I was watching the movie Imagine Me & You last night (a British film, not a big box office movie, but such a good one). Anyway, even though I've watched this movie dozens of times, something happened that often happens: I felt something click inside my head; something that speaks true (part of why I love watching all my movies over and again, because depending on my current life situation, they teach me something new).
The quote (or the part that hit me) is as follows: "We don't know, you can never be sure. . . Sure is for people who don't love enough." While the premise of the movie is about love, and about questioning who you love, I took this to mean so much more (but seriously, watch the movie anyway - so good and full of humor). I think what it means is that love is a leap of faith. If you have to wait until you're 'sure' then you don't love enough. It's hard to known things for certain and waiting until you're positive is wasting a lot of time.
After hearing it I think about my life and how the word "sure" is applicable. I always feel so uncertain about myself. The things I do, the things I say, second guessing them after they are already done, and I don't believe I've turned out to be a terrible person. Have I made mistakes? Absolutely, but I also know I've taken chances. And I also haven't taken chances. There are areas of my life where I need to risk more, instead of being afraid, instead of waiting to be sure. Of course this is easier said than done, but it I know I'll always being thinking about this quote whenever I don't take a chance. I know I'll always be kicking my own ass when I don't do something I want to do. I have to stop waiting for "sure" and just live. "Sure" is doubt, and I don't want my life to be nothing but voids filled with doubt. I want it to be full and without regret.
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Good, Decent, and Honest
Nature has shown us that animals who posses the flashiest of their spieces' characteristics are the ones who get the best and often first choice of mates. We've all heard of the term 'peacocking' which refers to wearing ridiculous get-ups to attract the attention of women, mimicked of course from the peacocks who try to impress peahens by fanning out their tails which are colorful and full. Naturally, the male with the best tail gets the best mates.
How does this translate into today's culture? It's exactly the same. Biological impulses program humans to be attracted to the most physically fit males because they are perceived as good providers, in another word, hunters. The same impulses make women with wider hips, bigger breasts, and an overall healthy look more attractive because nature is saying these are the women who are best fit for child bearing. Typically to go with this, these people are exceptionally attractive. Nature shows the one who is most attractive (symmetrical) often rises to the top, which is why it is natural to see attractive people as couples.
(Complete side note, but my theory on couples is as follows: if, on a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being not all attractive and 10 being the most attractive, people will normally date or couple within a two number range of their own attraction number. So, if for example, someone is an eight, he or she may date someone who is an eight, seven, or nine. Have you ever looked at couples and thought, "wow, they almost look alike?" I see it all the time, and I think as couples get older together, they tend to continue to look more like the other. Very rarely do we see someone who is an eight coupled with someone who is a three. I suppose you could argue this is nature taking it's course).
Maybe it's just my experience, but usually how it works it, is the people who know they're attractive, trend toward being more selfish, self-involved, entitled, and a whole myriad of related terms because nature dictates they can hold out for the best because their 'peacock tail' always wins for them. Unfortunately, in my life and the lives of my friends and family, the peacocks with the flashiest of the flashiest tails are the ones who are selfish and mean. They leave a lot of disappointment when they show their true colors. I've been reminded a lot lately (indirectly) of how often these people show up, of how many there actually are. It also reminds me of how important it is to fill up my life with good, decent, and honest people and to strive to be a good, decent, and honest person.
As for me, I'm not looking for the flashiest mate. I'm looking for the honest one. The one who may back out of a fight, not because of cowardice, but for a purpose much greater and more meaningful than showing off his strength. Sometimes, a good person needs to be everything.
Whether you're in a relationship or not, try to find honest people, boyfriends, girlfriends, friends in general to surround yourself with. Life becomes so much for fulfilling.
How does this translate into today's culture? It's exactly the same. Biological impulses program humans to be attracted to the most physically fit males because they are perceived as good providers, in another word, hunters. The same impulses make women with wider hips, bigger breasts, and an overall healthy look more attractive because nature is saying these are the women who are best fit for child bearing. Typically to go with this, these people are exceptionally attractive. Nature shows the one who is most attractive (symmetrical) often rises to the top, which is why it is natural to see attractive people as couples.
(Complete side note, but my theory on couples is as follows: if, on a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being not all attractive and 10 being the most attractive, people will normally date or couple within a two number range of their own attraction number. So, if for example, someone is an eight, he or she may date someone who is an eight, seven, or nine. Have you ever looked at couples and thought, "wow, they almost look alike?" I see it all the time, and I think as couples get older together, they tend to continue to look more like the other. Very rarely do we see someone who is an eight coupled with someone who is a three. I suppose you could argue this is nature taking it's course).
Maybe it's just my experience, but usually how it works it, is the people who know they're attractive, trend toward being more selfish, self-involved, entitled, and a whole myriad of related terms because nature dictates they can hold out for the best because their 'peacock tail' always wins for them. Unfortunately, in my life and the lives of my friends and family, the peacocks with the flashiest of the flashiest tails are the ones who are selfish and mean. They leave a lot of disappointment when they show their true colors. I've been reminded a lot lately (indirectly) of how often these people show up, of how many there actually are. It also reminds me of how important it is to fill up my life with good, decent, and honest people and to strive to be a good, decent, and honest person.
As for me, I'm not looking for the flashiest mate. I'm looking for the honest one. The one who may back out of a fight, not because of cowardice, but for a purpose much greater and more meaningful than showing off his strength. Sometimes, a good person needs to be everything.
Whether you're in a relationship or not, try to find honest people, boyfriends, girlfriends, friends in general to surround yourself with. Life becomes so much for fulfilling.
Monday, November 26, 2012
Is It Irony?
Two posts ago I stated that on my days off I would sit down and write something for one hour. Not really that much of a commitment, because the truth is, everyone easily wastes more than one hour a day by trying to justify and avoid doing something they should be getting on with (going to the gym for example).
Ironically (or maybe it's not actually irony but the universe taking 'pity' on me), every day I've had off since that post other things that needed to get done have kept cropping up. It's bizarre.
Not that there's much point to this or even a moral, but this is the first day I've had off with far fewer things to do and may actually get some writing done.
Ironically (or maybe it's not actually irony but the universe taking 'pity' on me), every day I've had off since that post other things that needed to get done have kept cropping up. It's bizarre.
Not that there's much point to this or even a moral, but this is the first day I've had off with far fewer things to do and may actually get some writing done.
Saturday, November 17, 2012
An Early Night
I live in the north part of the Midwest, so by the time summer has faded away into nothing but good ol' summer memories that'll be reflected upon when thinking about a time that was completely care free, the sun goes down by work day's end, which means winter is quickly approaching, bringing with it cold winds and icy roads. Many people like to complain about the winter months, myself included, on occasion, but there is something magical about the sun going to bed early; I live in a fairly small town, so as soon as Halloween is over, Christmas wreaths, lights, bows, and other decorations are on every business front and most of the cities' houses. The lights come on at the first hint of dark, lighting the town aglow giving it the appeal of a ginger bread house.
While I do not enjoy the tedious task of shoveling, I even like the snow: my particular favorite is when the flakes are big, clumpy, and dry, and fall swirling through the wind to the ground, so when I look up at the sky, I feel like I'm in the middle of a snow globe. It helps me feel alone in the depths of the sky - it helps me connect with all of myself, when I feel like I have and unending to eternity to fall into. I love the early nights of winter. Winter can get long and a bit lonely, but I find it peaceful as well. I find the poetry of the seasons to be reflected in their realities. Winter is a time when things have died and gone to sleep. Everyone talks about how death is a tragedy for the living but it is peaceful for the dead. Not that I believe myself to be dead during the colder months of the year, but it is a nice time to reflect and slow down.
I don't know why this is important for me to share, but I think it's because I see people forget to appreciate the beauty of the things we have around us. I acknowledge there are downsides to everything as well, but the negativity is easy to give into. So no matter where you live or the weather you experience, try to find some beauty to appreciate and connect with yourself.
While I do not enjoy the tedious task of shoveling, I even like the snow: my particular favorite is when the flakes are big, clumpy, and dry, and fall swirling through the wind to the ground, so when I look up at the sky, I feel like I'm in the middle of a snow globe. It helps me feel alone in the depths of the sky - it helps me connect with all of myself, when I feel like I have and unending to eternity to fall into. I love the early nights of winter. Winter can get long and a bit lonely, but I find it peaceful as well. I find the poetry of the seasons to be reflected in their realities. Winter is a time when things have died and gone to sleep. Everyone talks about how death is a tragedy for the living but it is peaceful for the dead. Not that I believe myself to be dead during the colder months of the year, but it is a nice time to reflect and slow down.
I don't know why this is important for me to share, but I think it's because I see people forget to appreciate the beauty of the things we have around us. I acknowledge there are downsides to everything as well, but the negativity is easy to give into. So no matter where you live or the weather you experience, try to find some beauty to appreciate and connect with yourself.
Saturday, November 10, 2012
A Lack of Perfection
In my last post I (unknowing I was going to do it when I started writing) talked about how I carry around this guilt and negativity, which I've also come to realize is a fear. A fear of being hurt, of being let down, and a fear of not being good enough (this is hard to admit).
I am a person of avid interests including photography, but what I would really like to do with my life is become a published author. I don't expect that I would ever become J.K. Rowling or Stephen King or Jane Austen, but I would like to at least get one book published in my life.
Since I can't find a job where I can be utilizing my degree and I'm stuck at the job I had during all of college, when I get days off, I don't really feel all that accomplished with myself. And while I have all these stories running around in my head, I have only written bits and pieces, if anything of any of my stories. And while yes, my drive is to be an author, I am so scared of even writing anything, because what if they're terrible? What if no one wants to publish them? Or perhaps worse of all, would never want to read them?
It's funny that my post the other day turned into a admission of my guilty negativity, because my mom started talking to me today about my writing, and I sort of admitted about how I don't feel like I'm doing much and should be. So she asked me why I wasn't writing and I told her what my fears are. And she told me that she and her three sisters (they have no brothers) all carry the same guilt of not being good enough, just like their mother. She gave me something to think about too - she told me, that if I really want to write, even if it doesn't turn out to be good, and without making obscene promises to myself, like I'll write six hours everyday I don't work, that I'll take the time to write for one hour. She made the good point that I'll waste an hour doing nothing on my days off, so I may as well write.
So, from this day onward, when I am able, on my days off, I am promising myself to sit down and write for one hour until I finish one book, even if it turns out to be an absolute lack of perfection. Even if it's shit and never becomes published, I can write and write and write, and maybe one day I'll actually create something that would be worthy of the world reading.
I am a person of avid interests including photography, but what I would really like to do with my life is become a published author. I don't expect that I would ever become J.K. Rowling or Stephen King or Jane Austen, but I would like to at least get one book published in my life.
Since I can't find a job where I can be utilizing my degree and I'm stuck at the job I had during all of college, when I get days off, I don't really feel all that accomplished with myself. And while I have all these stories running around in my head, I have only written bits and pieces, if anything of any of my stories. And while yes, my drive is to be an author, I am so scared of even writing anything, because what if they're terrible? What if no one wants to publish them? Or perhaps worse of all, would never want to read them?
It's funny that my post the other day turned into a admission of my guilty negativity, because my mom started talking to me today about my writing, and I sort of admitted about how I don't feel like I'm doing much and should be. So she asked me why I wasn't writing and I told her what my fears are. And she told me that she and her three sisters (they have no brothers) all carry the same guilt of not being good enough, just like their mother. She gave me something to think about too - she told me, that if I really want to write, even if it doesn't turn out to be good, and without making obscene promises to myself, like I'll write six hours everyday I don't work, that I'll take the time to write for one hour. She made the good point that I'll waste an hour doing nothing on my days off, so I may as well write.
So, from this day onward, when I am able, on my days off, I am promising myself to sit down and write for one hour until I finish one book, even if it turns out to be an absolute lack of perfection. Even if it's shit and never becomes published, I can write and write and write, and maybe one day I'll actually create something that would be worthy of the world reading.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Compromise
I'm not really sure what I want to write about today. I just feel as if it's a good day to put something out into the universe.
I know I've mentioned several times on this blog that trying to figure out my future. Trying to decide how to not end up feeling I've 'settled' with my life, but also where I feel as though I've lived fully. Since my last post about two weeks ago, some things have slowly started to solidify in my brain and heart about my life. I can have both through compromise. I may only get half of each life I desire, but I see it as two halves making a whole. I'm not sure yet which halves are coming my way, but I'm going to try to compromise for both.
I know I don't talk much about love or relationships, mostly because I'm not exactly all that good in them (romantic ones). Logically, I have no problems, but it's the emotional aspect of it.
Sort of a side note, I carry this weird guilty negativity within myself (my grandmother is a really good guilty Catholic, and I know it's not genetic, but so far I haven't found another explanation for it). I tend to focus on every bad thing I think I've done to someone, while they completely forget about it (because realistically it's nothing terrible - just typical human behavior). I continually beat myself up feeling as if things are all my fault if something bad or wrong happens with a friend or team. This guilt is part of why I was never big on being on team sports in school because I know I would always feel as losing would be because of a mistake I made.
So I always find myself surprised when people want to spend time with me and get to know me. It's a difficult thing for me to say to myself "you deserve this, you are allowed to not beat yourself up and that you're worth it." I have been realizing this negativity and guilt has been inhibiting my heart. It's difficult for me to open up with people. It's hard for me to depend on others, because I've always made myself a one person team. I've always taken care of myself, because not only am I afraid of letting down others, I'm afraid of being let down. My fear of being let down is problematic because it's upsetting and frustrating, but then I feel guilty over being angry.
I've been putting hours and weeks into thinking about my future and realizing I can be happy through compromise, and while doing so I've realized there is no compromise for my heart. I can't be guarded and negative and full of ridiculous 'guilt' because it will stop me from being happy in love. And it sounds silly, but love is important. Love inspires and heals and makes us better. I don't think it's an accident either that love requires a person to open up and depend on another. Yes, it can end up hurting you, but everything you get out of being loved and loving, is something you can't compromise. Love makes a person better. Love means going forward and accepting, not only someone else, but yourself.
Do not compromise your heart for your brain. Always love and be willing to love.
I know I've mentioned several times on this blog that trying to figure out my future. Trying to decide how to not end up feeling I've 'settled' with my life, but also where I feel as though I've lived fully. Since my last post about two weeks ago, some things have slowly started to solidify in my brain and heart about my life. I can have both through compromise. I may only get half of each life I desire, but I see it as two halves making a whole. I'm not sure yet which halves are coming my way, but I'm going to try to compromise for both.
I know I don't talk much about love or relationships, mostly because I'm not exactly all that good in them (romantic ones). Logically, I have no problems, but it's the emotional aspect of it.
Sort of a side note, I carry this weird guilty negativity within myself (my grandmother is a really good guilty Catholic, and I know it's not genetic, but so far I haven't found another explanation for it). I tend to focus on every bad thing I think I've done to someone, while they completely forget about it (because realistically it's nothing terrible - just typical human behavior). I continually beat myself up feeling as if things are all my fault if something bad or wrong happens with a friend or team. This guilt is part of why I was never big on being on team sports in school because I know I would always feel as losing would be because of a mistake I made.
So I always find myself surprised when people want to spend time with me and get to know me. It's a difficult thing for me to say to myself "you deserve this, you are allowed to not beat yourself up and that you're worth it." I have been realizing this negativity and guilt has been inhibiting my heart. It's difficult for me to open up with people. It's hard for me to depend on others, because I've always made myself a one person team. I've always taken care of myself, because not only am I afraid of letting down others, I'm afraid of being let down. My fear of being let down is problematic because it's upsetting and frustrating, but then I feel guilty over being angry.
I've been putting hours and weeks into thinking about my future and realizing I can be happy through compromise, and while doing so I've realized there is no compromise for my heart. I can't be guarded and negative and full of ridiculous 'guilt' because it will stop me from being happy in love. And it sounds silly, but love is important. Love inspires and heals and makes us better. I don't think it's an accident either that love requires a person to open up and depend on another. Yes, it can end up hurting you, but everything you get out of being loved and loving, is something you can't compromise. Love makes a person better. Love means going forward and accepting, not only someone else, but yourself.
Do not compromise your heart for your brain. Always love and be willing to love.
Friday, October 26, 2012
Love and Betrayal
I have no big lead up today. I have no point. The only thing I want this post to be about is the question I pose. Here it is:
Is it old fashion of me to think that if you're going to say "I love you" to someone that it's too much of a stretch for those simple words to mean, "I commit myself to you. You are not only enough for me, but everything for me?" Why is it today that promising yourself to a single other person, who is the part of you that is missing, is so difficult? Is it because you feel like you're boring because the fleeting thrill of the initial attraction is gone and not what makes you a complete couple anymore? Because something about being an adult (and you better be an adult if you're going to commit to someone) isn't as fun? What is so wrong with really loving someone else?
I hate the word 'cheating.' To me, cheating means your eyes slide and look at your neighbors test so you can gain a better score. Cheating in a relationship only loses you something. Twice now, in my life, I have been involved in cases of cheating (not as one of the two in the couple, but very closely related) and the effects and devastation and heartbreak from this betrayal (and I prefer the word 'betraly' because that's more accurately what it is). Why betray the person you are suppose to love? The person you commit and promise yourself to?
I have to sit and watch how it tears people apart - people who have been betrayed and those who were the betrayer. Especially when it was just a big, horrible, stupid mistake. Why even bother doing it, because it cancels out all of the wonderful times from the past and steals away the happy times that were planned for the future.
It all just makes me sick. It breaks my heart every time I think about it. And there's nothing I can do.
Is it old fashion of me to think that if you're going to say "I love you" to someone that it's too much of a stretch for those simple words to mean, "I commit myself to you. You are not only enough for me, but everything for me?" Why is it today that promising yourself to a single other person, who is the part of you that is missing, is so difficult? Is it because you feel like you're boring because the fleeting thrill of the initial attraction is gone and not what makes you a complete couple anymore? Because something about being an adult (and you better be an adult if you're going to commit to someone) isn't as fun? What is so wrong with really loving someone else?
I hate the word 'cheating.' To me, cheating means your eyes slide and look at your neighbors test so you can gain a better score. Cheating in a relationship only loses you something. Twice now, in my life, I have been involved in cases of cheating (not as one of the two in the couple, but very closely related) and the effects and devastation and heartbreak from this betrayal (and I prefer the word 'betraly' because that's more accurately what it is). Why betray the person you are suppose to love? The person you commit and promise yourself to?
I have to sit and watch how it tears people apart - people who have been betrayed and those who were the betrayer. Especially when it was just a big, horrible, stupid mistake. Why even bother doing it, because it cancels out all of the wonderful times from the past and steals away the happy times that were planned for the future.
It all just makes me sick. It breaks my heart every time I think about it. And there's nothing I can do.
Saturday, October 13, 2012
Definitive
I don't know if I've mentioned previously in this blog or not, but I'm really big into photography. I love taking photos and looking for different perspectives and new ways to look at things. I nearly went to school for photography, but for too many complicated reasons to list, I didn't. I know the tendency of people to consider themselves a professional (or at least really good) in something they take on as a hobby when they're really not that good or simply mediocer, taking photos happens to be one of the few things I'm really good at. Even before I realized I was good, I had friends and family telling me that I was. It took me a bit to start paying attention to them to realize this is something I not only enjoy doing, but I also happen to be good at (the difference between enjoying and being good at something is like my singing - I like doing it, but I'm never going to win American Idol).
Ok, so what does all this have to do with anything? Since I've been back from Europe (a whole chronicle at www.stephislostonpurpose.blogspot.com ) I've felt a little bored. I've been job hunting for something to use my degree in, but there's nothing, and that whole 'stalled' thing comes into play again. There's not much for me to do when I'm not working, so I've decided to sort of pursue my 'photography.' Normally what I shoot are really close up photos (uncomfortably close photos is what I call them when I get really close to a person), but I do occasionally shoot what I call 'character studies.' Where it's not a portrait or a landscape, but simply a unique image.
I'm getting to my point really quick now (I just needed to explain a bit about what and how I do things so there's some understanding in some of the photos I'll put up).
The other day, I went to a local graveyard to do a shoot (I know it sounds creepy, but I really like graveyards. I find them peaceful places). Anyway, as I was doing my shoot, and reading the names on all the gravestones, I found myself thinking about the lives these people lived. The sorrows they suffered (plenty of infants were buried there), the happiness, and everything else in between. I realized all of these people were dead. There's nothing left of them except maybe some descendants, and a name and a date carved into stone. It made me realize that nothing we do in this life matters after we die. I'm not saying that we shouldn't strive to be good people, but the embarrassments we feel, the uncertainties that hinder us, don't end up mattering. So if you're afraid to ask someone out, when you're buried and 100 years later someone is walking on your grave, that doesn't matter any more. If you're afraid of taking a risk because you're not sure how it'll turn out, it doesn't matter. Death is final in so many ways. We need to live kindly and with love to have full lives, but everything else doesn't matter. Our end is absolute. Our deaths are definitive. But our uncertainties are nothing more than the grip of death choking us out long before it is our time to go.
Living fully is hard to do. And it took walking through a graveyard and thinking about the people who are already gone to help me come to the conclusion to do so. Death is final, but a life can be just as definitive.
Ok, so what does all this have to do with anything? Since I've been back from Europe (a whole chronicle at www.stephislostonpurpose.blogspot.com ) I've felt a little bored. I've been job hunting for something to use my degree in, but there's nothing, and that whole 'stalled' thing comes into play again. There's not much for me to do when I'm not working, so I've decided to sort of pursue my 'photography.' Normally what I shoot are really close up photos (uncomfortably close photos is what I call them when I get really close to a person), but I do occasionally shoot what I call 'character studies.' Where it's not a portrait or a landscape, but simply a unique image.
I'm getting to my point really quick now (I just needed to explain a bit about what and how I do things so there's some understanding in some of the photos I'll put up).
The other day, I went to a local graveyard to do a shoot (I know it sounds creepy, but I really like graveyards. I find them peaceful places). Anyway, as I was doing my shoot, and reading the names on all the gravestones, I found myself thinking about the lives these people lived. The sorrows they suffered (plenty of infants were buried there), the happiness, and everything else in between. I realized all of these people were dead. There's nothing left of them except maybe some descendants, and a name and a date carved into stone. It made me realize that nothing we do in this life matters after we die. I'm not saying that we shouldn't strive to be good people, but the embarrassments we feel, the uncertainties that hinder us, don't end up mattering. So if you're afraid to ask someone out, when you're buried and 100 years later someone is walking on your grave, that doesn't matter any more. If you're afraid of taking a risk because you're not sure how it'll turn out, it doesn't matter. Death is final in so many ways. We need to live kindly and with love to have full lives, but everything else doesn't matter. Our end is absolute. Our deaths are definitive. But our uncertainties are nothing more than the grip of death choking us out long before it is our time to go.
Living fully is hard to do. And it took walking through a graveyard and thinking about the people who are already gone to help me come to the conclusion to do so. Death is final, but a life can be just as definitive.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Decisions
Lately I've been feeling there is more I should be doing with my life. Things I should do because eventually the opportunities to do so will have come and gone.
I'm thinking about going to South Korea to teach English for a year. I won't make any final decisions until about one year from now. I want make absolutely positive it's what I want to do. If I'm right, doing so would not only let me experience life in a completely different culture, but allow me to pay off all of my student loans and come back with a clean slate. Also, after my year was up, I think with just a small amount of my left over money, I'd live in India for a couple of months. As a whole the idea, sounds grand, but as I know from a 5 week backpacking journey around Europe, I'd miss home and the people I know, I'd miss events in the peoples' whose lives I cherish.
As my mom always tells me, "You can have anything you want; you can't have everything you want."
I wish someone could tell me what I want the most. What would be worth more to me. Decisions are so hard when it means giving up and compromising a piece of yourself no matter what you choose.
I'm thinking about going to South Korea to teach English for a year. I won't make any final decisions until about one year from now. I want make absolutely positive it's what I want to do. If I'm right, doing so would not only let me experience life in a completely different culture, but allow me to pay off all of my student loans and come back with a clean slate. Also, after my year was up, I think with just a small amount of my left over money, I'd live in India for a couple of months. As a whole the idea, sounds grand, but as I know from a 5 week backpacking journey around Europe, I'd miss home and the people I know, I'd miss events in the peoples' whose lives I cherish.
As my mom always tells me, "You can have anything you want; you can't have everything you want."
I wish someone could tell me what I want the most. What would be worth more to me. Decisions are so hard when it means giving up and compromising a piece of yourself no matter what you choose.
Monday, September 17, 2012
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Wanting
Do you ever find that what you think you want, compared to what you end up getting, is never as great? That most of the time the gift of an unexpected ending is far better than the one you imagined for yourself? Even in times where you feel you've been cheated in the most immediate moment, but somewhere down the road, you have not only hit the smooth proverbial pavement, free of speed bumps, but your car has also transformed from a broken down 1987 Crown Victoria into a classic 1968 mint condition Mustang, the driving weather's perfect, you play soft rock from the radio completely commercial free, and now you have all the time in the world to cruise to your destination on top of the luxurious travelling style?
Wanting is good . . . it helps to teach us that what we can plan for ourselves is never so much better than what we end up getting.
Wanting is good . . . it helps to teach us that what we can plan for ourselves is never so much better than what we end up getting.
Saturday, September 1, 2012
What?
What? This seems to be the question constantly pounding on my brain these days. If the the word 'what' and the punctuation 'question mark' where a tangible thing, it'd be a little man with a mallet swinging away at the gray matter that composes my brain.
I'm struggling with life at the moment. It isn't that I expect to ever have a time where making choices and feeling a bit lost, but as I've mentioned in a previous post, I feel stalled. And I've realized it's not so much that things just aren't happening for me, so much as I don't know what I want.
What do I want? The 'American Dream' image flashes through my head: a white picket fence, a dog, husband, house, children, block parties, a family Sudan, and everything that particular package entails. Or the adventurous life style: A rucksack and battered clothing, little money, but worldliness and thrilling adventures to share when coming home to family. Or the solitary lifestyle: a dead end job, one bedroom apart meant, a cat, and late night television. In the story telling world there are only seven basic story plots. Hundreds of years and hundreds of thousands of good writers have managed to create fabulous adventures, but at the core nearly story is identical. A difference in names, made-up places, conflicts, and loves only manages to re-create an already written story. There is a certain construction to writing a story, otherwise it doesn't count as a story. It doesn't mean a love story like Pride and Prejudice is any less romantic than Twilight because it's older or that (in some people peoples' opinion) is better. They can both be equally romantic.
My point, is I think a person's life is nothing more than a re-written story. I think there are only so many lives able to be lived, and my problem is choosing which one is for me. What do I pick? The classic grow-up, go to school, get a job, get married, have kids, get a dog or the free-spirit, travel the world, and see a lot of culture version of life?
I guess my fear with ultimately choosing one version of life over another is regret I know I would feel having not chosen a different one. My problem though, is I want pieces of both. I know there are friends and family who would tell me I can have both and make the best of it, but I once heard this piece wisdom and it resounds throughout my head every time I start thinking about my future; it goes like this: "You can have anything you want. You just can't have everything you want." And my problem is I believe that. It is not possible, in life, to get absolutely everything your heart desires.
I know I want a family. But I also want to see the world. I want to be in love. But I also want to be free. But in all cases, one doesn't usually come with the other. Something has to be sacrificed. I just don't know what my heart's willing to give up. What is the right choice?
And maybe there is an unwritten story. Maybe there is one more plot that hasn't been discovered that would work out well for me. I find it funny, most people go through life hoping to always be right. I'm always hoping to be wrong.
I'm struggling with life at the moment. It isn't that I expect to ever have a time where making choices and feeling a bit lost, but as I've mentioned in a previous post, I feel stalled. And I've realized it's not so much that things just aren't happening for me, so much as I don't know what I want.
What do I want? The 'American Dream' image flashes through my head: a white picket fence, a dog, husband, house, children, block parties, a family Sudan, and everything that particular package entails. Or the adventurous life style: A rucksack and battered clothing, little money, but worldliness and thrilling adventures to share when coming home to family. Or the solitary lifestyle: a dead end job, one bedroom apart meant, a cat, and late night television. In the story telling world there are only seven basic story plots. Hundreds of years and hundreds of thousands of good writers have managed to create fabulous adventures, but at the core nearly story is identical. A difference in names, made-up places, conflicts, and loves only manages to re-create an already written story. There is a certain construction to writing a story, otherwise it doesn't count as a story. It doesn't mean a love story like Pride and Prejudice is any less romantic than Twilight because it's older or that (in some people peoples' opinion) is better. They can both be equally romantic.
My point, is I think a person's life is nothing more than a re-written story. I think there are only so many lives able to be lived, and my problem is choosing which one is for me. What do I pick? The classic grow-up, go to school, get a job, get married, have kids, get a dog or the free-spirit, travel the world, and see a lot of culture version of life?
I guess my fear with ultimately choosing one version of life over another is regret I know I would feel having not chosen a different one. My problem though, is I want pieces of both. I know there are friends and family who would tell me I can have both and make the best of it, but I once heard this piece wisdom and it resounds throughout my head every time I start thinking about my future; it goes like this: "You can have anything you want. You just can't have everything you want." And my problem is I believe that. It is not possible, in life, to get absolutely everything your heart desires.
I know I want a family. But I also want to see the world. I want to be in love. But I also want to be free. But in all cases, one doesn't usually come with the other. Something has to be sacrificed. I just don't know what my heart's willing to give up. What is the right choice?
And maybe there is an unwritten story. Maybe there is one more plot that hasn't been discovered that would work out well for me. I find it funny, most people go through life hoping to always be right. I'm always hoping to be wrong.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Smelling Memories
I noticed this morning, while reading my book in front of the open window, that the summer's air smells a bit different now. At the start of summer it always seems to carry the scent of sun screen, heat, grills, and mowed lawns. The earthy smell of spring has gone because snow leftover from winter is no longer melting into the ground giving off the damp smell of the earth.
Now, the air smells more like the ground again due to cooler nights, the occasionally mowed lawn, and less like sunscreen and more like a freshly opened pack of loose leaf paper. The spice of autumn is not present yet, but the promise of change is in the air as well.
It is said that smell, out of all of the five senses, is the one to trigger memory in the strongest way. I will say I agree. As I caught of whiff of the air a bunch of emotions and memories came rushing to the front of my brain. I remember going school supplies shopping with my mom and siblings toward the end of August every year: the smell of crisp new notebooks, fresh rubber from a brand new pair of sneakers, and the feel of never worn before cotton t-shirts.
How can I describe years of memories of anticipation for school to start (though usually by Christmas break I'd be ready for the year to be over)? The disappointment summer is over and staying out way after dark is no longer possible? The putting away of swim suits and getting out the old comfortable sweatshirts that I'd curl up in on a cool rainy day while watching favorite classic movies like The Sound of Music and The Wizard of Oz?
Though it is still summer I can smell my memories on the edge of the wind. The promise of change, but also the promise of something familiar and comforting. I must admit however, this year, autumn will be a little bitter sweet for me. It's the first fall, since I was five years old, I will not be going to school. I graduated college last December and do not have any more schooling (at least at this point). Spring wasn't even difficult because I was getting ready to go to Europe, but stores now have discounts on school supplies and back packs, and I see little kids with eagerness on their faces and they pick out the folders they want for each class, and can not help but feel a bit sad. I already miss campus. It was always beautiful in the fall.
No matter how sad I may be by this simple change, I am also glad for it. It gives me something new to create a memory. I'm not sure what I'll look forward to in the coming years when I smell the changing breeze, but I hope it's something pleasant, even if it ends up being bitter sweet.
Now, the air smells more like the ground again due to cooler nights, the occasionally mowed lawn, and less like sunscreen and more like a freshly opened pack of loose leaf paper. The spice of autumn is not present yet, but the promise of change is in the air as well.
It is said that smell, out of all of the five senses, is the one to trigger memory in the strongest way. I will say I agree. As I caught of whiff of the air a bunch of emotions and memories came rushing to the front of my brain. I remember going school supplies shopping with my mom and siblings toward the end of August every year: the smell of crisp new notebooks, fresh rubber from a brand new pair of sneakers, and the feel of never worn before cotton t-shirts.
How can I describe years of memories of anticipation for school to start (though usually by Christmas break I'd be ready for the year to be over)? The disappointment summer is over and staying out way after dark is no longer possible? The putting away of swim suits and getting out the old comfortable sweatshirts that I'd curl up in on a cool rainy day while watching favorite classic movies like The Sound of Music and The Wizard of Oz?
Though it is still summer I can smell my memories on the edge of the wind. The promise of change, but also the promise of something familiar and comforting. I must admit however, this year, autumn will be a little bitter sweet for me. It's the first fall, since I was five years old, I will not be going to school. I graduated college last December and do not have any more schooling (at least at this point). Spring wasn't even difficult because I was getting ready to go to Europe, but stores now have discounts on school supplies and back packs, and I see little kids with eagerness on their faces and they pick out the folders they want for each class, and can not help but feel a bit sad. I already miss campus. It was always beautiful in the fall.
No matter how sad I may be by this simple change, I am also glad for it. It gives me something new to create a memory. I'm not sure what I'll look forward to in the coming years when I smell the changing breeze, but I hope it's something pleasant, even if it ends up being bitter sweet.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Limits
What limits us?
Fear? Indecision? Or just a part of who we are? When the time to act is upon us and we do nothing, how is it we can reasonably justify our idleness? In a world where things are already complicated enough, do we excuse our lack of action with a series of convoluted half-truths, so we don't have to feel bad about the things we do not do?
So here is my question: is anything actually complicated, or do we just make it complicated because it's easier than owning up to the truth? When I think about everything I do that requires action and decision, the out-come, no matter the situation, is never as terrifying or uncomfortable as I've imagined; with that, sometimes the out-come is quite pleasant. And typically after I've "acted" or "decided" I feel better. Like an internal Feng Shui.
So why are there times when I still do not act? Why do I limit myself? It's no good for me: I brood on the chances I do not take, I envy those who do what I do not, and when I'm unhappy because this, I become angry at myself, because I am the source of my own unhappiness. Yet, despite all this, I still do not act.
What limits us when we know the only barrier between moving forward and being left behind is ourself?
Fear? Indecision? Or just a part of who we are? When the time to act is upon us and we do nothing, how is it we can reasonably justify our idleness? In a world where things are already complicated enough, do we excuse our lack of action with a series of convoluted half-truths, so we don't have to feel bad about the things we do not do?
So here is my question: is anything actually complicated, or do we just make it complicated because it's easier than owning up to the truth? When I think about everything I do that requires action and decision, the out-come, no matter the situation, is never as terrifying or uncomfortable as I've imagined; with that, sometimes the out-come is quite pleasant. And typically after I've "acted" or "decided" I feel better. Like an internal Feng Shui.
So why are there times when I still do not act? Why do I limit myself? It's no good for me: I brood on the chances I do not take, I envy those who do what I do not, and when I'm unhappy because this, I become angry at myself, because I am the source of my own unhappiness. Yet, despite all this, I still do not act.
What limits us when we know the only barrier between moving forward and being left behind is ourself?
Thursday, July 26, 2012
A Cliff Top
I find myself in a current situation where I'm watching someone I love and care about very much about to make some serious bad decisions. Unfortunately, this is not a case where I can address the issue head on because it would seem like an attack (no one likes unsolicited advice about personal/family matters). And I can't go to someone else and have them speak with this person - it would be the 'behind my back' attack.
I can't go into much more detail but this is a case where there is no answer, no solution to this problem. I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't. I know even if I didn't lose this person by saying something, an irreparable rift would form and always be between us. I know too, if I don't say anything, I am going to watch my friend have their heart broken. Maybe not tomorrow or a year from now, but sometime in the coming years, it will happen. My only consolation is the support I'll be able to offer then. But, as a person of action, I know that this could potentially be avoided by saying something now. I won't feel good when these eventual years roll around and the best I can do is say "I saw this coming."
I'm standing on top of a cliff, watching my dear friend running toward the ledge for the opportunity of a lifetime, and if I stop them, they'll never get another chance; I also don't know if there's a ledge they'll land on just five feet down.
The impossible situation is always the hardest because there is no good answer. There are choices but no choice is really better than the other. So is the choice to make the one that causes the least amount of damage? And is damage relative? Do I get to say what is the worst form? I don't know.
I guess for now, because I know that saying something will not create any change, I'm going to stand by and watch, (and hope) there is a soft landing just over the edge that I am not able to see.
I can't go into much more detail but this is a case where there is no answer, no solution to this problem. I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't. I know even if I didn't lose this person by saying something, an irreparable rift would form and always be between us. I know too, if I don't say anything, I am going to watch my friend have their heart broken. Maybe not tomorrow or a year from now, but sometime in the coming years, it will happen. My only consolation is the support I'll be able to offer then. But, as a person of action, I know that this could potentially be avoided by saying something now. I won't feel good when these eventual years roll around and the best I can do is say "I saw this coming."
I'm standing on top of a cliff, watching my dear friend running toward the ledge for the opportunity of a lifetime, and if I stop them, they'll never get another chance; I also don't know if there's a ledge they'll land on just five feet down.
The impossible situation is always the hardest because there is no good answer. There are choices but no choice is really better than the other. So is the choice to make the one that causes the least amount of damage? And is damage relative? Do I get to say what is the worst form? I don't know.
I guess for now, because I know that saying something will not create any change, I'm going to stand by and watch, (and hope) there is a soft landing just over the edge that I am not able to see.
Monday, July 23, 2012
Missing Pages
Lately life has been feeling 'stalled' for me. I look around and see my friends and family all moving forward with their lives and can't help but feel stuck. I'm stuck at my college job because I can't get hired anywhere else (who can with this economy?), no serious relationship, and I mostly spend my nights at home. And really, that's all I want to do after waiting on several hundred people a day. And that is the catch 22 in this twisted vicious circle of 'not having a life.'
The other problem I find myself facing is "what do I want?" While I look at my friends and family I see them happy and doing the -- normal, for lack of a better word -- progression: relationship, moving in, marriage, family, jobs, ect. And there's nothing wrong with this, and they're happy. But I don't know if that's how I want to do it. I know I will want a family and love, but I feel strange for not feeling much interest in it now. And inevitably since my older sister and younger brother are both committed I frequently face the question of "So are you seeing anyone? How's the job hunt going? Are you moving soon?" And every time I get these questions get that feeling of being stalled. Because the truth is I am stalled.
Have you ever read a book where there are a few pages missing? And even though you get the general idea of what occurred in those few pages from reading around it, you can't help but feeling cheated, as though that small missing bit is the key to something bigger? I feel like a book with missing pages. I'm not sure what story I am or even my ending, but I feel like there's a crucial piece that holds the answer to the next chapter in my life. If only I could turn the page.
I know LIFE is all about the unknown, but it's also not about doing nothing. And no matter what I try to do, I feel a big nothingness right now. I'm hoping for a nice wind of change to blow through and maybe lift the next page for me when I least expect it. Or maybe a cabana boy carrying a new copy of my book to my front door.
The other problem I find myself facing is "what do I want?" While I look at my friends and family I see them happy and doing the -- normal, for lack of a better word -- progression: relationship, moving in, marriage, family, jobs, ect. And there's nothing wrong with this, and they're happy. But I don't know if that's how I want to do it. I know I will want a family and love, but I feel strange for not feeling much interest in it now. And inevitably since my older sister and younger brother are both committed I frequently face the question of "So are you seeing anyone? How's the job hunt going? Are you moving soon?" And every time I get these questions get that feeling of being stalled. Because the truth is I am stalled.
Have you ever read a book where there are a few pages missing? And even though you get the general idea of what occurred in those few pages from reading around it, you can't help but feeling cheated, as though that small missing bit is the key to something bigger? I feel like a book with missing pages. I'm not sure what story I am or even my ending, but I feel like there's a crucial piece that holds the answer to the next chapter in my life. If only I could turn the page.
I know LIFE is all about the unknown, but it's also not about doing nothing. And no matter what I try to do, I feel a big nothingness right now. I'm hoping for a nice wind of change to blow through and maybe lift the next page for me when I least expect it. Or maybe a cabana boy carrying a new copy of my book to my front door.
Friday, July 13, 2012
Listening to the World
Today is cloudy with a chance of storms. This is the first day where the sun has been hidden in nearly three weeks. It seems the clouds lend to a tranquility in people and places. If I go out people all around me seem to move with a little less briskness and steady determination. If I go into establishments the motivation employees may usually show, is gone.
I never gave it much consideration before, but what if cloudy and rainy days are the world's way of telling us to slow down? The feeling of waking up from hearing rain beat constant against the sidewalk or the window and wanting nothing more than to snuggle back into bed with a comfortable laziness, and knowing it'll be a perfect day even if no task is accomplished, can be such an uplifting feeling. How often do we have a day off and spend it doing chores or running errands? I must believe when the world subtly influences us to slow down we should listen. If feeling a bit lazy is a natural by-product of a gray sky, then why shouldn't we delight in a day of simplicity?
For just a few moments here, I have laid on my couch, played Adele softly in the background, and the let breeze float over me. I think if we were able to achieve one moment of serenity in our day to day lives we could all be so much happier. We worry too much about completing and taking care of the things surrounding us, and often forget to give some of that care to ourselves.
Lets listen to the world a bit more.
I never gave it much consideration before, but what if cloudy and rainy days are the world's way of telling us to slow down? The feeling of waking up from hearing rain beat constant against the sidewalk or the window and wanting nothing more than to snuggle back into bed with a comfortable laziness, and knowing it'll be a perfect day even if no task is accomplished, can be such an uplifting feeling. How often do we have a day off and spend it doing chores or running errands? I must believe when the world subtly influences us to slow down we should listen. If feeling a bit lazy is a natural by-product of a gray sky, then why shouldn't we delight in a day of simplicity?
For just a few moments here, I have laid on my couch, played Adele softly in the background, and the let breeze float over me. I think if we were able to achieve one moment of serenity in our day to day lives we could all be so much happier. We worry too much about completing and taking care of the things surrounding us, and often forget to give some of that care to ourselves.
Lets listen to the world a bit more.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Welcome to the Desktop
Hello, good readers.
I'm not exactly sure about how to do this - it's quite unlike my backpacking blog, where I'd post about my daily excursions, emotions, challenges, and revelations. This, this is something else entirely.
As I named it, this is sort of the place I'm putting the overfill from my brain. For those of you who do not know me well, here's a little bit about me: if I have a piece of paper and a pen in front of me, with no direct purpose (such as note taking), or if I find the purpose dull and unengaging, I tend to doodle little pictures, write random words or phrases, and scattered thoughts that flit through my brain.
While keeping that in mind, please know that I do not always have my thoughts finalized and polished, which means, the posts on the blog may not be always be complete or even make sense. For that, I am not sorry - because for the poor unfortunate souls (I just had a flash of a mermaid with red hair go through my head) who come across this and decide to brave it, fair warning was given. Of course, I have to wonder if you are subjecting yourself to this blog, if you're not a bit of a masochist? After all, sometimes not even I want to be in my head, I'm not exactly sure why anyone else would either.
I've been debating for nearly a month and a half if I really wanted to start a new blog. It does take work and dedication, and while I don't have much going on in my life at the moment - and so, can afford the time it takes - I haven't been sure if it's what I really wanted to be doing with my time. That, and how could anyone possibly find anything I say interesting, let alone, worth reading? I've decided that even if no one reads this, it makes me accountable to myself. It gives me time to directly reflect on who I am, and what I want to change about myself to be a better person. And that alone is worth the time (for anyone).
Part of the other reason I decided to forge ahead with this, is I realized, for nearly five weeks of my life, I wrote something. Since, in my head, I aspire to be a published author one day, the act of writing anything is a good exercise. And I realized I enjoy the simple act of writing. It holds in itself a simple release of...purging. Being able to put out and let go of anything you've been clinging to helps lift off a mental weight. Ever try speaking to the wind about your troubles? If so, you know it feels good to say them out loud, even while you know you won't get an answer or advice. It just helps to get it out. If you've never done this, I suggest trying it. It's cheaper than therapy. So I suppose that is part of my aim with this blog too. To help myself stay purged of everything that begins to be too much, even if it isn't something negative. A lot of things in life are good and make you happy, but even good things can be overwhelming (I've never had children, but every parent I've ever talked to has said sometimes they need to get away - that's sort of the image I have circulating through my head at the moment). This is my wind. Even if no one reads and I get no answers, my troubles and thoughts are somewhere out in an endless space, where one day they may be found. And who knows? Maybe one day someone else will stumble upon them and it'll help them out. Like a lost dollar bill.
I don't plan to update this every day and have no schedule I'm trying to keep with this. Minimum, I hope to add something at least once a week.
I have just noticed the time is 2 a.m. and while I have been suffering from the inability to fall asleep until 4 a.m., I think I may try to conquer that inability again tonight.
So for now, enjoy every moment of your life: the good and the bad.
I'm not exactly sure about how to do this - it's quite unlike my backpacking blog, where I'd post about my daily excursions, emotions, challenges, and revelations. This, this is something else entirely.
As I named it, this is sort of the place I'm putting the overfill from my brain. For those of you who do not know me well, here's a little bit about me: if I have a piece of paper and a pen in front of me, with no direct purpose (such as note taking), or if I find the purpose dull and unengaging, I tend to doodle little pictures, write random words or phrases, and scattered thoughts that flit through my brain.
While keeping that in mind, please know that I do not always have my thoughts finalized and polished, which means, the posts on the blog may not be always be complete or even make sense. For that, I am not sorry - because for the poor unfortunate souls (I just had a flash of a mermaid with red hair go through my head) who come across this and decide to brave it, fair warning was given. Of course, I have to wonder if you are subjecting yourself to this blog, if you're not a bit of a masochist? After all, sometimes not even I want to be in my head, I'm not exactly sure why anyone else would either.
I've been debating for nearly a month and a half if I really wanted to start a new blog. It does take work and dedication, and while I don't have much going on in my life at the moment - and so, can afford the time it takes - I haven't been sure if it's what I really wanted to be doing with my time. That, and how could anyone possibly find anything I say interesting, let alone, worth reading? I've decided that even if no one reads this, it makes me accountable to myself. It gives me time to directly reflect on who I am, and what I want to change about myself to be a better person. And that alone is worth the time (for anyone).
Part of the other reason I decided to forge ahead with this, is I realized, for nearly five weeks of my life, I wrote something. Since, in my head, I aspire to be a published author one day, the act of writing anything is a good exercise. And I realized I enjoy the simple act of writing. It holds in itself a simple release of...purging. Being able to put out and let go of anything you've been clinging to helps lift off a mental weight. Ever try speaking to the wind about your troubles? If so, you know it feels good to say them out loud, even while you know you won't get an answer or advice. It just helps to get it out. If you've never done this, I suggest trying it. It's cheaper than therapy. So I suppose that is part of my aim with this blog too. To help myself stay purged of everything that begins to be too much, even if it isn't something negative. A lot of things in life are good and make you happy, but even good things can be overwhelming (I've never had children, but every parent I've ever talked to has said sometimes they need to get away - that's sort of the image I have circulating through my head at the moment). This is my wind. Even if no one reads and I get no answers, my troubles and thoughts are somewhere out in an endless space, where one day they may be found. And who knows? Maybe one day someone else will stumble upon them and it'll help them out. Like a lost dollar bill.
I don't plan to update this every day and have no schedule I'm trying to keep with this. Minimum, I hope to add something at least once a week.
I have just noticed the time is 2 a.m. and while I have been suffering from the inability to fall asleep until 4 a.m., I think I may try to conquer that inability again tonight.
So for now, enjoy every moment of your life: the good and the bad.
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