Words meant but were left unspoken take on a different name, and hearts mend that once were so broken as time heals the pain. 'Til you can find it in your heart to forgive, if not to forget, such a part of life that you lost.
-Paul Weller
Ahhh Paul Weller, my one true love ;-)
Some of you know 2014 has not been a stellar year for me. Some of you don't know . . . 2014 has not been a stellar year for me. You know what doesn't suck about stuff that sucks? The growth and learning, oh hell yeah, you know it. Like we don't all already rock it out enough everyday, we get kicked and learn to be an even greater version of ourselves. BOOM.
So I want to talk about shoulda, coulda, and their asshole brother, woulda. Screw these guys, they suck. Sometimes they come into life posed as helpers, they try to make you think they've arrived to help you grow and learn from your mistakes, but such is not the case. Their sinister purpose is to make you feel like crap and beat yourself up. They love it, but they can go straight to hell. Everyone makes mistakes, some big, some small, some completely on accident, but all based in the eyes of the beholder. Being beaten up over the foul balls in life, holding grudges, constantly bringing up something long gone and failing to forgive, are the mulch that feeds the filthy breeding ground of shoulda, coulda, and woulda. Compassion and love is what makes us grow. Think of the times you've screwed up at work. You know you need to go tell your boss, how do you feel? If you work for someone who wants to see you flourish and grow, someone who is encouraging then it's not going to be half as bad as if you work for someone who has their own demons. Now let me say, we all have our own demons to some extent, but there are those who need to make themselves feel big by making you feel small, and then shoulda, coulda, and woulda come around to haunt you. They rob you of sleep. They rob you of self worth. They give you the impression that if only you had done that one small thing differently then all of life would be different now. Is it true? Maybe, but only in that one instance. If there is something in your life that is going to go haywire, be it work or love or family or child rearing or bowling, it was bound to go haywire at some point anyway.
We're all going to screw up. People with mouths like me will say things they wish they hadn't. Meek people will not say things they wish they had. We'll all wish we had taken a risk, not taken a risk, spent money, saved money, there are a million and ten things in life to feel bad about, but stop it. It can become so insidious, until you start to believe you really are a bad person and maybe even start to manifest it because you believe it. And the thing is, you're awesome the way you are. Sometimes I shoot before I aim, I try not to and mostly I succeed, but it's ok if I don't from time to time. When I fail I apologize, I'm still Laura Ellen, I'm still awesome.
Here is what I've learned in the not so stellar (and yet will quite likely turn out to be very stellar) year of 2014; shoulda, coulda, and woulda can blow me. Everyone can always learn and grow and evolve and continue moving onward and upward in life but along the way, do not forget, DO NOT FORGET . . . that you are crazy f***ing amazing right now. Not later, now. And people who try to hold you victim to some stupid mistake you've made can go wander around in their own barrenness, that is their issue, not yours. What can be harder though, is when we do it to ourselves. Other people are going to find fault with you here and there, regardless of whether it's actually there or not, but you, YOU need to love you. And you know what's awesome about you? Everything. Hell yeah baby, everything! Your off key singing, your fear of public speaking, your mismatched socks, your aversion to mustard, your fear of bees, your resolute hatred of cactus and your insane love for squirrels, these things make us all beautiful.
During this very, very tumultuous year I have sought guidance and counsel and love and sympathetic ears and shoulders on which to cry and relied heavily on my feet to take me out on walks and calm my spirit. I have learned much about me and, I will admit, I wish I had learned it earlier and I often times think if I had, then things would be different now. Maybe, who knows? Shoulda, coulda, woulda, but it's the shit sandwiches in life that guide us to change. Tears and walks and anger and sadness and wondering brings us all closer to happiness eventually, but only if you dig in and do what it takes. Stop beating yourself up, others are going to do it enough for you . . . and stop listening to those that do. As I said before, anyone holding something over your head and unwilling to forgive has their own issues, think how badly they're beating themselves up. Things in my life are lookin' up, and it's all because I love me, and because I love me I have a far greater capacity to love others and offer compassion and know when a situation is not right now for me . . . and I know not to beat myself up. I am so goddamned amazing (remember, I have a deal with God and I am allowed to say goddamnit) because I surround myself with amazing people. I am deeply indebted to Shelly Reimer for her candor, counsel, and insight. I am grateful over and over again for the support and love of my remarkable circle of friends; you have all held me up when I have been down, you have all given me enormous amounts of compassion and understanding and patience. And my wacky, confounding, devoted and insane family, I would not be at all who I am without all of you . . . for better or for worse. ;-)
Look back enough to learn, but your life is now. Don't be a slave to your past.
Hey, 2014 second half . . . I'm comin' for ya!
Saturday, July 26, 2014
Saturday, June 7, 2014
LOVE BOAT
"I'm gonna write about the birthday gown that I bought in town when you sat down and cried on the stairs.
You knew it did not cost the earth, but for what it's worth you made me feel a millionaire and you wear it well, Madame Onassis got nothing on you"
Rod Stewart
This month's story is short because it's simple; be kind.
On Memorial Day I was in my front yard gleefully doing my inner city container gardening (would that I had an entire back yard and a full garden, but such is not the case in life for now). Anyway, it's a good thing I wasn't in my imaginary back yard because on that beautiful, sunny, hot day an older gentleman stopped his car across the street from me and did the "sumpthin' ain't right here" lift of the hood. When there is a head buried under the hood of a car pretty much nothing good is occurring . . . unless you are at a car show where peering under the hood is a pleasure if that's your thing. This car was beautiful. I wish I could tell you what it was, but I can't. It looked like an old Cadillac but I wouldn't swear to it. It had been restored and was immaculate. I wondered if he wasn't so delighted with his car that he just needed to stop and stare at his amazing engine, car people love that stuff ya know. After a few minutes he crossed the street and he asked me if I could get him a bucket of water. I thought I misunderstood and he wanted a glass of water, but no, he needed a bucket. It was hot after all, maybe he had a mighty thirst for a whole bucket of water. Who am I to judge anothers drinking vessel of choice? So I popped myself in the house and got this nice man his bucket of water, pronto. No older gentleman is going thirsty on my watch! Turns out the "head under the hood" thing was not engine adoration but, indeed, trouble. I asked him about his car and he said he had put in a lot of work on it, this was the maiden voyage, but there was no way they were both getting back home without water stops along the way. He wanted to buy my bucket. He pulled out his wallet and tried to give me $5.00 for my cheap ass plastic Target bucket (Cheap Ass Plastic Target Bucket should totally be a band name). Of course I didn't let him pay me. He tried again and we bandied a bit until I said "I insist. Knowing you have gotten home safely is surely worth the price of a bucket". He thanked me and went on his way. Now this story in and of itself is not entirely captivating, any one of you would have done the same. What is captivating is that yesterday I came home to find that bucket on my front step with a note from the older gentleman thanking me for the use of my bucket. I damn near sat down on my steps and wept. I will keep that note until the day I die. That note is a reminder that there is goodness in the world and sometimes it doesn't take any more than a kind word and cheap plastic bucket to find it.
Every day we have choices in how we act towards others and, let's not forget, how we act towards ourselves as well. As the Dalai Lama has said "Our prime purpose in this life is to help others, and if you can't help them, at least don't hurt them". People are going to hurt you, most by accident, but others will just be careless and thoughtless and selfish. Sometimes it can feel like the world is full of hurt and anger and sadness and fear. People hurt others based on their own fears, that's their damage, not yours. When others act demeaning toward you, that doesn't mean you need to be demeaned by it.
Happiness is everywhere. I was already happy when I was just planting my flowers. Then helping a nice man made me even happier, then when he repaid my kindness with a kind word, c'mon, only ice cream could improve that story. But even if kindness isn't repaid, it's still worth doing because it just makes you feel good, and sometimes that's enough. Smile at a stranger, not in a creeper way, just a smile. It makes people happy. Hug someone you love. My yoga instructor hugged me after class this morning and I didn't want to let go, and she didn't push me away and make me let go until I was good and done. There's almost nothing better in the whole wide world than a real hug, c'mon, only ice cream can improve on that. Yoga, hugs, and ice cream; feel free to use that as a band name, I've got dibs on Cheap Ass Plastic Target Bucket. Pay for someone's coffee, go visit people when they're sick, send a birthday card, or say a prayer. Help people. Love People. Be kind to people. And when people harm you, remember this, THEY CANNOT DEMEAN YOU. When I think of this I think of Gandolf saying "YOU SHALL NOT PASS"! And so they shan't.
So, like I said, short and to the point this month. Be kind to one another.
You knew it did not cost the earth, but for what it's worth you made me feel a millionaire and you wear it well, Madame Onassis got nothing on you"
Rod Stewart
This month's story is short because it's simple; be kind.
On Memorial Day I was in my front yard gleefully doing my inner city container gardening (would that I had an entire back yard and a full garden, but such is not the case in life for now). Anyway, it's a good thing I wasn't in my imaginary back yard because on that beautiful, sunny, hot day an older gentleman stopped his car across the street from me and did the "sumpthin' ain't right here" lift of the hood. When there is a head buried under the hood of a car pretty much nothing good is occurring . . . unless you are at a car show where peering under the hood is a pleasure if that's your thing. This car was beautiful. I wish I could tell you what it was, but I can't. It looked like an old Cadillac but I wouldn't swear to it. It had been restored and was immaculate. I wondered if he wasn't so delighted with his car that he just needed to stop and stare at his amazing engine, car people love that stuff ya know. After a few minutes he crossed the street and he asked me if I could get him a bucket of water. I thought I misunderstood and he wanted a glass of water, but no, he needed a bucket. It was hot after all, maybe he had a mighty thirst for a whole bucket of water. Who am I to judge anothers drinking vessel of choice? So I popped myself in the house and got this nice man his bucket of water, pronto. No older gentleman is going thirsty on my watch! Turns out the "head under the hood" thing was not engine adoration but, indeed, trouble. I asked him about his car and he said he had put in a lot of work on it, this was the maiden voyage, but there was no way they were both getting back home without water stops along the way. He wanted to buy my bucket. He pulled out his wallet and tried to give me $5.00 for my cheap ass plastic Target bucket (Cheap Ass Plastic Target Bucket should totally be a band name). Of course I didn't let him pay me. He tried again and we bandied a bit until I said "I insist. Knowing you have gotten home safely is surely worth the price of a bucket". He thanked me and went on his way. Now this story in and of itself is not entirely captivating, any one of you would have done the same. What is captivating is that yesterday I came home to find that bucket on my front step with a note from the older gentleman thanking me for the use of my bucket. I damn near sat down on my steps and wept. I will keep that note until the day I die. That note is a reminder that there is goodness in the world and sometimes it doesn't take any more than a kind word and cheap plastic bucket to find it.
Every day we have choices in how we act towards others and, let's not forget, how we act towards ourselves as well. As the Dalai Lama has said "Our prime purpose in this life is to help others, and if you can't help them, at least don't hurt them". People are going to hurt you, most by accident, but others will just be careless and thoughtless and selfish. Sometimes it can feel like the world is full of hurt and anger and sadness and fear. People hurt others based on their own fears, that's their damage, not yours. When others act demeaning toward you, that doesn't mean you need to be demeaned by it.
Happiness is everywhere. I was already happy when I was just planting my flowers. Then helping a nice man made me even happier, then when he repaid my kindness with a kind word, c'mon, only ice cream could improve that story. But even if kindness isn't repaid, it's still worth doing because it just makes you feel good, and sometimes that's enough. Smile at a stranger, not in a creeper way, just a smile. It makes people happy. Hug someone you love. My yoga instructor hugged me after class this morning and I didn't want to let go, and she didn't push me away and make me let go until I was good and done. There's almost nothing better in the whole wide world than a real hug, c'mon, only ice cream can improve on that. Yoga, hugs, and ice cream; feel free to use that as a band name, I've got dibs on Cheap Ass Plastic Target Bucket. Pay for someone's coffee, go visit people when they're sick, send a birthday card, or say a prayer. Help people. Love People. Be kind to people. And when people harm you, remember this, THEY CANNOT DEMEAN YOU. When I think of this I think of Gandolf saying "YOU SHALL NOT PASS"! And so they shan't.
So, like I said, short and to the point this month. Be kind to one another.
Tuesday, May 6, 2014
Shoulder Seasons
Gonna take a trip to Laredo, gonna take a dip in the lake. Oh, I'm at a crossroads with myself, I don't got no one else. Possibilities at the door, I won't be needing them anymore. Oh, is this the first time in your life it's hard just to get by?
-Band of Horses
I hate spring and fall. There, I said it. I HATE SPRING AND FALL. I hate them because I am an all or nothing kinda girl, I have little patience for things that are half assed. I don't like half assed relationships (piss or get off the pot). I don't like leaving events early just to miss traffic on the way home (if you've committed to it then you've committed to all of it including traffic so make the best of it), I don't like black eyed peas without cornbread (who does that?). If you're doing something then be a Jet and be a Jet all the way from your first cigarette to your last dying day.
That's why I hate the shoulder seasons. Winter is beautiful, the snow is pristine and the world is full of quiet beauty. Winter is snowboarding and snowshoeing and long walks while the snow falls and warm sweaters and Bailey's Irish Cream in your coffee. Winter is a time to nest and snuggle.
Summer is freaking awesome! Sundresses with flip flops, all day every day. Everytime I walk outside and feel the sun on my face it feels like a big hug from Mother Nature. Summer is a time to take a nap outside and plant living things and ride my bike and eat salted watermelon. Summer is a time to be languid and oozy and drape yourself across a porch swing while saying "Sugah lamb, will you pour me some more lemonade? And bring mama a nice cold beer to chase it down with".
Winter is cold. Summer is hot. Spring and Fall are iffy and non-committal. I can't stand iffy and non-committal. You don't know what you're getting. There is the hope that something good this way comes, but hope doesn't always amount to much. And how long does hope expect you and me to wait around before we say "screw you, I've got other places to be and the bus is pullin' up".
Meh.
So this brings me to getting what one wants in life. I have set an intention on what I want in my life. In looking back on a situation recently experienced I can see, with the clarity of hindsight, that while I have had a goal, I only had the goal, not the means to reach this goal. Without smaller milestones along the way and without focus I addled off into a realm that could have been, and should have been, avoided. I only had wishful thinking, not a path of intent and vision. I have never much bothered with baby steps in attaining what I want because they are not the big finish. Now, however, I am learning the value of the path, the value of its equal parts of pain and pleasure, and the lessons that both bring.
Often times we can get so focused on what we want, we fail to see when the ship is sinking. Life will bring us all what is best, and so many times we fight it. We push and push and push for something so crazy wrong for us until it blows up into something that, akin to Humpty Dumpty, can't be put back together again . . .
and that's ok.
As C.S. Lewis tells us, there are far far better things ahead than any we leave behind. Sometimes it's hard to believe, but give it some time, it's true. Setting an intention can be sticky, because it requires focus but also, an equal amount of letting go and allowing life to bring its greatness to you. What if you want to be the CEO of Oracle and you push so hard for that you don't leave yourself open to being the CEO of Apple? Have a vision, have focus, have clarity and intention and fortitude, plant that seed and if tulips bloom instead of gladiolas, don't be sad-iola. (insert your eyeball rolling here). Or hell, be sad-iola, that's ok, and then move on and love your beautiful tulips.
So, do spring and fall suck? Well, they're not my favorite BUT, spring beckons us to plant and be outside and shed the layer of cold. Fall brings football and the excitement of change. In my life I am opening myself to the beauty of what life brings randomly on my chosen path that doesn't feel random. Make plans, and then be open to the curves those plans will take. Know who you are. Know what you will accept. Know what you will not accept. Let others be who they are, it's ok if it doesn't align with who you are, they are on their own path just as you are on yours.
Don't go changin' . . .
-Band of Horses
I hate spring and fall. There, I said it. I HATE SPRING AND FALL. I hate them because I am an all or nothing kinda girl, I have little patience for things that are half assed. I don't like half assed relationships (piss or get off the pot). I don't like leaving events early just to miss traffic on the way home (if you've committed to it then you've committed to all of it including traffic so make the best of it), I don't like black eyed peas without cornbread (who does that?). If you're doing something then be a Jet and be a Jet all the way from your first cigarette to your last dying day.
That's why I hate the shoulder seasons. Winter is beautiful, the snow is pristine and the world is full of quiet beauty. Winter is snowboarding and snowshoeing and long walks while the snow falls and warm sweaters and Bailey's Irish Cream in your coffee. Winter is a time to nest and snuggle.
Summer is freaking awesome! Sundresses with flip flops, all day every day. Everytime I walk outside and feel the sun on my face it feels like a big hug from Mother Nature. Summer is a time to take a nap outside and plant living things and ride my bike and eat salted watermelon. Summer is a time to be languid and oozy and drape yourself across a porch swing while saying "Sugah lamb, will you pour me some more lemonade? And bring mama a nice cold beer to chase it down with".
Winter is cold. Summer is hot. Spring and Fall are iffy and non-committal. I can't stand iffy and non-committal. You don't know what you're getting. There is the hope that something good this way comes, but hope doesn't always amount to much. And how long does hope expect you and me to wait around before we say "screw you, I've got other places to be and the bus is pullin' up".
Meh.
So this brings me to getting what one wants in life. I have set an intention on what I want in my life. In looking back on a situation recently experienced I can see, with the clarity of hindsight, that while I have had a goal, I only had the goal, not the means to reach this goal. Without smaller milestones along the way and without focus I addled off into a realm that could have been, and should have been, avoided. I only had wishful thinking, not a path of intent and vision. I have never much bothered with baby steps in attaining what I want because they are not the big finish. Now, however, I am learning the value of the path, the value of its equal parts of pain and pleasure, and the lessons that both bring.
Often times we can get so focused on what we want, we fail to see when the ship is sinking. Life will bring us all what is best, and so many times we fight it. We push and push and push for something so crazy wrong for us until it blows up into something that, akin to Humpty Dumpty, can't be put back together again . . .
and that's ok.
As C.S. Lewis tells us, there are far far better things ahead than any we leave behind. Sometimes it's hard to believe, but give it some time, it's true. Setting an intention can be sticky, because it requires focus but also, an equal amount of letting go and allowing life to bring its greatness to you. What if you want to be the CEO of Oracle and you push so hard for that you don't leave yourself open to being the CEO of Apple? Have a vision, have focus, have clarity and intention and fortitude, plant that seed and if tulips bloom instead of gladiolas, don't be sad-iola. (insert your eyeball rolling here). Or hell, be sad-iola, that's ok, and then move on and love your beautiful tulips.
So, do spring and fall suck? Well, they're not my favorite BUT, spring beckons us to plant and be outside and shed the layer of cold. Fall brings football and the excitement of change. In my life I am opening myself to the beauty of what life brings randomly on my chosen path that doesn't feel random. Make plans, and then be open to the curves those plans will take. Know who you are. Know what you will accept. Know what you will not accept. Let others be who they are, it's ok if it doesn't align with who you are, they are on their own path just as you are on yours.
Don't go changin' . . .
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
WTF? ARE YOU EVEN KIDDING ME WITH THAT CRAP?
I'm looking through you, where did you go? I thought I knew you, what did I know?
You don't look different, but you have changed. I'm looking through you, you're not the same.
-The Beatles
At some point you have been, or will be, told a lie by someone you trust . . . . or trusted up to that point.
You will find someone with their hand in the cookie jar, you will point out said hand in said cookie jar, and that person will look you straight in the face and say “It’s not what you think”.
But it is.
It’s exactly what you think because you’re not an idiot. That’s right, YOU are not the idiot. You may feel like an idiot, but you aren’t the one who engaged in idiotic behavior. Unfortunately, you are the one who feels like you’ve been kicked in the stomach. You are the one who feels betrayed. You are the one who is now looking at the person you thought you knew and wondering “Who are you? Do I know anything at all about you, other than you’re a liar? How long have you been lying? What else have you lied about? Was anything you ever said true”? In one fell swoop everything you know, or knew, is cast out the window and the person you thought you knew is a stranger; you throw the baby out with the bath water. You begin to look back in your history with this person, the sniglets of questioning that showed themselves before, they suddenly change from nagging thought you once pushed away to “Oh my God. Then? Did you lie then too?” You want to believe that person, oh my word how you want to believe them, you don’t want to believe what is happening, but it is.
People tell lies to protect others. People tell lies out of fear. People tell lies out of embarrassment or shame. Are there acceptable lies? Sure. Does this skirt make my butt look big? No . . . no it sure does not. Do you like my new hair cut? Yes! Everyone loves a regulation military flat top on a woman, it’s quite fetching! Some lies are just rhetorical answers to rhetorical questions. Other lies truly do protect; without deception no one would have hidden Jewish people in closets and basements and barns during WWII, without deception the abused would have nowhere to run and hide and find shelter from their abusers. But others are just flat out cruel. Few things are worse than the pain of being purposely deceived for the benefit of the liar, and only the liar. Your emotions are not even remotely interesting to the cruel liar. Even the painful truth is nowhere near as painful as the slap in the face that is a lie, it’s not about “you and me and getting through this rough moment”. It’s about ME (thinks the liar) and getting as far away from this as possible with no thought whatsoever of anyone else or consequences.
But as William Shakespeare reminds us, the truth will always out. And it does, the truth is always, always revealed. First, you can tell someone is lying while it’s happening, it’s obvious. Next, people love to talk, good Lord how people love to talk! Either through gossip or the liar’s own inability to shut the hell up, the truth will be told; give people enough rope and they will indeed hang themselves. But last, and perhaps most important, it’s just the way of the karmic fates that preside over our morality. Untruths are always uncloaked. Lies make life unbalanced. They briefly tip the scales in one person’s favor under very covert and questionable circumstances, since that’s not fair the yin and yang of the world won’t keep it that way forever. Lies take away our freedom of choice. When someone paints an incorrect picture for you they have robbed you of your choices on how to proceed. Your own free will in a situation that involves you and your life is taken. You are not given the option of how to handle the situation for yourself. Lying clearly sacrifices the liar’s dignity, but it also sacrifices the dignity of the person on the receiving end. It brings everyone down to a base level. Lying is also arrogant. Lying says “I have the upper hand. This situation is about control and power, not about faith in you or me or our ability to get through this difficult moment so I am going to take control and orchestrate everything my way”. Thus it is decreed, the gavel bangs, all rise, kiss the ring of the controlling liar as you exit.
Arrogance, deception, furtiveness; all dangerous and dicey and slippery. These are the facets of lying that we can look to when we are in pain after having been victimized by lying. These things help us to feel less victimized and gain some foot hold again. We need these power moments of anger to help us swing the pendulum back our way just a bit, we need the shift of power. And we need these moments of strength to give us some respite from the bitter pain of being so utterly disrespected. The crush of knowing you mean so little to someone that they would rather wave you off with a lie than have an above board conversation with you is shocking. It can be destroying to learn this person has no self respect, no respect for you, and no respect for whatever relationship it is you have. Lying is cruel . . . cruel to all involved, be it voluntarily or involuntarily. Lying is bollocks.
As always, I like to bring my real life experience stories around to a positive end, so let’s move on and make with the happy!
Remember, everything really is for the best. Sometimes you need to learn the person you have faith in is absent of integrity and undeserving of your faith. Sometimes it’s the only way to get the muck and toxicity out of your life. It can shake your world and leave a terrible void to lose respect for someone. This person who once stood tall in your eyes is reduced to a simpering mass of timidity. It hurts to see it happen, but it is for the best. This is not a place you should be. Throughout the roller coaster of emotions that occur; anger, shock, devastation, nonchalance, tons and tons of “chalance”; and the physical response of stomach knots, remember this . . . it is not about you, it is no reflection on you, and let me reiterate this is not a place you should be. Get angry, cry, write terrible songs and crappy blogs, then drop it and move on.
One day, when you can, if you can, try to send some good thoughts out to the person that deceived you, they need it. Something is going on inside that person that has nothing to do with you, nothing at all. Their actions are coming from somewhere sad, or hurt, or fearful. They didn't lie to you, they lied about themselves, remember the difference. You don’t have to love what they did, and I’m not suggesting you go back for more (let us harken back to THIS IS NOT A PLACE YOU SHOULD BE), just try to separate the behavior from the person. You will eventually forgive and forget, like the Taoist river flowing over the rock – you will not beat your head against it, your life will move on, you will shine on, leaving their rock of deceit in your wake, but they will still carry the deceit. Now the balance of power has shifted your way, but who wants that? Just as lying is arrogant, so is being didactic, so play nice. Try to keep life balanced, try to be fair and loving.
Nature, time, and patience are the three great healers.
Love all y’all!
You don't look different, but you have changed. I'm looking through you, you're not the same.
-The Beatles
At some point you have been, or will be, told a lie by someone you trust . . . . or trusted up to that point.
You will find someone with their hand in the cookie jar, you will point out said hand in said cookie jar, and that person will look you straight in the face and say “It’s not what you think”.
But it is.
It’s exactly what you think because you’re not an idiot. That’s right, YOU are not the idiot. You may feel like an idiot, but you aren’t the one who engaged in idiotic behavior. Unfortunately, you are the one who feels like you’ve been kicked in the stomach. You are the one who feels betrayed. You are the one who is now looking at the person you thought you knew and wondering “Who are you? Do I know anything at all about you, other than you’re a liar? How long have you been lying? What else have you lied about? Was anything you ever said true”? In one fell swoop everything you know, or knew, is cast out the window and the person you thought you knew is a stranger; you throw the baby out with the bath water. You begin to look back in your history with this person, the sniglets of questioning that showed themselves before, they suddenly change from nagging thought you once pushed away to “Oh my God. Then? Did you lie then too?” You want to believe that person, oh my word how you want to believe them, you don’t want to believe what is happening, but it is.
People tell lies to protect others. People tell lies out of fear. People tell lies out of embarrassment or shame. Are there acceptable lies? Sure. Does this skirt make my butt look big? No . . . no it sure does not. Do you like my new hair cut? Yes! Everyone loves a regulation military flat top on a woman, it’s quite fetching! Some lies are just rhetorical answers to rhetorical questions. Other lies truly do protect; without deception no one would have hidden Jewish people in closets and basements and barns during WWII, without deception the abused would have nowhere to run and hide and find shelter from their abusers. But others are just flat out cruel. Few things are worse than the pain of being purposely deceived for the benefit of the liar, and only the liar. Your emotions are not even remotely interesting to the cruel liar. Even the painful truth is nowhere near as painful as the slap in the face that is a lie, it’s not about “you and me and getting through this rough moment”. It’s about ME (thinks the liar) and getting as far away from this as possible with no thought whatsoever of anyone else or consequences.
But as William Shakespeare reminds us, the truth will always out. And it does, the truth is always, always revealed. First, you can tell someone is lying while it’s happening, it’s obvious. Next, people love to talk, good Lord how people love to talk! Either through gossip or the liar’s own inability to shut the hell up, the truth will be told; give people enough rope and they will indeed hang themselves. But last, and perhaps most important, it’s just the way of the karmic fates that preside over our morality. Untruths are always uncloaked. Lies make life unbalanced. They briefly tip the scales in one person’s favor under very covert and questionable circumstances, since that’s not fair the yin and yang of the world won’t keep it that way forever. Lies take away our freedom of choice. When someone paints an incorrect picture for you they have robbed you of your choices on how to proceed. Your own free will in a situation that involves you and your life is taken. You are not given the option of how to handle the situation for yourself. Lying clearly sacrifices the liar’s dignity, but it also sacrifices the dignity of the person on the receiving end. It brings everyone down to a base level. Lying is also arrogant. Lying says “I have the upper hand. This situation is about control and power, not about faith in you or me or our ability to get through this difficult moment so I am going to take control and orchestrate everything my way”. Thus it is decreed, the gavel bangs, all rise, kiss the ring of the controlling liar as you exit.
Arrogance, deception, furtiveness; all dangerous and dicey and slippery. These are the facets of lying that we can look to when we are in pain after having been victimized by lying. These things help us to feel less victimized and gain some foot hold again. We need these power moments of anger to help us swing the pendulum back our way just a bit, we need the shift of power. And we need these moments of strength to give us some respite from the bitter pain of being so utterly disrespected. The crush of knowing you mean so little to someone that they would rather wave you off with a lie than have an above board conversation with you is shocking. It can be destroying to learn this person has no self respect, no respect for you, and no respect for whatever relationship it is you have. Lying is cruel . . . cruel to all involved, be it voluntarily or involuntarily. Lying is bollocks.
As always, I like to bring my real life experience stories around to a positive end, so let’s move on and make with the happy!
Remember, everything really is for the best. Sometimes you need to learn the person you have faith in is absent of integrity and undeserving of your faith. Sometimes it’s the only way to get the muck and toxicity out of your life. It can shake your world and leave a terrible void to lose respect for someone. This person who once stood tall in your eyes is reduced to a simpering mass of timidity. It hurts to see it happen, but it is for the best. This is not a place you should be. Throughout the roller coaster of emotions that occur; anger, shock, devastation, nonchalance, tons and tons of “chalance”; and the physical response of stomach knots, remember this . . . it is not about you, it is no reflection on you, and let me reiterate this is not a place you should be. Get angry, cry, write terrible songs and crappy blogs, then drop it and move on.
One day, when you can, if you can, try to send some good thoughts out to the person that deceived you, they need it. Something is going on inside that person that has nothing to do with you, nothing at all. Their actions are coming from somewhere sad, or hurt, or fearful. They didn't lie to you, they lied about themselves, remember the difference. You don’t have to love what they did, and I’m not suggesting you go back for more (let us harken back to THIS IS NOT A PLACE YOU SHOULD BE), just try to separate the behavior from the person. You will eventually forgive and forget, like the Taoist river flowing over the rock – you will not beat your head against it, your life will move on, you will shine on, leaving their rock of deceit in your wake, but they will still carry the deceit. Now the balance of power has shifted your way, but who wants that? Just as lying is arrogant, so is being didactic, so play nice. Try to keep life balanced, try to be fair and loving.
Nature, time, and patience are the three great healers.
Love all y’all!
Monday, April 8, 2013
BLAHSVILLE
I quit. I give up. Nothing's good enough for anybody else it seems. And being alone
is the best way to be. When I'm by myself it's the best way to be. When I'm all alone it's
the best way to be. When I'm by myself nobody else can say goodbye. Everything is temporary anyway.
-Edie Brickell
I had a bad week a little while ago. It felt like everything in my life had gone wrong, good things left and bad things stayed, leaving me to dine on stress and shit sandwiches.
I gave up.
I gave up all hope. I had had it with thinking positive, with being positive, with having hope and wishes and dreams and aspirations. I just quit. What good is it anyway? You think positive and you believe in so much good and yet, you get taken to the mat. Why bother with all this positive thinking if it’s just going to slap you around? Better to be realistic or even better . . . to do nothing. To quit, throw in the towel, hoist the white flag and take the last train to Clarksville. As our dear friend and philosopher, Cartman, says “screw you guys, I’m goin’ home”.
During this bleak time I cried, and it showed. I turtle’d at home. I wondered what my purpose in life is and, indeed, the purpose of life at all. Not to the point where I broke out my pseudo intellectual college girl self and delved into Camus readings, but to the point of . . . hmmmmm . . . how do I describe it . . . nothing. Absolute zero. Null. Barren. Not even shoe shopping sounded interesting. Blah.
Generally time heals all wounds, other times it just opens the wounds that have healed. Imagine you want something, no . . . more than want, you believe so strongly you’ll have it that you don’t even consider life without it, but then, the years pass, what you thought would occur doesn’t, and you finally have to be real and say “that ship has sailed”. That damn ship left without me and I could have sworn I booked passage, but here I stand on the dock, watching it leave while I longingly stare at what I thought was mine diminish on the horizon. Wounded. And then, with many years time, healed. But what if the scar is scratched open and once again you have hope? Is it realistic? Does it matter? Do hope and reality always fit like hand in glove? Do you dare hope a second time for something that was so difficult to lose once? During happy times any one of you, and of course me, would say “Oh my yes, never give up hope, you never know, so many possibilities, so many other ways of having what you want, keep your mind and your heart open”. And then there are times when you say “Bullshit and balderdash”.
Bullshit and balderdash are feelings worth having. In this world of Deepak Chopra and Wayne Dyer we are all conditioned to follow the advice of our Python friends and always look on the bright side of life, and for the most part I agree. But it can’t always happen right away nor, I believe, should it. For craps sake, you’re unhappy, it’s ok, be unhappy a bit. Cry your little eyes out and when your friend says “Are you ok? You look like you’ve been crying”, just say "yes". After all, what if the answer was “no” and you truly looked like crap with no excuse? I’d rather be accused of crying. Besides, you have to let it out so you don’t end up with ulcers or shingles or going on a shopping spree you can ill afford. Just keep your tears and credit cards at home for a while and indulge how sad you are. It’s alright.
But what of the feeling beyond sad, the feeling of hopelessness and what if’s and giving up? These feelings are more than just the illness at hand, these are insidious. These are the bigger questions that only relate to the initial pain in an arterial way. You want a new job. You want a house . . . or children . . . or a garden, or a trip to Europe, or to be President of the Justin Timberlake fan club and you recognize they all require work and effort. You put in the work and effort and yet, your wish remains an elusive shot in the dark as your coin pings at the bottom of the well. Then you feel it. Why hope? Why bother? It comes so close and then runs through my un-webbed fingers as though it meant nothing to me. So you go to work, you leave work, you go to the gym, you go home, you go to sleep, you get up and do it all again along with all the other automatons and you wonder, are they happy? Is this it? Am I asking for too much? I don’t know, all I know is what I want isn’t here and doesn’t seem to be on its way, so what now? What path? Did I miss a turn? Did I forget to book passage on yet another ship? Did the ship return and leave without me again?!
I can’t answer any of these questions. But they’re all worthy questions and therein lay the productive catalyst of hopelessness. It brings up questions and can help foster change and growth. What do you really want? Do you really want that ship that you let sail to return? Then call it back, get that thing back here and until there is no hope whatsoever and the last nail is driven in the coffin of that dream then keep it up because now my dear friends . . .
Time has passed.
Now you can buck up buttercup (I love you M.M.!), and move onward through the fog. Along the way there will be setbacks and moments of struggle and that is all well and good, but you’ve hung your head low and contemplated your navel enough to see inside, and what beauty lies within. Life is fraught with sadness, just as it is fraught with happiness. You will lose hope and determination and drop all the spinning plates, but you can get more plates. All the seasons are beautiful, from snowstorm to sun splash.
I began this writing while wondering “is this it”? I’m not going to fill you up with a bunch of dewy crap and say “my life is wonderful and if this is it I’ll take it”! My life isn’t a musical, I’m not going to burst forth with song and dance, truth be told I hate musicals. My life has some great things in it, no doubt about it, and as M.M. and I discussed just the other day, the 21 year old version of me would look at the life I have now and find great success in at least some of it. But I want more. That’s where the question posed in the very beginning comes in; what comes from wanting more? Do you get what you want or do you get a reality inducing slap in the face? I dunno, lately it felt like a slap, but it’s still worth heeding the advice of Journey and “don’t stop believin’”. And listen my friends, it’s ok to want more. It’s ok to want more love, to want more from your job, to want more days on the mountain next Winter, and to want more out of life, there is nothing wrong with wanting all that you can handle. DON’T.STOP.BELIEVIN’.
Let’s go back to our friend, Edie and her New Bohemian buddies . . .
Everything is temporary anyway.
When the streets are wet the colors slip into the sky.
When the streets are wet the colors slip into the sky . . . and you have to look up to see them.
Chin up buttercup.
is the best way to be. When I'm by myself it's the best way to be. When I'm all alone it's
the best way to be. When I'm by myself nobody else can say goodbye. Everything is temporary anyway.
-Edie Brickell
I had a bad week a little while ago. It felt like everything in my life had gone wrong, good things left and bad things stayed, leaving me to dine on stress and shit sandwiches.
I gave up.
I gave up all hope. I had had it with thinking positive, with being positive, with having hope and wishes and dreams and aspirations. I just quit. What good is it anyway? You think positive and you believe in so much good and yet, you get taken to the mat. Why bother with all this positive thinking if it’s just going to slap you around? Better to be realistic or even better . . . to do nothing. To quit, throw in the towel, hoist the white flag and take the last train to Clarksville. As our dear friend and philosopher, Cartman, says “screw you guys, I’m goin’ home”.
During this bleak time I cried, and it showed. I turtle’d at home. I wondered what my purpose in life is and, indeed, the purpose of life at all. Not to the point where I broke out my pseudo intellectual college girl self and delved into Camus readings, but to the point of . . . hmmmmm . . . how do I describe it . . . nothing. Absolute zero. Null. Barren. Not even shoe shopping sounded interesting. Blah.
Generally time heals all wounds, other times it just opens the wounds that have healed. Imagine you want something, no . . . more than want, you believe so strongly you’ll have it that you don’t even consider life without it, but then, the years pass, what you thought would occur doesn’t, and you finally have to be real and say “that ship has sailed”. That damn ship left without me and I could have sworn I booked passage, but here I stand on the dock, watching it leave while I longingly stare at what I thought was mine diminish on the horizon. Wounded. And then, with many years time, healed. But what if the scar is scratched open and once again you have hope? Is it realistic? Does it matter? Do hope and reality always fit like hand in glove? Do you dare hope a second time for something that was so difficult to lose once? During happy times any one of you, and of course me, would say “Oh my yes, never give up hope, you never know, so many possibilities, so many other ways of having what you want, keep your mind and your heart open”. And then there are times when you say “Bullshit and balderdash”.
Bullshit and balderdash are feelings worth having. In this world of Deepak Chopra and Wayne Dyer we are all conditioned to follow the advice of our Python friends and always look on the bright side of life, and for the most part I agree. But it can’t always happen right away nor, I believe, should it. For craps sake, you’re unhappy, it’s ok, be unhappy a bit. Cry your little eyes out and when your friend says “Are you ok? You look like you’ve been crying”, just say "yes". After all, what if the answer was “no” and you truly looked like crap with no excuse? I’d rather be accused of crying. Besides, you have to let it out so you don’t end up with ulcers or shingles or going on a shopping spree you can ill afford. Just keep your tears and credit cards at home for a while and indulge how sad you are. It’s alright.
But what of the feeling beyond sad, the feeling of hopelessness and what if’s and giving up? These feelings are more than just the illness at hand, these are insidious. These are the bigger questions that only relate to the initial pain in an arterial way. You want a new job. You want a house . . . or children . . . or a garden, or a trip to Europe, or to be President of the Justin Timberlake fan club and you recognize they all require work and effort. You put in the work and effort and yet, your wish remains an elusive shot in the dark as your coin pings at the bottom of the well. Then you feel it. Why hope? Why bother? It comes so close and then runs through my un-webbed fingers as though it meant nothing to me. So you go to work, you leave work, you go to the gym, you go home, you go to sleep, you get up and do it all again along with all the other automatons and you wonder, are they happy? Is this it? Am I asking for too much? I don’t know, all I know is what I want isn’t here and doesn’t seem to be on its way, so what now? What path? Did I miss a turn? Did I forget to book passage on yet another ship? Did the ship return and leave without me again?!
I can’t answer any of these questions. But they’re all worthy questions and therein lay the productive catalyst of hopelessness. It brings up questions and can help foster change and growth. What do you really want? Do you really want that ship that you let sail to return? Then call it back, get that thing back here and until there is no hope whatsoever and the last nail is driven in the coffin of that dream then keep it up because now my dear friends . . .
Time has passed.
Now you can buck up buttercup (I love you M.M.!), and move onward through the fog. Along the way there will be setbacks and moments of struggle and that is all well and good, but you’ve hung your head low and contemplated your navel enough to see inside, and what beauty lies within. Life is fraught with sadness, just as it is fraught with happiness. You will lose hope and determination and drop all the spinning plates, but you can get more plates. All the seasons are beautiful, from snowstorm to sun splash.
I began this writing while wondering “is this it”? I’m not going to fill you up with a bunch of dewy crap and say “my life is wonderful and if this is it I’ll take it”! My life isn’t a musical, I’m not going to burst forth with song and dance, truth be told I hate musicals. My life has some great things in it, no doubt about it, and as M.M. and I discussed just the other day, the 21 year old version of me would look at the life I have now and find great success in at least some of it. But I want more. That’s where the question posed in the very beginning comes in; what comes from wanting more? Do you get what you want or do you get a reality inducing slap in the face? I dunno, lately it felt like a slap, but it’s still worth heeding the advice of Journey and “don’t stop believin’”. And listen my friends, it’s ok to want more. It’s ok to want more love, to want more from your job, to want more days on the mountain next Winter, and to want more out of life, there is nothing wrong with wanting all that you can handle. DON’T.STOP.BELIEVIN’.
Let’s go back to our friend, Edie and her New Bohemian buddies . . .
Everything is temporary anyway.
When the streets are wet the colors slip into the sky.
When the streets are wet the colors slip into the sky . . . and you have to look up to see them.
Chin up buttercup.
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Commodities
Now the parking lot is empty, everyone’s gone someplace.
I pick you up and in the trunk I've packed a cooler and a 2-day suitcase.
Cause there's a place we like to drive, way out in the country.
Five miles out of the city limit we’re singing, and your hand’s upon my knee
-The Indigo Girls
It is 8:00 on a Sunday night. My house is a mess, piles of laundry both done and undone surround me, the bathroom could use a going over, the kitchen as well, the scones I wanted to make remain but an idea I had on Friday, the material I bought to sew new napkins is in the closet next to the machine that has not been touched, I should have gone in to the office this weekend but didn’t, and once again at the end of a weekend I wonder how on earth one manages balance in this life. Two days a week away from work isn’t enough.
I want to be up the hill riding my snowboard, or trekking on my snowshoes. Soon I will want to hike and camp. I also want to be in town and go out to dinner, go to the symphony, go for a walk, go to the farmers market, and ride my bike. I want quiet down time to read a book or watch a movie or even, gasp, take a nap. I want to take classes, I want to use my sewing machine more, I want to cook more, I want to spend my free time doing things I love, but then who will do the laundry and pay the bills and vacuum and grocery shop? How does everyone do it? Does everyone do it? Is it merely an illusion that the rest of you have it figured out while I am grossly behind and ill equipped to manage my own life? I tell my friend, Dave, I am writing about finding balance and he gives me a knowing look. I’m astonished, he seems to have it all figured out, but maybe not? What we see on the outside is not always what is real.
It seems to all be about choices and priorities. I had a fantastic weekend and it flew by. Friday night I was out with Maura and Kim, Saturday I lollygagged around on the couch watching "Downton Abby", then went out in the snow and played, then came home with just enough time to shower and meet up with my friends for dinner, then the art gallery, then drinks. This morning I slept in, went bike shopping, and now I am on the computer. It was glorious just playing all weekend, but now I see how behind I am at work and in the details of my home. I want to read a book, it seems like so little to ask but every day is work, then exercise, then dinner and dishes and getting ready for work the next day. I’m not a morning person, I must do as much as possible the night before, and I need my 9 hours of sleep, and then the whole thing starts over again. Timing is almost crucial or the entire, precarious house of cards will blow away like so much dust in the wind.
There is work. There is play. There is rest. There is down time. There is social time. There are times when I feel like I fail spectacularly in every area. What is the worth of each? I love when I have a productive day. I sit on my couch and enjoy the splendor of my clean home, my completed laundry, my full refrigerator, the smell of something yummy in the oven, feet up on the table with a book and a drink. I feel content and peaceful. I love when I have a weekend in the great outdoors and I come home smelly and filthy and beat. I feel like I have lived my free time, not just had free time.
I have never understood people who say they wouldn’t know what to do if they didn’t work. Are you out of your fucking mind?!!!!! Forgive the vulgarity, but seriously, you couldn’t find anything to do? In this vast world of so much to do, you go to work 40 hours a week for lack of anything better? What is wrong with you?! Oh my word, the endless possibilities of what to do boggles the mind, the classes to be taken, the volunteer opportunities in which to take part, the time to spend indulgently on a hobby that you love . . . what I would give, my kingdom for more time. Alas, my kingdom does not amount to much and thus far no one has offered to trade it for more time.
Have I ever told y’all the “woot doot doot” story? I feel like maybe I have, but if I did it’s long enough ago that I can’t remember so I’ll bank on you all forgetting as well. This is my friends story, not mine, but I love it so I re-tell it often. When she was a young girl living at home her neighbors had a young son. Every single day of the summer, EVERY single day of the summer, he would get on his bike in the morning and ride it in circles on the driveway screaming “Woot doot doot! Woot doot doot”! C’mon, how great is that, now that is enjoying your free time. I love when I’m happy enough to yell out nonsense. When I am having a good run on my board I often yell “Yayayayaya”! . . . and why not, I feel great! Today when I was bike shopping I test rode a lot of bikes, nothing can make you feel the joy of youth quite like riding a bicycle, and a shiny new bike to boot. I wanted to scream “woot doot doot”!
Let’s get back to the choices and priorities part of this. My job is stressful, very, very stressful. There is no catching up, ever. The only way to catch up is to work until 10:00 every night. I won’t do it. I did for a while but I have put my foot down, I will only work painfully late once a week and I will not go in on weekends, or I will at least do my best to not go in on the weekends. My choice is to have balance and to live my life and let me tell you people, I love my life. I love going up to the mountains to play, I love staying in town to play, I love everything I do in life . . . except for house cleaning, gross . . . other than that I love everything in my life.
I don’t know how to make it all work. There are days I feel like I’m going to explode from the stress of trying to fit it all in. Add in the fact the I'm a singleton and that makes it even harder, there’s no one to help out. I was grocery shopping at 9:00 p.m. last week because after work there’s yoga, and then after yoga there’s grocery shopping, and then putting away the groceries, maybe eating something over the sink, and then washing the dishes from this morning and getting coffee set to go so all I have to do is turn the pot on in the morning. I can’t call Lucy Lulu and Delilah Jane to ask them to pick up almond milk, they’re cute but fairly useless.
As I begin to wrap this months edition up I see that I have no answer. No epiphany . No ding ding ding, you’re a winner winner chicken dinner, bell ringing. I suppose something is always sacrificed and you have to know what is most important. I need to do a good job so I can stay employed and continue to enjoy the lifestyle to which I have become accustomed. So, sacrifice work, yes but not at the expense of work. Sacrifice play time? Rarely, very, very rarely, because play is important. Sacrifice a clean house? Yes, duh. I’ll just get over it. And it can all cycle ya know; work very hard for two weeks before I take one week off of work. Take a day off of work here and there to catch up on my home life. What will I never sacrifice? My friends, family, and loved ones of course. . . never. You all come before funded loans and a clean house and a stocked fridge. I can order food in, I can pay someone else to clean the house, and funded mortgage loans . . . well, I guess I still have to go to work and fund mortgage loan, damnit, but I can choose to limit my hours and just do the best within that.
I haven’t purchased a season pass for my beloved snowboard in some years, and I have missed it greatly. My once okey dokey skills are now rusty at best. I have made a vow with the lovely Maura, we will buy passes again this fall and go up often, for fun and sanity and balance. My old bike is done and I’m buying a new one, I’ll ride it to work on Fridays. I leave work early every Thursday to get to the early yoga class, I go in to the office early on Thursdays to make up for leaving early and that part blows, I believe I mentioned not being an early bird, but I stay true blue to my early Thursdays. You gotta find ways and sometimes, you just have to say no to a clean house and give that laundry pile the Heisman. It’ll still be there when you get back, don’t worry about it.
Get out and play for gosh sakes . . . WOOT DOOT DOOT!!!!!!!
I pick you up and in the trunk I've packed a cooler and a 2-day suitcase.
Cause there's a place we like to drive, way out in the country.
Five miles out of the city limit we’re singing, and your hand’s upon my knee
-The Indigo Girls
It is 8:00 on a Sunday night. My house is a mess, piles of laundry both done and undone surround me, the bathroom could use a going over, the kitchen as well, the scones I wanted to make remain but an idea I had on Friday, the material I bought to sew new napkins is in the closet next to the machine that has not been touched, I should have gone in to the office this weekend but didn’t, and once again at the end of a weekend I wonder how on earth one manages balance in this life. Two days a week away from work isn’t enough.
I want to be up the hill riding my snowboard, or trekking on my snowshoes. Soon I will want to hike and camp. I also want to be in town and go out to dinner, go to the symphony, go for a walk, go to the farmers market, and ride my bike. I want quiet down time to read a book or watch a movie or even, gasp, take a nap. I want to take classes, I want to use my sewing machine more, I want to cook more, I want to spend my free time doing things I love, but then who will do the laundry and pay the bills and vacuum and grocery shop? How does everyone do it? Does everyone do it? Is it merely an illusion that the rest of you have it figured out while I am grossly behind and ill equipped to manage my own life? I tell my friend, Dave, I am writing about finding balance and he gives me a knowing look. I’m astonished, he seems to have it all figured out, but maybe not? What we see on the outside is not always what is real.
It seems to all be about choices and priorities. I had a fantastic weekend and it flew by. Friday night I was out with Maura and Kim, Saturday I lollygagged around on the couch watching "Downton Abby", then went out in the snow and played, then came home with just enough time to shower and meet up with my friends for dinner, then the art gallery, then drinks. This morning I slept in, went bike shopping, and now I am on the computer. It was glorious just playing all weekend, but now I see how behind I am at work and in the details of my home. I want to read a book, it seems like so little to ask but every day is work, then exercise, then dinner and dishes and getting ready for work the next day. I’m not a morning person, I must do as much as possible the night before, and I need my 9 hours of sleep, and then the whole thing starts over again. Timing is almost crucial or the entire, precarious house of cards will blow away like so much dust in the wind.
There is work. There is play. There is rest. There is down time. There is social time. There are times when I feel like I fail spectacularly in every area. What is the worth of each? I love when I have a productive day. I sit on my couch and enjoy the splendor of my clean home, my completed laundry, my full refrigerator, the smell of something yummy in the oven, feet up on the table with a book and a drink. I feel content and peaceful. I love when I have a weekend in the great outdoors and I come home smelly and filthy and beat. I feel like I have lived my free time, not just had free time.
I have never understood people who say they wouldn’t know what to do if they didn’t work. Are you out of your fucking mind?!!!!! Forgive the vulgarity, but seriously, you couldn’t find anything to do? In this vast world of so much to do, you go to work 40 hours a week for lack of anything better? What is wrong with you?! Oh my word, the endless possibilities of what to do boggles the mind, the classes to be taken, the volunteer opportunities in which to take part, the time to spend indulgently on a hobby that you love . . . what I would give, my kingdom for more time. Alas, my kingdom does not amount to much and thus far no one has offered to trade it for more time.
Have I ever told y’all the “woot doot doot” story? I feel like maybe I have, but if I did it’s long enough ago that I can’t remember so I’ll bank on you all forgetting as well. This is my friends story, not mine, but I love it so I re-tell it often. When she was a young girl living at home her neighbors had a young son. Every single day of the summer, EVERY single day of the summer, he would get on his bike in the morning and ride it in circles on the driveway screaming “Woot doot doot! Woot doot doot”! C’mon, how great is that, now that is enjoying your free time. I love when I’m happy enough to yell out nonsense. When I am having a good run on my board I often yell “Yayayayaya”! . . . and why not, I feel great! Today when I was bike shopping I test rode a lot of bikes, nothing can make you feel the joy of youth quite like riding a bicycle, and a shiny new bike to boot. I wanted to scream “woot doot doot”!
Let’s get back to the choices and priorities part of this. My job is stressful, very, very stressful. There is no catching up, ever. The only way to catch up is to work until 10:00 every night. I won’t do it. I did for a while but I have put my foot down, I will only work painfully late once a week and I will not go in on weekends, or I will at least do my best to not go in on the weekends. My choice is to have balance and to live my life and let me tell you people, I love my life. I love going up to the mountains to play, I love staying in town to play, I love everything I do in life . . . except for house cleaning, gross . . . other than that I love everything in my life.
I don’t know how to make it all work. There are days I feel like I’m going to explode from the stress of trying to fit it all in. Add in the fact the I'm a singleton and that makes it even harder, there’s no one to help out. I was grocery shopping at 9:00 p.m. last week because after work there’s yoga, and then after yoga there’s grocery shopping, and then putting away the groceries, maybe eating something over the sink, and then washing the dishes from this morning and getting coffee set to go so all I have to do is turn the pot on in the morning. I can’t call Lucy Lulu and Delilah Jane to ask them to pick up almond milk, they’re cute but fairly useless.
As I begin to wrap this months edition up I see that I have no answer. No epiphany . No ding ding ding, you’re a winner winner chicken dinner, bell ringing. I suppose something is always sacrificed and you have to know what is most important. I need to do a good job so I can stay employed and continue to enjoy the lifestyle to which I have become accustomed. So, sacrifice work, yes but not at the expense of work. Sacrifice play time? Rarely, very, very rarely, because play is important. Sacrifice a clean house? Yes, duh. I’ll just get over it. And it can all cycle ya know; work very hard for two weeks before I take one week off of work. Take a day off of work here and there to catch up on my home life. What will I never sacrifice? My friends, family, and loved ones of course. . . never. You all come before funded loans and a clean house and a stocked fridge. I can order food in, I can pay someone else to clean the house, and funded mortgage loans . . . well, I guess I still have to go to work and fund mortgage loan, damnit, but I can choose to limit my hours and just do the best within that.
I haven’t purchased a season pass for my beloved snowboard in some years, and I have missed it greatly. My once okey dokey skills are now rusty at best. I have made a vow with the lovely Maura, we will buy passes again this fall and go up often, for fun and sanity and balance. My old bike is done and I’m buying a new one, I’ll ride it to work on Fridays. I leave work early every Thursday to get to the early yoga class, I go in to the office early on Thursdays to make up for leaving early and that part blows, I believe I mentioned not being an early bird, but I stay true blue to my early Thursdays. You gotta find ways and sometimes, you just have to say no to a clean house and give that laundry pile the Heisman. It’ll still be there when you get back, don’t worry about it.
Get out and play for gosh sakes . . . WOOT DOOT DOOT!!!!!!!
Friday, February 22, 2013
Kate
Happiness runs in a circular motion. Thought is like a little boat upon the sea. Everybody is a part of everything anyway. You can have everything if you let yourself be.
-Donovan
You want a thing. Oh man how you want a thing. You envision it, you dream about it, you imagine how great your life will be when you get it, oh my gosh you want that thing.
And then you don’t get it.
Pppphhhhhlllllllbbbbtttttt. Two thumbs down. Call the wah wah wahmbulance. Story as old as time, eh? And then you do the whole "if it was meant to be . . . if was right it woulda coulda shoulda, blah blah blah". Yeah, it is an old story, and it’s boring. But how ‘bout this, you want a thing. Oh man how you want a thing. You envision it, you dream about it, you imagine how great your life will be when you get it, oh my gosh you want that thing.
And then, you do get it.
What the . . .? Now what? What on earth will I bitch about? When I go to brunch with the girls what the hell will I talk about? People are funny creatures, aren’t we? What is it about being happy that’s harder to talk about than being unhappy?
Beauty Queen : “How was your week?”
Drama Queen : “Oh.my.gawd., my butt is so big. I got new jeans and I look terrible in them. My boss is a total jackass, they don’t realize how blessed they are to have me, they’re lucky I don’t walk out. I went out for sushi last night with Brad Pitt and he was looking at another girl the whole time. He’s called like 18 times this morning, but I’m not answering, he’s going to have to do better than that, I mean c’mon, flowers please? And my mother, puhleaze, don’t get me started. I broke a nail and my hair is full of split ends. My life is in ruins! How was your week?”
Beauty Queen: “I had a great week! I got those new boots I’ve been thinking about. The book I had reserved at the library came in and so far I love it. I’m looking forward to getting my golf clubs out and practicing my swing.”
Drama Queen: “Oh.”
See? Not much to talk about with Queenie.
Paintings, song lyrics, poems, books, sculptures, dances, are all created from pain. They are certainly created from joy as well, I would not want to exclude Beethoven’s “Ode To Joy” or Elizabeth Barrett Brownings beautiful poems of love from the list of truly inspired works of art, but mostly we think about our gut being eviscerated as a catalyst for art. And pain is so much more glamorous, right? Pain and martyrdom are oh so cool.
I wonder if we feel some small measure of guilt. Your friend is bitching and all you have are good things to say, just makes ya clam up. It’s tough to say happy things to an Eeyore, nothing’s ever good enough, and that gets tiring. And what kind of creepy peep says “Yeah, that sucks for you, but I got the high score on Galaga! Yay!”
When we get what we want it’s almost hard to believe sometimes. So hard to believe that we don’t believe, or don’t believe ourselves worthy, or don’t trust that it really is what we want. Ever met anyone who sabotages the good things in life? Sure ya have, I swear it’s harder for people to just settle in and be happy. When you’re happy your mind can be at rest. Your heart can be at peace and we don’t always feel comfortable with the calm space that brings. It’s a shame, isn’t it? A shame that we can’t believe we deserve such grace and goodness and then just sit and let the calm and surrender waft over us like eider down on a winter day. You want a potato, you get a potato, and then you drop it like it’s hot, “Goddamn it who gave me that f-wording potato?! Who would do that?!”
So then we focus on what we didn’t get, or we focus on the bad part of what we did get; chocolate cake? Yay for chocolate cake! Chocolate cake? Boo for calories. For cryin’ out loud just eat the cake, it’s yummy. Have your cake and eat it too.
I have a friend I’ll call Kate . . . because that’s her name. Kate lives a life so full of great things. I look at Kate and I marvel at her constant happiness, and her belief in her happiness. Kate knows her value and she never feels guilty about the great things that come her way. She never gloats about good things in her life, she never hides good things, she just lives a life she loves. Kate lives in the moment and embraces everything that comes her way. She goes on great trips, she goes to see great bands, she has a really cute pair of brown boots that I love, and she is about to marry such a great guy who completely loves her. Kate does not question for a second that she deserves happiness, and happiness has found her and blessed her because happiness has a home with her. Happiness is welcome in Kate’s world. If you were happiness, wouldn’t you want to go somewhere that welcomes and embraces you? You would probably avoid places that don’t have faith in you and kick you to the curb. I would. I hate being kicked to the curb.
Oh my friends, ya gotta want it! And then, then, ya gotta love it and own it and raise the roof and can I get a “Hell yeah”?!
Chocolate cake rules. Taking a day off in the middle of the week to chase the snow rules. Having a job (even a job you don’t love) rules because then you can pay your bills and take a day off and buy boots and get pedicures.
So listen, when you get what you want, don’t be scared. It’s not a big scary monster with gnashing teeth waiting to bite you, it’s something awesome. Love it. When you find the perfect jeans buy them. When you get perfect weather CALL IN HAPPY and take the day off, life is too short to work all the time. When you get a promotion know you deserve it and others have enough faith in you to see it. When you finally save enough money for vacation don’t spend your fun money on an extra car payment, bleck. Your car and its accompanying payment will be here when you get back, go on vacation. When you meet that special person, and you can’t believe your luck, believe it, because it’s not luck, it’s life giving you a big ol’ hug. A real hug, not a choke hold, a hug to let you know what a marvelous and wondrous creature you are, and you deserve all the happiness you are willing to accept.
And stop messing things up just so you can have brunch stories. You can still have brunch stories, you’ll just have to learn to tell happy stories instead.
We all deserve happiness, and happiness wants to be treated well so be a gracious host and invite her (or him) to come on in and stay a while.
Blessings y’all!
-Donovan
You want a thing. Oh man how you want a thing. You envision it, you dream about it, you imagine how great your life will be when you get it, oh my gosh you want that thing.
And then you don’t get it.
Pppphhhhhlllllllbbbbtttttt. Two thumbs down. Call the wah wah wahmbulance. Story as old as time, eh? And then you do the whole "if it was meant to be . . . if was right it woulda coulda shoulda, blah blah blah". Yeah, it is an old story, and it’s boring. But how ‘bout this, you want a thing. Oh man how you want a thing. You envision it, you dream about it, you imagine how great your life will be when you get it, oh my gosh you want that thing.
And then, you do get it.
What the . . .? Now what? What on earth will I bitch about? When I go to brunch with the girls what the hell will I talk about? People are funny creatures, aren’t we? What is it about being happy that’s harder to talk about than being unhappy?
Beauty Queen : “How was your week?”
Drama Queen : “Oh.my.gawd., my butt is so big. I got new jeans and I look terrible in them. My boss is a total jackass, they don’t realize how blessed they are to have me, they’re lucky I don’t walk out. I went out for sushi last night with Brad Pitt and he was looking at another girl the whole time. He’s called like 18 times this morning, but I’m not answering, he’s going to have to do better than that, I mean c’mon, flowers please? And my mother, puhleaze, don’t get me started. I broke a nail and my hair is full of split ends. My life is in ruins! How was your week?”
Beauty Queen: “I had a great week! I got those new boots I’ve been thinking about. The book I had reserved at the library came in and so far I love it. I’m looking forward to getting my golf clubs out and practicing my swing.”
Drama Queen: “Oh.”
See? Not much to talk about with Queenie.
Paintings, song lyrics, poems, books, sculptures, dances, are all created from pain. They are certainly created from joy as well, I would not want to exclude Beethoven’s “Ode To Joy” or Elizabeth Barrett Brownings beautiful poems of love from the list of truly inspired works of art, but mostly we think about our gut being eviscerated as a catalyst for art. And pain is so much more glamorous, right? Pain and martyrdom are oh so cool.
I wonder if we feel some small measure of guilt. Your friend is bitching and all you have are good things to say, just makes ya clam up. It’s tough to say happy things to an Eeyore, nothing’s ever good enough, and that gets tiring. And what kind of creepy peep says “Yeah, that sucks for you, but I got the high score on Galaga! Yay!”
When we get what we want it’s almost hard to believe sometimes. So hard to believe that we don’t believe, or don’t believe ourselves worthy, or don’t trust that it really is what we want. Ever met anyone who sabotages the good things in life? Sure ya have, I swear it’s harder for people to just settle in and be happy. When you’re happy your mind can be at rest. Your heart can be at peace and we don’t always feel comfortable with the calm space that brings. It’s a shame, isn’t it? A shame that we can’t believe we deserve such grace and goodness and then just sit and let the calm and surrender waft over us like eider down on a winter day. You want a potato, you get a potato, and then you drop it like it’s hot, “Goddamn it who gave me that f-wording potato?! Who would do that?!”
So then we focus on what we didn’t get, or we focus on the bad part of what we did get; chocolate cake? Yay for chocolate cake! Chocolate cake? Boo for calories. For cryin’ out loud just eat the cake, it’s yummy. Have your cake and eat it too.
I have a friend I’ll call Kate . . . because that’s her name. Kate lives a life so full of great things. I look at Kate and I marvel at her constant happiness, and her belief in her happiness. Kate knows her value and she never feels guilty about the great things that come her way. She never gloats about good things in her life, she never hides good things, she just lives a life she loves. Kate lives in the moment and embraces everything that comes her way. She goes on great trips, she goes to see great bands, she has a really cute pair of brown boots that I love, and she is about to marry such a great guy who completely loves her. Kate does not question for a second that she deserves happiness, and happiness has found her and blessed her because happiness has a home with her. Happiness is welcome in Kate’s world. If you were happiness, wouldn’t you want to go somewhere that welcomes and embraces you? You would probably avoid places that don’t have faith in you and kick you to the curb. I would. I hate being kicked to the curb.
Oh my friends, ya gotta want it! And then, then, ya gotta love it and own it and raise the roof and can I get a “Hell yeah”?!
Chocolate cake rules. Taking a day off in the middle of the week to chase the snow rules. Having a job (even a job you don’t love) rules because then you can pay your bills and take a day off and buy boots and get pedicures.
So listen, when you get what you want, don’t be scared. It’s not a big scary monster with gnashing teeth waiting to bite you, it’s something awesome. Love it. When you find the perfect jeans buy them. When you get perfect weather CALL IN HAPPY and take the day off, life is too short to work all the time. When you get a promotion know you deserve it and others have enough faith in you to see it. When you finally save enough money for vacation don’t spend your fun money on an extra car payment, bleck. Your car and its accompanying payment will be here when you get back, go on vacation. When you meet that special person, and you can’t believe your luck, believe it, because it’s not luck, it’s life giving you a big ol’ hug. A real hug, not a choke hold, a hug to let you know what a marvelous and wondrous creature you are, and you deserve all the happiness you are willing to accept.
And stop messing things up just so you can have brunch stories. You can still have brunch stories, you’ll just have to learn to tell happy stories instead.
We all deserve happiness, and happiness wants to be treated well so be a gracious host and invite her (or him) to come on in and stay a while.
Blessings y’all!
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