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Posts Tagged ‘Shela Dean’

Forgiveness: Is it Unconditional?

Sunday, January 3rd, 2010

Forgiveness. It’s a topic we hear a lot about when it comes to marriage and relationships. Lord knows there’s plenty to forgive and I, for one, am grateful for a partner who has a generous and forgiving heart. But I ask you, for all the talk and hoopla about the “virtue” of forgiveness, why isn’t there more said about the conditions under which one is forgiven? You, in return, might ask, “Isn’t forgiveness supposed to be unconditional?”  Well, according to idealistic gurus it is, and that would be just dandy if we were perfect human beings. We’re not.

The truth is that forgiveness is conditioned on better behavior in the future. It chaps my hide that so many people think saying, “I’m sorry” is a cure-all that entitles the transgressor to immediate and unconditional forgiveness. That may have worked in kindergarten when you grabbed another kid’s crayon and were forced to give it back with an equally forced apology, but it doesn’t work in grown-up life.

If your sweetheart lies to you once, gets busted, and you forgive, don’t you expect that in exchange for that forgiveness, your sweetie promises not to do it again? What will you do if it happens over and again? Most likely, you’ll stop forgiving, revoke all prior forgiveness, and take a hike. At the very least, your trust will be shattered.

Most failed relationships don’t end because of one major body blow; most suffer death by a thousand cuts, none of which are individually lethal but all of which cumulatively sap the life out of a once vibrant relationship. Since it’s inevitable that we will screw up, it’s a good thing that most cuts can be healed through forgiveness. But here’s a 411 for you: the wound may heal but what’s left is emotional scar tissue. It’s a fact: scar tissue is weaker and inferior to the healthy tissue it replaces. That’s true for physical wounds and equally true for emotional wounds. Every time you do something that requires your sweetheart’s forgiveness, you are weakening the relationship.

Like most things in life, the hurts and disappointments we suffer (and inflict) are relative, ranging from inadvertent to thoughtless to deliberate to downright mean. It’s easy to forgive when your sweetie inadvertently steps on yours toes, much harder to forgive when the person who’s supposed to love you deliberately stomps on your foot. Your partner may give you a get-out-of-jail-free card the first few times you screw up, but you keep doing the same thing and that inadvertent or thoughtless behavior eventually becomes deliberate. Example: If your sweetheart tells you that not calling when you promise to call is a no-no, somewhere about the tenth time you do it, your sweetheart will construe your behavior as deliberately inconsiderate and will stop forgiving you.

Little things count BIG time in every relationship. A forgotten promise to call, by itself, won’t destroy a relationship. The cumulative effect of many broken promises will. So pay attention to the little things, don’t rely on the good nature and generous heart of your sweetheart, and avoid doing those things for which you know you’ll need forgiveness. Then, when you do screw up, your sweetheart will be a lot more generous. And, your relationship will be a lot more intimate.

Your sweetheart’s forgiveness is a finite resource. Use it sparing.

Intimacy Rituals

Monday, December 28th, 2009

Have you ever noticed how a good marriage has the attributes of friendship?  Someone’s there to zip your dress, give an opinion about what tie goes with the jacket, fetch aspirin for your headache, and (and this is important!) laugh at your jokes, funny or goofy. Good stuff. But what sustains a marriage and what makes living together on a daily basis, with all the ups and downs, easy and comfortable is Emotional Intimacy. That’s why it’s important for every couple to have intimacy rituals that can be practiced daily.

No, I don’t mean candles, heated massage oil, and the hot tub. Those are great—for sexual intimacy. But let’s not confuse physical intimacy with emotional intimacy. In the falling-in-love fireworks stage of your relationship, intimacy equaled SEX! But once you settle into your nest, the stork pays a visit or two, there’s a lawn to be mowed, the cat has to go to the vet, kids need chauffeuring or help with homework, the car breaks down, the toilet backs up, one of you loses a job, gets sick, or has an argument with a friend. All of that makes you too tired to think, let alone jump each other’s bones.

When the now-less-frequent opportunity for sex presents itself, there are times when you really do have a headache, are beyond irritated by your mouthy teen-ager’s attitude, have an early flight to catch, or for whatever reason you’re just not in the mood. It’s a bummer, I agree, but you just cannot rely on sex to provide the intimacy you need to have a great relationship. Yes, a good sex life is important, but without emotional intimacy, your marriage is likely to wither and die no matter how great the sex may be.

Intimacy rituals don’t have to be complicated or take a big chunk of time and can even be part of a daily chore or event. Here’s what Hubby Dale and I do. At the beginning of the day, Dale sits in the bathroom and chats with me while I get dressed for the office. We don’t talk about anything special, we’re just together for a few minutes before we go our separate ways. We come back together over dinner. We don’t answer the phone and the TV is off. We talk about current events or Dale’s trip to the grocery store where he ran into a friend, we chuckle over something cute a grandchild said, we plan a dinner party, or revisit a favorite memory. An eavesdropper would find it mundane, but for us, it’s a reconnection after being apart all day.

For you, an intimacy ritual might be calling each other on your lunch hour and taking 15 minutes to catch up on your day, cooking dinner together, doing an evening crossword puzzle, playing dominoes, or turning off the TV, snuggling and chatting for 20 minutes before going to sleep.

Converting an everyday event into an intimacy ritual may require nothing more than a change in how you view that activity. Finding the time may be as easy as doing together what one usually does alone. Bathing the baby, pulling weeds, grocery shopping, preparing the evening meal, washing the cars, etc., are all opportunities for the kind of togetherness that fosters emotional intimacy. You just need the right state of mind.

Give it a try and see how much closer you will be.  Then, let me know how it works out.

Intimacy for Christmas: The Gift That Keeps On Giving

Wednesday, December 2nd, 2009

I dunno about you but gift giving between spouses has always seemed strange to me. I don’t quite get the point of buying a shirt or sweater (or even jewelry) for your lovebug when the $$ comes from a communal pot (which is kind of like contributing to the purchase price of your own gift, isn’t it?) Or, what’s the point of buying another shirt or sweater for the person who already has more shirts or sweaters than can ever be worn. So hubby Dale and I decided a long time ago that instead of buying each other gifts, we’d do something together, for us, as our gift to each other and to our relationship.

One year we bought bicycles and a bike rack for our 4-Runner. At the time we were living in Northern California where, within a short distance in any direction, there were a zillion fabulous places to cycle. The first place we headed was South Lake Tahoe where, courtesy of friends, we had a place to stay right on the lake. We were so excited that the minute we got there, we were pedaling up the lane. We tried holding hands while riding. I do not recommend this. I lost my balance, we both toppled over, and I ended up with a black eye. Yeah, that was not fun. But here’s the good part. We rousted out early the next morning, filled a thermos with hot coffee, and pedaled to where we could watch the sun come up. Holding hands this time was far more successful. An intimate moment, cuddled together to ward off the chill, sipping coffee and watching the sun rise. It’s one of those hey-remember-when moments that we enjoy reliving again and again.

Another year we splurged and went to Patagonia for three weeks. Wow! That was a great trip with the highlight being a stay at the Explora, located at the base of the Torres Del Paine. Check out the picture that I took from our room in the wee hours of the morning. It was on that trip that our car broke down in the middle of nowhere and Dale had the meltdown I wrote about in an earlier post. Yep, even a meltdown is an opportunity to create intimacy. We spent New Year’s Eve on a ferry that took us down the coast of Chile to Patagonia. We sat in our not-at-all-luxury cabin, popped the cork on a bottle of champagne we thought to buy at the last minute, toasted, kissed, took and sip and then both practically gagged. Champagne?  Uh-uh. More like fuel oil.  Nasty stuff that went down the drain.  But who needs champagne to celebrate the new year. We didn’t. After going out on deck where the crew shot off fireworks, we headed back to our cabin. How many people can say they’ve done the wild thing on a ferry, heading south along the Chilean coast to Patagonia on New Year’s Eve?  Great trip from which we have a whole bunch of hey-remember-when memories.

You don’t have to spend a lot. One year we bought a martini shaker and glasses. We spent most of January slightly tipsy as we worked our way from Appletini (which I recommend) to Wasabi Martini (which I do not recommend). We have used that shaker for many years and each time we pull it out of the cabinet, it inspires a hey-remember-when Christie and Gary came for dinner and we . . . , or when we celebrated the . . . , or we . . . story.

A shirt is long forgotten. But the memory of an intimate moment is the gift that keeps on giving. Try it. I think you’ll like it.

Marriage: Is It Really Hard Work?

Sunday, November 29th, 2009

“Marriage is hard work.”  I think that’s a bunch of bologna. If I had said to Dale, “Honey, being married is going to require hard work, and lots of it,” he would have cut and run as fast as he could and who would have blamed him? Certainly not me. When I envision a great marriage, I don’t see a labor camp. So, I got to wondering why do we so often hear, even from relationship gurus, that a good marriage requires hard work. I’m thinking maybe couples are working hard on the wrong things. For instance . . .

Being right. Just as you can’t have over without under, up without down, cold without hot, or light without dark, you can’t be right without someone else being wrong. While there are things that, based on empirical evidence, are objectively right, I’m sorry to say that your opinion is not one of them. We all have opinions about virtually everything…the prettiest color for the bathroom…the superiority of cats over dogs (or vice verse)…the best team in football…the perfect recipe for mac ‘n cheese…what music is worth listening to, and so on ad infinitum.

And while it may be difficult, if not downright impossible, to believe that anyone would love eggplant, prefer beige to taupe, and think a day at the water park is as good as it gets, your partner has opinions, too. Expressing your opinion is easy. Listening to your sweetheart’s opinion is easy if not mind-boggling. So far, no hard work. It’s when you elevate your opinion to universally right and then try to convince your sweetheart that he or she is wrong that the going gets tough.

Differences are just that. Your sweetheart is not your clone. Get over it. If you insist of making differences matters of right and wrong, you’re going to be exhausted from the hard (and futile) work of convincing your sweetheart how right you are and how wrong he or she is. Worse, you’re going to be an irritating bore. It’s not necessary to reconcile all your differences to peacefully coexist. Really, it’s okay if you’re a Democrat and your sweetie is a Republican.  Where differences do have to be reconciled—yep, you do have to agree on what color to paint the bathroom—it’s just a matter of negotiation. And, come on, differences make life more interesting, don’t they? No matter how wonderful you are, would you really want to live with your mirror image?

Arguing about whether beige or taupe is “right” is not only a waste of time and exhausting, it plays havoc with intimacy. So, here’s the choice:

• Argue about who’s right until you run out of steam, one of you finally gives in, and end up sleeping back-to-back with a wall of ice between you, or
• Nix the argument, let your sweetheart “win” this one, pick up Frequent Foreplay Miles, and enjoy between-the-sheets and emotional intimacy.

If you want more intimacy in your relationship (and who doesn’t?), stop working hard on the wrong things.

More on this topic in future posts.  So, stay tuned!

Sexiest Man Alive

Tuesday, November 24th, 2009

I think Johnny Depp, this year’s sexiest man alive, is hot. If you’re not convinced, rent What’s Eating Gilbert Grape, one of Johnny’s early movies (also starring a young Leonardo DiCaprio) and feast your eyes on some great Johnny close-ups. I also think Hugh Jackman, last year’s sexiest man alive, is hot. Two hotties. Both married. I don’t know Johnny’s wife and I don’t know Hugh’s wife but I’m pretty sure of one thing:  to those women, these guys are just the men they’re married to, expected to take out the trash, help with the kids, put the groceries away, throw their dirty socks in the hamper, put the toilet seat down, and, well, you get the picture. Just regular guys who People magazine happened to brand “sexiest man alive.”

As I was thumbing through the latest issue of People, feasting my eyes on one hot guy after another, I glanced at my guy who, looking a bit disheveled, chose that very moment to belch. He’s developed a bit of a paunch (just a little one) and his jowls are a bit more pronounced than they were a year ago. He’s no more likely to be People’s sexiest man alive than I am to be on the cover of next year’s Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition. But in my world, he is the sexiest man alive. Why? Well, I happen to think he’s a great looking guy, even with a slight paunch and jowls. More importantly, he’s gives great emotional foreplay.

Oprah asked Hugh Jackman if his status got him any leverage at home. He said, “Nope, I’m still expected to take out the trash.” Oprah’s reply: “That’s foreplay.”  She’s right. And my hubby Dale gets it. He takes out the trash. And, he’s kind, he’s generous, he’s supportive, he’s loving. He’s a great partner in every important sense of the word. Does that make him sexy? Yep. And I’ll betcha a buck that if we asked Johnny’s wife and Hugh’s wife, they’d both agree that what makes their guy sexy is not how he looks, but how he plays the role of husband and partner.

It’s fun to look at (maybe even fantasize about) eye candy. But when it comes to slipping between the sheets, I’ll take my sexiest man alive every time.

How ’bout you? Are you the sexiest man/woman alive in your sweetheart’s world?

Bestsellers!

Monday, November 2nd, 2009

I don’t wanna brag. Okay, I do. My new book Frequent Foreplay Miles, Your Ticket to Total Intimacy hit the Amazon bestseller list last month, topping out at #4 in the Self-Help, Marriage category. And I don’t wanna beg. Okay, I will. Buy your copy today. Please!

Speaking of bestselling authors. My good friend Libby Gill recently published her third book You Unstuck: Mastering the New Rules of Risk-taking at Work and in Life. And guess whose story leads chapter 8? That’s right. Mine. Read an excerpt and then, while you’re visiting Amazon to buy my book, why not pick up Libby’s book, too. Thanks and thanks again.

Remarriage: The Blend Setting on the Cuisinart of Life

Sunday, November 1st, 2009

It’s been 10+ years since I did the remarriage thing. And I’ll admit it, I’m one of the lucky ones. Hubby Dale lived on a boat. He had nothing (I’m not kidding, nothing) to move into my house that I had decorated precisely to my taste. No recliner. No Elvis-on-Velvet art. Nada. All he asked was 3 feet of closet space. With some pushing and condensing I managed to squeeze out just about that much. And, he has no kids. Blending our lives was pretty simple. But for many couples, remarriage is all about blending. The kids. The finances. The pets. The former in-laws. All of that’s a breeze, however, compared to blending your stuff.

You’ve both got a house full of furniture, art, knickknacks, and–‘fess up–a ton of crap that by any standard belongs in a garage sale at best, more likely in the trash. But it’s your crap, thank you very much, and you’re attached to it: the molded-to-his-backside recliner with cup holder and duct-tape-repaired rip…the tattered-but-beloved bed canopy your great-grandmother crocheted in the previous century…the paint-by-number landscape your grown-up son did as a ten-year old…the ceramic frog collection you started as a kid that now occupies an entire bookcase. It’s no small task to find a place for all that stuff let alone tastefully mix early American milk glass with contemporary chrome ‘n glass.

Remarriage. Yep, it’s a challenge. It’s enough to make one seriously contemplate Katharine Hepburn’s approach. She said, “I often wonder whether men and women really suit each other. Perhaps they should live next door and just visit now and then.” I dunno, Katharine. Sharing the nest with your sweetheart is pretty darned nice. So, think of all that stuff-blending as an opportunity to score points (or what my hubby and I call Frequent Foreplay Miles). If you do, you’ll find yourselves each giving in a little and before you know it, you’ll have your cozy nest just the way it should be, recliner, ceramic frogs and all.

Intimacy: When Less is More

Friday, October 23rd, 2009

Hubby Dale and a guy friend sat on their boat knocking down a few beers and whiled away a lazy afternoon by listing body “ations”—urination, expectoration, perspiration, etc. I tried, but failed, to imagine doing the same with a girlfriend. We would identify the three most important “ations”—exfoliation, ovulation and menstruation, three these two geniuses missed—and then go shoe shopping.

Like it or not, “ations” are part of life. When you’re cheek by jowl it’s impossible to pretend, as you do in those early getting-to-know-each-other days, that you’re the only person on the planet who doesn’t experience them. At some point, one or the other of you will fart, belch, or leave the bathroom in need of fumigation. One bit of relaxed behavior leads to another and before you know it, you’re sharing—perhaps over-sharing—all those “ations.”

It’s not fair to stereotype but it seems to me that most guys never quite get over their middle-school fascination with body functions, especially flatulation and eructation (belching). There’s even a certain pride that some men take in “ations” as if the louder the belch or the more pungent the flatulence, the more manly they are. I. Do. Not. Get. It.

Okay, I admit it. I sometimes see the humor. Dale and I were at a Wednesday afternoon matinee, the favorite showing for folks from the retirement community. During a quiet moment Dale coughed so hard he ripped one. A really loud one. The elderly woman in front of Dale reached up and patted her head as if she feared the blast had dislodged her wig. We could not stop laughing and had to leave.

Then there’s grooming. In a perfect world, we’d all wake up as they do in the soaps—perfect hair, perfect make-up, no morning breath. You wouldn’t need to floss or brush your teeth, clip your toenails, exfoliate, mud pack, shave, or file your calluses. It’s soooooooooo not a perfect world.

I think most body functions and grooming should be done behind closed doors. Dale is more relaxed. I’m convinced he’d never seek privacy but for the fact that he reads on the john and doesn’t want to be disturbed. Oddly, the one thing that grosses him out is watching me put my contacts on. You may consider that as weird as I do, but it does demonstrate an important point. When it comes to body functions and grooming, it’s a good idea to know when you’re crossing your sweetie’s “that’s disgusting” line. We all have our quirks. Kathy is grossed out by teeth flossing, Elijah by ear wax on Q-Tips. I need complete privacy to groom my feet. Nail clippings make Rebecca want to hurl. Respect your sweetheart’s quirks and avoid the gross out.

It may be impossible to maintain the same level of propriety you would around a total stranger, but remember this: In an intimate relationship, there are times when less is more.

Sean Penn Follows Jon Gosselin’s Lead

Friday, October 23rd, 2009

Is it just me? Or am I justifiably appalled by both Sean Penn and Jon Gosselin. I mean, come on, these guys loved Robin and Kate enough to marry them and have children with them. But within no time of having split the blanket,  they’re each squiring a replacement. I’ve been divorced. I get it. You move on. But if you have any decency, you  show respect for your ex and especially for your children. You let the sheets cool. I don’t even want to start on Jon Gosselin. Okay, too late, I’m started. What are his children to think when they learn (if they haven’t already) that daddy is saying  horrible things about mommy to the whole world. I detest her!?!!!! Jon, I take you at your word. You detest Kate. My question is this: Do you hate Kate more than you love your children? If so, keep it up, buddy. But if you love your kids as you should, zip it up. Grow up. You were man enough to father eight children, now be man enough to be a good father even in, no especially in, the face of a public divorce.

During the 20 years I practiced law, I refused to do domestic work. This is exactly why. I cannot (and don’t want to be) indifferent to parents who making hurting the ex more important than the welfare of their children. I practice what I preach. When my daughter’s father and I split, I made certain that he and she had a relationship. She was only two. It would have been easy to push him out of the picture. But because I love my daughter, I made sure she knew her father. Six years ago, he and I walked her down the aisle. I did the right thing. Marriage may end, parenting doesn’t.

So, Sean and Jon, regardless of what you may feel for your soon-to-be-exes, think of your kids. Now, more than ever, they need you to be stand-up guys.

Celebrating with Champagne!

Wednesday, September 16th, 2009

For the last few days I’ve had this respiratory crud that last night erupted into one of those nasty coughs. So, today I stayed in bed. It was 9:30 a.m. and I was sound asleep when I heard glasses rattling. I awoke to find Dale heading for the bed with a tray of champagne and two glasses.  Also sitting on the tray was the very first printed edition of my book Frequent Foreplay Miles, Your Ticket to Total Intimacy. Was I dreaming? Was the cold medication making me hallucinate? Or, was it possible that, after all the work, it had finally become reality? “Is it here?” I asked. “It is,” he said, “and I am so proud of you!” What a guy, huh? Suddenly, my cold didn’t seem so bad and I was floating on cloud nine. I’ve never happier for a UPS delivery. Woo hoo!!!!!!!!!!

So, stayed tuned. Soon, you’ll be able to hold your edition, too.

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