Laurie: Independence is one of those tricky words. I strive for independence, and then as soon as I get it, let the whining begin. I know as kids we want to walk alone without the assistance of an adult, ride our bikes into unknown territories without the watchful eyes of our parents, get a driver’s license, earn our first paycheck, and a myriad of other things that prove we can do it by ourselves.   The first time I crossed the road in front of our small-town house by myself was maybe the proudest moment of my youth. Forget the fact that the street probably hosted a dozen or so cars a day and that my mother was trying to hide behind a tree as she observed and prayed and prepared to stop a speeding car if necessary. It was my declaration of independence.  Buying my first house, later a condo in Ocean City, and moving to the big bad city of New York were days that confirmed my power, but crossing that street - man, that was a natural high! And yet whenever I get the chance, I seem to hand the independence back. What up with that?

elizabeth: I think I declared my independence as I slid out of the birth canal. Maybe being holed up for nine months made me strive to run things my own way. Maybe my parents didn’t get the memo on that. I’m sure they didn’t, but I know they thought I had an agenda. In diapers holding directions to the farcical course my life would take. For my eyes only.  I ended up being coaxed thru the first few years with the fine art of reverse psychology. I hate to say it, but it worked like a charm. You want to cross the street? Go ahead. GO AHEAD! I think I will just play on the lawn. Thank you very much. To this day, if you tell me I have to do something, hmmm…is that hell freezing over? I did not think so. Ms. Independence is not sharing her toys with anyone.
 
Laurie: Was Janis Joplin right? Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose? I’ve got this love/hate thing going with independence. I have to prove that I am self-sufficient, and once I do, I have to attempt to find someone to take it away. “Why does everything have to be so hard?” “Hey, I could use a little help here!” “Ya know, I’m not the only person who can do this.” And the kvetching continues until someone answers. And when they do, these folks are not in for a massive tug-of-war. I will put my freedom in a pretty little box, wrap it up and hand deliver it to them. And then I’ll distract myself from the fact that I’m being taken care of, am putting someone else’s needs before my own, and sacrificing my goals to be a part of a couple/family/group. Ah, but eventually I do wake up. And when I do, I’m angry and my efforts are all focused on gaining my independence. Sound familiar? You can take it from here. It’s a spin cycle, and I guess I’ll keep whirling around until I catch on to myself. 
 
elizabeth: I think it is perfectly natural to want to have someone help with picking up the slack in our lives and for us not to feel that we are all alone in the world. Some times things in the news make it necessary for us to reach out and be a part of something bigger than ourselves. It can get scary out there.  I imagine we just got to be careful with what we are willing to give away for the sake of belonging. In the words of Groucho Marx: “I don't care to belong to any club that will have me as a member". I am with him. I remember when the dear old nuns (tongue was tucked firmly into my cheek) told us that just because we got married; it did not mean that we could do everything. “That is fine with me because I don’t want to take out the garbage” I shouted back at Sister Mary Jewish Guilt is Childs’ Play in Comparison to What Punishment Will be Selected for Your Penance O’Reily. I can give some things away and still be Ms. Independence. Thank you Sister for making it all possible.
 
Laurie: This year I will be fortunate enough to view the Fourth of July fireworks from my balcony. Except for a huge 46-story building, I have a fantastic view of the 400-year-old Hudson River. I’m going to sip a large glass of mint iced tea, celebrate the independence of my country, and bemoan the independent lifestyle that I have spent all year acquiring. Let freedom ring!
 
elizabeth: Welcome to the No Bemoaning Zone! I raise my glass of cheap merlot to you and say, “How do you know that the Hudson River is 400 years old?” Did you read that in an independent study on Rivers in New York? Okay, that remark deserves a slap.

© 2009 Coaches on the Edge ™