Sunday, September 20, 2009
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Quotes
"The ties that strangle us, which we call love. Because the loosening of these ties he became, with all the attendant pain of such becoming, free. But love is what we want, not freedom. Who then is the unluckier man? The beloved, who is given his heart's desire and must for ever after fear its loss, or the free man, with his unlooked for liberty, naked and alone between the captive armies of the earth?"
- The Ground Beneath Her Feet, Salman Rushdie.
- The Ground Beneath Her Feet, Salman Rushdie.
My Story 1
Two young girls sat on the old, brown couch dressed up on a weekday afternoon. We were doing less sitting and more squirming within twenty minutes. My mom had prepared us, at least in attire, for my fathers arrival. Several nights before during “his weekend” I remember sitting on my bed as he told my sister and I our great grandmother had died. It was the first time I had seen my dad cry. Now we were waiting for him to come take us to the funeral.
Waiting and waiting and waiting in fact. After half an hour had past from my dads expected entrance my mom finally let us off the couch and pull out our Polly Pockets. Initially we were only able to bring out one. My mom had watched children for many years and understood that more than twenty minutes of asking them to sit still and not wrinkle dresses, without anything else to occupy them, was beyond reason. Allowed one toy, my sister and I grew distracted.
I had never been to a funeral before. The weekday afternoon was not one that was traditionally my dads. He came every other weekend and every other Thursday. This was not one of those days. We rarely dressed up. In general the whole afternoon was set apart for an hour or so while we waited to see what would happened.
Time passed. We had been waiting for more than an hour, begging Mom to let us drag out our other toys and added to the miniaturized world of Polly. We enjoyed setting up whole towns in circles around us and disappearing into the roles of the little girl with all the interesting things to do and places to see. Polly’s world was there at the ready, all Mom had to do was okay our departure.
The moment she agreed to our living room take over it was like accepting defeat. He would not be coming. Promises and plans that had been made were broken. Expectations and new wonders about unlived experiences were delayed. Dad wouldn’t be there, the waste of time waiting, of preparing our clothing, of trying to keep the dirt and wrinkles from our dresses was futile. There was nothing special about the afternoon except that our routine had been broken, we were almost given the chance to look past our day to day worlds in the strict customary schedules we followed, and then we weren’t, and life went on for us girls.
It should probably be said, life didn’t go on so easily for mom. She was tired by the end of the day. Sadness and rage seemed to push toward the top after plans changed by my dad, in particular without a word from him. It hurt her, she would rant a bit about it, maybe step into the kitchen and cry, or just wear the look of a worn, older woman. She had no Polly Pockets to play with and wouldn’t take ours.
Waiting and waiting and waiting in fact. After half an hour had past from my dads expected entrance my mom finally let us off the couch and pull out our Polly Pockets. Initially we were only able to bring out one. My mom had watched children for many years and understood that more than twenty minutes of asking them to sit still and not wrinkle dresses, without anything else to occupy them, was beyond reason. Allowed one toy, my sister and I grew distracted.
I had never been to a funeral before. The weekday afternoon was not one that was traditionally my dads. He came every other weekend and every other Thursday. This was not one of those days. We rarely dressed up. In general the whole afternoon was set apart for an hour or so while we waited to see what would happened.
Time passed. We had been waiting for more than an hour, begging Mom to let us drag out our other toys and added to the miniaturized world of Polly. We enjoyed setting up whole towns in circles around us and disappearing into the roles of the little girl with all the interesting things to do and places to see. Polly’s world was there at the ready, all Mom had to do was okay our departure.
The moment she agreed to our living room take over it was like accepting defeat. He would not be coming. Promises and plans that had been made were broken. Expectations and new wonders about unlived experiences were delayed. Dad wouldn’t be there, the waste of time waiting, of preparing our clothing, of trying to keep the dirt and wrinkles from our dresses was futile. There was nothing special about the afternoon except that our routine had been broken, we were almost given the chance to look past our day to day worlds in the strict customary schedules we followed, and then we weren’t, and life went on for us girls.
It should probably be said, life didn’t go on so easily for mom. She was tired by the end of the day. Sadness and rage seemed to push toward the top after plans changed by my dad, in particular without a word from him. It hurt her, she would rant a bit about it, maybe step into the kitchen and cry, or just wear the look of a worn, older woman. She had no Polly Pockets to play with and wouldn’t take ours.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
The Correct Response
This is a combination of a dancing update and a question on how to react to others.
Tonight was dance class. On Sunday night I practiced dancing. Honestly I did a combination of practice and playing around, but I did practice. Finding where to put my feet and when seems to be a challenge for me. I counted the steps and I played around until I felt a little bit better about everything. It was fun and exciting and I enjoyed myself a lot in the privacy of my own apartment. Then I got to dance class. The teacher had me help out last week, this week I was almost his only "helper".
I tried to do everything right, everyone was watching, everyone was trying to learn and I was supposed to be an example. While managed to control the blushing a bit, I still felt awkward. The class was nearly full of beginners, translating into mostly strangers, even more than the old mostly strangers. The teacher was nice to me and didn't point out my shortcomings in front of the class like I feared he might. Looking back I wish he had.
This class was the first class to be uneven. There were more females than males meaning somebody had to dance with the teacher. I spent the first few dances with a wonderful and humorous elderly man who kidded about how tense and nervous he was, his jokes and uncertainty was relaxing for me. Then the teacher told me he was going to dance with me instead, "Because you need work. Just kidding." Commence dancing. Some place between there and the first dance in front of the class where he told me I did excellent I became confused.
We switched partners later again later. My old partner actually requested to have me back for a few dances, which was nice and means he doesn't hate me like I thought he might. Or maybe he was just more comfortable with me than the larger, towering woman in heels who joined the class and became his partner tonight. I assisted in showing a few new steps to the class, as in steps that were new to all of us not just the first timers. Then I danced with another guy who had been to the previous two classes. A bit more dancing and we all left.
On my way out I thanked a few of my partners near by for the dance. The last man I danced with I said, "See you next week!" to, he response (I think) "Yeah, practice some before then." Which of course may have been "I"ll practice some before then" or "You should practice some before then." or "We can all get some practice in before then."
Here is where the question of the correct response comes in: how should I feel about the evening? There is a defensive part of me that is shouting, "But I'm trying! And I just came to have fun! And no one is perfect! And this is a beginners class and I don't know exactly what I'm doing wrong!" Of course there a lots of variations on that but you get the idea. Another side tries to be reasonable and says that he may have said any of those other things. There's no reason to get worked up. However, worked up I am.
When people say things to me they run deep. The book Jess suggested talks about naming people and the importance of those names. I allow everyone to name me, even the man tonight who's name I don't know. How should we deal with the words others give us to define ourselves? Both good and bad things said about me I have always struggled with, I become what you call me. "Be careful how you define me," I tell my loved ones, "I will become whatever it is you do."
That doesn't seem like the appropriate response though. Walking away and ignoring others doesn't either. How are we to be defined outside of our community? My dancing has very little meaning outside of a partner, a culture, a time period. I need these things for the character of me to play in, and therefore they shape and define me, shouldn't I pay attention to how my character is perceived? If I do simply ignore comments made about how others see me with what objective tools can I develop a sense of self?
So when I prepare for dance class next week, because the idea of walking away in shame is not one I can choose, do I spend extra time trying harder and harder to prove myself worthy to a name that I fear may have been given to me? Do I harden my heart to the comments and dismiss them over and over while I over think the situation, as I am almost certain to do? Do I become angry? Devalue myself as a dancer? Do I accept that I have no skill and therefore should not attempt it again after this course? How do I move forward after being named?
Please apply this to hundreds of themes, people, and ideas over the course of any given week. It's not just a dance, it's a life.
Tonight was dance class. On Sunday night I practiced dancing. Honestly I did a combination of practice and playing around, but I did practice. Finding where to put my feet and when seems to be a challenge for me. I counted the steps and I played around until I felt a little bit better about everything. It was fun and exciting and I enjoyed myself a lot in the privacy of my own apartment. Then I got to dance class. The teacher had me help out last week, this week I was almost his only "helper".
I tried to do everything right, everyone was watching, everyone was trying to learn and I was supposed to be an example. While managed to control the blushing a bit, I still felt awkward. The class was nearly full of beginners, translating into mostly strangers, even more than the old mostly strangers. The teacher was nice to me and didn't point out my shortcomings in front of the class like I feared he might. Looking back I wish he had.
This class was the first class to be uneven. There were more females than males meaning somebody had to dance with the teacher. I spent the first few dances with a wonderful and humorous elderly man who kidded about how tense and nervous he was, his jokes and uncertainty was relaxing for me. Then the teacher told me he was going to dance with me instead, "Because you need work. Just kidding." Commence dancing. Some place between there and the first dance in front of the class where he told me I did excellent I became confused.
We switched partners later again later. My old partner actually requested to have me back for a few dances, which was nice and means he doesn't hate me like I thought he might. Or maybe he was just more comfortable with me than the larger, towering woman in heels who joined the class and became his partner tonight. I assisted in showing a few new steps to the class, as in steps that were new to all of us not just the first timers. Then I danced with another guy who had been to the previous two classes. A bit more dancing and we all left.
On my way out I thanked a few of my partners near by for the dance. The last man I danced with I said, "See you next week!" to, he response (I think) "Yeah, practice some before then." Which of course may have been "I"ll practice some before then" or "You should practice some before then." or "We can all get some practice in before then."
Here is where the question of the correct response comes in: how should I feel about the evening? There is a defensive part of me that is shouting, "But I'm trying! And I just came to have fun! And no one is perfect! And this is a beginners class and I don't know exactly what I'm doing wrong!" Of course there a lots of variations on that but you get the idea. Another side tries to be reasonable and says that he may have said any of those other things. There's no reason to get worked up. However, worked up I am.
When people say things to me they run deep. The book Jess suggested talks about naming people and the importance of those names. I allow everyone to name me, even the man tonight who's name I don't know. How should we deal with the words others give us to define ourselves? Both good and bad things said about me I have always struggled with, I become what you call me. "Be careful how you define me," I tell my loved ones, "I will become whatever it is you do."
That doesn't seem like the appropriate response though. Walking away and ignoring others doesn't either. How are we to be defined outside of our community? My dancing has very little meaning outside of a partner, a culture, a time period. I need these things for the character of me to play in, and therefore they shape and define me, shouldn't I pay attention to how my character is perceived? If I do simply ignore comments made about how others see me with what objective tools can I develop a sense of self?
So when I prepare for dance class next week, because the idea of walking away in shame is not one I can choose, do I spend extra time trying harder and harder to prove myself worthy to a name that I fear may have been given to me? Do I harden my heart to the comments and dismiss them over and over while I over think the situation, as I am almost certain to do? Do I become angry? Devalue myself as a dancer? Do I accept that I have no skill and therefore should not attempt it again after this course? How do I move forward after being named?
Please apply this to hundreds of themes, people, and ideas over the course of any given week. It's not just a dance, it's a life.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Sports New
This morning I tried to turn the radio to a station I used to regularly listen to and it had changed to sports news. I left the dial to espn and continued to work while they babbled about baseball and football. For eight hours I listened to a culture to which I am basically a stranger.It isn't that I don't understand sports, for the most part I do, I simply have never followed them. I know how many innings are in a baseball game, I understand the basics of football (though I never excelled at keeping score), and I can keep straight where most of the teams are from. However I barely know the most famous of players and have never remembered, or learned for that matter, the stats that keep many men interested in their favorite teams and players.
So I learned some interesting things today. The men on the radio talked a lot about their childhoods, about sports history, about the future of their industry. They were excited about what was to come in the NFL season. The tempo of the day was racing. Maybe it always has that hyped up element, maybe it was more so because it was a seasons opening day.
One of the former champs was talking about the importance of seeing each season for itself. He said that no matter what a team did to have the winning season the year before they needed to remember that each season was journey all its own. Every year must stand completely alone. A team can't go back and play the same game they did last year, the past is the past and each journey is completely different. New elements must be added, new skills learned, new stratgies discovered. Each team must adapt to the needs of this new journey.
I took away a life lesson. We can't expect to keep reliving our old ways of doing things. No matter how grand the past was, to reach success again we must stop reliving old glories and strive for a completely new kind of glory. Every stage of life can only be conqured when we remember that it is a different journey for a different reason.
This season isn't about learning the same lessons I did last season, it's about building on to the journey I've already had and changing in new ways. This brings me both hope and sorrow. Getting comfortable is never an option. Which sucks. But it means that I don't have to rely on parts of me that are used up and have been smashed to pieces. If I played basketball, for example, just because I can no longer dunk the ball doesn't mean my game is ruined, instead it give me an edge. Every other team would expect me to keep trying to dunk, what if instead I because an amazing defensive player? Or what if I set up other players on the court so they could excel? What if I changed it all and ended up adding more than the obvious to the game?
This feels a bit cheap. In fact, looking back at the last few days I feel a little like I've been struggling with the moral of the story and looking for an easy one. Maybe that's because an easy moral to all of this might make the pain and easier pill to swollow. Maybe there really are a few worthwhile moral of the story kinds of lessons to be learned. Maybe I've been drowning in a self-help binge after a self-destruction one. Give me sometime, maybe I'll go deeper.
For now I'm just picking up on a few parts of living that I have barely any experience in, like sports new.
So I learned some interesting things today. The men on the radio talked a lot about their childhoods, about sports history, about the future of their industry. They were excited about what was to come in the NFL season. The tempo of the day was racing. Maybe it always has that hyped up element, maybe it was more so because it was a seasons opening day.
One of the former champs was talking about the importance of seeing each season for itself. He said that no matter what a team did to have the winning season the year before they needed to remember that each season was journey all its own. Every year must stand completely alone. A team can't go back and play the same game they did last year, the past is the past and each journey is completely different. New elements must be added, new skills learned, new stratgies discovered. Each team must adapt to the needs of this new journey.
I took away a life lesson. We can't expect to keep reliving our old ways of doing things. No matter how grand the past was, to reach success again we must stop reliving old glories and strive for a completely new kind of glory. Every stage of life can only be conqured when we remember that it is a different journey for a different reason.
This season isn't about learning the same lessons I did last season, it's about building on to the journey I've already had and changing in new ways. This brings me both hope and sorrow. Getting comfortable is never an option. Which sucks. But it means that I don't have to rely on parts of me that are used up and have been smashed to pieces. If I played basketball, for example, just because I can no longer dunk the ball doesn't mean my game is ruined, instead it give me an edge. Every other team would expect me to keep trying to dunk, what if instead I because an amazing defensive player? Or what if I set up other players on the court so they could excel? What if I changed it all and ended up adding more than the obvious to the game?
This feels a bit cheap. In fact, looking back at the last few days I feel a little like I've been struggling with the moral of the story and looking for an easy one. Maybe that's because an easy moral to all of this might make the pain and easier pill to swollow. Maybe there really are a few worthwhile moral of the story kinds of lessons to be learned. Maybe I've been drowning in a self-help binge after a self-destruction one. Give me sometime, maybe I'll go deeper.
For now I'm just picking up on a few parts of living that I have barely any experience in, like sports new.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
On Being Loved
Officially, on facebook status, I'm single. I am a single individual beating my chest against the world daring it to take me on. Unofficially I am part of a million loose connections of people who probably wouldn't mention me as part of the "people of their life" stories but still have regular and important interactions with, even if it is only by chance.
Being "alone" allows me to be with lots of other people. When I say that I don't mean I get to go home with a different guy every night, I mean that I get to appreciate the small parts of the loose interactions so much more. Little moments become much larger. For example, one of the things I enjoy most about dancing is that it allows for touching that is restrictive enough for me to allow but still a physical gesture of closeness. Small touches from others are surprisingly encouraging when I can convince myself to accept them as only that. Likewise, a shared love of a style of writing brings a smile to my face that I remember on the drive home. A near stranger who shouts "Why have we never talked about this before! I like you so much now!" brightens my evening. There is a heart stopping lurch when a co-worker says "I love you." Knowing that it's true, maybe even on several levels, allows for mixed feelings of gratitude and tension.
When I had someone to come home to every night, when there was the promise that someone would care about my day and would reinforce who I was, these moments went by unnoticed. Other people were less relevant. Now I can experience a greater range of love and because I notice it in others I feel I can better give, if not love, at least care and consideration to the people I live in these loose communities with.
It was just a day, but a facebook message, a missed call, a text sent, and a handful of conversations and hugs were more than enough to make it bareable. This is what I need to remember in the mornings when I hate myself for draging a nearly lifeless body from bed and forcing it out into, what feels like, an unforgiving and cold world.
Being "alone" allows me to be with lots of other people. When I say that I don't mean I get to go home with a different guy every night, I mean that I get to appreciate the small parts of the loose interactions so much more. Little moments become much larger. For example, one of the things I enjoy most about dancing is that it allows for touching that is restrictive enough for me to allow but still a physical gesture of closeness. Small touches from others are surprisingly encouraging when I can convince myself to accept them as only that. Likewise, a shared love of a style of writing brings a smile to my face that I remember on the drive home. A near stranger who shouts "Why have we never talked about this before! I like you so much now!" brightens my evening. There is a heart stopping lurch when a co-worker says "I love you." Knowing that it's true, maybe even on several levels, allows for mixed feelings of gratitude and tension.
When I had someone to come home to every night, when there was the promise that someone would care about my day and would reinforce who I was, these moments went by unnoticed. Other people were less relevant. Now I can experience a greater range of love and because I notice it in others I feel I can better give, if not love, at least care and consideration to the people I live in these loose communities with.
It was just a day, but a facebook message, a missed call, a text sent, and a handful of conversations and hugs were more than enough to make it bareable. This is what I need to remember in the mornings when I hate myself for draging a nearly lifeless body from bed and forcing it out into, what feels like, an unforgiving and cold world.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Seeing Today
I tend to over think things. Pretty much everything. In fact, on Sunday one of my co-workers asked me if I over think things and told me I should stop. After she left, I over thought that comment for the better part of the next hour. I do have these kinds of issues.
That's why I'm attempting to spend more time looking at where I am. At age 24 I struggle with my past and reconciling it to my belief structure, who I am, how the world should be, what relationships look like, all of these are things that bog me down with questions about the past and what it means now. The future is an empty terrifying whiteness. A blank page stares at me and dares me to write in black permanent marker. Somewhere between these two challenges lives me. Scary, right?
Anyways, today is where they met. To avoid over thinking on topics which my mind finds overwhelming I'm going to try to meet the scary parts at a place where the rubber meets the road, today.
What did I do today you might ask? (Actually you probably don't care but there isn't a boyfriend or best friend calling me every night to ask about my day and so the internet gets another drab blog, you'll deal I'm sure. )
Today I went to work at my office job. I remembered while I worked today why it is I chose that job. Career wise I am where I am for a reason. I left a job that I hated, not to find a job that I loved, but instead to find a sense of stability. Craziness was constantly assaulting me day after day both in work and in my personal life before I took this office job. Maybe it sounds silly but my self worth was, and to an extent still is, tied to how well I preform at work. In retail this is something that can often be measured on a daily basis, if you're having a bad day you know it. It's also incredibly difficult to leave who you are at home at the door of your store. This has been especially true for me at the places where I love the people I work with the most. I was struggling to balance my personal life and my work life and often they were colliding and doing serious damage to my self esteem. It was challenging to separate them and develop ways of interacting with the world outside of my job because of the ever changing schedule. A change was needed.
Now I work in a place where I have the same hours nearly every week. I can count on the same day more or less every day (even though it never is) and the people I work with support me and uplift me in a way that doesn't intrude on my personal life so dramatically. They allow me to share what I want or need to with them but never enter into my world without express permission. I often leave work feeling uplifted and both named worthwhile and protected. It's not a glamorous job, not one that I want to keep forever, but the perfect fit while I struggle through this confusing time for me.
After work I came home and began rearranging my apartment. This is a trick I learned from my mom as a child. Cleaning the house is not a fun task, make it more fun by completely remaking the kind of home you live in. This of course requires serious deep cleaning and often letting go of lots of possessions. That is what I needed tonight though. I moved my giant desk into the living room and started trying to make it more "stranger accessible."
Less than an hour later I went off to dance class leaving the house in obvious disarray. The class size had doubled since last week. The moves were much more complicated but everyone was wonderfully nice. I was so grateful to the older women who were welcoming and chatted with me. This became even more true after the instructor asked me to assist him in showing the class several steps over the course of the night. I was awkward but tried hard and smiled welcoming the challenge but more than a little nervous. After class ended some of the other folks in it said they looked forward to seeing me next week. It was nice to be remembered and wanted.
I returned home and finished some of my cleaning. My world isn't perfectly ordered but I have been able to let go of some things, bit by bit, that hold me to an older lifestyle. Tonight I took a mega block set that my exboyfriend had given to me as a gift for a romantic holiday over to the neighbor. He has two boys that are younger and might enjoy the huge set worth nearly $40. Now I have more space and have severed yet another tie to my past. It's not easy seeing everything though. There are photos I came across of us kissing, spending time together, and having fun. Memories of what it means to be loved flood back in. This is the challenge: to let go of something I can no longer hold and have faith that some day there will be something more than weak memories of a lover I don't have. Shouldn't be hard right?
So that's today. My bridge from yesterday to tomorrow. I had many joys and many sorrows but my day was completely real. All the emotions and struggles, tensions and trials, all the raw moments and astonishing joy, it wasn't from the television or a second hand story, I didn't see a movie or read the paper, I lived my life, today, even though it was scary to write it out, I guess we all manage some how.
That's why I'm attempting to spend more time looking at where I am. At age 24 I struggle with my past and reconciling it to my belief structure, who I am, how the world should be, what relationships look like, all of these are things that bog me down with questions about the past and what it means now. The future is an empty terrifying whiteness. A blank page stares at me and dares me to write in black permanent marker. Somewhere between these two challenges lives me. Scary, right?
Anyways, today is where they met. To avoid over thinking on topics which my mind finds overwhelming I'm going to try to meet the scary parts at a place where the rubber meets the road, today.
What did I do today you might ask? (Actually you probably don't care but there isn't a boyfriend or best friend calling me every night to ask about my day and so the internet gets another drab blog, you'll deal I'm sure. )
Today I went to work at my office job. I remembered while I worked today why it is I chose that job. Career wise I am where I am for a reason. I left a job that I hated, not to find a job that I loved, but instead to find a sense of stability. Craziness was constantly assaulting me day after day both in work and in my personal life before I took this office job. Maybe it sounds silly but my self worth was, and to an extent still is, tied to how well I preform at work. In retail this is something that can often be measured on a daily basis, if you're having a bad day you know it. It's also incredibly difficult to leave who you are at home at the door of your store. This has been especially true for me at the places where I love the people I work with the most. I was struggling to balance my personal life and my work life and often they were colliding and doing serious damage to my self esteem. It was challenging to separate them and develop ways of interacting with the world outside of my job because of the ever changing schedule. A change was needed.
Now I work in a place where I have the same hours nearly every week. I can count on the same day more or less every day (even though it never is) and the people I work with support me and uplift me in a way that doesn't intrude on my personal life so dramatically. They allow me to share what I want or need to with them but never enter into my world without express permission. I often leave work feeling uplifted and both named worthwhile and protected. It's not a glamorous job, not one that I want to keep forever, but the perfect fit while I struggle through this confusing time for me.
After work I came home and began rearranging my apartment. This is a trick I learned from my mom as a child. Cleaning the house is not a fun task, make it more fun by completely remaking the kind of home you live in. This of course requires serious deep cleaning and often letting go of lots of possessions. That is what I needed tonight though. I moved my giant desk into the living room and started trying to make it more "stranger accessible."
Less than an hour later I went off to dance class leaving the house in obvious disarray. The class size had doubled since last week. The moves were much more complicated but everyone was wonderfully nice. I was so grateful to the older women who were welcoming and chatted with me. This became even more true after the instructor asked me to assist him in showing the class several steps over the course of the night. I was awkward but tried hard and smiled welcoming the challenge but more than a little nervous. After class ended some of the other folks in it said they looked forward to seeing me next week. It was nice to be remembered and wanted.
I returned home and finished some of my cleaning. My world isn't perfectly ordered but I have been able to let go of some things, bit by bit, that hold me to an older lifestyle. Tonight I took a mega block set that my exboyfriend had given to me as a gift for a romantic holiday over to the neighbor. He has two boys that are younger and might enjoy the huge set worth nearly $40. Now I have more space and have severed yet another tie to my past. It's not easy seeing everything though. There are photos I came across of us kissing, spending time together, and having fun. Memories of what it means to be loved flood back in. This is the challenge: to let go of something I can no longer hold and have faith that some day there will be something more than weak memories of a lover I don't have. Shouldn't be hard right?
So that's today. My bridge from yesterday to tomorrow. I had many joys and many sorrows but my day was completely real. All the emotions and struggles, tensions and trials, all the raw moments and astonishing joy, it wasn't from the television or a second hand story, I didn't see a movie or read the paper, I lived my life, today, even though it was scary to write it out, I guess we all manage some how.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Understanding Values
In my previous entry I made several remarks that is the groundwork for these thoughts tonight. The book that I'm reading, in spite of what I'm sure is a severely disapproving Barnes and Noble staff, is called To Be Told. It's found in the Christian Inspiration section, and yes, I am embarrassed. That being said, my friend Jessica recommended it. Recommendations mean a lot to me. This is particularly true of those I love. Since Jess now lives on the other side of the country I see the value in finding ways to connect with her that involve ideas more than geography. Maybe that inclination isn't a recent development, maybe it's one of the staples of our relationships, maybe I'm just using distance as an excuse to read a book that embarrasses me.
Maybes and reasons aside I'm reading the book, in short because on a variety of levels it's "good for me". Anyways, last night I was beginning and between the book and some of my life choices lately I've been thinking about values. How to identify them, how to use them, how to understand them, how to change them. In general I have been pondering the function and form of my own values in hopes that I would be rewarded with a more satisfying life.
What do I value? Well, I know that I express value most frequently with how I spend my time. Time is one of the measuring rods I have always used to understand the world. Time and space. Yes, everyone uses these to an extent but in different ways. In the depths of my soul I am an American of the ol' fashion sort. "Time is money." Meaning one of the measurements of value. The amount of time I am willing to spend on something is a very acurate expression of how important it is to me. So what do i spend my time on?
A friend of mine once suggested that I measure out my time. He said I should look at what I do on paper and with the numbers in front of me to realize what my life really is. For your viewing pleasure and my own personal enlightenment this is what it looks like: Out of 168 hours a week, I spend a minimum of 36 hours a week at my office job. Second place goes to Barnes and Noble where I tend to spend the better part of my nights and weekends usually totalling up to 20ish hours a week. I sleep on average 42 hours a week. I spend probably 15 hours a week driving. That leaves me with 55 hours a week to carve out a life. 55 hours of spare time.
So what do I value? I show what I value the same way in my freetime as I do in my working life, they work exactly the same for me. I value being part of something that is a family or like it, comfort, roles to slip into and masks to wear, insulation from my own mind (a place to explore it without having to comfront demons alone), movement, goals, rules, structure, challenges that are prearranged, people. This is the world I value. This is my ideal world. It's heavily populated, immensely productive, safely growing, acting in togetherness, following steps. If the bees ever invite me to move in I'll pack a bag and be off before nightfall. This is how I build my life.
Now, are these values worth holding? Is this world a world that I should allow to tumble? Ought I seek out environments like this or is it best that I haven't been able to master the perfect instituationalized life that I seem to enjoy so much? Does letting my world go to pieces around me make me a better person? Will being alone more often, saying no to "family situations", and steping out of my traditional roles give me a better insight on values worth holding?
Maybes and reasons aside I'm reading the book, in short because on a variety of levels it's "good for me". Anyways, last night I was beginning and between the book and some of my life choices lately I've been thinking about values. How to identify them, how to use them, how to understand them, how to change them. In general I have been pondering the function and form of my own values in hopes that I would be rewarded with a more satisfying life.
What do I value? Well, I know that I express value most frequently with how I spend my time. Time is one of the measuring rods I have always used to understand the world. Time and space. Yes, everyone uses these to an extent but in different ways. In the depths of my soul I am an American of the ol' fashion sort. "Time is money." Meaning one of the measurements of value. The amount of time I am willing to spend on something is a very acurate expression of how important it is to me. So what do i spend my time on?
A friend of mine once suggested that I measure out my time. He said I should look at what I do on paper and with the numbers in front of me to realize what my life really is. For your viewing pleasure and my own personal enlightenment this is what it looks like: Out of 168 hours a week, I spend a minimum of 36 hours a week at my office job. Second place goes to Barnes and Noble where I tend to spend the better part of my nights and weekends usually totalling up to 20ish hours a week. I sleep on average 42 hours a week. I spend probably 15 hours a week driving. That leaves me with 55 hours a week to carve out a life. 55 hours of spare time.
So what do I value? I show what I value the same way in my freetime as I do in my working life, they work exactly the same for me. I value being part of something that is a family or like it, comfort, roles to slip into and masks to wear, insulation from my own mind (a place to explore it without having to comfront demons alone), movement, goals, rules, structure, challenges that are prearranged, people. This is the world I value. This is my ideal world. It's heavily populated, immensely productive, safely growing, acting in togetherness, following steps. If the bees ever invite me to move in I'll pack a bag and be off before nightfall. This is how I build my life.
Now, are these values worth holding? Is this world a world that I should allow to tumble? Ought I seek out environments like this or is it best that I haven't been able to master the perfect instituationalized life that I seem to enjoy so much? Does letting my world go to pieces around me make me a better person? Will being alone more often, saying no to "family situations", and steping out of my traditional roles give me a better insight on values worth holding?
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Creating a New Life, One Cliff at a Time
In nearly three months I will past the 2 year marker since I graduated. In two years I have experienced a few minor changes from my college lifestyle. These changes include, but are not limited to the following:
I graduated
Moved in with friends
Quit my job of six years at the toy store
Started working full time as a ASL at a tween clothing store
Broke up with my boyfriend of 4 years
Began cooking
Distanced myself from old friendships
Moved into my own apartment alone
Took up drinking
Made a new friend who introduced me to several more
Started an office job full time in a glass manufacturing company in the country
Quit my management job
Tried to make things work with said ex boyfriend
Took up smoking
Took up art
Took up yoga
Began Friday Nights
Forgave past hurts
Started seeing a psychologist
Lost ex boyfriend to another girl
Went on a trip to Seattle
Watched my friends get married
Said good bye to three of my favorite people as they journeyed to Seattle.
It's a brief history of the last few years. Maybe it isn't everything but I hope it highlights some of the general themes. It's been a few years of struggling with a transition between past and future. Generally when people ask how I'm doing now I am either "Marvelous!" or bleak. "The vortex of pessimism and despair." Neither of these extremes are really all that fair. Things have been up and down, growing is like that; I am extreme in my responses and that's just how I am.
Still, this is a new chapter in my life. I have outlined where I was, and where I was no longer affords me a place to go back to. I can't try to repair a relationship with my ex boyfriend, he has a new girlfriend and a new life outside of the state, our relationship is over. I can not step back into my comfortable job at the toy store because they are out of business. There is no returning to the ease of my former friendships in their former states because those relationships have changed either due to emotional, spiritual, mental, or geographical distances. In short, there is no going home again. "We must go on."
That's what this blog is about, at least for now. Going on is an adventure, even if it is only in my neighborhood. Suddenly every person I meet becomes a new opportunity at contact, yay human contact! There are moments which fall into my life and moments which I must force myself to create that allow me to build a new life out of the materials around me. This is my adventure, this is my challenge, this is my goal: make something out of what you have now.
Following this line of reasoning I have spent the week challenging myself in ways I never would have before. Several weeks ago I posted an ad on craigslist for girls who were seeking a friend. I was wondering if there were other people who were lonely as a result of recent transitions like the ones I was going through. As it turns out there are in abudance! Not that they all answered, but I got enough responses and I've talked to enough people for me to believe my feelings aren't uncommon. I ended up being contacted my a girl roughly my age who was new to Grand Rapids and looking for someone to spend time with. Her long time boyfriend moved here with her but is away at school for the semster and she doesn't really know many people. On Monday we met for dinner.
Have I mentioned that I am terrified of new people? I am. Still, I found that little spark of guts inside me and met a stranger. We ate our salads, yet another newer addition to my life, and talked for nearly three hours. Following the meal we made plans to connect on facebook and set up coffee for sometime next week. Now I have one new people friend on facebook and both of her guinea pigs have friended me as well! If my friends were still in town I would never have had this experience.
On Tuesday night I went dancing. I wanted to take a class. Being a philosohy major and pretty much obessed with the topic, I originally wanted to take classes at Grand Valley a night or two a week. I have learned that one week before the semster starts is not the best time to see about attending a school however. After a lot of paper work, missed deadlines, and bad internet connections I decided that, at least for this semster, $5.00 east coast swing lessons would be easier and more challenging for me than a $1200 philosophy class that I might get into.
I showed up, after having a lovely dinner of tuna steak and mango sauce with white wine (prepared by yours truely), for the course. Nervously I peeked into the two room studio only to be greeted by cheering bald men. Apparently they were shy on females for the evening. I got the quick $5.00 tour by the owner of the place and shortly thereafter the class began. There were four men and four women counting me. We began class. It was lots of fun, lots of awkward moments, I overthought everything from the time I walked in to the time I left, but I enjoyed it all. We danced to Black Velvet and Boot Scoot and Boogie. Grinning away I left the building counting steps, 1,2,3. 4,5,6. Rockstep. I'm supposed to practice at least an hour this week on the basic steps for mucle memory. If I don't, Jim will most certainly know.
Tonight I turned down a shift at my second job. This seems like a small thing but in the world of me, who uses work to hide from really interacting with others or examining my own life, it's kinda a big thing. I'm sitting on the porch talking with neighbors. They may even believe that someone actually lives here this week. How crazy is that? Tonight I'll read a book that my friend suggested, I'll paint a little, I'll practice my dance steps, and in it all I'll remember that this is the adventure of my life. At least for now, this is the stage that I play on.
I graduated
Moved in with friends
Quit my job of six years at the toy store
Started working full time as a ASL at a tween clothing store
Broke up with my boyfriend of 4 years
Began cooking
Distanced myself from old friendships
Moved into my own apartment alone
Took up drinking
Made a new friend who introduced me to several more
Started an office job full time in a glass manufacturing company in the country
Quit my management job
Tried to make things work with said ex boyfriend
Took up smoking
Took up art
Took up yoga
Began Friday Nights
Forgave past hurts
Started seeing a psychologist
Lost ex boyfriend to another girl
Went on a trip to Seattle
Watched my friends get married
Said good bye to three of my favorite people as they journeyed to Seattle.
It's a brief history of the last few years. Maybe it isn't everything but I hope it highlights some of the general themes. It's been a few years of struggling with a transition between past and future. Generally when people ask how I'm doing now I am either "Marvelous!" or bleak. "The vortex of pessimism and despair." Neither of these extremes are really all that fair. Things have been up and down, growing is like that; I am extreme in my responses and that's just how I am.
Still, this is a new chapter in my life. I have outlined where I was, and where I was no longer affords me a place to go back to. I can't try to repair a relationship with my ex boyfriend, he has a new girlfriend and a new life outside of the state, our relationship is over. I can not step back into my comfortable job at the toy store because they are out of business. There is no returning to the ease of my former friendships in their former states because those relationships have changed either due to emotional, spiritual, mental, or geographical distances. In short, there is no going home again. "We must go on."
That's what this blog is about, at least for now. Going on is an adventure, even if it is only in my neighborhood. Suddenly every person I meet becomes a new opportunity at contact, yay human contact! There are moments which fall into my life and moments which I must force myself to create that allow me to build a new life out of the materials around me. This is my adventure, this is my challenge, this is my goal: make something out of what you have now.
Following this line of reasoning I have spent the week challenging myself in ways I never would have before. Several weeks ago I posted an ad on craigslist for girls who were seeking a friend. I was wondering if there were other people who were lonely as a result of recent transitions like the ones I was going through. As it turns out there are in abudance! Not that they all answered, but I got enough responses and I've talked to enough people for me to believe my feelings aren't uncommon. I ended up being contacted my a girl roughly my age who was new to Grand Rapids and looking for someone to spend time with. Her long time boyfriend moved here with her but is away at school for the semster and she doesn't really know many people. On Monday we met for dinner.
Have I mentioned that I am terrified of new people? I am. Still, I found that little spark of guts inside me and met a stranger. We ate our salads, yet another newer addition to my life, and talked for nearly three hours. Following the meal we made plans to connect on facebook and set up coffee for sometime next week. Now I have one new people friend on facebook and both of her guinea pigs have friended me as well! If my friends were still in town I would never have had this experience.
On Tuesday night I went dancing. I wanted to take a class. Being a philosohy major and pretty much obessed with the topic, I originally wanted to take classes at Grand Valley a night or two a week. I have learned that one week before the semster starts is not the best time to see about attending a school however. After a lot of paper work, missed deadlines, and bad internet connections I decided that, at least for this semster, $5.00 east coast swing lessons would be easier and more challenging for me than a $1200 philosophy class that I might get into.
I showed up, after having a lovely dinner of tuna steak and mango sauce with white wine (prepared by yours truely), for the course. Nervously I peeked into the two room studio only to be greeted by cheering bald men. Apparently they were shy on females for the evening. I got the quick $5.00 tour by the owner of the place and shortly thereafter the class began. There were four men and four women counting me. We began class. It was lots of fun, lots of awkward moments, I overthought everything from the time I walked in to the time I left, but I enjoyed it all. We danced to Black Velvet and Boot Scoot and Boogie. Grinning away I left the building counting steps, 1,2,3. 4,5,6. Rockstep. I'm supposed to practice at least an hour this week on the basic steps for mucle memory. If I don't, Jim will most certainly know.
Tonight I turned down a shift at my second job. This seems like a small thing but in the world of me, who uses work to hide from really interacting with others or examining my own life, it's kinda a big thing. I'm sitting on the porch talking with neighbors. They may even believe that someone actually lives here this week. How crazy is that? Tonight I'll read a book that my friend suggested, I'll paint a little, I'll practice my dance steps, and in it all I'll remember that this is the adventure of my life. At least for now, this is the stage that I play on.
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