Jim-isms

 There are many things about the relationship with my dad that I haven’t written about. Honestly, some of it is just too tough to really dig back into. However, the memories I have of my life as Jim Russell’s daughter are many and are richly mixed with emotion. The further away I get from my youth, the closer I get to appreciating more than loathing the dynamic we shared. It is no secret to those who know me and knew my dad, that I am very much his daughter. Scarily so. 

As I’ve come to terms with some down right awful traumas from his and my relationship, I sometimes get pissed off how much that trauma has built so much of my character that I have come to respect. As I’ve dissected hours of dialogue, I have extracted some key phrases or anecdotes that I feel bear the value to share with you. 

The first statement is one I’ve written about before. There must needs be opposition in all things. Now, to be fair, this isn’t a statement he can claim as original. It comes from gospel doctrine in the Mormon faith. But, what was original is the organic discussion as to the relevance it plays in damn near every breathing moment in this existence. Without hate there cannot be love. I could truly spend a lot of time talking about this truth. Instead, for the sake of carpel tunnel and arthritis, I’ll leave you to ponder on the philosophy and apply it how you see fit. 

Second, he gets to in part, thank me for the practice of yoga and the necessity of breathing. I turned to yoga after the birth of my daughter. I had gained an impressive 75 pounds over the course of that pregnancy and felt like a walrus. To get myself back into a shape less rotund, yoga was instrumental. My dad was impressed at the results and asked me what I was doing. In four short months, I had lost 40 pounds and nearly looked like I did before I was pregnant. He began to study and practice. 

Frequently I have battled with the art of breathing. It’s such an absent minded exercise since we have to do it. But, when I focus and introspect, I find clarity unlike anything else I’ve used. He and I took turns reminding each other of the necessary intention of breathing occasionally. He took it way further than I ever have. A few times he turned down right poetic in coaching me through some real shit. 

One time, he sent me an excerpt from a book he was reading about how to calm the mind and exit the stress. Regardless of how intense the nightmare was I was coping through, he found a way to remind me to breathe from my core. When I thanked him, he simply replied with being a fellow breather. 

Third and probably one of my irritating favorites is: you can’t control another person’s agency. That one sticks a pin through me every time I consider the magnitude of its meaning. It’s a layer of a familiar application of coping. We’ve all heard the Serenity Prayer. …”Grant me the strength to accept the things I cannot change…” It’s frustrating, because it’s so immensely true. This particular approach to nearly every problem set I have, saves me from hours of anxiety and contemplation. 

I read a lot and listen to a lot of self awareness coaching and public speakers. Today, I came across a brief yet profound interaction between a coach and an interviewer. “In 30 seconds give me something a person can do to live a more purposeful life.”  The response, “Write down every item of a situation you’re facing that presents personal challenge. Then start crossing out the things you cannot change. Focus on what you can!”  Boom. Something I’ve literally been doing for years now. But, here’s this guy who says this and undoubtedly struck a massive nerve with several people instantly. 

We have more control than we give ourselves credit. One immediate elimination we can recognize is the validity that we can’t truly control another person’s choices. We can control only our own actions. 

It used to make me crazy when my dad would tell me that he couldn’t make me feel anything. He finally conceded (yes, I wrote that moment down because it was RARE) that he could impact my emotions. The deeply rooted narcissist that he was didn’t really permit him often to recognize the cause and effect of his behaviors. Sadly, it was towards the end of his life that he seemed to get a good idea of the influence his behavior had on his child. It was a good day for us and a good ism that I carry with me daily. I can’t control anyone’s agency. But, I can execute my own. I just strive to do it wisely. 

Lastly, he never met me with a conversation about choices I had before me without asking me, “Have you prayed about it?”  As I’ve grown away from organized religion, the idea of praying has an outlining sense of comedy. However, the practice of meditation, introspection, and breathing is quite similar to the act of praying. I contemplate and ponder on choices regularly. While I may not address the moment aloud in a formal exhibit, I tend to find the same results. Consequences of choices become more clear and I’m able to more strategically approach a problem with a more optimal outcome. 

The last year of his life, we discussed so many intimate things like adults friends. Personal regrets he had were shared for probably the first time in his life. The ironic hilarity of these moments is that I turned his own words on him regularly. I questioned him. I made him explain himself. Because he dropped so much of his guard, I was able to take his words more serious than just assuming it was rhetoric. Discovering how alike we are has taught me how to learn from him in a way that I never had.