent scholar may receive the credit due him if we are the remain a strong nation.

These are only a few of the most significant dares that the members of this Class of 1960 must accept if we hope to truly be ourselves. We hope to make this community or this nation just a little better place in which to live. This is our challenge, our dare, and to accept it we must remember the famous quotation: "Unto thine own self be true."
______________________________________________________________


For me, it's some insights into my "young" mom. It was a mere 3 years after this that she gave birth to me. Another year and 11 months after that, she gave birth to my brother.

It was about 7 years after that when she embraced her "bleeding heart liberalism" and was a very active feminist and feminist writer in the 70s.

It's so funny what you think when you're 18 and heading out into the world as an adult... and where you get to when you're 50. I NEVER would have guessed I'd be here, but I'm sure glad I am.

Generation Lost

I just spent a week down at my grandmother's home, with my aunt, going through photos, glassware and grandmother's hope chest. So many memories, so many giggle moments like when we pulled out the knitted suit Grandmother had made for herself. It was pink, not pale, more rich without being fuchsia. It was the only article of clothing I'd ever seen her make that added 20 lbs to you when you wore it, and it was heavy!

Grandmother (2nd from right) and Granddad
(far right) with their friends the Hoots.

That moment and many others this past week reminded me how much is lost from my grandparents generation.

Both sets of my grandparents came from poor families, during the depression. My grandfather Watson was kicked out of his home at age 11, when his mom remarried. He lived from family to friend, picking up jobs here and there. My grandmother Watson was the daughter in a family of 6 total, where her father was a conductor on a train and her mom had had polio and got around with the help of some crutches (that she used into her 80s, as she stood by the sink washing dishes at my grandmother's home). My granddad Watson ended working at Guide Lamp, and was involved in one of the first official sit down strikes when unions were formed. My grandmother worked as a cook in the elementary school kitchen and again, active in her church and gave more to others than she ever expected back. Both so hard working, and loving people.

But the memories this past week were inspired through my Beanblossom side of the family.

Granddad in the marines.

I remember the stories from my grandfather about hunting for anything to eat, including squirrels, rabbits, whatever they could find. I saw the land his father and he farmed, with a plow and a horse. It was rolling hills, tough soil, not an easy childhood. My grandmother was one of 8, and the oldest girl of 6. In household where a piece of gristle (a gelatatinous fatty piece of meat) was found on a window sill after dinner, and the children where hit with a switch til someone confessed for the waste. My Aunt Ruth never owned up til much later in life.

But they both moved past their lot in life. They both became teachers, with my Grandfather becoming a principal and then superintendent of schools. At my grandfather's funeral, well over 300 hundred visitors came through at his viewing, most having had him as a teacher or principal, speaking about how he was tough but fair, and how he would be missed. Grandmother passed much later, in her 90s, but the students still came out and spoke of how they loved her and how much they had learned.

But I digress... back to their being teachers. It meant that summers were their down time, and time was filled with everything from personal projects, to traveling with their girls, to visiting friends, to church projects, to their small patch of garden that was mindfully attended.

My grandfather enjoyed his woodworking, and in retirement, his stain glass pieces he made. My grandmother sewed, crocheted, knitted, created pottery pieces and other crafty projects that resulted large quilts for our family or Christmas themed clothing during that season. And when I visited them in Phoenix, there was always a huge puzzle started that we all worked on while we talked.

They both took extreme pride in their work, and it was always done with love and near perfection.

I can't count the times during the week I heard Sue (my aunt) refer to my grandfather's pieces when people commented on the beautiful work, or gorgeous wood, or misinterpreted the piece as antique when it was his reproduction of an antique piece. Or the times that we said, "well, grand(mother) actually made that," or "that's not for sale, we can't let that leave the family."

A quilt made for Sue.

All of this resulted in my awareness of what their generation actually "did" to generate the things they owned or had in the house. They passed some of these down to their two girls. Sue does a beautiful job with stain glass and sewed her dress for my wedding. My mom begrudgingly sewed when she had to hem pants or fix a hole, but encouraged me to learn crocheting and knitting from grandmother. My endeavors resulted in a plethora of scarves and potholders.

It just hit me in the face that all those skills, all that self-sufficiency is being lost. I've tried being crafty, which has resulted in some successes and equal failures, but never could rival my grandparents.

My grandfather actually built a house they lived in. He build another house for others to live in. He put an addition on their house. We found clothing my grandmother had made for my mom and aunt, when they were little. We uncovered a numerous treasures they created together and separately. It humbles me in my apathetic tact I often take in a day.

Necessity is the mother of invention, well, it's also the mother of adapting and survival. It takes idle hands and denies the devil.

You'll notice the multipiece puzzle on the table!

Tonight I sit here, at my computer, playing a game or two of Candy Crush while replying to work emails and making a list for shopping this weekend. I could be sanding the drywall mud in our newly walled storage space. I could be repainting the upstairs bathroom after my poor job the first time. I could be working with Alex on his writing skills and comfort level. I could pull out my jewelry making tools and make 4 or 5 pairs of earrings for future gifts. I could be doing any number of things that would be much more creative and much more satisfying, but I don't.

This past week was a reminder, a reminder of all those visits with them, all those projects I "helped" with as a child, all those moments talking and laughing and learning. It was a reminder of how much we can lose, if we don't pay attention and if we don't listen.

Middle Age... Living it...

A lot of times I post just to try to "write-it-out" and utilize the blog as self-help therapy! Those of you who join me, well, I guess you're just gluttons for my self-indulgence.

As I'm rapidly approaching the age of fifty, I have been looking backward to see how far I've come, what I've learned and assess what I still need to master.

The conclusion?

I've come pretty far, I've learned a lot and I have a lot more to learn. Now, all that learning may not take place in this lifetime, but I'm going to do my best to try and better my soul a bit more, so the next trip has a head start on things.

So, per my self evaluation, I've identified a consistent situation and learning that needs more attention. Self confidence seems to be at issue through review, current and future learnings. I have made great strides, but it's an underlying issue that has not been resolved. And when it rears it's ugly head, it's the one aspect of my personality that causes the greatest damage.

You would think that self-confidence only affects the person who is lacking in it, but that would be inaccurate. It affects anyone within the circle of friendship with that person.

You, as a friend, seek to minimize the lack of self confidence with words of encouragement or a smack-down of logical arguments of why it's just plain silly. The continuing need to reassure, over time, becomes frustrating because you know what a good person this person is, and how they shouldn't be so insecure, but your words seem to have no meaning or effect. Eventually, you give up or ignore it.

These are insecure people who crave the self-assurance from their friends with such need, they never change their behavior or actually "learn" from this situations. They stay in the "needy" stage.

I can say I moved past that stage a long time ago, but I have friends who are stuck. While I try to help them, it is tiring, but so worth it when they "learn" the lesson, and begin to move past it.

My insecurity is usually a silent, internal killer. It is a small voice that tells me, I don't measure up, there's always someone better. The voice that says, "you're replaceable, you are good, but not good enough." It's that moment of doubt that makes say something you shouldn't in hopes that you're showing how much you know.

At 49, they are fewer and farther between, but they are there.

I've taken to quieting my mind and reminding myself that it's my own internal voice, not necessarily a reality. I take a few deep breaths. I remind myself of the things I know to be true, and focus on what's good with the world.

Nine times out of ten, this works.

It has to be coupled with sleep, exercise and logic. A big, heavy dose of logic.

I don't always win the battle, but in the end I'll win the war.

I've surrounded myself with people I respect for the way they attack the life they have, in hopes of joining them in the realm. There are some out there, that I watch with awe, as they just "do"... they are so Zen without trying. (Truly Zen, not posers) I watch how the lack of "fear of failure" propels them into a life well lived. I observe, I try and sometimes I succeed, which enables me to try again. And when I fail, instead of wallowing, I look for the lesson... what did I learn?

I'll get there, I've got time. It may take me a day, or a week, or a year... or the rest of my lifetime. The difference is, I'm ready. I want to feel that sense of calm and understanding that comes from an enlightened soul. I will earn it, because I deserve it, because I'm open to it. And when you open the door, and walk through with the right attitude, the world is yours.

Sociability Lost

I feel the need to "talk it out," with "it" being my social ineptitude.

There was a time that I use to pride myself on the ability to head out, by myself, and go to a huge party. I actually reveled in the ability to walk in and socialize around the room for hours. I was in the zone. It's where I shone. I got the "I don't know how you can do that, I need at least two friends with me to go into that madhouse!"

Our yearly Christmas Dinner with friends,
but missing Tracy, Glenn & Helen

Oh, how the mighty socializer has fallen.

Last night I attended a retirement party for the woman who hired me at Edelman. It was a lovely event at the Arts Club of Chicago. There were roughly 60-70 people, 30-40 of whom I knew and worked with regularly.

Simple, right? Should be nothing for a woman who use to work the room of 300-400 like a pro, right?

Wrong.

The sudden increase in temperature of my body, coupled with the Sahara dry mouth I was experiencing, reminded me of my inability to navigate through the social expectations of even small groups.

I can't decide if it's age, or that personality change that came with mom's passing or some other quirk I'm developing.

Talking has never been an issue for me, but now it's small talk, it's chit chat, it's sometimes feeling like I'm talking too much or I'm "on". It's not an issue with small groups of friends. It's more when it's groups of people who are acquaintances or if I don't have at least one person in the group that "knows" me, a refuge to be myself. I worry that I may insert my foot in my mouth among those who "sorta" know me. That these people who DON'T really know me, will figure out what a bundle of insecurity I can be, that I'm not the strong, independent, funny persona I project in mixed company. They'll call my bluff. They'll.... k n o w...

... and they'll tell someone... (yes, even in my insecurity, I have a healthy ego, thinking I'm worthy of "news spreading")

And it's more than the inability to have a casual conversation or be pithy and funny, it manifests itself in physical reactions now. I thought it was hot flashes, and they'd just pick up regularity with the stress I would feel in those situations, but I'm starting to believe it's not. It's just the stress of the situation, making me "hot," and not in the good way.

I know part of my problem is my bullshit quotient. I just can't do "fluff" talk anymore. I want to have real conversations, or I want to have those "one-up" laughter conversations. And when I am at a loss for conversation, I find myself devolving to gossipy talk which only embarrasses me and shames me later.

To me, gossipy stuff is conversation when you're trying to fill the silence, which makes a double-edged sword for someone like me who's having problems with sociability.

That's why, as of late, I don't do big gatherings. I stick to hanging with my family, or with my close friends who "know" me, and where my safe zone is huge.

I don't want my acquaintances to take this personally. I don't want people to NOT invite me to events. I just want to talk it out, in hopes that I can somehow work my way through it, looking forward to some enlightenment as to why this switch in my personality.

I'll get there, but something tells me that smaller, more intimate gatherings are in my future with the occasional large celebration that would have more to do with celebrating a friend's milestone or major accomplishment.

Don't take it personally, please, it's me... not you!

Our little talks...

I love dropping off Alex at school in the morning.

I use to drop him off and pick him up, but Alan's taken to picking him up early. This slight change in schedule has had a huge impact. It has cut down on the number of homework issues and tear-filled arguments (sometimes me being the tearful one.)

But it's the mornings where I can get some nuggets from him, some insights into what makes Alex, Alex. It's only a 10-15 minute ride, give or take traffic and construction, but what I learn in those precious few stolen moments is immeasurable.

This morning is a case in point.

We have been talking a lot lately about the "cool table" and who sits there. He doesn't (outwardly) care if he sits there or not, although he is invited to plop his butt and lunch alongside the chosen few. But lately he has chosen to sit with his friends who are not so lucky to be invited to the 4th Grade Exhaulted "Cool" Table. He does it because he doesn't want his other friends to feel left out, and if they aren't invited, then he goes where they are sitting and eats his lunch.

I believe him when he says the "cool table" is dumb. I believe him when he says he just wants to sit with his friend to make him feel better. I believe him when he tells me most stuff.

I know he's holding back when he says, "I don't remember," to the question of "was someone being mean to you?"

The reason I bring this up, was again, the conversation we had this morning. We had been talking about the cool table, when he said, "You know, I use to hate my glasses."

Wow, where did that come from?

I had to ask, "why?"

He replied, "The first day I wore them to school a couple kids told me a couldn't play a game that all my friend's were playing because I wore glasses."

Me, "Who would say a thing like that?"

Him, "I don't remember, they just did."

Me, "But you don't hate wearing them now, do you?"

Him, "No. I like them. I couldn't see the board without them. And I can play games."

Me, "You're not going to tell me who said it, are you?"

Him, (shaking his head back and forth) "Mom, I don't remember."

In those morning conversations, I realize how much my son internalizes. I realize how resilient he really is, despite my fears. I realize if I don't push, he'll talk. He realizes (or is starting to) if he talks...I'll try not to push.

The time in the afternoon with Dad has been revealing as well. It's amazing what 3 hours can have on a relationship. They have really strengthened theirs, which has been wonderful to watch.

Hopefully, someday, I will land upon the "perfect conversation starter" that will allow me to tell Alex, you are a wonderful, sweet, intelligent, caring person who will have a lifetime of adventure, laughter, tears and joy, and in the end... you will be the person you are because of all that you've learned, done and shared. I know that that person will be amazing.