25
Oct 13

The INFJ and the Narcissist – Part 2

The infj and the narcissist 2Those INFJ traits make for a tenacious individual when it comes to working on relationships.  She would never run out of the desire to try.  She’d contort herself into whatever shape he needed in order to make this work.

If he wanted an outdoorsy woman, she’d happily put on hiking boots.

If he wanted a woman who only had time for him, she’d quit returning the calls from friends and family.

If he wanted a companion who followed his dreams, she’d tuck her dreams away in a box on a shelf in the closet.

  Continue reading →


22
Oct 13

The INFJ and the Narcissist

the infj and the narcissistShe was attracted to him from the first moment they met.  He was older by a decade.  The look in his eyes made her think he’d experienced enough to have learned; and the spark made her want to believe that he wasn’t done learning.

He was drawn to her intense desire to listen, and because she was an INFJ, he couldn’t help but spill his guts.  He told her details of his failed marriage, the trials and tribulations of owning a business while raising kids, and stories of adventures in the mountains of the west.  She soaked it all up.  The more intently she listened, the more he talked.  He thrived in her attention.

The more she asked, the more he told.  The more she listened, the taller he grew and the broader his shoulders appeared.

 

After one intense exchange, she briefly worried that if he got to know her better, he might not be interested.  She noticed that he seldom asked questions of her life.  Would he still be drawn to her once he learned of her dreams and hopes and failures? Continue reading →


16
Oct 13

Do-Overs

 

orange and blue and do-oversHer head hit the pillow and all she could think was, “Can I get a Do-Over?”

 

At 2:30 that afternoon, she’d considered the possibility that it might be best to go to bed and put an end to this day.  She could pretend she had flu symptoms, make a cup of tea, put on her pajamas and bring this crappy day to a close.

But, of course, she didn’t.  She proceeded to touch more things that turned to shit.  She made bigger messes while trying to mop up other messes.

While running errands, she’d noticed the gorgeous fall leaves reflecting in the still blue river.  Blue and orange were complementary colors for a reason.  At least she couldn’t ruin that. Continue reading →


11
Oct 13

The Narcissistic Drive

narcissistic driveGuest Post by Zaira

When you turn down an unfamiliar road, it is uneasy. The curves and blind spots in the valleys are unsettling, but after a few whips and whirls, you start to feel the road. The car feels grounded and secure. You speed up a little and start to think this crazy road is manageable. Then you come over a hill that you hope will be the last and there is a stop sign. Screeching to a halt, you have lost all sense of security that existed. You want to turn and get off that road now, but the new direction is scarier than mistrusting the road you are on. Besides, that turn may leave you on a dirt road, in bad weather, and prolong the agony of the journey as either way is uncertain.

“I went down to the crossroad
fell down on my knees
Asked the lord above “Have mercy now
save poor Bob if you please”
Yeeooo, standin at the crossroad
tried to flag a ride
ooo ooo eee”

Cruising along thinking my road was not so bad, getting a little better, perhaps. Sure there were hills and valleys, but I have hit the stop sign. I swerved and hit the damn sign! I am caught off guard. My security is halted. My confidence cracked. Fear of the unknown has left me unable to back up, redirect, and make a choice on direction. I have my thumb out…

“I tried to flag a ride
Didn’t nobody seem to know me babe
everybody pass me by
Standin at the crossroad baby
risin sun goin down
Standin at the crossroad baby
eee eee eee, risin sun goin down
I believe to my soul now,
Poor Bob is sinkin down”

People are stopping. Checking out my ride. Shaking their heads. But no one can tell me what to do, which way to go. My heart is pounding…

“You can run, you can run
tell my friend Willie Brown
(th)’at I got the crossroad blues this mornin Lord
babe, I’m sinkin down”

That hill was steep! You need to slow down! You have time. Pay attention and stay calm. It will be ok. It’s a long road, but you will get there.

“And I went to the crossroad momma
I looked east and west
I went to the crossroad baby
I looked east and west
Lord, I didn’t have no sweet woman
ooh-well babe, in my distress”

Robert Johnson- CrossRoads


10
Oct 13

When the Narcissist Sees His Own Flaws in His Children

mirrored leaves“Underlying all of the constant campaigning needed to uphold this position is a profound vulnerability that lies at the very core of his psyche. Such is the narcissist who must mask his fears of inadequacy by ensuring that he is perceived to be a unique and brilliant stone. In his offspring he finds the grave limits he cannot admit in himself. And he will stop at nothing to make certain that his child continually tries to correct these flaws. In actuality, the child may be exceedingly intelligent, but has so fully developed feelings of ineptitude that he is incapable of believing in his own possibilities.”

 – Joshua Braff, The Unthinkable Thoughts of Jacob Green



07
Oct 13

The List of Lessons

list of lessonsShe drew a thick black line down the center of a sheet of unlined paper.  On the left she wrote the names of people she’s known.  Some no longer played an active role in her life, and some impact her life on a daily basis.  Some stand in the periphery.  Others are knocking at her front door, and some sleep in the rooms at the back of her house.

They all carry clipboards full of notes.

A lot of the names appear on her Christmas card list.  It might be the woman she’d had coffee with on a daily basis in college, but now she was hard-pressed to remember the woman’s adult children’s names.  It might be the guy she’d lived with in college who made it hard for her to look her grandfather in the eye because of the whole “living in sin” thing.

 

The left column listed names of individuals – all of whom left a print on her life. Continue reading →


02
Oct 13

Autumn Harvest

Autumn HarvestApple crisp with more crunchy topping than apples?

How about an apple pie with vanilla ice cream?

Maybe a pot of boiled, spiced apples – a chunky apple sauce – to serve with pork loin?

Or diced apples and cinnamon in oatmeal on a rainy fall morning?

I know!  What about an apple cobbler drowned in heavy cream?

Or I could leave the apples in the bowl for a homeschool drawing/painting class.

 

Will came home with a grocery bag full of apples from the neighbor’s tree – an autumn harvest as partial payment for his weekly lawn care job.

Now we have to (get to) decide what to do with them.

Maybe we’ll eat them, one-by-one, just as they are.

 

If only all of life’s issues were this difficult.

 

 


30
Sep 13

Goodbye Summer

That went fast.

Remember when grownups would always say that time goes faster as you get older?  Another summer has come and gone and I find myself wanting to acknowledge all the sweetness of summer before settling down to fall.

There were so many good parts:

flip-flop tans

iced-coffees on the back patio (Will learned to make ’em better than me) Continue reading →


27
Sep 13

A Thriver’s Perspective

“Geez, why can’t he drive himself to Driver’s Ed?”  Jenny reaches over to turn up the radio.

“Well, yeah.  That probably wouldn’t work.  Thing is, life is kinda full of inconveniences.  You can be annoyed by all of ’em, or you can decide to look at the little opportunities hiding in them.”

“What do you mean?”

We are sitting at a light that seems to be taking forever.  “We have to do this twice a day – take Will to class and then pick him up an hour and a half later.  We could choose to be cranky about it, but I like to think that it’s nice to have this car time.  You know…  we see how the rest of the world scurries from school to soccer to the grocery store and home.  It makes me appreciate our unconventional life.  Besides, we get to listen to music, sing, laugh and complain about never finding a good song on the radio when you want one.”

“Yeah, I guess I see what you mean.”

“Sorry about my singing.”

“You aren’t that bad, mom.”

“Maybe you should sing louder than me.”

 

At the next light I say, “You know, it’s kinda like the kitchen remodel.  We can be annoyed at how inconvenient it is to cook or make a bowl of cereal, or even put water on for coffee.  Or we can get excited about the process.  I love that time when Will is at Driver’s Ed and you and I are listening to Pandora and painting.  Those are gonna be great memories.  And I love Will coming home and seeing what we’ve gotten done while he’s been away.”

“I guess.  It’ll be nice when it’s done.  But I do love the painting.”

“And what other mom decides to make biscuits from scratch during a kitchen remodel?  I mean those moments make fun conversations.”

“Hey, I need the pastry blender.”

“Mom, I’ll get it.”

“Thanks, honey.  It’s in my bedroom.”

From the bedroom, “Mom!  What’s a pastry blender?”

Yelling back to the bedroom, “It’s the thing that looks kinda like a slinky with a wooden handle.”

“Got it!”

“See?  We’d be missing out on all that fun, if we hadn’t undergone all this torture.”

“I think I get it.  You have an interesting perspective, mom.”


24
Sep 13

The Kindness of a Narcissistic Dad

“I know…  you think waders would make fishing that much better, but we’ve both heard the stories of them filling with water.  I don’t want you to end up bobbing down the river with your head under water.  You need to do some research.  Let’s learn a bit more and figure out which waders to stay away from.  You can make that part of school today.”

 

“So mom, here’s a guy who says that he can walk in the river better when he takes in a little water.  He says it makes it easier to maneuver.”

“Nice.  And how many years has he been fishing?  Hey, did you get the other stuff on your list done before Googling fishing waders?”

“Mo…..om.  I’m done with the other stuff.  Here’s a guy who has a pair that has drainage holes and some draw strings around the neck and waist.” Continue reading →


20
Sep 13

“She’s a Tough Cookie”

“Your coffee’s always better than mine.”

“That’s cuz you had someone else make it for you.  Here…  have a little more.”  She fills both mugs and reaches for the half and half.

“Thanks, Ann.  Look, she’s up on the roof.  Is she cleaning her chimney?”

“Yep.  This morning she was up there cleaning her gutters and trimming tree branches.”

“Why doesn’t she hire that stuff done?” Continue reading →


16
Sep 13

Hope In A Jar

“Mom, what colors do you pick?”

“Um….   how about red, purple and turquoise.”

“Oh, that’ll be pretty.  I’ll see if I can layer the beads in this little jar.”  She makes a teensy funnel out of a scrap of paper.

 

“Okay!  The beads are in, and they stayed in separate layers! Look!  What do you want the label to say?”

“Well….  I’m not sure.  How about, “Faith, Hope, Love.”

“I like that.  I’ll have to write real tiny.”   She cuts a thin strip of paper, just long enough for three words.

 

“Oh, Jenny!  It’s beautiful!  Thank you.”

As she sorts beads for the next jar she asks,  “Where are you going to put it?”

“How about in a window where it can catch the sun?”


13
Sep 13

It Wasn’t Supposed To Be Like This

She dusted the potting soil off of the rim of the clay pot. “Mom, I potted the Hoya clipping. They’re supposed to be in a north-facing window. Where should I put it?”

“Well, we have two options.  Let’s see if we can make room for it.”

“Did you have more plants at dad’s house?”

“Yeah, we had lots of houseplants at dad’s house.”

“How come?” Continue reading →


09
Sep 13

How To Paint Like an Extrovert

“Whoa cowboy!  Slow down a bit.  You’re getting the green on the ceiling.”

“Oh, sorry about that.  This rolling is fun.  Look how much you can get on the roller before you put it on the wall.”  Will dunks the roller and I wince as he takes the roller from the tray to the wall.

“Yeah, it’s cool.  If you go too fast, tho’, it’ll splatter all over the kitchen.”  I stand at the ready with paper towels.

“K.  But maybe if I do it thick enough, it’ll only take one* coat.  Sorry about the ceiling.”

“That’s okay.  It’s fixable, but we don’t wanna have to repaint the whole ceiling.  Maybe you paint like an extrovert.”

“I know, right?”

 

Jenny walks over and asks for a little more paint.  She takes the stir stick, dips it in the sage green and lets it run onto the lid of the paint can.  “That should be enough.”  She heads back to the corner of the kitchen where she creates a mermaid with steady, deliberate watercolor paintbrush strokes.

“I’m not gonna want to paint over her, Jen.  She’s gorgeous.”

“That’s okay, mom.  I’ll paint her again in my bedroom.”

“Maybe you paint like an introvert.”

“I know, right?”

 

*One coat of the sage green was enough to cover.  :)


05
Sep 13

They Need to Talk

“Jon, dear, please remove your fingers from your ears.  How will you break your fall if you should crash that board you insist on riding?”

He streaks by with an annoyed look on his face.  He doesn’t hear Margaret. He’s trying not to hear anything. Tuning them out is not possible. That’s all they do. They talk and blather on and they never stop to listen. He makes another pass and stops in front of Gladys, “If I hadn’t lost my ear buds, I wouldn’t have to plug my ears. Have you seen my buds anywhere?”

Gladys exhales a long puff of cigarette smoke, looks at Jon and says, “What are buds?”

“Speakers. Ear buds are little speakers that fit in your ears. I plug ’em into my iPod and listen to music. You know, music? I lost my buds.”

“You mean that white cording draped over that marker back there? Are those the ear buds you speak of?” Continue reading →