The original title of this post was "Back the Bus Up!" - a title that reflected my frustration when I first began it. But I decided to "practice patience," and step away from it for a few days, so that I could - to quote the Dalai Lama - respond "in an appropriate and compassionate manner rather than being driven by [my] anger and irritation." Taking the time to back off and think has changed the focus of the post. I left the front part - the build-up - so that you can understand the framework behind the post. I admit wholly that this post could benefit from probably a little more practice at patience, but it'll have to do for now. I am, after all, only human.
Now, I'm gonna rant a little in here. Just warning you upfront. And I welcome any ranting back. Go ahead, get it out. But, I ask just one thing, first. Read through the whole entry before releasing your rant on me. Thank you.
I've been observing a trend lately - that I know is not new, but I've just been paying attention to it. This is the tendency to shoot first, think later, if at all.
We are not generous with each other, nor do we, apparently, naturally expect generosity from each other. So when we hear something, we often quickly react - whether in action or word or merely in thought - and often don't step back and really think about what might have happened. Then this spirals. Quickly.
You read meanness into your co-worker's e-mail, so you send something short and sharp back. The co-worker that thought she was being nice is now upset because you're upset at her, and suddenly something innocent - and perhaps even generous - has become something else due to a misunderstanding and a miscommunication.
I have problems with lawn mowers. As long as they do not belong to me, I can start them and use them just fine. Once they come under my ownership, I, no longer, have the power or ability to make them go. I have no idea why, but this is a pattern I have observed, so - in the spirit of this post - I choose to take it personally.
I received a note the other day from a neighbor who had clearly observed I was having problems getting my lawn mowed. He (or she?) offered to mow my lawn for me if I wanted, and left his number and suggested a $10 payment. I walked in and found it on my door, and felt a little sheepish because I know my lawn is getting long, and took his note as nothing but kind-hearted generousness. Yes, he suggested a fee, but I took it as kindness.
Later, after getting settled in, I was sharing my day with a friend, and I mentioned this note. She was immediately offended on my behalf and basically suggested I tell him to shove his lawn-mower where the sun don't shine (which doesn't make sense, because if the sun didn't shine, then the grass wouldn't grow, and then you wouldn't need a lawnmower??? But I digress).
I was a little surprised at her reaction, and I reassured her that, no, I thought he was just being kind. I went back and re-read the note, though, and saw that, yes, one could - I guess - take offense to it.
And this is the problem that I am observing. Faced with a choice of whether or not to take offense, so often so many of us seem to be choosing the take offense option rather than step back and try to figure out what might be going on.
Even the best intentioned person says stupid things. Some of them are genuinely stupid, and that person should be taken out back and at least gently explained why what they said was inappropriate.
But if someone doesn't tell us, then how do we learn? Oh, yes. We learn by seeing outrageous reactions to what was meant to be harmless comments. An e-mail among co-workers, a note among neighbors, a twit (er, tweet, whatever you call it) among strangers, or a warm open invitation among friends.
We all have land mines. Things that even if Mother Teresa said them to us (well, maybe I should choose someone living, like my favorite, the Dalai Lama) we'd hear in the most negative light.
I love the Dalai Lama. I've been looking back at some of his recent works to try and find the right quote for this post.
This sorta fits:
If we can manage to refrain from harming others in our everyday actions and words, we can start to give more serious attention to actively doing good, and this can be a source of great joy and inner confidence. We can benefit others through our actions by being warm and generous toward them, by being charitable, and by helping those in need.
Refraining from harming others. Good idea. Benefiting them by being warm and generous towards them. Also good.
This other one is something I've had posted lately for myself to remember by reading and re-reading
The practice of patience protects us from losing our composure. In doing that it enables us to exercise discernment, even in the heat of difficult situations. It gives us inner space. And within that space we gain a degree of self-control, which allows us to respond to situations in an appropriate and compassionate manner rather than being driven by our anger and irritation.
And I do think it fits this post well - that if we manage to practice patience and protect ourselves from losing our composure, then we can think more appropriately about the situation and how to react.
In the last twenty four hours, two separate and unrelated "events" occurred with me that has brought this issue to a head for me, and inspired this post.
The first was inadvertently tripping over a trigger for a Twitter fan. The second was recognizing that I, now, have a new trigger of my own.
I was having friendly banter with someone new yesterday afternoon via Twitter. Saw a post she made about a place I used to live, and at lunch, I posted a comment in return. Read a few more of her twits, tweets, wha-t-ever - I'm not going to become a Twitter person at this rate!!! - and enjoyed some things she had to said, and made a few more comments in reply. She replied back to me and we started an enjoyable little banter online. Or so I thought.
At one point she asked a personal identifying question of me. The question was perfectly reasonable, and certainly understandable in the context of the banter thus far. Well.. this raised an issue I've been trying to figure out how to deal with, and wrote about in my post Clark Kent - what to tell who and where? So I gave a general answer rather than a specific one, and apparently tripped over a trigger with her. What happened next may be familiar to those of you who twit on a regular basis, but let's just sum it up by saying it spiraled out of control quickly with her getting more and more upset by my responses, and me being more and more confused, dumbfounded and hurt by hers.
What became clear from her responses is that she is someone who has been hurt a lot by others, and therefore doesn't trust anyone. I'm a stranger - I don't expect a very high level of trust. But I would also not expect - and did not expect - a high level of DIS-trust. Essentially, her argument boiled down to was that "all women lie, therefore, you must be lying." I was a bit bewildered by that because, frankly, I couldn't figure out what she thought I had to gain by lying to her about very basic things. Nor what she thought I wanted from her. These are questions I still have no answers to.
The only thing that was clear was that in the moment, I had irritated and angered her. She was unable to step back and think through the situation to think about it calmly. Let alone compassionately.
And within that space we gain a degree of self-control, which allows us to respond to situations in an appropriate and compassionate manner rather than being driven by our anger and irritation.
Instead, she immediately assumed the worst about me - a virtual stranger - that I was a lying, playing mind games and thinking it was cute.
In the meantime, I was off on my way to spend some time with a friend. She has a weekend get-away spot that she goes to most every weekend, and has told me repeatedly, that I'm welcome anytime. So, taking her up on that, I joined her this past weekend. Driving home, I felt as frustrated with that situation as I had driving up about the Twitter exchange. I took some time to analyze my feelings, and realized that while it is "sweet" to think that I am welcome anytime - an open invitation I receive from many people - I came to recognize in that moment that I never wanted that kind of "invitation" again.
I knew I was reacting strongly rather than responding in an appropriate and compassionate manner, and instead I was being driven by my anger and irritation. And I know, nonetheless, that the next time someone utters those words, "You're welcome anytime" that they're likely to get a reaction that doesn't belong to them. Much as I had received from my friendly twit not 24 hours earlier. The details and analysis of THAT situation I will save for another post.
But when I began this post, I was very much aware of the similarities. Perhaps it provided me a small measure of compassion for my friendly twit. It made me realize, though, the need to encourage people to take a moment and back the bus up (the original title) and think about a situation before immediately reacting to it. Did that co-worker mean what I thought she meant in that e-mail, or is there another explanation? What happens when I look at the situation from a more compassionate perspective than an immediately offended perspective? How can I avoid the spiral?
And I think the Dalai Lama got it right. When I first read that passage, I wondered "How does one practice patience?" I thought about those hotel.com commercials where the one co-worker / friend is trying to teach the other how to wait and not feel the need to book immediately to get the best deal. Watching the turtles race. Going to the DMV. And I didn't think that was the way, but I didn't know how - in real life - one "practices" patience.
Change begins with me. It is easy to get lost and caught in that space of impatience, frustration and irritation, and then pay it forward. But I know that whenever I do that, all that I do is increase the level of impatience, frustration and irritation in the world. That if I respond with generosity, if I respond with compassion, maybe, just maybe, that generosity might encourage generosity in others.
Next time someone pushes your buttons, or acts in a manner that you find offensive, step back - back the bus up! - and try to respond in a compassionate manner. Try and stop the spiral. Try to pay the generosity forward.
If you respond, "but yeah, all women are liars, why should I trust them?" or some similar knee-jerk reaction to behavior stop and ask what you have to lose by responding with kindness and generosity rather than irritation. (Ask, so what if I *am* a liar? How does that really hurt you? I am a stranger who lives several thousand miles away who you only interacted with for the first time in the past few hours.) Try and practice patience.
As the Dalai Lama said: We can benefit others through our actions by being warm and generous toward them, by being charitable, and by helping those in need.
Let me know how it goes, and feel free to write me about your experiences. Or rant. Whichever. The first will bring a smile to my face and the second will give me more opportunities to practice. ;)
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Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Friday, May 18, 2012
Letting Go
This is the post that I almost started with Sixth Sense. But I could hear my editor friend in my head telling me that these are really two different ideas, even though to me they intertwine.
To explain to you my current issue of letting go, I needed you to understand my sixth sense, and that I tend to trust it. Now you do. Or if you don't, go read it and then come back to this.
I wrote the following paragraph in the last entry:
I wrote a friend recently that it's a fine line between faith and foolishness, in particular reference to holding onto the hope of a relationship. When our faith is "rewarded" we look good. When it's not, it is quick to be dismissed as foolishness. I don't like that the wisdom in these choices can only be decided in hindsight and based upon results, but even as I type that, I recognize there are a lot of situations where our wisdom can only be seen when what we anticipate comes to fruition.
I am a big fan of romance. I love Nicholas Sparks. The Notebook is both my favorite book and my favorite movie. I recently watched The Vow and The Lucky One, and another favorite movie of mine is The Time Traveler's Wife. I love the idea that "true love" wins in the end. Against all odds. Against separation. I am a sap.
I don't think I believe in "The One" although I do have moments while in love, that I believe in soul mates. I think there are a series of "ones". I am too cynical to think that in a world of 7 billion, there is only ONE and that many of us are fortunate enough to find it. Although I did find comforting Plato's description of us initially as hermaphrodites, separated and then always looking for our other half. Again, I am a hopeless romantic.
Hopeless.
It gets me in trouble.
When I was with my wife, particularly towards the end with her volatility I had at some level come to peace with the possibility that we would separate at some point. That one day she would push me away and she would run away. But like all good romances, I had determined that I would stay true to her and wait for her to get herself together and come back to me. That I made a vow to her and I had every intention of keeping it. I would continue to wear my ring and wait.
There's a country song that talks about leaving every light in the house on to let one's love know that they were waiting for them. There's another country song about someone leaving and moving to Austin a year before and this guy leaving a message for her at on his answering machine message which he changed frequently, but always ended: "If this is Austin, I still love you".
There is something "noble" in waiting.
In the end, my wife crossed a line I couldn't have even imagined. I didn't know I had such lines, but when she did it, my reaction was immediate, and I pulled off the rings I swore I would always wear. Not in anger, not in outrage, not in the middle of an argument - as she had done several times - but in acceptance. It was over. And I could never trust her and be with her again after what she had done.
(A friend just texted me completely apropos and completely unrelated, but amusing, nonetheless in this context, as if she were reading over my shoulder: "She's an evil bitch". I'm not sure I would go that far, but again, in context, I thought it was amusing...).
That decision haunted me. In fact, it still haunts me. But I trust it. (That sixth sense trust your gut thing) I do not expect that one day she will come riding in on her white horse and that she will have done the very hard work that she needs to do to be healthy and that she'll want me back. I do not want that. I want her to be healthy, and it would be nice to know that she was well, but I have let go and I know better than to go back.
You would think that experience might teach me something about this ideal of waiting. But it doesn't.
I was very fortunate that an old friend came riding in on her white horse to help me pick up the pieces of my life. As was completely natural, I fell in love with her, even though she wasn't available. It was impossible not to. But, at the moment, she remains unavailable. (Love those qualifiers).
We became close in that period of time and we shared practically everything. She told me multiple times - almost with surprise - that I was the best friend she'd ever had, and that she had never been closer to anyone else. She told me that she could imagine sharing her life with me. But circumstances changed, and she is gone.
My feelings for her are unchanged. And despite new interests and distractions, there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about her and miss her. A lot of really hard things would have to happen in her life for us to be together. And I don't want her to experience that pain. So I have not pushed. I am not pushing. But I am waiting.
I don't believe I should have my life on hold, and I don't believe that I shouldn't be with others, necessarily, while I wait. And perhaps in that process - moving forward in my life - I might find that I do move on. I accept that possibility, and at moments, I hope that it will happen. But I feel this strong feeling in my gut, deep down in my bones, that in the end, we'll be together - or at the very least, we still have more in our future together, and I can't seem to let go of that. As that one guy said to the other in Brokeback Mountain, I just can't seem to quit her.
But I have moments - LOTS of them - when I wonder whether I'm listening to the voice of God pushing me to remain open, or just my own strong, stubborn will. And whether I should start letting go.
I loved this scene from The Notebook back when I was still with my wife - the arguing part struck me then. The "pain-in-the ass" 99% of the time resonated loudly!
Young Noah: Would you just stay with me?
Young Allie: Stay with you? What for? Look at us, we're already fightin'
Because that is where I am today. Maybe my faith is foolish. Apparently, only time will tell. But right now, apparently, I'm not yet ready to let go...
And this is what I was really thinking about when I started the Endings entry with: "Letting go is never easy. Figuring out when to and how to make it harder still."
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If you like this, stick around and read other entries. Hit a few on the right that are favorites, or go to the home page of the blog, and read from beginning to end. Take a moment to send me some feedback. Thanks for coming. Please come back soon.
To explain to you my current issue of letting go, I needed you to understand my sixth sense, and that I tend to trust it. Now you do. Or if you don't, go read it and then come back to this.
I wrote the following paragraph in the last entry:
I wrote a friend recently that it's a fine line between faith and foolishness, in particular reference to holding onto the hope of a relationship. When our faith is "rewarded" we look good. When it's not, it is quick to be dismissed as foolishness. I don't like that the wisdom in these choices can only be decided in hindsight and based upon results, but even as I type that, I recognize there are a lot of situations where our wisdom can only be seen when what we anticipate comes to fruition.
I am a big fan of romance. I love Nicholas Sparks. The Notebook is both my favorite book and my favorite movie. I recently watched The Vow and The Lucky One, and another favorite movie of mine is The Time Traveler's Wife. I love the idea that "true love" wins in the end. Against all odds. Against separation. I am a sap.
I don't think I believe in "The One" although I do have moments while in love, that I believe in soul mates. I think there are a series of "ones". I am too cynical to think that in a world of 7 billion, there is only ONE and that many of us are fortunate enough to find it. Although I did find comforting Plato's description of us initially as hermaphrodites, separated and then always looking for our other half. Again, I am a hopeless romantic.
Hopeless.
It gets me in trouble.
When I was with my wife, particularly towards the end with her volatility I had at some level come to peace with the possibility that we would separate at some point. That one day she would push me away and she would run away. But like all good romances, I had determined that I would stay true to her and wait for her to get herself together and come back to me. That I made a vow to her and I had every intention of keeping it. I would continue to wear my ring and wait.
There's a country song that talks about leaving every light in the house on to let one's love know that they were waiting for them. There's another country song about someone leaving and moving to Austin a year before and this guy leaving a message for her at on his answering machine message which he changed frequently, but always ended: "If this is Austin, I still love you".
There is something "noble" in waiting.
In the end, my wife crossed a line I couldn't have even imagined. I didn't know I had such lines, but when she did it, my reaction was immediate, and I pulled off the rings I swore I would always wear. Not in anger, not in outrage, not in the middle of an argument - as she had done several times - but in acceptance. It was over. And I could never trust her and be with her again after what she had done.
(A friend just texted me completely apropos and completely unrelated, but amusing, nonetheless in this context, as if she were reading over my shoulder: "She's an evil bitch". I'm not sure I would go that far, but again, in context, I thought it was amusing...).
That decision haunted me. In fact, it still haunts me. But I trust it. (That sixth sense trust your gut thing) I do not expect that one day she will come riding in on her white horse and that she will have done the very hard work that she needs to do to be healthy and that she'll want me back. I do not want that. I want her to be healthy, and it would be nice to know that she was well, but I have let go and I know better than to go back.
You would think that experience might teach me something about this ideal of waiting. But it doesn't.
I was very fortunate that an old friend came riding in on her white horse to help me pick up the pieces of my life. As was completely natural, I fell in love with her, even though she wasn't available. It was impossible not to. But, at the moment, she remains unavailable. (Love those qualifiers).
We became close in that period of time and we shared practically everything. She told me multiple times - almost with surprise - that I was the best friend she'd ever had, and that she had never been closer to anyone else. She told me that she could imagine sharing her life with me. But circumstances changed, and she is gone.
My feelings for her are unchanged. And despite new interests and distractions, there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about her and miss her. A lot of really hard things would have to happen in her life for us to be together. And I don't want her to experience that pain. So I have not pushed. I am not pushing. But I am waiting.
I don't believe I should have my life on hold, and I don't believe that I shouldn't be with others, necessarily, while I wait. And perhaps in that process - moving forward in my life - I might find that I do move on. I accept that possibility, and at moments, I hope that it will happen. But I feel this strong feeling in my gut, deep down in my bones, that in the end, we'll be together - or at the very least, we still have more in our future together, and I can't seem to let go of that. As that one guy said to the other in Brokeback Mountain, I just can't seem to quit her.
But I have moments - LOTS of them - when I wonder whether I'm listening to the voice of God pushing me to remain open, or just my own strong, stubborn will. And whether I should start letting go.
I loved this scene from The Notebook back when I was still with my wife - the arguing part struck me then. The "pain-in-the ass" 99% of the time resonated loudly!
Young Noah: Would you just stay with me?
Young Allie: Stay with you? What for? Look at us, we're already fightin'
Young Noah: Well that's what we do, we fight... You tell me
when I am being an arrogant son of a bitch and I tell you when you are a pain
in the ass. Which you are, 99% of the time. I'm not afraid to hurt your
feelings. You have like a 2 second rebound rate, then you're back doing the
next pain-in-the-ass thing.
Young Allie: So what?
Young Noah: So it's not gonna be easy. It's gonna be really
hard. We're gonna have to work at this every day, but I want to do that because
I want you. I want all of you, for ever, you and me, every day. Will you do
something for me, please? Just picture your life for me? 30 years from now, 40
years from now? What's it look like? If it's with him, go. Go! I lost you once,
I think I can do it again. If I thought that's what you really wanted.
Today, what resonates from me as I read this passage, is the last part: "I lost you once, I think I can do it again." The idea that we can withstand the loss, and yet, not let go. Because that is where I am today. Maybe my faith is foolish. Apparently, only time will tell. But right now, apparently, I'm not yet ready to let go...
And this is what I was really thinking about when I started the Endings entry with: "Letting go is never easy. Figuring out when to and how to make it harder still."
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If you like this, stick around and read other entries. Hit a few on the right that are favorites, or go to the home page of the blog, and read from beginning to end. Take a moment to send me some feedback. Thanks for coming. Please come back soon.
Sixth Sense
Yesterday's post Endings had a particular focus to it regarding "letting go" but even as I typed that opening line, I knew there was a whole other branch to discuss. In the circumstances and scenarios described in yesterday's post, the end was there. It was clear. All that was left to do was to "let go". But as I began, it isn't always clear when it is time to let go.
I wrote a friend recently that it's a fine line between faith and foolishness, in particular reference to holding onto the hope of a relationship. When our faith is "rewarded" we look good. When it's not, it is quick to be dismissed as foolishness. I don't like that the wisdom in these choices can only be decided in hindsight and based upon results, but even as I type that, I recognize there are a lot of situations where our wisdom can only be seen when what we anticipate comes to fruition.
That applies to so many situations. We have these sixth senses about things - or at least I do. I have these feelings so strong on a subject for which I can't articulate the basis. A fellow blogger I follow on Twitter (I'm getting versed, folks) wrote yesterday about having this bad feeling about something happening with her room-mate. My understanding is that everything was fine (although I am waiting for confirmation) - so was she "foolish" for worrying?
I don't think so. Even though everything turned out fine, I think we have an obligation to ourselves to listen to these voices. (Now you know why I seem to attract mentally ill women!). But seriously, the statistics are that we only use 10% of the grey matter we carry around in our cranium. But I think more is at work behind the scenes. I think our brain takes in a lot of information we aren't even aware of and processes it behind the scenes and then spits out the results, if important, to the rest of our brain.
I think these output come out in various forms. A sinking feeling. Hairs standing up on the back of your neck. Dreams.
There is a television series this season that illustrates a computer version of this process. Person of Interest on CBS. There was this super computer / program / algorithm that processes all of the information everywhere. All of the security camera data, all of the web data, all of the database entries that were accessible (and it was originally a government project, so it has high level access). Everything. And then, almost like that magic guru from the carnival machine, it spits out a ticket with a name on it. The people who get this name don't have any other information as to why this person might be in trouble or involved in trouble, just that this person should be watched.
I think our brains do the same thing as that super computer program.
I think we're human, though, and we don't always understand the results or what we're supposed to do with them. Some people refer to it as their gut.
There are some religious folks - from a variety of faiths - who believe that God is within us. And so, when we hear these voices, we might think we are hearing the voice of God.
I admit the temptation is there, and that I do sometimes firmly believe that a message I receive strongly is from God. That it is God telling me what I need to do or what I should do. It is God showing me a purpose to whatever steps I am taking or about to take.
But I find it hard sometimes to distinguish between God's will and my own. Particularly when it comes to letting go. But that, my friends, is another post. Because it is a fine line between foolishness and faith.
-----------------------------
If you like this, stick around and read other entries. Hit a few on the right that are favorites, or go to the home page of the blog, and read from beginning to end. Take a moment to send me some feedback. Thanks for coming. Please come back soon.
I wrote a friend recently that it's a fine line between faith and foolishness, in particular reference to holding onto the hope of a relationship. When our faith is "rewarded" we look good. When it's not, it is quick to be dismissed as foolishness. I don't like that the wisdom in these choices can only be decided in hindsight and based upon results, but even as I type that, I recognize there are a lot of situations where our wisdom can only be seen when what we anticipate comes to fruition.
That applies to so many situations. We have these sixth senses about things - or at least I do. I have these feelings so strong on a subject for which I can't articulate the basis. A fellow blogger I follow on Twitter (I'm getting versed, folks) wrote yesterday about having this bad feeling about something happening with her room-mate. My understanding is that everything was fine (although I am waiting for confirmation) - so was she "foolish" for worrying?
I don't think so. Even though everything turned out fine, I think we have an obligation to ourselves to listen to these voices. (Now you know why I seem to attract mentally ill women!). But seriously, the statistics are that we only use 10% of the grey matter we carry around in our cranium. But I think more is at work behind the scenes. I think our brain takes in a lot of information we aren't even aware of and processes it behind the scenes and then spits out the results, if important, to the rest of our brain.
I think these output come out in various forms. A sinking feeling. Hairs standing up on the back of your neck. Dreams.
There is a television series this season that illustrates a computer version of this process. Person of Interest on CBS. There was this super computer / program / algorithm that processes all of the information everywhere. All of the security camera data, all of the web data, all of the database entries that were accessible (and it was originally a government project, so it has high level access). Everything. And then, almost like that magic guru from the carnival machine, it spits out a ticket with a name on it. The people who get this name don't have any other information as to why this person might be in trouble or involved in trouble, just that this person should be watched.
I think our brains do the same thing as that super computer program.
I think we're human, though, and we don't always understand the results or what we're supposed to do with them. Some people refer to it as their gut.
There are some religious folks - from a variety of faiths - who believe that God is within us. And so, when we hear these voices, we might think we are hearing the voice of God.
I admit the temptation is there, and that I do sometimes firmly believe that a message I receive strongly is from God. That it is God telling me what I need to do or what I should do. It is God showing me a purpose to whatever steps I am taking or about to take.
But I find it hard sometimes to distinguish between God's will and my own. Particularly when it comes to letting go. But that, my friends, is another post. Because it is a fine line between foolishness and faith.
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If you like this, stick around and read other entries. Hit a few on the right that are favorites, or go to the home page of the blog, and read from beginning to end. Take a moment to send me some feedback. Thanks for coming. Please come back soon.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Doh! Spell Check!
It is easy in these days of spell check to give crap to others - or at least think it - when we see spelling errors. Use Spell Check! Microsoft and other applications have tried to make it easier for you by making a red squiggly line so you don't have to open it and run it.
Blogger makes you run it.
And even though I'm a former English major and should spell everything perfectly, I don't.
And sometimes, I forget to spell check!
Typos happen.
I'm human.
And I just realized that the footer I had added - and have since ideally fixed - had a typo, that I then copied and pasted over and over. Ooops.
So try to remember to be kind when you come across typos. We've been spoiled by those programs that send, literally, red flags to announce our typos to us, that we have become lazy, and blind.
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If you like this, stick around and read other entries. Hit a few on the right that are favorites, or go to the home page of the blog, and read from beginning to end. Take a moment to send me some feedback. Thanks for coming. Please come back soon.
Blogger makes you run it.
And even though I'm a former English major and should spell everything perfectly, I don't.
And sometimes, I forget to spell check!
Typos happen.
I'm human.
And I just realized that the footer I had added - and have since ideally fixed - had a typo, that I then copied and pasted over and over. Ooops.
So try to remember to be kind when you come across typos. We've been spoiled by those programs that send, literally, red flags to announce our typos to us, that we have become lazy, and blind.
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If you like this, stick around and read other entries. Hit a few on the right that are favorites, or go to the home page of the blog, and read from beginning to end. Take a moment to send me some feedback. Thanks for coming. Please come back soon.
Endings
Letting go is never easy. Figuring out when to and how to make it harder still.
In my head I have a general timeframe of when my marriage went south. No-one will argue that the last year and a half we were together that we were in the process of ending it and letting go, despite our attempts to make it work.
Even when I realized it was over, it still took a full month for me to leave and let go of my expectations of what might or could happen.
Three years later, I am still rebuilding my life.
A colleague of mine has been in one of these phases the last year. His wife announced to the pastor that they were getting divorced. Then, they were going to counseling, and then yesterday he confided to me that they were divorcing again.
I empathized with his unexpressed helplessness. There are kids involved, and he remembers his own experience with his parents' multiple marriages. I sensed his defeat and his uncertainty at what was best and how to move forward.
He doesn't want the divorce. And I have no idea if only for the kids, or also because of remaining affection for his wife. This period takes a lot out of you. I shared with him that I knew it was finally the end when she made one of her many threats to end it all, and I felt relief.
I remember well the night after a day and a half of long emotional terror when she announced by text (she had run away by then - having snuck out of the window from a locked room so that I still have no idea how long I spent pleading to an empty room - that she was going to pack up her car and essentially ride off into the sunset.
My mother - correctly - warned me that this wouldn't happen. That my ex didn't really have a practical plan, and wouldn't really be so stupid as to leave and leave everything behind.
But I remember the immense relief I felt. I remember feeling the pleasure at a sense of certainty. So long that I couldn't even remember I had been continuously planning to leave all options open in case we stayed together, in case we didn't. Until she had suggested a finality, something I could actually plan, I didn't even realize how exhausting that was.
I knew the road ahead of me would be hard. We were behind on our mortgage and many other payments. But I had found myself limited in making long term plans with my hands tied not knowing what was happening with us.
My mother was right. She didn't leave. And even though she had family in the area that she had frequently threatened to go live with, she never did that, either.
Instead, she made my life a living hell to where I had no choice but to not only let go and walk away from her, but also to walk away from everything else in my life. From, essentially, my life.
I admit I mourn that more than I mourn losing her. Even though at some level it was just stuff. Letting go of my life, after I left, has been really hard.
Sometimes I have wondered why letting go of her was easier. And I came to realize it wasn't. I had just started earlier. I was looking back the other day at some old emails to friends. And I was surprised to remember that there was another milestone point in the end of our relationship - that we had been having problems a good year or so before the period I typically think of as the beginning of the end. I had softened my memory. But in hindsight, I had been learning to let go of her over three years before I was able to actually let go.
Today, another friend received correspondence from her soon to be ex-spouse saying that in order for him to be happy, he couldn't have any more contact with her. And while I know she was done being his wife, I can only imagine that part of her reaction is part of letting go, and the pain when someone else lets go of us.
It isn't easy to know these things, to go through these things. It takes time.
When my colleague told me of the change in tides, all I could do was give him a big hug. Even knowing that with time it gets better, it is hard to watch those you care about struggle with letting go.
As Elizabeth Bishop once wrote, the art of losing isn't hard to master:
-- Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) a disaster.
-----------------------------
If you like this, stick around and read other entries. Hit a few on the right that are favorites, or go to the home page of the blog, and read from beginning to end. Take a moment to send me some feedback. Thanks for coming. Please come back soon.
In my head I have a general timeframe of when my marriage went south. No-one will argue that the last year and a half we were together that we were in the process of ending it and letting go, despite our attempts to make it work.
Even when I realized it was over, it still took a full month for me to leave and let go of my expectations of what might or could happen.
Three years later, I am still rebuilding my life.
A colleague of mine has been in one of these phases the last year. His wife announced to the pastor that they were getting divorced. Then, they were going to counseling, and then yesterday he confided to me that they were divorcing again.
I empathized with his unexpressed helplessness. There are kids involved, and he remembers his own experience with his parents' multiple marriages. I sensed his defeat and his uncertainty at what was best and how to move forward.
He doesn't want the divorce. And I have no idea if only for the kids, or also because of remaining affection for his wife. This period takes a lot out of you. I shared with him that I knew it was finally the end when she made one of her many threats to end it all, and I felt relief.
I remember well the night after a day and a half of long emotional terror when she announced by text (she had run away by then - having snuck out of the window from a locked room so that I still have no idea how long I spent pleading to an empty room - that she was going to pack up her car and essentially ride off into the sunset.
My mother - correctly - warned me that this wouldn't happen. That my ex didn't really have a practical plan, and wouldn't really be so stupid as to leave and leave everything behind.
But I remember the immense relief I felt. I remember feeling the pleasure at a sense of certainty. So long that I couldn't even remember I had been continuously planning to leave all options open in case we stayed together, in case we didn't. Until she had suggested a finality, something I could actually plan, I didn't even realize how exhausting that was.
I knew the road ahead of me would be hard. We were behind on our mortgage and many other payments. But I had found myself limited in making long term plans with my hands tied not knowing what was happening with us.
My mother was right. She didn't leave. And even though she had family in the area that she had frequently threatened to go live with, she never did that, either.
Instead, she made my life a living hell to where I had no choice but to not only let go and walk away from her, but also to walk away from everything else in my life. From, essentially, my life.
I admit I mourn that more than I mourn losing her. Even though at some level it was just stuff. Letting go of my life, after I left, has been really hard.
Sometimes I have wondered why letting go of her was easier. And I came to realize it wasn't. I had just started earlier. I was looking back the other day at some old emails to friends. And I was surprised to remember that there was another milestone point in the end of our relationship - that we had been having problems a good year or so before the period I typically think of as the beginning of the end. I had softened my memory. But in hindsight, I had been learning to let go of her over three years before I was able to actually let go.
Today, another friend received correspondence from her soon to be ex-spouse saying that in order for him to be happy, he couldn't have any more contact with her. And while I know she was done being his wife, I can only imagine that part of her reaction is part of letting go, and the pain when someone else lets go of us.
It isn't easy to know these things, to go through these things. It takes time.
When my colleague told me of the change in tides, all I could do was give him a big hug. Even knowing that with time it gets better, it is hard to watch those you care about struggle with letting go.
As Elizabeth Bishop once wrote, the art of losing isn't hard to master:
-- Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) a disaster.
-----------------------------
If you like this, stick around and read other entries. Hit a few on the right that are favorites, or go to the home page of the blog, and read from beginning to end. Take a moment to send me some feedback. Thanks for coming. Please come back soon.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Unfinished Masterpieces
For the most part, once I start writing here, I finish and hit "Publish". I'm not an overnight draft-thinker. You can probably tell that I don't agonize over every word, and polish this beyond shining to brilliant.
So, when I look at my Blogger dashboard, most of the entries I've written are published.
Only four remain drafts.
And I think their titles are very instructive on a topic I've been trying to write about. Here are the titles:
But unfortunately for me, all four tie together into the same topic.
My big serious (we got married, after all) relationsihp that ended was with a woman who was mentally ill. Unfortunately, we got to a place where my being there was more hurtful to her than my being gone. It's a long story that the telling of wouldn't really add much more value here. I still regret, though, leaving her, even though I knew I had no other choice.
It's been a few years since that relationship imploded, and I have continued to breathe, to live, to be. I have even fallen in love again since then, although as is my luck, that person is unavailable. I have also had a crush or two. It is good to know that a broken heart can still function despite the wear and tear.
There is a lot of thought here - a lot of meat to write about - in these inter-related topics.
And maybe, some day, I will.. and I will hit "publish".
-----------------------------
If you like this, stick around and read other entries. Hit a few on the right that are favorites, or go to the home page of the blog, and read from beginning to end. Take a moment to send me some feedback. Thanks for coming. Please come back soon.
So, when I look at my Blogger dashboard, most of the entries I've written are published.
Only four remain drafts.
And I think their titles are very instructive on a topic I've been trying to write about. Here are the titles:
- Love
- Mental Illness
- Choices
- True Love or The One
But unfortunately for me, all four tie together into the same topic.
My big serious (we got married, after all) relationsihp that ended was with a woman who was mentally ill. Unfortunately, we got to a place where my being there was more hurtful to her than my being gone. It's a long story that the telling of wouldn't really add much more value here. I still regret, though, leaving her, even though I knew I had no other choice.
It's been a few years since that relationship imploded, and I have continued to breathe, to live, to be. I have even fallen in love again since then, although as is my luck, that person is unavailable. I have also had a crush or two. It is good to know that a broken heart can still function despite the wear and tear.
There is a lot of thought here - a lot of meat to write about - in these inter-related topics.
And maybe, some day, I will.. and I will hit "publish".
-----------------------------
If you like this, stick around and read other entries. Hit a few on the right that are favorites, or go to the home page of the blog, and read from beginning to end. Take a moment to send me some feedback. Thanks for coming. Please come back soon.
Monday, May 14, 2012
Clark Kent
I wonder if there is a "superheroes" anonymous support group for Superman, Flash, Wonderwoman, Batman, and all the caped (and not-so-caped) crusaders? I mean is there a support group for those who do one thing with part of their life as one identity, and then go about their regular lives in another identity.
I am very much myself. I don't know how to be anyone but myself. I'm not a pretender. I don't play games. I've never really been in a closet, never had to pretend to be anything other than me. I'm just me. For better or worse. I hope for better.
So, I find myself getting to know people as this "alter ego". Which as I type my entries, I'm me, in my head, but I am hiding behind this secret identity. And I have begun twitting, as you know, in this alternate identity, but I do not twit in real life. Which doesn't make sense, exactly.
So I am starting to make connections as me. Well, as the Borg Blog, which IS me, but isn't.
At some point, I may want to meet some of you in real life, or to have you know ME, as I am.
I wonder if Jenny ever tried to hide behind The Bloggess, or if she gave up her identity early.
I have some of my favorite bloggers following me here on Twitter. I'm excited, because I enjoy their blogs. But one of my blogger followers also knows Clark Kent. We're actually starting to get a little conversation going, and a part of me wants to scream out to her that she is already following me as Superman, er, Borg Blog. But I'm trying to keep the identities separate. And it isn't as if she's shared HER real name with me.
I don't know how those superheroes did it. I imagine the money from the movies helps them cope...
Eventually, I imagine, I'll end up disclosing my secret identity. Particularly if I want a book deal like The Bloggess... Until then, just enjoy this caped crusader and be friendly to those around you. One of them could be me.
-----------------------------
If you like this, stick around and read other entries. Hit a few on the right that are favorites, or go to the home page of the blog, and read from beginning to end. Take a moment to send me some feedback. Thanks for coming. Please come back soon.
I am very much myself. I don't know how to be anyone but myself. I'm not a pretender. I don't play games. I've never really been in a closet, never had to pretend to be anything other than me. I'm just me. For better or worse. I hope for better.
So, I find myself getting to know people as this "alter ego". Which as I type my entries, I'm me, in my head, but I am hiding behind this secret identity. And I have begun twitting, as you know, in this alternate identity, but I do not twit in real life. Which doesn't make sense, exactly.
So I am starting to make connections as me. Well, as the Borg Blog, which IS me, but isn't.
At some point, I may want to meet some of you in real life, or to have you know ME, as I am.
I wonder if Jenny ever tried to hide behind The Bloggess, or if she gave up her identity early.
I have some of my favorite bloggers following me here on Twitter. I'm excited, because I enjoy their blogs. But one of my blogger followers also knows Clark Kent. We're actually starting to get a little conversation going, and a part of me wants to scream out to her that she is already following me as Superman, er, Borg Blog. But I'm trying to keep the identities separate. And it isn't as if she's shared HER real name with me.
I don't know how those superheroes did it. I imagine the money from the movies helps them cope...
Eventually, I imagine, I'll end up disclosing my secret identity. Particularly if I want a book deal like The Bloggess... Until then, just enjoy this caped crusader and be friendly to those around you. One of them could be me.
-----------------------------
If you like this, stick around and read other entries. Hit a few on the right that are favorites, or go to the home page of the blog, and read from beginning to end. Take a moment to send me some feedback. Thanks for coming. Please come back soon.
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Shower-Time
I must admit there is something about lathering my hair in the shower with shampoo that seems to massage the creative writing juices in me. I can create these incredibly well-worded pieces to be written, but like dreams, they seem to fade quickly as soon as I exit the shower.
I have begun, actually, keeping a dream journal. It is crazy what little tidbits from the previous day seem to enter into our subconscious and manifest themselves in our nocturnal wanderings.
One of the reasons I began keeping the dream journal was after a colleague commented about one of my dreams connecting it to another dream I told her about earlier that I, now, had no memory remaining of such dream or telling her about it. That she, someone who I thought I kept at somewhat of a distance, was able to recall and connect my dreams suggested that I, too, might want to collect and connect my dreams to each other.
I have a very vivid dream cycle lately. So vivid, in fact, that it's hard to wake up and go wherever it is I need to go next. So vivid, in fact, that I look forward to afternoon naps much as a kid looks forward to his tv time when he gets home from school. Sometimes I remember the dreams after, and often, I don't.
Much like my shower thoughts.
This morning, for instance, inspired by some random comment about Thomas Jefferson writing 19,000 letters, I constructed this long detailed framework for a snail mail correspondence to a friend of mine who had sent me a letter last fall by mail that I had not responded to, yet, in the same form. Don't worry, she knows I'm still alive. We are, after all, Facebook friends. We've even spoken on the phone and I acknowledged how wonderful it was to get her letter, and my regret at not having yet responded in kind.
So, in the shower this framework of a letter forms. The first introductory paragraphs, apologizing for the delay in writing, and how much I love and enjoy the form of writing are written whole as I rub-a-dub-dub. And then all the areas of my life that I want to share with her - lost loves, unrequited loves, unavailable loves (wait, there seems to be a pattern developing here) as well as my hum-drum every day life, begin to form.
In the shower, I dream up this vivid rich correspondence. The letter will be ten pages typed by the time I'm done. I am so inspired that even though I got in the shower so that I could move forward with a different task I need to do today, I felt compelled to sit down - still in my towel - and begin this epic letter that I had dreamed up in my shower.
"Dear xxx," it began so originally.
Then I crafted this inelegant paragraph:
"The last time I tried to write you via snail mail, I did it by hand, and I think that was part of the cause of failure. I type much more easily than I do write by hand. And, fortunate for you, it is much more legible when I type."
That was not quite how I had mastered it - or clearly NOT mastered it - in the shower. And then, all of the rest of what I wanted to write, while I sit here in front of my laptop in only my towel, disappeared. And I stared at the remaining blank "page" on the screen.
You know there is that moment when you wake up from a dream when it is so vivid and fresh in your mind you think you'll never forget it. Boy are you wrong. Even by the time I manage to open up a place to write it down, it has already begun to fragment. Sometimes all I can get down are things I hope / think will trigger memories of pieces of it.
"Saw Dad."
No memory of what Dad was doing, or why he was in there, but I remember that much. And I remembered it with such intensity, that the fact that it stuck after it faded must mean it's important.
I am brilliant in the shower. I am a virtuoso of words in the shower.
But by the time I get here, so often, it has faded.
I know, now, that I will not finish that letter. That despite the shower-time inspiration, clarity, intensity of the mission, it will not get written. At least not as I had envisioned it there. Perhaps another shower another day may inspire me past: "you're lucky I'm typing this because my handwriting sucks" inspiration.
Or perhaps, it will, instead, inspire another brilliant blog entry.
I try to capture my shower inspirations, much as I capture my dreams. Because I believe if I string them together they may have some meaning. But maybe, in the end, they will just be fragments. I'll never know, though, if I don't step back and look at them as a whole.
Read on...
-----------------------------
If you like this, stick around and read other entries. Hit a few on the right that are favorites, or go to the home page of the blog, and read from beginning to end. Take a moment to send me some feedback. Thanks for coming. Please come back soon.
I have begun, actually, keeping a dream journal. It is crazy what little tidbits from the previous day seem to enter into our subconscious and manifest themselves in our nocturnal wanderings.
One of the reasons I began keeping the dream journal was after a colleague commented about one of my dreams connecting it to another dream I told her about earlier that I, now, had no memory remaining of such dream or telling her about it. That she, someone who I thought I kept at somewhat of a distance, was able to recall and connect my dreams suggested that I, too, might want to collect and connect my dreams to each other.
I have a very vivid dream cycle lately. So vivid, in fact, that it's hard to wake up and go wherever it is I need to go next. So vivid, in fact, that I look forward to afternoon naps much as a kid looks forward to his tv time when he gets home from school. Sometimes I remember the dreams after, and often, I don't.
Much like my shower thoughts.
This morning, for instance, inspired by some random comment about Thomas Jefferson writing 19,000 letters, I constructed this long detailed framework for a snail mail correspondence to a friend of mine who had sent me a letter last fall by mail that I had not responded to, yet, in the same form. Don't worry, she knows I'm still alive. We are, after all, Facebook friends. We've even spoken on the phone and I acknowledged how wonderful it was to get her letter, and my regret at not having yet responded in kind.
So, in the shower this framework of a letter forms. The first introductory paragraphs, apologizing for the delay in writing, and how much I love and enjoy the form of writing are written whole as I rub-a-dub-dub. And then all the areas of my life that I want to share with her - lost loves, unrequited loves, unavailable loves (wait, there seems to be a pattern developing here) as well as my hum-drum every day life, begin to form.
In the shower, I dream up this vivid rich correspondence. The letter will be ten pages typed by the time I'm done. I am so inspired that even though I got in the shower so that I could move forward with a different task I need to do today, I felt compelled to sit down - still in my towel - and begin this epic letter that I had dreamed up in my shower.
"Dear xxx," it began so originally.
Then I crafted this inelegant paragraph:
"The last time I tried to write you via snail mail, I did it by hand, and I think that was part of the cause of failure. I type much more easily than I do write by hand. And, fortunate for you, it is much more legible when I type."
That was not quite how I had mastered it - or clearly NOT mastered it - in the shower. And then, all of the rest of what I wanted to write, while I sit here in front of my laptop in only my towel, disappeared. And I stared at the remaining blank "page" on the screen.
You know there is that moment when you wake up from a dream when it is so vivid and fresh in your mind you think you'll never forget it. Boy are you wrong. Even by the time I manage to open up a place to write it down, it has already begun to fragment. Sometimes all I can get down are things I hope / think will trigger memories of pieces of it.
"Saw Dad."
No memory of what Dad was doing, or why he was in there, but I remember that much. And I remembered it with such intensity, that the fact that it stuck after it faded must mean it's important.
I am brilliant in the shower. I am a virtuoso of words in the shower.
But by the time I get here, so often, it has faded.
I know, now, that I will not finish that letter. That despite the shower-time inspiration, clarity, intensity of the mission, it will not get written. At least not as I had envisioned it there. Perhaps another shower another day may inspire me past: "you're lucky I'm typing this because my handwriting sucks" inspiration.
Or perhaps, it will, instead, inspire another brilliant blog entry.
I try to capture my shower inspirations, much as I capture my dreams. Because I believe if I string them together they may have some meaning. But maybe, in the end, they will just be fragments. I'll never know, though, if I don't step back and look at them as a whole.
Read on...
-----------------------------
If you like this, stick around and read other entries. Hit a few on the right that are favorites, or go to the home page of the blog, and read from beginning to end. Take a moment to send me some feedback. Thanks for coming. Please come back soon.
Friday, April 27, 2012
"To tear flesh"
I try to read daily and I try, daily, to read something that I label broadly "spiritual" although what I usually mean by that is something to make me think about my life and how I impact others.
While pursuing that mental / spiritual exercise last week, I read a little blurb about sarcasm. The blurb was discussing about how sarcasm is a tool in our arsenal to protect ourselves emotionally. I believe the word "repugnant" was used to describe the use of it, and we, the readers, were encouraged to eliminate sarcasm from our lives.
Noble pursuit, and not the first time I've read something that has caused me to think about my own use of sarcasm. Sarcasm has been my friend for most of my life. I'd like to think that I didn't use it to keep *people* at a distance, but instead to keep me at a distance from situations that were uncomfortable. To make light of things in my life that were not as wonderful as I might want them to be. Instead of directly complaining or addressing the situations - usually because I was or felt powerless to change them - instead I made "light" of them (or so I have believed) to distance their importance to me.
Y'know the situation. When you tell someone else - not the person responsible - how much you LOVE it when someone forgets to pick you up after school. How GREAT it is when your parents fight. How you've ALWAYS wanted to take six buses and walk three miles to get to your favorite place (like home?).
Sarcasm was my friend. As a kid, I was powerless to change the situations. So, I would *say* the words that suggested I was "happy" about them. Maybe to convince myself. But cerrtainly as a coping mechanism to distance me from them.
With the lens of an adult, I am unsure just how bad my adolescence really was. At the time, there seemed to be a lot of challenges. At the time, I was a bit of a melodramatic teenager. It was my job as teenager. In the bigger picture of life, I had a roof over my head, food on the table, and clothes on my back. As an adult, I have learned to appreciate these simple blessings. Although, even now, I hope for more in my life than just these basics.
I'd like to think that I don't use sarcasm as a tool against others. But I do not know. It is impossible for me to step back far enough to know how I use it, because once I get to that place, I think more before actually using it. Which, I guess, is a good thing.
But this last week, I have been thinking more strongly than before about the use of sarcasm as a result of what I read in this blurb. And I think, once you read this, you, too, will think twice before you next choose to wield sarcasm as a "tool". The passage said that sarcasm comes from the Greek word which means "to tear flesh".
For the most part, I would have said that my use of sarcasm is harmless. Or mostly harmless. But when can the tearing of flesh ever be harmless? Even the tiniest paper cut can really hurt and sting.
How differently would we communicate with each other if we could see the literal wounds we inflict when we speak? How much gentler, kinder, and more thoughtful would we be? If we could see the way we make others bleed, how could we continue to act in that manner?
I think we have a responsibility to think about our communications with each other and think more clearly about how what we say might affect others. That by our words, we might "tear flesh".
We may say that sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me, but we all know that this is something we tell ourselves and that words do hurt. So take care when you speak to others and be gentle with each other.
While pursuing that mental / spiritual exercise last week, I read a little blurb about sarcasm. The blurb was discussing about how sarcasm is a tool in our arsenal to protect ourselves emotionally. I believe the word "repugnant" was used to describe the use of it, and we, the readers, were encouraged to eliminate sarcasm from our lives.
Noble pursuit, and not the first time I've read something that has caused me to think about my own use of sarcasm. Sarcasm has been my friend for most of my life. I'd like to think that I didn't use it to keep *people* at a distance, but instead to keep me at a distance from situations that were uncomfortable. To make light of things in my life that were not as wonderful as I might want them to be. Instead of directly complaining or addressing the situations - usually because I was or felt powerless to change them - instead I made "light" of them (or so I have believed) to distance their importance to me.
Y'know the situation. When you tell someone else - not the person responsible - how much you LOVE it when someone forgets to pick you up after school. How GREAT it is when your parents fight. How you've ALWAYS wanted to take six buses and walk three miles to get to your favorite place (like home?).
Sarcasm was my friend. As a kid, I was powerless to change the situations. So, I would *say* the words that suggested I was "happy" about them. Maybe to convince myself. But cerrtainly as a coping mechanism to distance me from them.
With the lens of an adult, I am unsure just how bad my adolescence really was. At the time, there seemed to be a lot of challenges. At the time, I was a bit of a melodramatic teenager. It was my job as teenager. In the bigger picture of life, I had a roof over my head, food on the table, and clothes on my back. As an adult, I have learned to appreciate these simple blessings. Although, even now, I hope for more in my life than just these basics.
I'd like to think that I don't use sarcasm as a tool against others. But I do not know. It is impossible for me to step back far enough to know how I use it, because once I get to that place, I think more before actually using it. Which, I guess, is a good thing.
But this last week, I have been thinking more strongly than before about the use of sarcasm as a result of what I read in this blurb. And I think, once you read this, you, too, will think twice before you next choose to wield sarcasm as a "tool". The passage said that sarcasm comes from the Greek word which means "to tear flesh".
For the most part, I would have said that my use of sarcasm is harmless. Or mostly harmless. But when can the tearing of flesh ever be harmless? Even the tiniest paper cut can really hurt and sting.
How differently would we communicate with each other if we could see the literal wounds we inflict when we speak? How much gentler, kinder, and more thoughtful would we be? If we could see the way we make others bleed, how could we continue to act in that manner?
I think we have a responsibility to think about our communications with each other and think more clearly about how what we say might affect others. That by our words, we might "tear flesh".
We may say that sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me, but we all know that this is something we tell ourselves and that words do hurt. So take care when you speak to others and be gentle with each other.
The dance...
The beginnings of a new relationship are a dance. One steps forward, and the other steps back. The other steps forward, and the partner steps back. Back and forth in concert with each other.
Sounds lovely and fluid and well choreographed.
And maybe, sometimes, it is.
It's really been a number of years since I've really done the dance. And while I love to LITERALLY dance a lot, this dance I don't have a lot of experience with doing.
I have been, for the most part, a serial monogamist. Going from one long-term relationship to the next, and each one increasing in length, suggesting that MAYBE I learned something from the one before.
Frankly, I don't think it's that I learned anything, as much as I think that the more mature we get, the more realistic we enter into a relationship, the better chance of success it has.
------
Remember those first dances in junior high? Uncertain whether a boy (or a girl) was going to ask you to dance. And then if you did dance, wondering what it meant? Would he (or she) try to kiss you? And if they did, would that mean you're going out? And didn't it always seem more significant and serious if the dance they asked you for was a *slow* dance? Where do the hands go? Again, what does it mean?
There was a dance to the dance.
------
In both circumstances, the question is, do they like me? And do they like me the way that I like them? That's the dance. How do you express that you like someone? There's the timing, the intensity of expression, the manner of expression. An ask to a dance. A touch of the knee. A hug. A kiss. Oh, and then there's the words: "I like you". But that's too simple. "I want you." "I love you" "I love spending time with you."
There are so many potential steps to take in this dance.
------
People liked "The Rules" - for those who liked the Rules - for the same reason I like country line dancing. I like line dancing because I don't have to think about what the next step is, I'm not free-forming it and worrying that I look like an idiot to others. Once I feel comfortable with the basic steps, there is room to add my own flair and style, but simply competently following the steps is enough to make me look good. Or at least okay. And I don't have to think too much or wonder too much about what others might be thinking of me.
The Rules were designed to take that awkwardness out of the situation. A lot of simple if, thens. If he asks you out after Wednesday night, say "no". Let him contact you x number of times before you respond, etc.
I'm not a Rules girl. By a long shot. But in a world of women with low self-esteem who jump on anything that sorta moves in their direction, showing some restraint, and culling the herd by waiting until a real interest is shown makes some sense.
It is easy to get something in your head, and pursue it so strongly you don't pay attention to what is really happening.
When building a fire, in real life, there is often a time where blowing on the fire can help it grow. But you have to pay attention to the intensity of the air and where it is applied so that you don't overpower the tender flame and blow it out. The Rules are designed to keep one from blowing too hard and extinguishing the flame that might actually be there.
-----
The dance can be fun. That's what I keep telling myself.
Sounds lovely and fluid and well choreographed.
And maybe, sometimes, it is.
It's really been a number of years since I've really done the dance. And while I love to LITERALLY dance a lot, this dance I don't have a lot of experience with doing.
I have been, for the most part, a serial monogamist. Going from one long-term relationship to the next, and each one increasing in length, suggesting that MAYBE I learned something from the one before.
Frankly, I don't think it's that I learned anything, as much as I think that the more mature we get, the more realistic we enter into a relationship, the better chance of success it has.
------
Remember those first dances in junior high? Uncertain whether a boy (or a girl) was going to ask you to dance. And then if you did dance, wondering what it meant? Would he (or she) try to kiss you? And if they did, would that mean you're going out? And didn't it always seem more significant and serious if the dance they asked you for was a *slow* dance? Where do the hands go? Again, what does it mean?
There was a dance to the dance.
------
In both circumstances, the question is, do they like me? And do they like me the way that I like them? That's the dance. How do you express that you like someone? There's the timing, the intensity of expression, the manner of expression. An ask to a dance. A touch of the knee. A hug. A kiss. Oh, and then there's the words: "I like you". But that's too simple. "I want you." "I love you" "I love spending time with you."
There are so many potential steps to take in this dance.
------
People liked "The Rules" - for those who liked the Rules - for the same reason I like country line dancing. I like line dancing because I don't have to think about what the next step is, I'm not free-forming it and worrying that I look like an idiot to others. Once I feel comfortable with the basic steps, there is room to add my own flair and style, but simply competently following the steps is enough to make me look good. Or at least okay. And I don't have to think too much or wonder too much about what others might be thinking of me.
The Rules were designed to take that awkwardness out of the situation. A lot of simple if, thens. If he asks you out after Wednesday night, say "no". Let him contact you x number of times before you respond, etc.
I'm not a Rules girl. By a long shot. But in a world of women with low self-esteem who jump on anything that sorta moves in their direction, showing some restraint, and culling the herd by waiting until a real interest is shown makes some sense.
It is easy to get something in your head, and pursue it so strongly you don't pay attention to what is really happening.
When building a fire, in real life, there is often a time where blowing on the fire can help it grow. But you have to pay attention to the intensity of the air and where it is applied so that you don't overpower the tender flame and blow it out. The Rules are designed to keep one from blowing too hard and extinguishing the flame that might actually be there.
-----
The dance can be fun. That's what I keep telling myself.
Twenty Two Days
Blogging is NOT an easy business. I follow several bloggers and now I have even greater sympathy when they discuss the efforts they make to ensure that they create time in their schedules to blog. I appreciate, even more, when I receive entries two days in a row from them (I get e-mails for many of my favorite blogs, you can, too, by hitting one of those options off to the side here on this blog!)
I'd love to blame it all on tulip-girl. I'd love to tell you that we'd embarked upon a wild tumultuous passionate affair, and frankly, I've been too busy with her to write here.
Nope. But thanks for the good wishes, because I know that's what my four regular readers from the Ukraine have been thinking.
I'd love to blame it on winning the Mega Millions lottery and embarking upon a whirlwind charitable world tour. Because, of course, that's what I would do if I won Mega Millions - I'd travel the world being charitable to others. Isn't that at the top of your list? To give it away to others? That's what I thought.
Nope. But thanks for the good wishes, because I know that's what my four regular readers from the Ukraine have been thinking.
I can blame it on ADD, and on life, and on you (why not? Oh, yeah, because if I start blaming things on you, you might stop reading...).
First, there was Holy Week. Being involved in my church meant I actually attended all four services leading up to and including Easter Sunday. That wiped me out. For weeks. Actually, seriously.
Then there is the ADD-thing. Habits and structure are a big part of getting things done (if you get things done) with ADD. So I got out of the habit of writing during the tail end of Holy Week and in the weeks recovering.
You probably thought I forgot all about this. I hadn't.
And, well, actually, tulip-girl has played a part of it, too. No, we have not embarked upon a wild tumultuous passionate affair. Yet. But we have been spending time together and getting to know each other more. We haven't even kissed. Yet. But the signs of interest continue to accrue. A touch here, a touch there. Some of my friends say it is just a matter of time.
Well, then, time will tell. And, as I keep returning to, resistance is futile.
I'd love to blame it all on tulip-girl. I'd love to tell you that we'd embarked upon a wild tumultuous passionate affair, and frankly, I've been too busy with her to write here.
Nope. But thanks for the good wishes, because I know that's what my four regular readers from the Ukraine have been thinking.
I'd love to blame it on winning the Mega Millions lottery and embarking upon a whirlwind charitable world tour. Because, of course, that's what I would do if I won Mega Millions - I'd travel the world being charitable to others. Isn't that at the top of your list? To give it away to others? That's what I thought.
Nope. But thanks for the good wishes, because I know that's what my four regular readers from the Ukraine have been thinking.
I can blame it on ADD, and on life, and on you (why not? Oh, yeah, because if I start blaming things on you, you might stop reading...).
First, there was Holy Week. Being involved in my church meant I actually attended all four services leading up to and including Easter Sunday. That wiped me out. For weeks. Actually, seriously.
Then there is the ADD-thing. Habits and structure are a big part of getting things done (if you get things done) with ADD. So I got out of the habit of writing during the tail end of Holy Week and in the weeks recovering.
You probably thought I forgot all about this. I hadn't.
And, well, actually, tulip-girl has played a part of it, too. No, we have not embarked upon a wild tumultuous passionate affair. Yet. But we have been spending time together and getting to know each other more. We haven't even kissed. Yet. But the signs of interest continue to accrue. A touch here, a touch there. Some of my friends say it is just a matter of time.
Well, then, time will tell. And, as I keep returning to, resistance is futile.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Likes and Hearsay
Law schools annually try to teach a somewhat simple concept that becomes convoluted to poor little law students: Hearsay. Which is defined by the Federal Rules of Evidence as: "statement, other than one made by the declarant while testifying at the trial or hearing, offered in evidence to prove the truth of the matter asserted."
Part of the difficulty in understanding the definition of hearsay has to come from poor sentence structure. I am sure that grammarians who enjoy diagramming sentences find it a challenge.
Which should not be surprising given that evidence teachers have been giving exams and exercises of examples for students to determine whether a statement is hearsay or not. To make matters even more confusing, the same statement could be hearsay, and might not be hearsay.
Basically a statement is hearsay if it is being given to prove the substance of the statement. See below.
"John testified that George said, 'The pigs are blue'"
That statement might be hearsay or might not. If John is testifying to provide evidence that the pigs are blue, then it's hearsay and can't be admitted. Instead, the lawyers should get George on the stand who saw the blue pigs. John's statement would be excluded.
If John's testimony is designed to prove that George is nuts, then the statement is admissible. (Although, "nuts" has to be explained and determined by a series of expert witnesses who provide the foundation for what can be determined as "nuts"... but that's a whole other barrel of fun in the law)
Seems simple enough.
I was thinking about the various scenarios of hearsay this morning as I was thinking about "like"ing in Facebook.
So often we hit "like" not because we like the content of the statement - "Jimmy fell on his face and all he managed to break was an eyelash". I'd like it because it made me laugh, but not because I like that Jimmy fell on his face.
And that makes things complicated. So, instead of clicking "like" we'll write convoluted statements like, "This is so wrong to like but man I cracked up!"
Or clarify that it made us laugh by something simple as "lol".
But I have noticed a pattern of friends liking all the comments to their Facebook statuses. Despite the fact that it's election season, and so I should be suspicious of these things, I do NOT think it is a conspiracy to boost their own popularity (although, clearly, I acknowledge the possibility).
It's one thing when you've done something great, and then everyone gives you encouragement in response to your status. Those make sense to "like". I've seen someone ask for a recommendation, and then seen the status poster like everyone's suggestion (except mine? What's wrong with suggesting cleaning out your toaster while it's still plugged in with a metal knife?). I assume, sometimes, these are a way of saying "thank you for your suggestion".
And then there are times when I think we get stuck. We have started to like folks that if we don't continue liking everything in sight, we are afraid we might hurt someone.
But the point is that I recognize that sometimes, when we hit "like" on Facebook, it isn't because we like the "truth of the matter asserted", but simply because we were amused or grateful or felt some other positive feeling and that was our only (lazy?) option to express it.
Or, really, it is all just a popularity contest...
Part of the difficulty in understanding the definition of hearsay has to come from poor sentence structure. I am sure that grammarians who enjoy diagramming sentences find it a challenge.
Which should not be surprising given that evidence teachers have been giving exams and exercises of examples for students to determine whether a statement is hearsay or not. To make matters even more confusing, the same statement could be hearsay, and might not be hearsay.
Basically a statement is hearsay if it is being given to prove the substance of the statement. See below.
"John testified that George said, 'The pigs are blue'"
That statement might be hearsay or might not. If John is testifying to provide evidence that the pigs are blue, then it's hearsay and can't be admitted. Instead, the lawyers should get George on the stand who saw the blue pigs. John's statement would be excluded.
If John's testimony is designed to prove that George is nuts, then the statement is admissible. (Although, "nuts" has to be explained and determined by a series of expert witnesses who provide the foundation for what can be determined as "nuts"... but that's a whole other barrel of fun in the law)
Seems simple enough.
I was thinking about the various scenarios of hearsay this morning as I was thinking about "like"ing in Facebook.
So often we hit "like" not because we like the content of the statement - "Jimmy fell on his face and all he managed to break was an eyelash". I'd like it because it made me laugh, but not because I like that Jimmy fell on his face.
And that makes things complicated. So, instead of clicking "like" we'll write convoluted statements like, "This is so wrong to like but man I cracked up!"
Or clarify that it made us laugh by something simple as "lol".
But I have noticed a pattern of friends liking all the comments to their Facebook statuses. Despite the fact that it's election season, and so I should be suspicious of these things, I do NOT think it is a conspiracy to boost their own popularity (although, clearly, I acknowledge the possibility).
It's one thing when you've done something great, and then everyone gives you encouragement in response to your status. Those make sense to "like". I've seen someone ask for a recommendation, and then seen the status poster like everyone's suggestion (except mine? What's wrong with suggesting cleaning out your toaster while it's still plugged in with a metal knife?). I assume, sometimes, these are a way of saying "thank you for your suggestion".
And then there are times when I think we get stuck. We have started to like folks that if we don't continue liking everything in sight, we are afraid we might hurt someone.
But the point is that I recognize that sometimes, when we hit "like" on Facebook, it isn't because we like the "truth of the matter asserted", but simply because we were amused or grateful or felt some other positive feeling and that was our only (lazy?) option to express it.
Or, really, it is all just a popularity contest...
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
The devil you know? The grass is greener?
I have been spending a lot of time thinking about a new opportunity. Something potentially exciting, something potentially fun, something potentially wonderful.
But also something potentially complicated, potentially full of drama, and potentially explosive and harmful.
We judge such things against what we already know, or have known. How much is x like y?
It is easy to stay stuck in something we already know. Something we have become comfortable with and know how to handle and what to expect.
It is easy to crave what we once had and once enjoyed, and to get stuck in that, rather than take a chance on something new. To see if the grass is greener.
It is tough because sometimes something new reminds us of something old - something we may not have anymore outside our memory, but may want or wish we still had. Will this something new ever live up to our idealized memories? Is it fair to compare?
Maybe not. But we do. It's the only way we humans can process new information and new things, to compare them and understand them within the experience that we have already had.
It can make something new bittersweet if we're not careful.
I think we are supposed to find a way to treasure the past, but embrace the future. When we get married, the tradition is to wear something old, and something new. In Girl Scouts, we sing the song "Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other gold."
The cool thing, though, is that over time, those "silver" friends become "gold", so it is worthwhile to take chances, to try something new, because one day, it will be something old which we cherish with fondness and perhaps a slight lonigng, too. And it may be what we use to compare the next new thing.
Embrace the opportunity. Because resistance is futile.
But also something potentially complicated, potentially full of drama, and potentially explosive and harmful.
We judge such things against what we already know, or have known. How much is x like y?
It is easy to stay stuck in something we already know. Something we have become comfortable with and know how to handle and what to expect.
It is easy to crave what we once had and once enjoyed, and to get stuck in that, rather than take a chance on something new. To see if the grass is greener.
It is tough because sometimes something new reminds us of something old - something we may not have anymore outside our memory, but may want or wish we still had. Will this something new ever live up to our idealized memories? Is it fair to compare?
Maybe not. But we do. It's the only way we humans can process new information and new things, to compare them and understand them within the experience that we have already had.
It can make something new bittersweet if we're not careful.
I think we are supposed to find a way to treasure the past, but embrace the future. When we get married, the tradition is to wear something old, and something new. In Girl Scouts, we sing the song "Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other gold."
The cool thing, though, is that over time, those "silver" friends become "gold", so it is worthwhile to take chances, to try something new, because one day, it will be something old which we cherish with fondness and perhaps a slight lonigng, too. And it may be what we use to compare the next new thing.
Embrace the opportunity. Because resistance is futile.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Tulips in my kitchen..
God has a sense of humor. I have always said that.
A friend of mine got a little too close to a flame recently after I warned her to keep some distance, that the flame was dangerous. I could see it coming a mile away.
My friend must be feeling amused as she sees me nearing a flame, too, and ignoring her warnings. At least I hope amusement is part of her feelings.
I have a new friend. And while I hate to admit it, sometimes same sex friendships can be tricky when you're a dyke.
When you're out and about, you sometimes attract a certain kind of straight woman. One who isn't completely straight after all. You living your life and being comfortable with who you are and seeming to be somewhat normal suddenly allows them to wonder about certain feelings they have had.
I hate to admit it, but there's a pattern to their behavior.
I didn't recognize it at first.
But when all my straight friends (okay not ALL my straight friends), but when many of my straight friends turned queer, I couldn't help but recognize a pattern.
It is not, as I like to believe and kid, because I am irresistable. Nor is it something in the water - mostly because I don't drink much water.
But I can vaguely remember my baby dyke days and being intrigued and interested in those few folks who had been initially discovered to be lesbians. You look at yourself, and you look at them to see if it is possible that you are one of them. It's a natural comparison. Sometimes it's obvious and conscious, and sometimes it's not.
You admit, though, that we do it with any group. Walk into a new church or religious institution of your choice. You look at them, you look at yourself, and you try to decide if you fit in. Natural group dynamics. Natural self-identity stuff. Walk into a bar. Walk into any group for the first time. You do it. You figure out if you fit in - or if you even want to fit in.
So I have this new friend. And I really like her, and I could really use a stable available local friend. I enjoy her company. But the signs are starting to show..
They're subtle. To explain them would make everyone else feel self-conscious. Because frankly a lot of the signs aren't done on a conscious level. Some can be. And some of the behaviors or tells by themselves are not enough to confirm or be signs. Sometimes it's the confluence of signs.
And I don't want my straight friends who are happily straight to stop doing some of those things. Like give me flowers.
But last night, she gave me tulips.
-----------------------------
If you like this, stick around and read other entries. Hit a few on the right that are favorites, or go to the home page of the blog, and read from beginning to end. Take a moment to send me some feedback. Thanks for coming. Please come back soon.
A friend of mine got a little too close to a flame recently after I warned her to keep some distance, that the flame was dangerous. I could see it coming a mile away.
My friend must be feeling amused as she sees me nearing a flame, too, and ignoring her warnings. At least I hope amusement is part of her feelings.
I have a new friend. And while I hate to admit it, sometimes same sex friendships can be tricky when you're a dyke.
When you're out and about, you sometimes attract a certain kind of straight woman. One who isn't completely straight after all. You living your life and being comfortable with who you are and seeming to be somewhat normal suddenly allows them to wonder about certain feelings they have had.
I hate to admit it, but there's a pattern to their behavior.
I didn't recognize it at first.
But when all my straight friends (okay not ALL my straight friends), but when many of my straight friends turned queer, I couldn't help but recognize a pattern.
It is not, as I like to believe and kid, because I am irresistable. Nor is it something in the water - mostly because I don't drink much water.
But I can vaguely remember my baby dyke days and being intrigued and interested in those few folks who had been initially discovered to be lesbians. You look at yourself, and you look at them to see if it is possible that you are one of them. It's a natural comparison. Sometimes it's obvious and conscious, and sometimes it's not.
You admit, though, that we do it with any group. Walk into a new church or religious institution of your choice. You look at them, you look at yourself, and you try to decide if you fit in. Natural group dynamics. Natural self-identity stuff. Walk into a bar. Walk into any group for the first time. You do it. You figure out if you fit in - or if you even want to fit in.
So I have this new friend. And I really like her, and I could really use a stable available local friend. I enjoy her company. But the signs are starting to show..
They're subtle. To explain them would make everyone else feel self-conscious. Because frankly a lot of the signs aren't done on a conscious level. Some can be. And some of the behaviors or tells by themselves are not enough to confirm or be signs. Sometimes it's the confluence of signs.
And I don't want my straight friends who are happily straight to stop doing some of those things. Like give me flowers.
But last night, she gave me tulips.
-----------------------------
If you like this, stick around and read other entries. Hit a few on the right that are favorites, or go to the home page of the blog, and read from beginning to end. Take a moment to send me some feedback. Thanks for coming. Please come back soon.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
WTF?
So, I saw this today on the Huffington Post:
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/03/27/pennsylvania-church-kidnaps-teens-holds-them-at-gunpoint-to-teach-a-lesson_n_1382605.html?ref=mostpopular
And I gotta wonder where someone thinks that it makes sense to teach kids WHAT it feels like to be a *captive* Christian missionary in another country?
Is this the prep program before sending them off to be missionaries?
And I watched the video, and there's the youth pastor saying, "I think she was laughing". Why would anyone laugh unless they knew it wasn't real?
And then the comment somewhere in all of it, that maybe, next time, we'll get parental permission.
Uh, yeah?
Um, next time?
As a friend of mine would then post on Facebook: "Discuss"
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/03/27/pennsylvania-church-kidnaps-teens-holds-them-at-gunpoint-to-teach-a-lesson_n_1382605.html?ref=mostpopular
And I gotta wonder where someone thinks that it makes sense to teach kids WHAT it feels like to be a *captive* Christian missionary in another country?
Is this the prep program before sending them off to be missionaries?
And I watched the video, and there's the youth pastor saying, "I think she was laughing". Why would anyone laugh unless they knew it wasn't real?
And then the comment somewhere in all of it, that maybe, next time, we'll get parental permission.
Uh, yeah?
Um, next time?
As a friend of mine would then post on Facebook: "Discuss"
It's been a week!
Down the long road, a week's absence will seem like a blip as I hit my 3,000th post, and this is merely an archive that others explore of the early Borg Blog. But for me, trying to build a habit, I probably shouldn't go so long.
Hence illustrating the power of the funk.
Hence illustrating the power of the funk.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
I am in a funk!
I do believe that depression can be chemical.
Because it is a beautifully sunny day, I have a job (two actually), a roof over my head, food in the fridge, functioning car, mostly functioning body, and nothing, really, to be depressed about.
No, my life isn't perfect, and if I wanted to be a drama queen - which I don't - I could create another list of circumstances about my life that might even make you depressed, but I won't.
Because I don't honestly believe they are the issue.
I am not wasting much if any of my energy worrying or even thinking about those things. Because I do have faith that they will all work out.
And I definitely have moments of happiness and enjoyment in my daily life. I smile and laugh often.
I rarely wake up - whether in the morning or from a nap - feeling "refreshed". Ready to jump on what is next. Usually, I want to snuggle in a little deeper to my cocoon and go back to sleep. I want to feel surrounded by the warmth of my blanket and stay there snug and secure.
I lack drive. Something to look forward to, something to motivate me, something to work towards.
My life just is. And I feel wrong for expecting and wanting more because I imagine this is what life is for most of us. It just is.
But I am in a funk, no less...
Because it is a beautifully sunny day, I have a job (two actually), a roof over my head, food in the fridge, functioning car, mostly functioning body, and nothing, really, to be depressed about.
No, my life isn't perfect, and if I wanted to be a drama queen - which I don't - I could create another list of circumstances about my life that might even make you depressed, but I won't.
Because I don't honestly believe they are the issue.
I am not wasting much if any of my energy worrying or even thinking about those things. Because I do have faith that they will all work out.
And I definitely have moments of happiness and enjoyment in my daily life. I smile and laugh often.
I rarely wake up - whether in the morning or from a nap - feeling "refreshed". Ready to jump on what is next. Usually, I want to snuggle in a little deeper to my cocoon and go back to sleep. I want to feel surrounded by the warmth of my blanket and stay there snug and secure.
I lack drive. Something to look forward to, something to motivate me, something to work towards.
My life just is. And I feel wrong for expecting and wanting more because I imagine this is what life is for most of us. It just is.
But I am in a funk, no less...
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Who are you?
Okay. I admit it. I'm curious. Who are you? Leave an anonymous comment below or send me an e-mail and tell me about yourself.
Let me know what struck you, and what, if anything, keeps you coming back. Except you, borgfan129 - I know it's the secret messages you keep coming back for. ;) Keep coming. Send your friends.
Now. Go back out and enjoy spring!
Some interesting referring URLs/sites:
baby-car-seats.info
buy-a-computer.info
cooking-ideas.hot-trend-now.com
www.singlescrowd.com
getdentalimplantsinfo.com
chanelbagsoutletsales.com
And I've had two hits from the search: "I admit this is a shameless"... What were you looking for?
Let me know what struck you, and what, if anything, keeps you coming back. Except you, borgfan129 - I know it's the secret messages you keep coming back for. ;) Keep coming. Send your friends.
Now. Go back out and enjoy spring!
Some interesting referring URLs/sites:
baby-car-seats.info
buy-a-computer.info
cooking-ideas.hot-trend-now.com
www.singlescrowd.com
getdentalimplantsinfo.com
chanelbagsoutletsales.com
And I've had two hits from the search: "I admit this is a shameless"... What were you looking for?
It's Spring!
And the last thing any of us might want to do is sit inside in a space without windows and miss the beautiful weather that is now upon us.
Spring is the time that things thaw and begin to blossom. I use the vague term things because it is more than just Mother Nature, but also relationships and life all around us. Having more sunshine is a positive influence and rings out a more positive attitude.
Smiles are blooming...
At least this is my wish for you. For us.
So, if it's still daylight out, step away from the screen and go outside and get some fresh air. Just five minutes won't hurt you. If you're not a smoker, pretend you are one and step outside and take a deep breath.
Just do it.
Resistance is futile.
Spring is the time that things thaw and begin to blossom. I use the vague term things because it is more than just Mother Nature, but also relationships and life all around us. Having more sunshine is a positive influence and rings out a more positive attitude.
Smiles are blooming...
At least this is my wish for you. For us.
So, if it's still daylight out, step away from the screen and go outside and get some fresh air. Just five minutes won't hurt you. If you're not a smoker, pretend you are one and step outside and take a deep breath.
Just do it.
Resistance is futile.
Friday, March 16, 2012
The Ides of March
The Ides of March didn't work out so well for our old friend Julius. Betrayal by his closest friends brought him to his death. Oops.
I can't imagine why this hasn't become a Hallmark holiday? I think on the 15th of March, we should observe the Ides of March, and avoid our friends.
Because nothing good can happen.
Cynical? Perhaps. But perhaps, if like Valentine's Day, we have one day dedicated to betrayal and deceit we can get it out of our systems. We only need to worry about these things on one day a year. The rest of the year would be rainbows, sunshine and unicorns. Right?
Well, maybe not.
But maybe there is something to the pull of the moon on that day of the year that does portend danger or recommend that we take greater care with our significantly emotional relationships. Fancy words for our best friends. Because they will disappoint.
But only on the fifteenth. By the time the sixteenth rolls around, all doom and gloom is gone.
Beware the Ides of March. But enjoy the sixteenth, and on the seventeenth, raise a green beer and celebrate your friends. You surivived the original March madness.
Resistance is futile.
I can't imagine why this hasn't become a Hallmark holiday? I think on the 15th of March, we should observe the Ides of March, and avoid our friends.
Because nothing good can happen.
Cynical? Perhaps. But perhaps, if like Valentine's Day, we have one day dedicated to betrayal and deceit we can get it out of our systems. We only need to worry about these things on one day a year. The rest of the year would be rainbows, sunshine and unicorns. Right?
Well, maybe not.
But maybe there is something to the pull of the moon on that day of the year that does portend danger or recommend that we take greater care with our significantly emotional relationships. Fancy words for our best friends. Because they will disappoint.
But only on the fifteenth. By the time the sixteenth rolls around, all doom and gloom is gone.
Beware the Ides of March. But enjoy the sixteenth, and on the seventeenth, raise a green beer and celebrate your friends. You surivived the original March madness.
Resistance is futile.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Absence makes the heart grow fonder?
Well, I can only hope as I have been absent these past few days.
Battling the dueling issues of having a life and having health issues, and trying to have a life while dealing with health issues.
At the moment, battling insomnia which makes it a perfect time to take a moment to write.
I will be honest with you. The health issues are not just physical, but also emotional. I have been fighting a mild depression and a sense of home-sickness.
Which is strange because I realize part of the problem is that I don't know where my "home" is.
Billy Joel had a wonderful song that is one of my favorites entitled "You're My Home". The chorus states: "Well, I never had a place that I could call my very own, but that's all right my love 'cause you're my home."
I have often felt that sense of "home" in others. That is where I have found my home. As I mentioned in the "Who am I" section, I have had a geographically diverse background. I've lived in lots of places. I have been very fortunate.
The second verse sings, "When you touch my weary head and you tell me everything will be all right. You say use my body for your bed and my love will keep you warm throughout the night."
That is what I am looking for. Someone who will tell me everything will be all right, and in whom I can rest. Someone to just touch my weary head and pull me in closer.
I had a glimpse of that recently and I lost it. It was never really mine to begin with, and that was part of the trouble.
Another friend had a glimpse of it recently and also lost it. It is AMAZING how we can give advice to others that we like to ignore for ourselves. I reassured this friend repeatedly that this special experience she had with this woman was not unique to this woman, and that she would experience it again with someone else. All the while refusing to believe it for myself.
And then she did. Have that special wonderful experience with someone else. Brat. How dare she go prove me right?
Another reason why I don't think I'd make a good priest. When I go to seek The Book for solace, it isn't The Bible. Nope, it's usually something by the Dalai Lama. And so I pulled out my copy of The Art of Happiness which I can't seem to book mark enough (I don't dog ear, but if I did, nearly all the pages would be dog eared, and then they'd lose their significance). If I highlighted, the whole book would be colored. But I only do that while in school. And even then, sparingly.
The thing that touched me this time when I picked up The Book - and I'll paraphrase this and likely butcher the intent - was the Dalai Lama boiling down life to one simple drive: that all we want as humans is love and affection, and that this is what drives us and underlies all our behavior.
I recently saw the 2008 Japanese movie Departures. It is about a young cellist who loses his job when the orchestra dissolves and becomes an encoffineer - the person who prepares bodies prior to being placed into coffins. The ritual is done with great care and affection in front of family members. And I was touched by this movie. In many ways. It exemplified for me this underlying desire that the Dalai Lama had touched on about us all seeking love and affection. This ritual expressed this in one simple graceful final act. It is a beautiful and touching movie that I highly recommend.
How strange it is for me to admit that I felt jealousy for the care those dead bodies received. How nice it would be to be treated in such a fashion while still alive. It reminded me, in case I had forgotten, that I am not meant to be a solitary creature. (I hadn't forgotten)
I have been homesick. And perhaps one day I will once again find someone new in whom I can find a home. In the meantime, if I were to follow my own advice, I will have to find it within myself, and spread throughout the affection I receive from others. However, in all likelihood, I will simply continue to miss the woman I felt was home.
Resistance is futile.
-----------------------------
If you like this, stick around and read other entries. Hit a few on the right that are favorites, or go to the home page of the blog, and read from beginning to end. Take a moment to send me some feedback. Thanks for coming. Please come back soon.
Battling the dueling issues of having a life and having health issues, and trying to have a life while dealing with health issues.
At the moment, battling insomnia which makes it a perfect time to take a moment to write.
I will be honest with you. The health issues are not just physical, but also emotional. I have been fighting a mild depression and a sense of home-sickness.
Which is strange because I realize part of the problem is that I don't know where my "home" is.
Billy Joel had a wonderful song that is one of my favorites entitled "You're My Home". The chorus states: "Well, I never had a place that I could call my very own, but that's all right my love 'cause you're my home."
I have often felt that sense of "home" in others. That is where I have found my home. As I mentioned in the "Who am I" section, I have had a geographically diverse background. I've lived in lots of places. I have been very fortunate.
The second verse sings, "When you touch my weary head and you tell me everything will be all right. You say use my body for your bed and my love will keep you warm throughout the night."
That is what I am looking for. Someone who will tell me everything will be all right, and in whom I can rest. Someone to just touch my weary head and pull me in closer.
I had a glimpse of that recently and I lost it. It was never really mine to begin with, and that was part of the trouble.
Another friend had a glimpse of it recently and also lost it. It is AMAZING how we can give advice to others that we like to ignore for ourselves. I reassured this friend repeatedly that this special experience she had with this woman was not unique to this woman, and that she would experience it again with someone else. All the while refusing to believe it for myself.
And then she did. Have that special wonderful experience with someone else. Brat. How dare she go prove me right?
Another reason why I don't think I'd make a good priest. When I go to seek The Book for solace, it isn't The Bible. Nope, it's usually something by the Dalai Lama. And so I pulled out my copy of The Art of Happiness which I can't seem to book mark enough (I don't dog ear, but if I did, nearly all the pages would be dog eared, and then they'd lose their significance). If I highlighted, the whole book would be colored. But I only do that while in school. And even then, sparingly.
The thing that touched me this time when I picked up The Book - and I'll paraphrase this and likely butcher the intent - was the Dalai Lama boiling down life to one simple drive: that all we want as humans is love and affection, and that this is what drives us and underlies all our behavior.
I recently saw the 2008 Japanese movie Departures. It is about a young cellist who loses his job when the orchestra dissolves and becomes an encoffineer - the person who prepares bodies prior to being placed into coffins. The ritual is done with great care and affection in front of family members. And I was touched by this movie. In many ways. It exemplified for me this underlying desire that the Dalai Lama had touched on about us all seeking love and affection. This ritual expressed this in one simple graceful final act. It is a beautiful and touching movie that I highly recommend.
How strange it is for me to admit that I felt jealousy for the care those dead bodies received. How nice it would be to be treated in such a fashion while still alive. It reminded me, in case I had forgotten, that I am not meant to be a solitary creature. (I hadn't forgotten)
I have been homesick. And perhaps one day I will once again find someone new in whom I can find a home. In the meantime, if I were to follow my own advice, I will have to find it within myself, and spread throughout the affection I receive from others. However, in all likelihood, I will simply continue to miss the woman I felt was home.
Resistance is futile.
-----------------------------
If you like this, stick around and read other entries. Hit a few on the right that are favorites, or go to the home page of the blog, and read from beginning to end. Take a moment to send me some feedback. Thanks for coming. Please come back soon.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Step Away From The Keyboard
Raise your hand if in this day and age of instant everything you've done something stupid.
Yeah, that's right, I thought there might be a few of you who would have benefited - like I would - with a little more thought before posting, replying, texting, exposing our own stupidity.
Back in the golden age (okay, maybe not THE golden age...) we used to sit at our writing desks, take out our special stationary, our lovely ink pen, and actually write out letters to communicate with those at a distance. We had to go through the process of writing it out by hand - which usually took longer than we can text a bomb to a loved one - and then place letter in envelope, address, and somehow manage to get it out to the rest of the world. Either by manservant (for those 1% equivalents in the golden age) or by placing a stamp on it and waiting for the post man or taking it to a mailbox or post office.
These things took time. You had more than a few seconds from initial thought to execution before you managed to deliver something stupid.
And, ideally, then the person who received something potentially stupid also had a little more time before a response could be expected. Ideally to respond in a more gracious manner than perhaps you wrote.
ADD and the ability to instantly connect - or disconnect as the case may be - presents its own challenges.
And perhaps, sometimes, I should remember my admonitions of yesterday, step away from the keyboard, and do nothing.
Yeah, that's right, I thought there might be a few of you who would have benefited - like I would - with a little more thought before posting, replying, texting, exposing our own stupidity.
Back in the golden age (okay, maybe not THE golden age...) we used to sit at our writing desks, take out our special stationary, our lovely ink pen, and actually write out letters to communicate with those at a distance. We had to go through the process of writing it out by hand - which usually took longer than we can text a bomb to a loved one - and then place letter in envelope, address, and somehow manage to get it out to the rest of the world. Either by manservant (for those 1% equivalents in the golden age) or by placing a stamp on it and waiting for the post man or taking it to a mailbox or post office.
These things took time. You had more than a few seconds from initial thought to execution before you managed to deliver something stupid.
And, ideally, then the person who received something potentially stupid also had a little more time before a response could be expected. Ideally to respond in a more gracious manner than perhaps you wrote.
ADD and the ability to instantly connect - or disconnect as the case may be - presents its own challenges.
And perhaps, sometimes, I should remember my admonitions of yesterday, step away from the keyboard, and do nothing.
Hmm..
Alt Subject: A follow up to What a week!
So, I was talking to my priest and mentioned my conversation with my father about me becoming a priest. And I mentioned my fool-proof reason why I couldn't become one. That whole reading the bible from beginning to end thing. That whole ADD issue.
And then I made my mistake. I asked him if he'd read the whole Bible. And found out he had not. So-o-o... apparently it's not a job requirement.
Sh-h-h... don't tell my Dad...
So, I was talking to my priest and mentioned my conversation with my father about me becoming a priest. And I mentioned my fool-proof reason why I couldn't become one. That whole reading the bible from beginning to end thing. That whole ADD issue.
And then I made my mistake. I asked him if he'd read the whole Bible. And found out he had not. So-o-o... apparently it's not a job requirement.
Sh-h-h... don't tell my Dad...
Monday, March 5, 2012
Do Nothing...
We like to think that we are a society of action. In our multi-tasking, crazy fast-paced world, we feel that we always must be doing SOMETHING. We are bombarded with the media to "Just Do It!" Writers, when facing that dreaded blank page (although usually these days it is a screen) are admonished to just write even if it's crap, and edit it later. Get the juices flowing to start. A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. Get busy living..
We are a society geared for action.
A body in motion stays in motion...
Blah, blah, blah.
Don't get me wrong. That is all fine and dandy, and sometimes, when we're stuck, we should just take what little steps we can to get ourselves moving forward. FlyLady is based on that idea that just a little bit at a time and we'll make more progress then we might realize.
It is easy to get stuck looking at the "big" picture and get overwhelmed and paralyzed. It is easy, then, to do nothing. Lord knows there is enough in my life that I have faced that it was easier to put off than to do.
But that isn't what this post is about. This isn't about the hyperactive do everything, and everything must be done mentality.
This is about those situations where the answer is to actually do nothing. Where what is best is to do nothing.
Those situations, sometimes, are the hardest to deal with. They can come in many forms. Such as bedrest for a difficult pregnancy. Staying off a limb or joint after an injury. Or healing emotionally after a trauma.
We want to get moving. We don't want to stay still. We want to believe we heal faster than we might. We want to push ourselves. We don't know how to stop. We see that light, or hope for that light, at the end of the tunnel, when we aren't being pulled back by our limitations.
Those situations are difficult.
But I pose, perhaps, they are not the hardest. At least not for me. For me the hardest situations are doing nothing when someone close to me needs help. Or, at a minimum, is hurting. Because really the whole point is that they may not need help. Or more accurately, they may not need my help.
And I see this issue over and over again when I watch adults figure out how to parent. Where to set boundaries. When to let their children make mistakes. We want so hard to protect the ones we love, and it is so hard to realize that we can't always protect them, and that sometimes, even harder to accept, our protection is not really helping protect them after all.
It is easy for me to see these things professionally - to figure out where to streamline. To figure out where taking more time NOW to get the process right is better over the long run for the business, and overall will be more efficient.
Figuring these things out personally is much harder. At least for me. How much do you help your kid with his homework? At what point are you no longer helping but hindering him?
At my age, many of my friends around me are re-evaluating their long-term relationships. Having journeyed down this trail, I have some perspective on what to expect and how hard it is and ways to make it easier and ways it will be harder. I have seen enough to have a fairly good sense of when something is worth saving or even savable, and when staying will merely be spinning one's wheels. I know intimately the vulnerability and the fear that comes with the territory.
Much like a parent can see the troubles a kid might encounter if they take certain actions, I can often see the results of particular choices. And I care deeply about my friends and want to protect them from harm. I want to set up a flare of warning - no, don't go down that path - wait, come this way. You can go that way, but be aware that this might happen and decide what you want to do if it does.
Sometimes that is helpful. Sometimes that might even be wanted. But we all like to think of ourselves as masters of our own destiny, and think we know ourselves and our own situations best. And I am no exception. I am just as stubborn when others try to warn me. I think I will be different. ;) So I can respect my friends might feel the same way about their own journeys.
The hardest thing to do as a friend is step aside and watch them take the journey on their own. To find that right balance of being there for them, to catch them if they fall, hug them when they need it, but let them learn their own lessons, take their own path. It is hard to give someone that space even when it is what they need most.
I've had to do this with many friends. With one friend recently, I have been better able to step outside and recognize that no matter how much I may want to help them avoid certain pitfalls, I cannot protect them from everything. I am able to be amused standing outside and looking in. Early on, I warned her that she might not want to do x. She did x. It didn't work out as she would have hoped. I tried to bite my tongue and not directly say "I told you so..." but instead, more gently say, "I was worried about that happening."
She would innocently ask me why I didn't warn her. I'd tell her I did. She'd say "Oh". I'd laugh. Sometimes out loud with her. Sometimes not. But after the first few times I realized that she would hear my advice when she was ready to hear it. On the surface she wanted the advice, she was ready. But inside, she wasn't ready to accept the changes that would be happening in her life. Who really ever is?
And I began to realize that it matters not whether I warn her. That she, just as I did before her, will do whatever it is that she needs to do. And she may get hurt. I can't fix that. I can't protect her. I can't prevent it. No matter how much I may want to. Because it isn't about me simply protecting her from others. It is, I have realized, about me protecting her from herself. And she has the inside track to herself - I can't get between her and herself.
This has been a tough journey for me, too. Realizing that what I think helps is not always what helps. And that I have to step back and let whatever will be will be. That truly loving someone is letting them be themselves, and learn and grow and discover and experience their life. We cannot protect the ones we love from everything. We can't protect them from much. All we can do is love them and support them no matter what they do.
And that sometimes, the best thing we can do for them and for ourselves is nothing.
Resistance is futile.
We are a society geared for action.
A body in motion stays in motion...
Blah, blah, blah.
Don't get me wrong. That is all fine and dandy, and sometimes, when we're stuck, we should just take what little steps we can to get ourselves moving forward. FlyLady is based on that idea that just a little bit at a time and we'll make more progress then we might realize.
It is easy to get stuck looking at the "big" picture and get overwhelmed and paralyzed. It is easy, then, to do nothing. Lord knows there is enough in my life that I have faced that it was easier to put off than to do.
But that isn't what this post is about. This isn't about the hyperactive do everything, and everything must be done mentality.
This is about those situations where the answer is to actually do nothing. Where what is best is to do nothing.
Those situations, sometimes, are the hardest to deal with. They can come in many forms. Such as bedrest for a difficult pregnancy. Staying off a limb or joint after an injury. Or healing emotionally after a trauma.
We want to get moving. We don't want to stay still. We want to believe we heal faster than we might. We want to push ourselves. We don't know how to stop. We see that light, or hope for that light, at the end of the tunnel, when we aren't being pulled back by our limitations.
Those situations are difficult.
But I pose, perhaps, they are not the hardest. At least not for me. For me the hardest situations are doing nothing when someone close to me needs help. Or, at a minimum, is hurting. Because really the whole point is that they may not need help. Or more accurately, they may not need my help.
And I see this issue over and over again when I watch adults figure out how to parent. Where to set boundaries. When to let their children make mistakes. We want so hard to protect the ones we love, and it is so hard to realize that we can't always protect them, and that sometimes, even harder to accept, our protection is not really helping protect them after all.
It is easy for me to see these things professionally - to figure out where to streamline. To figure out where taking more time NOW to get the process right is better over the long run for the business, and overall will be more efficient.
Figuring these things out personally is much harder. At least for me. How much do you help your kid with his homework? At what point are you no longer helping but hindering him?
At my age, many of my friends around me are re-evaluating their long-term relationships. Having journeyed down this trail, I have some perspective on what to expect and how hard it is and ways to make it easier and ways it will be harder. I have seen enough to have a fairly good sense of when something is worth saving or even savable, and when staying will merely be spinning one's wheels. I know intimately the vulnerability and the fear that comes with the territory.
Much like a parent can see the troubles a kid might encounter if they take certain actions, I can often see the results of particular choices. And I care deeply about my friends and want to protect them from harm. I want to set up a flare of warning - no, don't go down that path - wait, come this way. You can go that way, but be aware that this might happen and decide what you want to do if it does.
Sometimes that is helpful. Sometimes that might even be wanted. But we all like to think of ourselves as masters of our own destiny, and think we know ourselves and our own situations best. And I am no exception. I am just as stubborn when others try to warn me. I think I will be different. ;) So I can respect my friends might feel the same way about their own journeys.
The hardest thing to do as a friend is step aside and watch them take the journey on their own. To find that right balance of being there for them, to catch them if they fall, hug them when they need it, but let them learn their own lessons, take their own path. It is hard to give someone that space even when it is what they need most.
I've had to do this with many friends. With one friend recently, I have been better able to step outside and recognize that no matter how much I may want to help them avoid certain pitfalls, I cannot protect them from everything. I am able to be amused standing outside and looking in. Early on, I warned her that she might not want to do x. She did x. It didn't work out as she would have hoped. I tried to bite my tongue and not directly say "I told you so..." but instead, more gently say, "I was worried about that happening."
She would innocently ask me why I didn't warn her. I'd tell her I did. She'd say "Oh". I'd laugh. Sometimes out loud with her. Sometimes not. But after the first few times I realized that she would hear my advice when she was ready to hear it. On the surface she wanted the advice, she was ready. But inside, she wasn't ready to accept the changes that would be happening in her life. Who really ever is?
And I began to realize that it matters not whether I warn her. That she, just as I did before her, will do whatever it is that she needs to do. And she may get hurt. I can't fix that. I can't protect her. I can't prevent it. No matter how much I may want to. Because it isn't about me simply protecting her from others. It is, I have realized, about me protecting her from herself. And she has the inside track to herself - I can't get between her and herself.
This has been a tough journey for me, too. Realizing that what I think helps is not always what helps. And that I have to step back and let whatever will be will be. That truly loving someone is letting them be themselves, and learn and grow and discover and experience their life. We cannot protect the ones we love from everything. We can't protect them from much. All we can do is love them and support them no matter what they do.
And that sometimes, the best thing we can do for them and for ourselves is nothing.
Resistance is futile.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
What a week!
Well, it's been quite a week since I called out The Bloggess. I've gotten quite a bit more traffic to the site as I had hoped, and hopefully a few of you will even stay. Two of my favorite bloggers are now following me on Twitter, and I wasn't even a twit, er, a tweep, er, a .. well, whatever twitter-lovers are, just a week ago.
I've even been told by someone that I am scarier than they are... which I think is a compliment. I hope it's one.. Perhaps that person will come back and let me know.
I can see the traffic to specific posts, but I don't know how many of you are coming back for the blog. I hope a lot.
It has been an exciting week and a fun one. I hope that it is just the beginning of a long and beautiful relationship with you, my audience, and that something I say makes you laugh, or stay, or read, or think.
I admit I am kind of between careers right now. Currently I am "consulting" which is a three-syllable fancy word for an outsider you pay money to look in. I do a variety of things, and hopefully I provide value, but it really is a catch-all for someone who is a contractor who will do whatever you need. Or think you need.
But I was talking with my father the other day, and not for the first time, thinking, I guess, that I need career advice, he suggested I consider becoming a priest. This from a man who probably hasn't been to church since I was baptized, but we'll ignore that part.
I think, to be fair, it is his way of acknowledging my "spiritual" side which has grown like a weed despite my parents raising. I have a strong faith, and in the face of "recent" turmoil, it is my faith that has kept me strong. It is a faith that they never gave me, but I have managed to find nonetheless.
I think it also a way to acknowledge his recognition that my church is an important part of my life. I go every Sunday. I am active in my church (I've forgotten what number that was on the list, but I know it was there).
I think, to be fair, it was his way of saying he loves me no matter who I am.
And for that, I am tremendously grateful.
But it's not the first time he has suggested in recent years I consider being a priest, nor the only one who has made such a suggestion. Usually I quite quickly answer "No.." but am unable to articulate why it's not the job for me. But I know it's not. They see someone who is a great listener, who can counsel friends and help them through crisis. They see someone who has great faith in a higher being. They see someone who is quick to help others. They see someone who goes to church a lot. They see someone who likes to talk. (They also see someone who is celibate, but I'm not Catholic (and then I'd have the whole being a woman and being gay problem, anyway) so that shouldn't be something calling me to the priesthood).
I finally came up, though, with the foolproof answer as to why I can't be a priest. One my father could agree with - although he may bring it up again, who knows.. Thanks to my ADD I don't have the patience to read the Bible from Genesis to Revelation - Alpha to Omega - and I think that might be a small requirement. He bought it, at least.
Now I have read more of the Bible than I suspect many people, including those who thump their Bibles (and what exactly happens when one thumps a Bible - or rather what does one expect will happen? God will Morse code a message back to you??), but I have far from read the whole thing, nor do I have any desire to do so. I can fight scripture with scripture if I have to - although the person who wrote the letter to Dr. Laura that was later paraphrased and re-done on The West Wing has done such a good job for most things, I don't need to bother. (That and the MasterCard spoof -- about a tattoo someone had on their arm about Leviticus saying homosexuality was wrong, that a few verses later in Leviticus that thou shalt not tattoo made this tattoo priceless -- also works. You probably have to see it...)
But I guess there is a part of me that is looking for a pulpit. A place to expound upon the observations I have made in life and perhaps a place, ideally, to give others some food for thought in their own lives. Not a bully pulpit, I hope. I don't know that what I think is necessarily right. I know it works for me most times, but that doesn't mean it would work for everyone, or that it is even right for me. However, I do think I have a few things of value to share, and I do seem to enjoy sharing them and hope that others might find some value.
And that, my friends, may be part of the underlying drive to blog. To find my pulpit. Without having to read the whole Bible. And this week I have seen my little "church" grow. And it pleases me.
Please leave a donation in the plate below. :D Thank you.
-----------------------------
If you like this, stick around and read other entries. Hit a few on the right that are favorites, or go to the home page of the blog, and read from beginning to end. Take a moment to send me some feedback. Thanks for coming. Please come back soon.
I've even been told by someone that I am scarier than they are... which I think is a compliment. I hope it's one.. Perhaps that person will come back and let me know.
I can see the traffic to specific posts, but I don't know how many of you are coming back for the blog. I hope a lot.
It has been an exciting week and a fun one. I hope that it is just the beginning of a long and beautiful relationship with you, my audience, and that something I say makes you laugh, or stay, or read, or think.
I admit I am kind of between careers right now. Currently I am "consulting" which is a three-syllable fancy word for an outsider you pay money to look in. I do a variety of things, and hopefully I provide value, but it really is a catch-all for someone who is a contractor who will do whatever you need. Or think you need.
But I was talking with my father the other day, and not for the first time, thinking, I guess, that I need career advice, he suggested I consider becoming a priest. This from a man who probably hasn't been to church since I was baptized, but we'll ignore that part.
I think, to be fair, it is his way of acknowledging my "spiritual" side which has grown like a weed despite my parents raising. I have a strong faith, and in the face of "recent" turmoil, it is my faith that has kept me strong. It is a faith that they never gave me, but I have managed to find nonetheless.
I think it also a way to acknowledge his recognition that my church is an important part of my life. I go every Sunday. I am active in my church (I've forgotten what number that was on the list, but I know it was there).
I think, to be fair, it was his way of saying he loves me no matter who I am.
And for that, I am tremendously grateful.
But it's not the first time he has suggested in recent years I consider being a priest, nor the only one who has made such a suggestion. Usually I quite quickly answer "No.." but am unable to articulate why it's not the job for me. But I know it's not. They see someone who is a great listener, who can counsel friends and help them through crisis. They see someone who has great faith in a higher being. They see someone who is quick to help others. They see someone who goes to church a lot. They see someone who likes to talk. (They also see someone who is celibate, but I'm not Catholic (and then I'd have the whole being a woman and being gay problem, anyway) so that shouldn't be something calling me to the priesthood).
I finally came up, though, with the foolproof answer as to why I can't be a priest. One my father could agree with - although he may bring it up again, who knows.. Thanks to my ADD I don't have the patience to read the Bible from Genesis to Revelation - Alpha to Omega - and I think that might be a small requirement. He bought it, at least.
Now I have read more of the Bible than I suspect many people, including those who thump their Bibles (and what exactly happens when one thumps a Bible - or rather what does one expect will happen? God will Morse code a message back to you??), but I have far from read the whole thing, nor do I have any desire to do so. I can fight scripture with scripture if I have to - although the person who wrote the letter to Dr. Laura that was later paraphrased and re-done on The West Wing has done such a good job for most things, I don't need to bother. (That and the MasterCard spoof -- about a tattoo someone had on their arm about Leviticus saying homosexuality was wrong, that a few verses later in Leviticus that thou shalt not tattoo made this tattoo priceless -- also works. You probably have to see it...)
But I guess there is a part of me that is looking for a pulpit. A place to expound upon the observations I have made in life and perhaps a place, ideally, to give others some food for thought in their own lives. Not a bully pulpit, I hope. I don't know that what I think is necessarily right. I know it works for me most times, but that doesn't mean it would work for everyone, or that it is even right for me. However, I do think I have a few things of value to share, and I do seem to enjoy sharing them and hope that others might find some value.
And that, my friends, may be part of the underlying drive to blog. To find my pulpit. Without having to read the whole Bible. And this week I have seen my little "church" grow. And it pleases me.
Please leave a donation in the plate below. :D Thank you.
-----------------------------
If you like this, stick around and read other entries. Hit a few on the right that are favorites, or go to the home page of the blog, and read from beginning to end. Take a moment to send me some feedback. Thanks for coming. Please come back soon.
Friday, March 2, 2012
Love Yourself Pt. 2
Alt. Title: Outrage
For those who haven't yet read the first post, I suggest you start there. It will make this one make more sense.
Okay. So are we on the same page now? Great.
I caught this story being circulated by the HRC yesterday and while still available, I signed their petition. It's a story about a principal who was telling students that if they were gay they were going to hell and if they were pregnant their lives were over. There is a joke in there about what if they were gay and pregnant, but I will resist because this is a serious subject.
The good news is that by the time I got around to writing this post, the principal has resigned.
But the story is not over, nor should it be, I hope.
The reason I was so outraged, in particular, about this story is that I could see my friend 20+ years ago sitting in the front row of that assembly. I could see the kids in her class using their principal's hate speech as an excuse and a reason to torment her. And if I could go back to her high school and beat up the people who harassed her then, I would. But I can't.
It is NOT enough that the principal has resigned and is no longer there. And I don't even want to know about where she might land next. I want this story to be more public so that she is notorious and no school will hire her to be in a position of influence over our youth. I don't want this to recur. Haven't we learned this from the scandals of the Catholic church who only removed a problem priest to simply place him in a new community?
It is not enough that the "The Haywood County Board of Education acknowledges its student body’s right to free speech. Further, the Haywood County Board of Education strives to provide an atmosphere of tolerance and diversity while maintaining high academic standards." The damage is done. We need to go back into that school and undo the damage.
Like when any crisis happens at a school - any form of violence, for this was emotionally violent - we need to work with the students to let them know that this was wrong.
So that when they hit their forties and finally struggle their way back out of the closet again, they won't wonder if this thing that makes them different is a cancer. And this is if they are lucky enough to hit their forties...
For those who haven't yet read the first post, I suggest you start there. It will make this one make more sense.
Okay. So are we on the same page now? Great.
I caught this story being circulated by the HRC yesterday and while still available, I signed their petition. It's a story about a principal who was telling students that if they were gay they were going to hell and if they were pregnant their lives were over. There is a joke in there about what if they were gay and pregnant, but I will resist because this is a serious subject.
The good news is that by the time I got around to writing this post, the principal has resigned.
But the story is not over, nor should it be, I hope.
The reason I was so outraged, in particular, about this story is that I could see my friend 20+ years ago sitting in the front row of that assembly. I could see the kids in her class using their principal's hate speech as an excuse and a reason to torment her. And if I could go back to her high school and beat up the people who harassed her then, I would. But I can't.
It is NOT enough that the principal has resigned and is no longer there. And I don't even want to know about where she might land next. I want this story to be more public so that she is notorious and no school will hire her to be in a position of influence over our youth. I don't want this to recur. Haven't we learned this from the scandals of the Catholic church who only removed a problem priest to simply place him in a new community?
It is not enough that the "The Haywood County Board of Education acknowledges its student body’s right to free speech. Further, the Haywood County Board of Education strives to provide an atmosphere of tolerance and diversity while maintaining high academic standards." The damage is done. We need to go back into that school and undo the damage.
Like when any crisis happens at a school - any form of violence, for this was emotionally violent - we need to work with the students to let them know that this was wrong.
So that when they hit their forties and finally struggle their way back out of the closet again, they won't wonder if this thing that makes them different is a cancer. And this is if they are lucky enough to hit their forties...
Zen and the Art of Temptation
Ah, our good friend temptation. While the word may only have been around since 1175-1225 (according to dictionary.com), the concept is as old as Adam and Eve.
There is an element to the concept of temptation of the forbidden. What tempts us, often, is what we should not have. Yesterday, for me, it was a Tim Horton's donut. And, instead of buying just one, I bought a half-dozen convincing myself that it was a more worthwhile deal.
In the definition provided by our friend, dictionary.com, it is not just something we shouldn't have, it is possibly evil itself.
temp·ta·tion
In fact, as we see here, Capital T Temptation refers to the temptation of Christ by Satan.
The original temptation was the Tree of Knowledge. Despite the common understanding of the snake as evil in the story, is wanting knowledge really evil? Personally, I think not, but that perhaps may be a post for another day.
But I think our understanding of that story is instead not that what is wanted is evil, but the very act of wanting something we should not have itself is what is evil.
How do we deal with temptation? How do we respond to temptation?
One way in which I know I have dealt with temptation is to rationalize that I should have the thing or person I should not have. I take away the aspect that makes it wrong.
I mean let's go back to that Tree of Knowledge. What made it wrong wasn't the tree or the fruit itself. What made it wrong was God said don't eat this. Now the rationalization would go something like this. If He didn't want us to have it, it wouldn't be there. God wouldn't create something we couldn't have. Everything God creates is beautiful and wonderful, and before you know it, I'd be eating the fruit. And perhaps, one would aptly argue, that the thinking, the rationalization, is the evil at work, and is the snake whispering in my ear. I don't know.
I have one good friend who annoys the crap out of me sometimes. Often in the context of resisting temptation, I'll say something like "I'll try". To which my non-science fiction friend will suddenly quote Yoda. "Do. Or do not. There is no try." At which point, I'm usually tempted to hang up on her, but resist that.
In thinking about that this morning, I googled Yoda's quote to get it right. And then started thinking about what he says, and how very zen like it is, and discover I'm surprisingly not the first to make that connection.
And in my browsing, I came across one site that reminded me that the essence of Buddhism is "the elimination of suffering". And in giving examples of suffering, the page stated that the desire for something that one can't have can cause suffering.
The Serenity Prayer is actually very zen-like. It asks God for acceptance of the things we cannot change.
The reality is that I could have the donut. In fact, as I already admitted above, I bought six. (Now suddenly, I'm hungry for a donut. Luckily, there are still three left... )
But Eve wasn't really hungry. She was curious, perhaps, but not hungry.
I have already written that resistance is futile. The donuts in my kitchen are an example of that.
So do we just give in to temptation whenever it arises? Regardless of the consequences?
I don't think that is the answer either. Suffering is caused by wanting the things we cannot have.
Another connection to Buddhism made by these folks who already thought this through before me was all of the references made to "clearing your mind" of your own voice or to "let go".
I think the way in which we should respond to temptation is to think of all the reasons we do not want what we think we desire. That's where the consequences come in. If Eve was able to get past that moment of curiosity and thus the desire of the Tree and really think through what that action would result in - God's wrath - would she have still wanted it?
The problem about consequences is that sometimes they are hard to see in advance. Yes, if I eat six donuts in one sitting, I can expect tummy rot. I will need to work a little harder at the gym. Although one would argue that one day of six donuts would not make me suddenly balloon out - and that little rationalization is how chronic poor choices start. No, one day won't, but repeating the pattern might. Will eating these donuts today make me eat donuts tomorrow? Who knows? Well, I do in this instance since as I mentioned there are three out there calling to me now.
When I was young, as I mentioned, I was in a long distance relationship, and it was hard. I was lonely. And there was temptation around me. Eventually, I succumbed. I am not proud of this. I was not proud of this then. I am not sure, though, that I could have made a different choice then. I was unhappy. I was lonely. I really needed to end the first relationship, but I didn't know how to or want to. I wanted it to work. Yes, I understand how starting up with someone else is not the key to a successful relationship.
If I had been able to look at all of it. If I had been able to step back and clear my mind and think through it clearly, I would have seen the following: I want to be with Person A. And I want to be with Person B. Person A is not here for me, and has not been here for me emotionally or physically in a while. I want Person A to be here for me. I can't have that. I can have Person B.
With 20-20 hindsight, I would have added one more element, I do not want to hurt Person A.
In the end I chose Person B, and I lost Person A as a result of that choice. I don't regret that consequence. I loved Person B very deeply and we had a much more viable relationship than I had with Person A.
What I do regret is that the choice I made and how I made it hurt Person A.
Now Person A and Person B are long gone and I have been in relationships since, even that one long-term one that lasted ove ra quarter of my life and ended badly. I admit that I have been tempted again by the allure of someone new while with someone old.
And what I always remember when I am is the pain that I inflicted on Person A. I have understood that when I am tempted by someone new that it is a sign that there is something I need to deal with someone old. Because someone old is important to me, I have found that I do not want someone new. In weighing what I want, I know that I do not want to cause pain and suffering to someone I love dearly.
In writing all of this out today, having not had that relationship last or be without pain, I am rethinking through even that long held conviction. It may be that by the time I am tempted it is too late. That the seeds for that pain have already been planted. Because when I was tempted at the end of my last relationship, it was already the end. It took three years for it to explode, but our relationship was over at that point.
I still wouldn't do it any differently, though. I still believe that if I am tempted by someone else, it is a sign that I need to focus on the relationship I am in. It may be, though, that what I need to do if this situaton arises again is evaluate that relationship more deeply and decide whether it is time to move on. I don't think that I spared my partner any pain by not cheating. I think I only pulled the band-aid off more slowly.
Temptation is about desire for something one should not have. Desire for something one cannot have causes suffering. Should and cannot are different words. I think the answer when confronted with temptation is to clear your mind, as the Jedis instruct, and figure out what it is that you really want. Why is this particular thing or person tempting? Do I really want a donut? Or am I looking for comfort food? Or a sugar jolt to get me through the afternoon? What is it that I really need or want? How can I satisfy that? And then, lastly, will the thing or person I desire satisfy that want or need and is it the best way to satisfy that? That examination will lead you to your heart's true desire.
Resistance is futile.
There is an element to the concept of temptation of the forbidden. What tempts us, often, is what we should not have. Yesterday, for me, it was a Tim Horton's donut. And, instead of buying just one, I bought a half-dozen convincing myself that it was a more worthwhile deal.
In the definition provided by our friend, dictionary.com, it is not just something we shouldn't have, it is possibly evil itself.
temp·ta·tion
noun
1. the act of tempting; enticement or allurement.
2. something that tempts, entices, or allures.
3. the fact or state of being tempted, especially to evil.
4. an instance of this.
5. ( initial capital letter ) the temptation of Christ by Satan. Matt. 4.
In fact, as we see here, Capital T Temptation refers to the temptation of Christ by Satan.
The original temptation was the Tree of Knowledge. Despite the common understanding of the snake as evil in the story, is wanting knowledge really evil? Personally, I think not, but that perhaps may be a post for another day.
But I think our understanding of that story is instead not that what is wanted is evil, but the very act of wanting something we should not have itself is what is evil.
How do we deal with temptation? How do we respond to temptation?
One way in which I know I have dealt with temptation is to rationalize that I should have the thing or person I should not have. I take away the aspect that makes it wrong.
I mean let's go back to that Tree of Knowledge. What made it wrong wasn't the tree or the fruit itself. What made it wrong was God said don't eat this. Now the rationalization would go something like this. If He didn't want us to have it, it wouldn't be there. God wouldn't create something we couldn't have. Everything God creates is beautiful and wonderful, and before you know it, I'd be eating the fruit. And perhaps, one would aptly argue, that the thinking, the rationalization, is the evil at work, and is the snake whispering in my ear. I don't know.
I have one good friend who annoys the crap out of me sometimes. Often in the context of resisting temptation, I'll say something like "I'll try". To which my non-science fiction friend will suddenly quote Yoda. "Do. Or do not. There is no try." At which point, I'm usually tempted to hang up on her, but resist that.
In thinking about that this morning, I googled Yoda's quote to get it right. And then started thinking about what he says, and how very zen like it is, and discover I'm surprisingly not the first to make that connection.
And in my browsing, I came across one site that reminded me that the essence of Buddhism is "the elimination of suffering". And in giving examples of suffering, the page stated that the desire for something that one can't have can cause suffering.
The Serenity Prayer is actually very zen-like. It asks God for acceptance of the things we cannot change.
The reality is that I could have the donut. In fact, as I already admitted above, I bought six. (Now suddenly, I'm hungry for a donut. Luckily, there are still three left... )
But Eve wasn't really hungry. She was curious, perhaps, but not hungry.
I have already written that resistance is futile. The donuts in my kitchen are an example of that.
So do we just give in to temptation whenever it arises? Regardless of the consequences?
I don't think that is the answer either. Suffering is caused by wanting the things we cannot have.
Another connection to Buddhism made by these folks who already thought this through before me was all of the references made to "clearing your mind" of your own voice or to "let go".
I think the way in which we should respond to temptation is to think of all the reasons we do not want what we think we desire. That's where the consequences come in. If Eve was able to get past that moment of curiosity and thus the desire of the Tree and really think through what that action would result in - God's wrath - would she have still wanted it?
The problem about consequences is that sometimes they are hard to see in advance. Yes, if I eat six donuts in one sitting, I can expect tummy rot. I will need to work a little harder at the gym. Although one would argue that one day of six donuts would not make me suddenly balloon out - and that little rationalization is how chronic poor choices start. No, one day won't, but repeating the pattern might. Will eating these donuts today make me eat donuts tomorrow? Who knows? Well, I do in this instance since as I mentioned there are three out there calling to me now.
When I was young, as I mentioned, I was in a long distance relationship, and it was hard. I was lonely. And there was temptation around me. Eventually, I succumbed. I am not proud of this. I was not proud of this then. I am not sure, though, that I could have made a different choice then. I was unhappy. I was lonely. I really needed to end the first relationship, but I didn't know how to or want to. I wanted it to work. Yes, I understand how starting up with someone else is not the key to a successful relationship.
If I had been able to look at all of it. If I had been able to step back and clear my mind and think through it clearly, I would have seen the following: I want to be with Person A. And I want to be with Person B. Person A is not here for me, and has not been here for me emotionally or physically in a while. I want Person A to be here for me. I can't have that. I can have Person B.
With 20-20 hindsight, I would have added one more element, I do not want to hurt Person A.
In the end I chose Person B, and I lost Person A as a result of that choice. I don't regret that consequence. I loved Person B very deeply and we had a much more viable relationship than I had with Person A.
What I do regret is that the choice I made and how I made it hurt Person A.
Now Person A and Person B are long gone and I have been in relationships since, even that one long-term one that lasted ove ra quarter of my life and ended badly. I admit that I have been tempted again by the allure of someone new while with someone old.
And what I always remember when I am is the pain that I inflicted on Person A. I have understood that when I am tempted by someone new that it is a sign that there is something I need to deal with someone old. Because someone old is important to me, I have found that I do not want someone new. In weighing what I want, I know that I do not want to cause pain and suffering to someone I love dearly.
In writing all of this out today, having not had that relationship last or be without pain, I am rethinking through even that long held conviction. It may be that by the time I am tempted it is too late. That the seeds for that pain have already been planted. Because when I was tempted at the end of my last relationship, it was already the end. It took three years for it to explode, but our relationship was over at that point.
I still wouldn't do it any differently, though. I still believe that if I am tempted by someone else, it is a sign that I need to focus on the relationship I am in. It may be, though, that what I need to do if this situaton arises again is evaluate that relationship more deeply and decide whether it is time to move on. I don't think that I spared my partner any pain by not cheating. I think I only pulled the band-aid off more slowly.
Temptation is about desire for something one should not have. Desire for something one cannot have causes suffering. Should and cannot are different words. I think the answer when confronted with temptation is to clear your mind, as the Jedis instruct, and figure out what it is that you really want. Why is this particular thing or person tempting? Do I really want a donut? Or am I looking for comfort food? Or a sugar jolt to get me through the afternoon? What is it that I really need or want? How can I satisfy that? And then, lastly, will the thing or person I desire satisfy that want or need and is it the best way to satisfy that? That examination will lead you to your heart's true desire.
Resistance is futile.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Success? - UPDATED
Here's a picture of the Bloggess holding twine...!!! She's not collating paper. She didn't send it to me personally, but isn't it close enough?
For now, perhaps, I'll have to take it as close enough...
UPDATED
For those of you just catching this post, earlier this week I called out the Bloggess and asked her not to be a Nater-Tater, but to be a Wil Wheaton - and as the week progressed on be a Jeri Ryan (after all, this is the Borg Blog)- and to send me a picture of her collating paper while juggling twine. .
It's been an eventful week. First I had to join Twitter. Then I discovered she favorited me, and then she decided to follow me, too.
Yesterday, I posted 14 reasons she should take a picture, and here it is.
It's been an exhausting week!
Please read more of the blog!
-----------------------------
If you like this, stick around and read other entries. Hit a few on the right that are favorites, or go to the home page of the blog, and read from beginning to end. Take a moment to send me some feedback. Thanks for coming. Please come back soon.
For now, perhaps, I'll have to take it as close enough...
UPDATED
For those of you just catching this post, earlier this week I called out the Bloggess and asked her not to be a Nater-Tater, but to be a Wil Wheaton - and as the week progressed on be a Jeri Ryan (after all, this is the Borg Blog)- and to send me a picture of her collating paper while juggling twine. .
It's been an eventful week. First I had to join Twitter. Then I discovered she favorited me, and then she decided to follow me, too.
Yesterday, I posted 14 reasons she should take a picture, and here it is.
It's been an exhausting week!
Please read more of the blog!
-----------------------------
If you like this, stick around and read other entries. Hit a few on the right that are favorites, or go to the home page of the blog, and read from beginning to end. Take a moment to send me some feedback. Thanks for coming. Please come back soon.
The right to funk...
No, there wasn't a typo there. I wrote FUNK. Get your mind out of the gutter..
In a successful relationship - whether partnership or simply even friends - I think some of the success depends upon your ability to rely upon each other. There needs to be a balance there, or one party will ultimately decide that the relationship is not worthwhile.
In an ideal world, we're not keeping a score card. I remember a friend of mine used to talk literally about deposits in the friendship bank. Frankly, that kind of scorekeeping isn't something I like.
But I admit that there has to be a balance. And when I was going through a hard time and ending (or not ending for awhile there) my long-term relationship, I made a lot of withdrawals from some friends, and for some, I over-extended my credit and lost their friendship.
True friends don't keep a deposit or withdrawal record. But we all, nonetheless, seek a balance. When it is off-balance, it becomes unhealthy.
In dissecting the demise of my long-term relationship, I can say that being off balance in that regards was certainly one stumbling block. Whether it was true or not, I felt like the one who always had to be strong, who always had to be mature. I felt that I didn't have a partner I could rely on when I needed it. That my partner was dealing with so much hard stuff that she needed me, and eventually I felt like I wasn't allowed to need her. Except I did. After a long period of imbalance, the relationship not-so-surprisingly imploded.
In relationships, there has to be a give and take. Well, for them to be successful or healthy or of value..
I'd like to think that we don't just drop someone because they are having a period where they are feeling too needy. If so, I am surprised I have any friends left. I like to think I've built up good karma or a healthy balance if we do indeed have a mystical friendship credit union.
I do think, too, that one other potential element of success is that when one person is having a crisis or meltdown, the other one has to be strong. If they both break down...? I guess the chaos that might ensue scares the hell out of me. I don't know what would happen. I've just always managed myself relatively well enough to be strong when my partner or my friend needed me to.
And perhaps what was part of the demise of my long-term relationship was that I could no longer be strong enough. I dunno..
In the last day or so - okay so most of the week, I've been greedy - I've been in a bit of a funk. A good friend of mine is my daily, hourly sounding board. We send messages back and forth all day about a variety of topics. Last night I hit a low place that wasn't particularly fun, and this morning, I woke up a little better, but still with this cloud of funk overhead.
So she writes me about her woes this morning. And me, supportive friend that I am, I cut her off immediately. Quit it, I told her, I'm having the funk, so you have to have it together.
She politely demurred. She is a good friend. I am really lucky to have her as my friend.
And then later in our morning exchange, she slightly begins to broach the topic again. From another angle this time. Perhaps hoping I won't notice.. but I do. And I realize, now, that I have emerged from the worst of it. It is time for me to be strong. So I relinquish to her the right to funk.
Because it's all about balance.
In a successful relationship - whether partnership or simply even friends - I think some of the success depends upon your ability to rely upon each other. There needs to be a balance there, or one party will ultimately decide that the relationship is not worthwhile.
In an ideal world, we're not keeping a score card. I remember a friend of mine used to talk literally about deposits in the friendship bank. Frankly, that kind of scorekeeping isn't something I like.
But I admit that there has to be a balance. And when I was going through a hard time and ending (or not ending for awhile there) my long-term relationship, I made a lot of withdrawals from some friends, and for some, I over-extended my credit and lost their friendship.
True friends don't keep a deposit or withdrawal record. But we all, nonetheless, seek a balance. When it is off-balance, it becomes unhealthy.
In dissecting the demise of my long-term relationship, I can say that being off balance in that regards was certainly one stumbling block. Whether it was true or not, I felt like the one who always had to be strong, who always had to be mature. I felt that I didn't have a partner I could rely on when I needed it. That my partner was dealing with so much hard stuff that she needed me, and eventually I felt like I wasn't allowed to need her. Except I did. After a long period of imbalance, the relationship not-so-surprisingly imploded.
In relationships, there has to be a give and take. Well, for them to be successful or healthy or of value..
I'd like to think that we don't just drop someone because they are having a period where they are feeling too needy. If so, I am surprised I have any friends left. I like to think I've built up good karma or a healthy balance if we do indeed have a mystical friendship credit union.
I do think, too, that one other potential element of success is that when one person is having a crisis or meltdown, the other one has to be strong. If they both break down...? I guess the chaos that might ensue scares the hell out of me. I don't know what would happen. I've just always managed myself relatively well enough to be strong when my partner or my friend needed me to.
And perhaps what was part of the demise of my long-term relationship was that I could no longer be strong enough. I dunno..
In the last day or so - okay so most of the week, I've been greedy - I've been in a bit of a funk. A good friend of mine is my daily, hourly sounding board. We send messages back and forth all day about a variety of topics. Last night I hit a low place that wasn't particularly fun, and this morning, I woke up a little better, but still with this cloud of funk overhead.
So she writes me about her woes this morning. And me, supportive friend that I am, I cut her off immediately. Quit it, I told her, I'm having the funk, so you have to have it together.
She politely demurred. She is a good friend. I am really lucky to have her as my friend.
And then later in our morning exchange, she slightly begins to broach the topic again. From another angle this time. Perhaps hoping I won't notice.. but I do. And I realize, now, that I have emerged from the worst of it. It is time for me to be strong. So I relinquish to her the right to funk.
Because it's all about balance.
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