Compromise

Give and take.  What day passes in life lived in social contact that we do not need to compromise.  Naturally, we want what WE want and others want, just as deeply, what THEY want.  I’m wondering how it all works out sometimes.  The necessity of compromise abounds. 

The Collins English Dictionary Complete & Unabridged 10^th Edition 2009 at dictionary.com defines the noun compromise.

1.  settlement of a dispute by concessions on both or all sides

2.  the terms of such a settlement

3.  something midway between two or more different things

4.  an exposure of one’s good name, reputation, etc. to injury 

Also at dictionary.com, the 2010 Douglas Harper Online Etymology Dictionary added some background.  Compromise is from Middle French for “a joint promise to abide by an arbiter’s decision.”  The presence of an intermediary, an uninvolved third party perhaps, seems handy.   

This is the role (although one can hardly call me uninvolved) I often find myself in as a parent.  Three kids with unique personalities, goals, wants and needs come together on a daily basis attempting to play, work, eat, etc.  Often they cannot seem to share the same air without a fight or someone seeing the stick in their hand as the short end.  Teaching compromise is a daily duty that often melds into drudgery.  When do they learn to value compromise?  Is it a maturity issue?  Then I throw in moments of teaching when not to give in on your position.  Certainly there are times when no concessions can be made but often that means the goal may be lost.  Passions run high on emotional issues.  At some point I’m usually exhausted!   

Isn’t an arbiter what we try to make our conscious thoughts become when orchestrating settlement of a dispute by concessions on both or all sides?  It seems what we are called to do in the lack of a physical third party is allow that voice to come from ourselves so that we can find terms of settlement.  Concessions are the sticking point.  Where is the midway between two or more different things?  Can we find settlement among raging emotions?  Can we hear, consider, and find value in a position other than our own?   

In compromise everybody typically wants a similar outcome, the path is the dilemma.  Kids want to watch a television show or play a game or make a craft.  Couples want affection, financial stability, shared meals.  Families want to celebrate holidays and feel connected.  Business owners and employees want their companies to succeed and make profit.  Citizens want their county to flourish and prosper.    

Understanding our need for each other in the successful outcome sometimes gets lost.  There is no game if our potential opponent leaves.  There is no happy marriage if one spouse continually dominates.  Employees and business owners necessitate each other.  A country sometimes requires sacrifice from all sides to continue to thrive.  Compromise can feel trite in a five hundred word blog but the reality is complicated and essential.

Family

Kin folk are on my mind.  I just finished a beach trip with a thirty-five person pack of relatives happily sunning, swimming, crab-hunting, porch-sitting and eating together.  I returned home to the celebrations and challenges I find some families immersed in on Father’s Day. 

The first five entries for the noun family are listed as follows on dictionary.com.

1.  a basic social unit consisting of parents and their children, considered as a group, whether dwelling together or not
2.  a social unit consisting of one or more adults together with the children they care for
3.  the children of one person or once couple collectively
4.  the spouse and children of one person
5.  all those persons considered as descendants of a common progenitor 

I ponder the phenomenon of family roles that don’t seem to change over the years.  In the south one’s parents are often held up as unquestioned authorities with “yes, sir” and “yes, ma’am” requisite childhood responses to their instructions that may continue as adult children attend family reunions or trips.  The negotiation of holiday celebrations mandating that everyone eat huge amounts of food with everyone even if that means driving from house to house like nomads feigning hunger so that no one is offended by meager consumption of mince meat pie or broccoli casserole.  What about the little brother who feels no respect from older siblings and continues to live in their assumed superiority?  Or the eldest daughter who is called upon to orchestrate and clean up?  Or the homosexual brother or sister who must pretend to be straight in order to be accepted?  Or a passive parent who doesn’t want to risk alienation from spoiled children by demanding some respect of their time and resources?  Can we be honest about ourselves in the context of family?  Are the roles chosen for us or do we choose them ourselves?  Sometimes family that is no genetic connection is best if the “descendants of a common progenitor” are destructive.   

First in my family I was a daughter.  Then I became a sister, a wife, a daughter-in-law, a mother, an aunt.  With all these roles I wonder how I fit into family for the people who came into my life and created these functions for me.  We get no choice about the unit we are born to.  Rich, poor, rural, red-headed, religious, adopted, prone to anger, submissive as doormats, divorced or alcoholic or abusive, artistic, business-savvy, tall, plump – the options seem endless.  The emotions involved are deep, real, intense, and unyielding.  We love despite conflict.  We yearn despite disappointment.  We behave badly every now and then.  We offer ourselves unconditionally.  We share special songs and unique traditions, births and funerals.  We forgive and mend and patch because the people of our genetic heritage are who they are and we are who we are and when you put us all together around a turkey or a birthday cake we each find something to be thankful for.

Vacation

Summer seems in full swing for my family now.  The first two weeks after school ended were transitional and therefore somewhat unpleasant as we figured what our non-school life was going to feel like.  No morning alarm to wake us.  Debates about what chores must remain even though summer signifies a time of relaxation for the kids.  The first hot, humid days reminding us how grateful we are for air conditioning.  Ripe, red, fresh watermelon from the farmer’s market.  Daylight until almost 9:00pm.  Swim team each morning.  Popsicles on the porch.  A final hallmark for us to know summer has really arrived is a trip to the beach.  Vacation.  

 

Dictionary.com offers the following definitions for the noun vacation.
1.  A period of suspension of work, study or other activity usually used for rest, recreation or travel. 
2. A part of the year regularly set aside when normal activities of law courts, legislatures, etc. are suspended. 
3.  Freedom or release from duty, business, or activity.

If the actually living of vacation is not enough, the words strung together to define it make me love it even more!  Suspension of work!   Freedom or release!  Rest, recreation or travel!  Wahoo!  But, do I experience it that way?  Can I let myself loosen my type A sensibilities for several days and release from duty?  I fully intend to try.  

This year is a new vacation frontier for me.  It will be the first beach trip in a decade that I do not have a baby or toddler or preschooler to care for.  My youngest progeny will be five years old in a matter of days and handles most of life’s day to day self-care duties on her own.  Dressing, getting ready for bed, making a little snack, generally self-entertaining . . . all are skills she possesses.  Phenomenal.  Certainly I am still called upon for bedtime books and beach side supervision, sand castle making and sunscreen application.  But I anticipate being also able to read a novel on the porch undisturbed, write alone in a quiet kitchen, go through a day not worried about nap time, potty time, and potential over-stimulation time.  I’m relearning about my time.  What better event to re-teach me the possibility of these moments than vacation?

The anticipation of a period of suspension from regular work for rest is a gift.  We can all use recreation time even if the beach is too far or not everyone’s cup of tea.  Offering ourselves release from duty for a time each summer for a trip, a picnic or a nap can be one of the best offerings of this time of year. 

Thrill

I spent Sunday with fabulous people celebrating my daughter’s eleventh birthday at an amusement park which calls itself “Thrill Capital of the Southeast.”  The occasion offered something I have always loved, roller coasters.

Collins English Dictionary - Complete 10th Edition cited at dictionary.com defined the noun thrill.

1.  a sudden sensation of excitement and pleasure
2.  a situation producing such a sensation
3.  a trembling sensation caused by fear or emotional shock

I had not ridden a rollercoaster in years.  I was not sure my forty-plus body would willingly comply with instructions from my brain to board.  My forty-plus brain was concerned with how I would feel physically if I did!  But, I really wanted to try. 

I started small with my youngest two children on three roller coasters requiring less height.  Based on feeling good after those I braved some larger ones with willing compatriots as we traded off the young children for a place in the line of two rides labeled “Aggressive Thrill.”

The sudden sensation of fear sets in just after they buckle me into my seat.  At this moment I change my mind and wish not to go on the ride.  Knowing it is too late for that I choose to grasp whatever is intended to restrain me in my seat, large shoulder harness being the most consoling.  Screaming is a requisite as I ascend the obligatory first climb and drop over the hill.  I screamed my way through the entirety of two amazing roller coasters yesterday.  The sudden sensation of excitement and pleasure set in after the bottoming out of the first hill as I raced forward through loops, drops and turns.  When the train car pulled into the unloading area I was overcome with the thrill of the ride.  Awesome. 

Because I was celebrating the birth of my daughter I thought about how riding a roller coaster was a good way to recall the day she was born.  I remember dutifully waiting as if in a queue as my due date arrived.  I remember the sudden sensation of excitement several days past my expected due date when I knew my contractions were coming regularly and not stopping, signaling the time to go to the hospital.  I remember walking happily around the hospital halls chatting as early labor progressed just as I was doing while waiting for a roller coaster ride.  The sudden sensation of fear set in just after I climbed up on the birthing table as contractions became too strong for me to continue standing.  Knowing it was too late to change my mind, although this is the moment I was sure I could not do what I had started, I held onto my knees for dear life.  We climbed the giant hill I had committed myself to and screamed my way over the crest and descent, tense muscles and pushing to birth my child.  As they placed her in my arms when the ride was over I was overcome with the thrill.  Awesome.