We've all had friends like this, friends who don't seem to understand how not to be selfish. They are the people who know how to take, but not how to give. We all know these people and probably have a few in our lives. In the age of technology, the use of cell phones and the proper etiquette is going to come into question. There is no book, no magical recipe for when it is appropriate but rather the importance of establishing a guideline in terms of politeness and perhaps a general rule of consideration that should apply.
It should be common knowledge that one shouldn't use their cell phone during a movie, but clearly there are people that do not have that level of consideration as the movie industry still has to put up a message to remind people to silence their cell phones.
Should you really have to remind someone to silence their cell phone when you're in a social situation or when you're engaged in a conversation with someone? How disconcerting is it to be speaking to someone only to have them interrupt you by picking up their cell phone to reply to someone else or to answer their phone?
Ultimately, it not only becomes a matter of being impolite, but also defines the level of respect in the friendship. For example, I have a friend who constantly seeks advice about matters he feels are of great importance in his life. Truly, what happens in his life only matters to me in that I am his friend. I listen out of respect and consideration because his friendship is important to me. I offer advice whenever possible and patiently try to help him work through his own self doubt. However, where is the reciprocation?
The balance of friendship is not in my favor, because when I try to talk about something in my own life, he conveniently picks up his cell phone and responds to a text or answers the cell phone. That immediately tells me just exactly how important I am to him: so unimportant that a random text message at that very moment is more important than whatever it is I might have to say.
Most of the time,, I choose not to say anything. But ultimately, my constantly giving in this "friendship" and not getting much in return ultimately bothers me. I politely try to piont it out when we are all together in a social situation; his other friends have also noticed and tried to point it out.
"Do you want my attention?" His voice is dry and almost sarcastic. That statement stood out to me, bothered me a little, because a part of it is true--but not for the reason he almost seemed to imply. Yes, when listening to him, he expects--wants--my attention. Is it not fair to expect the same thing in return from him?
The saddest part about it is that he has barely a clue as to what is going on in my life; I don't ever get the dance to even talk about it as I'm constantly interrupted by his problems or his cell phone. Are you starting to see a tred? Sometimes I wonder if it's always going to be about him. I don't even know if he considers me a friend or just someone who is a convenient sounding board for his problems and issues. Yes, in some ways it's about wanting his attention, but it's also about wanting my half of the friendship too.
Friendship, like any relationship, is a two way street. It sometimes means taking, but it's also about giving. I don't mind listening to his problems and I'm happy to do it--but I think I deserve the same level of respect and attention that I am giving to him. I asked myself when was the last time he actually asked me (or even seemed to care) how I was really doing? Did he even give a thought to all the stuff I've been going through lately? He probably had no idea all the turmoil I had been going through... because he is so self-absorved. I realized he rarely takes the time to ask me or really listen. It's hard to tell someone anything about yourself, or get your half of the friendship, when you are constantly interrupted by the BING! of yet another text message.
To be fair, I too have been guilty of this offense. Until one day, one of my friends had the courage to point it out to me. She sat me down and told me how much it bothered her when I did that. I realized how selfish I had been and remembered that the whole point of my friendship with her was to enjoy each other, not always focus on myself. When I realized that, I put the cell phone down, left it down, and became a better friend in the process.
I end with this: we all have cell phones and we are all busy and important people. But in the end, is that text message or phone call more important than the friend you have sitting in front of you? If it is, then you don't deserve the friendship. The balance of friendship is more than just about you--it's like the scales of justice-meant to be balanced.
A friendship is about more than just getting someone to listen to you, having a good friend means a responsibility to be one too.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Reality Hits Home ...
I had written the most beautiful post, and it’s all gone—yet another hour of wasted thoughts lost to the oblivion of the internet. Well, I guess I shall try it again---no promises that it will be as good the second time around.
This blog is currently untitled because I don’t know how to put a title on it. I guess I don’t know how to feel. It has taken some weeks to put this into words—to put it all down on paper—and my head is swimming with emotions.
Before I get ahead of myself, I need to go back a few months.
It might have been the end of July that I first noticed that J started to come to my office more. It seemed odd somehow, and he almost reminded me of how things used to be between us—before there were so many things left unsaid. There was a sort of lightness in the air, but a sadness too—one I couldn’t place.
At some point, he asked me to go to a movie with him—it had really been the third time we really talked about it. But I blew him off, because he often says things and doesn’t follow through on them or doesn’t mean them (this is ironically going to come into play later).
I didn’t take the “offer” seriously for a couple of reasons. The first one being the fact that the entire ugly scene played itself in my mind—would we go to the movie alone? What would his girlfriend have to say about that? ( I knew she didn’t like me probably for completely irrational reasons ). What if she accompanied him? Would we exchange awkward and meaningless pleasantries and then sit in uncomfortable silence throughout the movie and then go on our own way? And why did I get the feeling that he wanted something from me?
The other reason I didn’t really want to go is because I knew it wasn’t fair to A (the guy I was currently dating). He had no idea of the turmoil of emotions that were playing themselves in my heart. The truth was, he was about to move in. I can’t believe I’m admitting this. He was about to move in and I’m not sure I was ready for that yet. How many times has someone moved in with me only to have it end miserably when the time came for me to walk away? I’ve gotten so tired of breaking so many hearts … one thing I knew about him, was that he deserved better. His last girlfriend cheated on him right under his nose and yet … I think in the back of my heart, I was still hoping that J would come back to me.
I finally gave in and agreed to see a movie with him and agreed to meet him at his house—he moved back to the place he and I had shared a few years ago. My anxiety mounted when he didn’t mention his girlfriend or whether or not she would be joining us. My plan was to make the best of it. So I approached his door and waited for her to answer—but she didn’t. And when I saw the house mysteriously quiet and dark behind him, I admit I was relieved. There were signs of his daughter everywhere-scribbled chalk on the pavement and toys left abandoned on the front patio.
He closed the door quickly behind him, and I was left to wonder about the whereabouts of his girlfriend and baby.
We made small, uncomfortable small talk as we approached the theater. Why was I so guarded around him? Then again, didn’t I have the right to be? I wanted to ask about his girlfriend, but I was still taking it all in and—I guess a part of me didn’t want to ask about her either. Why pretend to care about someone who disliked me? No need to be fake…
When we got to the theater, he made some comment about “visiting” with his daughter, and when I turned to him with a look of surprise, he told me that he and his girlfriend had broken up and had been separated for a few months.
Wow! I think that was my exact response to him. Perhaps that explained the sadness? We watched the movie and I sat silently in shock. The thing I had asked for, prayed for, finally was happening. The movie ended and I drove him home; he invited me inside.
Signs of his daughter were everywhere—a little chair, toys strewn on the couch, random colorful stickers stuck to the coffee table. There was a picture too, a picture of the three of them, on the mantle of the open kitchen. It almost felt like I was trespassing in a world that didn’t belong to me anymore, in a life that wasn’t mine. Suddenly, it felt like the world was closing in on me—the room felt suffocating. This was not exactly how I pictured it would be.
As I looked at J, I could see the beginnings of gray starting to form on his perfectly beautiful dark black hair; the signs of age creeping up on him. I suddenly wondered where the years had gone and how, just for a moment, I could have pretended that things weren’t the way they were?
He seemed to be the same person I remembered, and yet much different—gray was not the only sign that he was getting older. There was a sadness in his eyes as he described how he had no plans to return to his girlfriend after the things she had said to him. He refused to tell me what those things were, but I didn’t press for details. Did I want to know? Yes. Would it hurt me or suck me back in? Yes. I was determined to stay neutral, to see if this was real or just a dream.
I kept questioning him about whether he was going back, and he said he would never go back after the things that were said, supposedly getting “ugly” in Court over the custody rights of their daughter. I couldn’t figure it out. Why would a girl with no real future or means of having a future leave her paycheck? I knew she didn’t have a job and while I don’t mean to speak badly of her, I’m sure she’s very bright, I doubted that she would get a decent job anytime soon given the state of the economy and her lack of education. So then why would she, as he had said, abandon such a good life? Oh sure, J didn’t make the money he appeared to make—he probably appeared to her to have it made with his previously large house. But I knew the truth, knew that he probably over-extended himself to maintain appearances. But I didn’t care—I didn’t want him for his money. I loved who he was. Apparently, she did not feel the same.
Once we got to his house, it was as if he didn’t know what to do with me, and I quickly left. But through several more conversations, I definitely got the feeling that he wanted something from me. Did he want to regain old times? Be my friend? Did he even realize what such a friendship would cost? Would she be pissed if she knew we were friends again? Or was there more on his mind than friendship? One thing that stuck in my head was how many times he assured me he wasn’t going back to her—how he almost became angry with me at one point telling me that it was over and how he’d missed our friendship.
I wasn’t the only one who had noticed his more frequent visits to the office. Several of our “mutual” friends noticed also—and questioned me about it almost to the point of annoyance. One person in particular noted the smile on my face when they brought up his name. Yes, I wanted to believe the things he said … but then there were my other friends talking as well as the voice of reason in my head.
Some friends suggested we should try to make things work this time—try to see where things went after the dust of his custody battle settled. See how it went. I wanted to be guarded so that he didn’t see my thinly veiled hopefulness and my faith in him.
But all that came with a price—because A had moved in and I couldn’t very well have J over during the small amount of time that A would be living with me (we had agreed he would stay with me a couple of months until he got on his feet again).
There was only one RIGHT thing to do—and it was difficult. I told A the truth and I told him everything; I didn’t want to hurt him, but at the same time, I needed him to understand how difficult this was for me. It was as if, I don’t know, maybe I was getting a second chance.
But other friends discouraged it-were vehemently against the idea. They told me that even thinking about it was a bad idea because exes are always exes for a reason. If they haven’t “fixed” whatever made them an ex in the first place, then nothing will change. My friend reminded me that he probably hadn’t changed, and the reality was, I wanted children and he had carefully built up his life to avoid them. He even talked about how he felt he was “too old” for children. He even felt the need to resort to being condescending to me, telling me “You don’t know what it’s like because you don’t have children.” While that may be true, that does not stop my wanting to have a child. I realize the heartache, the work, the struggle, the everything, and giving J a second chance probably meant abandoning my hope of raising one (or two?) of my own.
All of these things and more ran through my head. I wasn’t the only one who was guarded; he invited me to his place once, then pretended to be tired so that I would leave just a little over an hour and a half of getting there. He tells me how he’s exhausted and plans to go straight to bed. I go home, frankly surprised, that he would have me drive half and hour to see him only to be too “tired” to hang out with me. When I get home, I discover he is online, playing a game. When I catch him at it, he makes some excuse to me. How old is he that he feels the need to continue to lie to me after all this time? He wasn’t man enough to tell me that he wanted to do other things, he would rather lie than be honest. Was this a sign of the man he’d become or the man he always was and I just never saw it before?
Meanwhile, there was A, as wonderful as ever. Trying to make me dinner and failing miserably at it, encouraging me to foster a good friendship with J. What in the world was I doing?
Perhaps the best thing for me would be to develop a friendship with J again and see how it all played out. So I did what was best for me, I backed away. I’m 31 years old and I am tired of playing games; I don’t need to be lied to.
So fast forward a few weeks and Christmas is coming up. I make J some fudge and we chat in my office at some point about random things. There is no mention of anything serious—until a few days before Christmas. He ends up telling me that he and his girlfriend have gotten back together again and she is going to be moving back in.
Wait… what? Did I miss something? Didn’t he just tell me that he was done? Didn’t he just spend hours convincing me that he was never going back? And now he’s changed his mind?
The incredulousness of this and it hit me all at once and I found myself for the LAST time stunned. In essence, he lied to me. What would have happened if I had let him back into my good graces? Would he have gotten back together with her anyway? And would he have been honest with me about it?
Suddenly, I could look at the situation with perfect clarity and realized that he’s a liar and that’s the plain and simple –and ironic truth. He lies to me, he lies to his friends and family, and worse, he lies to himself.
I sneakingly suspect that he’s only getting back with her for convenience, to have a warm body for the holidays, to make it easier on the pocketbook, or whatever reason he’s invented in his head. Perhaps being a single dad-the harsh reality of parenthood too much responsibility for him to handle alone.
I found myself shocked, possibly because I actually believed his lies yet again. I believe that he is like two people—one conflicted with his real life, and one that lives in the other world—the one he wants. But until the two worlds come together, I don’t feel he’ll ever be truly happy. I guess if I had been with him, I would have been happy for a while—until he lied to me, or until something else happened to shatter my hopefulness.
Meanwhile, this has taught me a valuable lesson about life and about how sometimes it takes trying something new to realize what you do and don’t want.
I want to be the girl who raises a family and takes care of my husband. I don’t mind being the girl who goes to soccer practice or baseball games or anything because it will put a smile on my child’s face. I will fight the sleep off my face to comfort a crying baby. I will fight to be a good and strong parent who loves and encourages my children.
But I can’t live in a world where I am lied to, or a world where having someone to love means sacrificing myself for their needs and wants just so that I can be a “servant girl” to make their life easier. I don’t mind doing the work if I get rewarded in some way. I realized that J would never put in the work it takes for a successful and lasting relationship. My love for him would not be enough to carry us through all of the tough times we’d face or the challenges and obstacles that life would bring us.
As I mentioned, I realized that he’s not what I want anymore. A takes care of me, and is willing to go to the store for me even at 10:00 at night when he’s in his “comfy pants” because I am sick and need medicine. I have to beg him not to go. He proudly shows me pictures of his nephews and how he can’t wait to have children of his own. He did the dishes while I lay on the couch feeling miserable. That’s the kind of person I want, and that’s the kind of person I am not sure I deserve-but have waited my whole life to find.
He may not understand me on an intrinsic instinctive level, but we are going in the same direction, and our mutual respect and adoration for one another will help us make it through.
Meanwhile, I can’t help but feel betrayed a little. Should I even bother to work on a friendship with J? Will it be based on lies? Ironically, when he told me they had gotten back together, I questioned him and he told me that “she was all right with [our friendship].” Really? Truly? Had he asked her? Would it still be the same way or would it be as I had originally pictured it, an uncomfortable silence? I decided then, that my hope in him had been shattered—even for a basic friendship, I would hope he had the strength to be honest with me.
For now, nothing is solved and thankfully, so many questions have been answered in my heart. Am I going in the right direction? At long last, I can proceed without someone holding a secret grip on my heart …
This blog is currently untitled because I don’t know how to put a title on it. I guess I don’t know how to feel. It has taken some weeks to put this into words—to put it all down on paper—and my head is swimming with emotions.
Before I get ahead of myself, I need to go back a few months.
It might have been the end of July that I first noticed that J started to come to my office more. It seemed odd somehow, and he almost reminded me of how things used to be between us—before there were so many things left unsaid. There was a sort of lightness in the air, but a sadness too—one I couldn’t place.
At some point, he asked me to go to a movie with him—it had really been the third time we really talked about it. But I blew him off, because he often says things and doesn’t follow through on them or doesn’t mean them (this is ironically going to come into play later).
I didn’t take the “offer” seriously for a couple of reasons. The first one being the fact that the entire ugly scene played itself in my mind—would we go to the movie alone? What would his girlfriend have to say about that? ( I knew she didn’t like me probably for completely irrational reasons ). What if she accompanied him? Would we exchange awkward and meaningless pleasantries and then sit in uncomfortable silence throughout the movie and then go on our own way? And why did I get the feeling that he wanted something from me?
The other reason I didn’t really want to go is because I knew it wasn’t fair to A (the guy I was currently dating). He had no idea of the turmoil of emotions that were playing themselves in my heart. The truth was, he was about to move in. I can’t believe I’m admitting this. He was about to move in and I’m not sure I was ready for that yet. How many times has someone moved in with me only to have it end miserably when the time came for me to walk away? I’ve gotten so tired of breaking so many hearts … one thing I knew about him, was that he deserved better. His last girlfriend cheated on him right under his nose and yet … I think in the back of my heart, I was still hoping that J would come back to me.
I finally gave in and agreed to see a movie with him and agreed to meet him at his house—he moved back to the place he and I had shared a few years ago. My anxiety mounted when he didn’t mention his girlfriend or whether or not she would be joining us. My plan was to make the best of it. So I approached his door and waited for her to answer—but she didn’t. And when I saw the house mysteriously quiet and dark behind him, I admit I was relieved. There were signs of his daughter everywhere-scribbled chalk on the pavement and toys left abandoned on the front patio.
He closed the door quickly behind him, and I was left to wonder about the whereabouts of his girlfriend and baby.
We made small, uncomfortable small talk as we approached the theater. Why was I so guarded around him? Then again, didn’t I have the right to be? I wanted to ask about his girlfriend, but I was still taking it all in and—I guess a part of me didn’t want to ask about her either. Why pretend to care about someone who disliked me? No need to be fake…
When we got to the theater, he made some comment about “visiting” with his daughter, and when I turned to him with a look of surprise, he told me that he and his girlfriend had broken up and had been separated for a few months.
Wow! I think that was my exact response to him. Perhaps that explained the sadness? We watched the movie and I sat silently in shock. The thing I had asked for, prayed for, finally was happening. The movie ended and I drove him home; he invited me inside.
Signs of his daughter were everywhere—a little chair, toys strewn on the couch, random colorful stickers stuck to the coffee table. There was a picture too, a picture of the three of them, on the mantle of the open kitchen. It almost felt like I was trespassing in a world that didn’t belong to me anymore, in a life that wasn’t mine. Suddenly, it felt like the world was closing in on me—the room felt suffocating. This was not exactly how I pictured it would be.
As I looked at J, I could see the beginnings of gray starting to form on his perfectly beautiful dark black hair; the signs of age creeping up on him. I suddenly wondered where the years had gone and how, just for a moment, I could have pretended that things weren’t the way they were?
He seemed to be the same person I remembered, and yet much different—gray was not the only sign that he was getting older. There was a sadness in his eyes as he described how he had no plans to return to his girlfriend after the things she had said to him. He refused to tell me what those things were, but I didn’t press for details. Did I want to know? Yes. Would it hurt me or suck me back in? Yes. I was determined to stay neutral, to see if this was real or just a dream.
I kept questioning him about whether he was going back, and he said he would never go back after the things that were said, supposedly getting “ugly” in Court over the custody rights of their daughter. I couldn’t figure it out. Why would a girl with no real future or means of having a future leave her paycheck? I knew she didn’t have a job and while I don’t mean to speak badly of her, I’m sure she’s very bright, I doubted that she would get a decent job anytime soon given the state of the economy and her lack of education. So then why would she, as he had said, abandon such a good life? Oh sure, J didn’t make the money he appeared to make—he probably appeared to her to have it made with his previously large house. But I knew the truth, knew that he probably over-extended himself to maintain appearances. But I didn’t care—I didn’t want him for his money. I loved who he was. Apparently, she did not feel the same.
Once we got to his house, it was as if he didn’t know what to do with me, and I quickly left. But through several more conversations, I definitely got the feeling that he wanted something from me. Did he want to regain old times? Be my friend? Did he even realize what such a friendship would cost? Would she be pissed if she knew we were friends again? Or was there more on his mind than friendship? One thing that stuck in my head was how many times he assured me he wasn’t going back to her—how he almost became angry with me at one point telling me that it was over and how he’d missed our friendship.
I wasn’t the only one who had noticed his more frequent visits to the office. Several of our “mutual” friends noticed also—and questioned me about it almost to the point of annoyance. One person in particular noted the smile on my face when they brought up his name. Yes, I wanted to believe the things he said … but then there were my other friends talking as well as the voice of reason in my head.
Some friends suggested we should try to make things work this time—try to see where things went after the dust of his custody battle settled. See how it went. I wanted to be guarded so that he didn’t see my thinly veiled hopefulness and my faith in him.
But all that came with a price—because A had moved in and I couldn’t very well have J over during the small amount of time that A would be living with me (we had agreed he would stay with me a couple of months until he got on his feet again).
There was only one RIGHT thing to do—and it was difficult. I told A the truth and I told him everything; I didn’t want to hurt him, but at the same time, I needed him to understand how difficult this was for me. It was as if, I don’t know, maybe I was getting a second chance.
But other friends discouraged it-were vehemently against the idea. They told me that even thinking about it was a bad idea because exes are always exes for a reason. If they haven’t “fixed” whatever made them an ex in the first place, then nothing will change. My friend reminded me that he probably hadn’t changed, and the reality was, I wanted children and he had carefully built up his life to avoid them. He even talked about how he felt he was “too old” for children. He even felt the need to resort to being condescending to me, telling me “You don’t know what it’s like because you don’t have children.” While that may be true, that does not stop my wanting to have a child. I realize the heartache, the work, the struggle, the everything, and giving J a second chance probably meant abandoning my hope of raising one (or two?) of my own.
All of these things and more ran through my head. I wasn’t the only one who was guarded; he invited me to his place once, then pretended to be tired so that I would leave just a little over an hour and a half of getting there. He tells me how he’s exhausted and plans to go straight to bed. I go home, frankly surprised, that he would have me drive half and hour to see him only to be too “tired” to hang out with me. When I get home, I discover he is online, playing a game. When I catch him at it, he makes some excuse to me. How old is he that he feels the need to continue to lie to me after all this time? He wasn’t man enough to tell me that he wanted to do other things, he would rather lie than be honest. Was this a sign of the man he’d become or the man he always was and I just never saw it before?
Meanwhile, there was A, as wonderful as ever. Trying to make me dinner and failing miserably at it, encouraging me to foster a good friendship with J. What in the world was I doing?
Perhaps the best thing for me would be to develop a friendship with J again and see how it all played out. So I did what was best for me, I backed away. I’m 31 years old and I am tired of playing games; I don’t need to be lied to.
So fast forward a few weeks and Christmas is coming up. I make J some fudge and we chat in my office at some point about random things. There is no mention of anything serious—until a few days before Christmas. He ends up telling me that he and his girlfriend have gotten back together again and she is going to be moving back in.
Wait… what? Did I miss something? Didn’t he just tell me that he was done? Didn’t he just spend hours convincing me that he was never going back? And now he’s changed his mind?
The incredulousness of this and it hit me all at once and I found myself for the LAST time stunned. In essence, he lied to me. What would have happened if I had let him back into my good graces? Would he have gotten back together with her anyway? And would he have been honest with me about it?
Suddenly, I could look at the situation with perfect clarity and realized that he’s a liar and that’s the plain and simple –and ironic truth. He lies to me, he lies to his friends and family, and worse, he lies to himself.
I sneakingly suspect that he’s only getting back with her for convenience, to have a warm body for the holidays, to make it easier on the pocketbook, or whatever reason he’s invented in his head. Perhaps being a single dad-the harsh reality of parenthood too much responsibility for him to handle alone.
I found myself shocked, possibly because I actually believed his lies yet again. I believe that he is like two people—one conflicted with his real life, and one that lives in the other world—the one he wants. But until the two worlds come together, I don’t feel he’ll ever be truly happy. I guess if I had been with him, I would have been happy for a while—until he lied to me, or until something else happened to shatter my hopefulness.
Meanwhile, this has taught me a valuable lesson about life and about how sometimes it takes trying something new to realize what you do and don’t want.
I want to be the girl who raises a family and takes care of my husband. I don’t mind being the girl who goes to soccer practice or baseball games or anything because it will put a smile on my child’s face. I will fight the sleep off my face to comfort a crying baby. I will fight to be a good and strong parent who loves and encourages my children.
But I can’t live in a world where I am lied to, or a world where having someone to love means sacrificing myself for their needs and wants just so that I can be a “servant girl” to make their life easier. I don’t mind doing the work if I get rewarded in some way. I realized that J would never put in the work it takes for a successful and lasting relationship. My love for him would not be enough to carry us through all of the tough times we’d face or the challenges and obstacles that life would bring us.
As I mentioned, I realized that he’s not what I want anymore. A takes care of me, and is willing to go to the store for me even at 10:00 at night when he’s in his “comfy pants” because I am sick and need medicine. I have to beg him not to go. He proudly shows me pictures of his nephews and how he can’t wait to have children of his own. He did the dishes while I lay on the couch feeling miserable. That’s the kind of person I want, and that’s the kind of person I am not sure I deserve-but have waited my whole life to find.
He may not understand me on an intrinsic instinctive level, but we are going in the same direction, and our mutual respect and adoration for one another will help us make it through.
Meanwhile, I can’t help but feel betrayed a little. Should I even bother to work on a friendship with J? Will it be based on lies? Ironically, when he told me they had gotten back together, I questioned him and he told me that “she was all right with [our friendship].” Really? Truly? Had he asked her? Would it still be the same way or would it be as I had originally pictured it, an uncomfortable silence? I decided then, that my hope in him had been shattered—even for a basic friendship, I would hope he had the strength to be honest with me.
For now, nothing is solved and thankfully, so many questions have been answered in my heart. Am I going in the right direction? At long last, I can proceed without someone holding a secret grip on my heart …
Sunday, December 13, 2009
As My Dad Used To Say ....
Well I wrote this entire blog, and thanks to technology, it's all gone. That sucks.
What I was going to say is that when I was younger, my dad had some really good wisdom that he applied to raising me that ultimately had a positive effect on how I have come to think about the importance of being patient and waiting for things.
The store is a magical place full of winderful things in the eyes of a child. The store was a place full of things I saw and wanted RIGHT NOW! I'd look at whatever it was--a toy or whatever--and rush over to my dad begging him to buy it for me.
He'd look at me and say, "I tell you what pumpkin, if you still want it the next time we come back, I'll get it for you."
Well that was certainly not what I wanted, I wanted it NOW! But he had no idea how the act of making me wait for something would become life changing. The truth was, I always remembered the things I really wanted, and forgot the things that were the items of "right now." It comes down to a matter of quality versus quantity. Sure, I would have had more things had my dad bought me everything I wanted, but you can bet that by him making me wait, I appreciated those things I did have, and appreciated those those things I really wanted.
This is perfect wisdom to apply to life in a hurry. Sometimes it's best to walk away from that thing you "really want" and come back for it later. If you really want it, if it is really important to you, you will get it later.
The wisdom, then, comes in the patience of waiting for the things that are most important--and disregarding the things that aren't.
What I was going to say is that when I was younger, my dad had some really good wisdom that he applied to raising me that ultimately had a positive effect on how I have come to think about the importance of being patient and waiting for things.
The store is a magical place full of winderful things in the eyes of a child. The store was a place full of things I saw and wanted RIGHT NOW! I'd look at whatever it was--a toy or whatever--and rush over to my dad begging him to buy it for me.
He'd look at me and say, "I tell you what pumpkin, if you still want it the next time we come back, I'll get it for you."
Well that was certainly not what I wanted, I wanted it NOW! But he had no idea how the act of making me wait for something would become life changing. The truth was, I always remembered the things I really wanted, and forgot the things that were the items of "right now." It comes down to a matter of quality versus quantity. Sure, I would have had more things had my dad bought me everything I wanted, but you can bet that by him making me wait, I appreciated those things I did have, and appreciated those those things I really wanted.
This is perfect wisdom to apply to life in a hurry. Sometimes it's best to walk away from that thing you "really want" and come back for it later. If you really want it, if it is really important to you, you will get it later.
The wisdom, then, comes in the patience of waiting for the things that are most important--and disregarding the things that aren't.
Wait For It... Wait For It ...
It has been a long time since I've written. I've been absorbed with the mundane everyday tasks of living and I've scarely had time to think let alone write. But so much stuff has happened recently, I cannot stop my head from spinning at the reality, the totality, of it all.
There are so many times in this life when we settle for something that's "just good enough" for right now. We really want that amazing technological gadget, but we end up settling for one without all the bells and whistles because, in the end, we just can't justify the cost of the other one.
Yet, once we buy that item, I think we're left with a sort of mild disappointment--disappointment that we didn't get what we really wanted. We're not unhappy with what we bought, but the truth is, I don't think we're every fully satisfied. It's almost as if there's this nagging feeling in the back of our heads that longs for something more--wondering if we shouldn't have just spent the money on the other thing instead. But our impatience got the better of us.
That's sorta what life is about: impatience. We're always in a hurry--and this is proven time and time again from the deadlines in our jobs to our competitiveness in sports (why some people take steroids so they can bulk up fast vs. doing in the natural--but slow way), etc. We are a society in a rush.
Part of encouragement in being in a hurry, is that we are often rewarded for thinking that way. For example, if you are in a hurry to get somewhere, you get there faster--thus encouraging you to repeat the same behavior the next time. If you get a good deal because you're there the fastest, it might convince you to get there in a hurry the next time too.
When it comes to matters of the heart, we try to apply this same thinking, and we end up lost and confused, because that's not the way our heart works. When we are rewarded with the latest technology, and we "settle" for the thing that's "almost as good" the reality is, we'll be replacing it in a few years if not sooner, with something probably better and more advanced.
But in relationships, we are not encouraged to do that. We are encouraged to find one person and settle down with them. But finding that person is incredibly, if not impossibly difficult, when we apply the hurried thinking to the situation. For example, if we are in a hurry to get married, the likelihood of a successful marriage is going to be a lot smallter than someone who say, did their research and "shopped around."
People aren't like technology: you can't just throw the relationship away because something "better" comes along. The reality is, the relationship you had might be just as good--but the new thing only appears better. So the question is, how do you tell what is better? How can you pick one thing and stick with that thing for life? Or is that impossible? Is sticking with something (or someone) for life impossible because of our way of thinking? Let's take a closer look.
Have you ever took a look at two vehicles, relatively similar in outward design, but their interior and price were completely different? For example, one had leather and had a cd changer and excellent speakers, and the other one cloth seating and the "basic" package. There is also a difference in price... How do you determine which one to go for? If you're like most people, you have an idea in your head of what you're looking for and what you're not.
In terms of a car, you wouldn't spend 100k on items in car that you didn't need just because it looked better or because everyone else was buying one.
Ultimately, you'd get the car you want, and hopefully wouldn't settle for what is just "good enough" for now.
So now, doing that in relationships poses a challenge. What do you choose to settle for?
I often give my friends advice when there are TWO pieces of technology (or more) they can't decide between. I always tell them the same thing: don't buy either. That's right--don't buy either item. Why? Because if you buy one, you'll always wonder about the other. The secret, then, is to figure out what you want the MOST and go get that. Have you ever noticed that when you do that, you end up buying something and not regretting it later?
Yes, sometimes waiting MAY mean you don't have ANY technology (or relationship, or whatever), but when you DO finally pick something, it will be the something that you really wanted.
Whenever I see people caught up between choices, it's usually because they are too close, too emotionally attached, to make a logical (and rational) decision one way or another.
So then, it comes down to waiting for it--waiting for the right one--waiting for the one that you really want--even if it means being alone--even if it means you don't have the exact same things as everyone else.
Stop thinking in terms of what you "have to have" and start thinking long term--what do you NEED and what are you prepared to wait for? You don't pull a pie out of the oven early and expect it to taste good. You have to... get ready for this wisdom---wait for it.
Perhaps we need to start teaching about the importance of patience, of being okay with going without, in this society always in a hurry. Perhaps if we slowed down a bit, we just might take the time to look around us and see things a bit differently.
Life is out there. Get what you want, just don't be afraid to wait for it.
There are so many times in this life when we settle for something that's "just good enough" for right now. We really want that amazing technological gadget, but we end up settling for one without all the bells and whistles because, in the end, we just can't justify the cost of the other one.
Yet, once we buy that item, I think we're left with a sort of mild disappointment--disappointment that we didn't get what we really wanted. We're not unhappy with what we bought, but the truth is, I don't think we're every fully satisfied. It's almost as if there's this nagging feeling in the back of our heads that longs for something more--wondering if we shouldn't have just spent the money on the other thing instead. But our impatience got the better of us.
That's sorta what life is about: impatience. We're always in a hurry--and this is proven time and time again from the deadlines in our jobs to our competitiveness in sports (why some people take steroids so they can bulk up fast vs. doing in the natural--but slow way), etc. We are a society in a rush.
Part of encouragement in being in a hurry, is that we are often rewarded for thinking that way. For example, if you are in a hurry to get somewhere, you get there faster--thus encouraging you to repeat the same behavior the next time. If you get a good deal because you're there the fastest, it might convince you to get there in a hurry the next time too.
When it comes to matters of the heart, we try to apply this same thinking, and we end up lost and confused, because that's not the way our heart works. When we are rewarded with the latest technology, and we "settle" for the thing that's "almost as good" the reality is, we'll be replacing it in a few years if not sooner, with something probably better and more advanced.
But in relationships, we are not encouraged to do that. We are encouraged to find one person and settle down with them. But finding that person is incredibly, if not impossibly difficult, when we apply the hurried thinking to the situation. For example, if we are in a hurry to get married, the likelihood of a successful marriage is going to be a lot smallter than someone who say, did their research and "shopped around."
People aren't like technology: you can't just throw the relationship away because something "better" comes along. The reality is, the relationship you had might be just as good--but the new thing only appears better. So the question is, how do you tell what is better? How can you pick one thing and stick with that thing for life? Or is that impossible? Is sticking with something (or someone) for life impossible because of our way of thinking? Let's take a closer look.
Have you ever took a look at two vehicles, relatively similar in outward design, but their interior and price were completely different? For example, one had leather and had a cd changer and excellent speakers, and the other one cloth seating and the "basic" package. There is also a difference in price... How do you determine which one to go for? If you're like most people, you have an idea in your head of what you're looking for and what you're not.
In terms of a car, you wouldn't spend 100k on items in car that you didn't need just because it looked better or because everyone else was buying one.
Ultimately, you'd get the car you want, and hopefully wouldn't settle for what is just "good enough" for now.
So now, doing that in relationships poses a challenge. What do you choose to settle for?
I often give my friends advice when there are TWO pieces of technology (or more) they can't decide between. I always tell them the same thing: don't buy either. That's right--don't buy either item. Why? Because if you buy one, you'll always wonder about the other. The secret, then, is to figure out what you want the MOST and go get that. Have you ever noticed that when you do that, you end up buying something and not regretting it later?
Yes, sometimes waiting MAY mean you don't have ANY technology (or relationship, or whatever), but when you DO finally pick something, it will be the something that you really wanted.
Whenever I see people caught up between choices, it's usually because they are too close, too emotionally attached, to make a logical (and rational) decision one way or another.
So then, it comes down to waiting for it--waiting for the right one--waiting for the one that you really want--even if it means being alone--even if it means you don't have the exact same things as everyone else.
Stop thinking in terms of what you "have to have" and start thinking long term--what do you NEED and what are you prepared to wait for? You don't pull a pie out of the oven early and expect it to taste good. You have to... get ready for this wisdom---wait for it.
Perhaps we need to start teaching about the importance of patience, of being okay with going without, in this society always in a hurry. Perhaps if we slowed down a bit, we just might take the time to look around us and see things a bit differently.
Life is out there. Get what you want, just don't be afraid to wait for it.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Finding Yourself
Many people have heard about my past and have judged me negatively because of it. Most of the time, I choose not to reveal my past to anyone for that very reason. Some might claim that I am a closed person who doesn't delve too much into personal history and while that is true, I think I do it mostly to protect myself. But the main question most people ask when they find out is, "How did you come out so normal?"
The answer to that question is a difficult one, but I think the secret lies in a basic fundamental idea, the idea of finding yourself.
The truth is, when I was younger, even though I had two brothers and two sisters, I didn't really have anyone to play with. But even thought no one was around, no one told me what choices I had to make, no one ever told me WHO I had to be.
We conform because society tells us to, because we want--and often need-the acceptance of others. So we often form our likes and dislikes based on what others like and don't like. It's this idea of "modeling" that we learn from a very young age. You often see toddlers imitating the actions or vocalizations of those around them-thus form the basic foundations for speech and this behavior of copying others' actions allows children to learn faster.
Eventually, however, the child develops a sense of "autonomy" (independence or freedom, as of the will or one's actions) and eventually will discern one item over another--a blue crayon over a purple crayon and thus will begin the pattern of preference and like versus dislike. Perhaps they form a negative association after eating badly cooked broccoli and thus decide that they'd rather eat another green vegetable.
Ultimately, the search for self goes deeper than that. It's about knowing who you are and liking that person. It's not being afraid to have an opinion even if you know it differs from others, it's accepting where you come from, your past (such as the case may be) whether or not those around you can accept and or appreciate it.
I think that one of the biggest challenge of the teenage years is the transition between being a child and being an adult--and part of that is about finding onself--figuring out where one wants to go in life--figuring out what direction to take, what path to go down. When you're a child, you think that there are limitless possibilites--but as you progress through your teenage years, you begin to see that you have to make a decision, several in fact, about where to go after college, what to do with your life, who you want to be "when you grow up." Suddenly the future of limitless possibilities is limited by all of your previous choices and previous progress including grades, social standing, etc.
The issue always becomes how do people miss that point in their lives when the start discerning what they like versus what they dislike and making that transition to discovering themselves. Some people figure out who they are earlier than others: they dream of being an astronaut at age five and grow up to be just that. Others, figure out after going through high school and picking a path in college. However, there are millions of countless others who wander aimlessly through life waiting for that strike of lightning, that stroke of inspiration, to tell them who they are.
Who are you? How do you find yourself? As an adult, figuring out who you are is impossible if you're not ready to understand and grasp a basic fundamental acceptance of what you're not. If you can accept what you're not, if you can decide what you *don't* like, then finding out what you do like is part of the joy of living.
Let me give an example. Let's pretend that you have three kinds of lunch meat in front of you: salami, bologne, and turkey. You know for a fact that you don't like bologne, so you won't ever eat it. But turkey isn't available, so you choose salami. You like salami, it tastes good, but you prefer turkey. But you don't have turkey so you accept the salami and forget about how you previously thought that salami was only okay. But what would happen if all of a sudden someone introduced you to ham? Suddenly it becomes your favorite lunch meat. Now the question is, would you be influenced by your friends who all seem to prefer turkey? Or would you stand firm in your knowledge that you like ham? Would you question yourself as to what you really like?
In finding yourself, you know what meat you like and you don't care what others like. You take their interests into consideration, but ultimately, you settle on ham because it's what YOU like. There's nothing wrong with salami, bologne, or any of the others. But you like ham. That's what knowing yourself is all about.
For me, the secret to my growing up and becoming "normal" is because I refused to accept that I was a victim. I refused to play that part, and blame issues on my past and therefore refuse to work on them. But ultimately, I became who I was supposed to be because I found myself and discovered that I am in a race with myself and whether or not anyone else understands or appreciates that, it has transformed me into the person I am today.
When you find yourself, you are happy, no matter what is going on around you; you find happiness in even the smallest of things. True happiness starts within yourself. When that happens, you stop letting people walk all over you, you take control of your own life. You know in your heart what you want, and you're not afraid to get it. You set standards for yourself and you keep them. Other people's opinions of you only act as a guidebook for improvement, but don't dictate the direction you are going.
This is in finding yourself. Those who are lost aimlessly wander about, flounder in the water and waffle in their decisions, but they forget the ultimate secret is that the truth of who they are lies within themselves.
They only need to listen to their hearts and let go of what others think and what they think others want.
Knowing yourself isn't being selfish, it's about figuring out your own likes and dislikes. If you don't know yourself, how can you share yourself with another? If you don't know who you are, how can you expect another to know the answer to that question?
Find yourself, so that you can open yourself up and share yourself with another. You will never be able to give 100% if you don't know yourself 100%.
The answer to that question is a difficult one, but I think the secret lies in a basic fundamental idea, the idea of finding yourself.
The truth is, when I was younger, even though I had two brothers and two sisters, I didn't really have anyone to play with. But even thought no one was around, no one told me what choices I had to make, no one ever told me WHO I had to be.
We conform because society tells us to, because we want--and often need-the acceptance of others. So we often form our likes and dislikes based on what others like and don't like. It's this idea of "modeling" that we learn from a very young age. You often see toddlers imitating the actions or vocalizations of those around them-thus form the basic foundations for speech and this behavior of copying others' actions allows children to learn faster.
Eventually, however, the child develops a sense of "autonomy" (independence or freedom, as of the will or one's actions) and eventually will discern one item over another--a blue crayon over a purple crayon and thus will begin the pattern of preference and like versus dislike. Perhaps they form a negative association after eating badly cooked broccoli and thus decide that they'd rather eat another green vegetable.
Ultimately, the search for self goes deeper than that. It's about knowing who you are and liking that person. It's not being afraid to have an opinion even if you know it differs from others, it's accepting where you come from, your past (such as the case may be) whether or not those around you can accept and or appreciate it.
I think that one of the biggest challenge of the teenage years is the transition between being a child and being an adult--and part of that is about finding onself--figuring out where one wants to go in life--figuring out what direction to take, what path to go down. When you're a child, you think that there are limitless possibilites--but as you progress through your teenage years, you begin to see that you have to make a decision, several in fact, about where to go after college, what to do with your life, who you want to be "when you grow up." Suddenly the future of limitless possibilities is limited by all of your previous choices and previous progress including grades, social standing, etc.
The issue always becomes how do people miss that point in their lives when the start discerning what they like versus what they dislike and making that transition to discovering themselves. Some people figure out who they are earlier than others: they dream of being an astronaut at age five and grow up to be just that. Others, figure out after going through high school and picking a path in college. However, there are millions of countless others who wander aimlessly through life waiting for that strike of lightning, that stroke of inspiration, to tell them who they are.
Who are you? How do you find yourself? As an adult, figuring out who you are is impossible if you're not ready to understand and grasp a basic fundamental acceptance of what you're not. If you can accept what you're not, if you can decide what you *don't* like, then finding out what you do like is part of the joy of living.
Let me give an example. Let's pretend that you have three kinds of lunch meat in front of you: salami, bologne, and turkey. You know for a fact that you don't like bologne, so you won't ever eat it. But turkey isn't available, so you choose salami. You like salami, it tastes good, but you prefer turkey. But you don't have turkey so you accept the salami and forget about how you previously thought that salami was only okay. But what would happen if all of a sudden someone introduced you to ham? Suddenly it becomes your favorite lunch meat. Now the question is, would you be influenced by your friends who all seem to prefer turkey? Or would you stand firm in your knowledge that you like ham? Would you question yourself as to what you really like?
In finding yourself, you know what meat you like and you don't care what others like. You take their interests into consideration, but ultimately, you settle on ham because it's what YOU like. There's nothing wrong with salami, bologne, or any of the others. But you like ham. That's what knowing yourself is all about.
For me, the secret to my growing up and becoming "normal" is because I refused to accept that I was a victim. I refused to play that part, and blame issues on my past and therefore refuse to work on them. But ultimately, I became who I was supposed to be because I found myself and discovered that I am in a race with myself and whether or not anyone else understands or appreciates that, it has transformed me into the person I am today.
When you find yourself, you are happy, no matter what is going on around you; you find happiness in even the smallest of things. True happiness starts within yourself. When that happens, you stop letting people walk all over you, you take control of your own life. You know in your heart what you want, and you're not afraid to get it. You set standards for yourself and you keep them. Other people's opinions of you only act as a guidebook for improvement, but don't dictate the direction you are going.
This is in finding yourself. Those who are lost aimlessly wander about, flounder in the water and waffle in their decisions, but they forget the ultimate secret is that the truth of who they are lies within themselves.
They only need to listen to their hearts and let go of what others think and what they think others want.
Knowing yourself isn't being selfish, it's about figuring out your own likes and dislikes. If you don't know yourself, how can you share yourself with another? If you don't know who you are, how can you expect another to know the answer to that question?
Find yourself, so that you can open yourself up and share yourself with another. You will never be able to give 100% if you don't know yourself 100%.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Friendship On Fire
So what does it feel like when you're in love? How can you possibly put to words a feeling that comes from your heart?
This is for my friend--he knows who he is--who struggles, like many of us do, to find our place, where we belong, and to determine whether or not real love is even possible. Do we settle for what's comfortable, safe? Or do we take a risk, put ourselves out there, risk getting hurt, for the chance at love?
What does being in love even feel like? Is it worth it?
My best way to describe truly being in love is ... better to talk about how it happened... and how it made me feel.
I didn't want to fall in love; I wasn't expecting to fall in love--it just sort of hit me one day. I worked full time and went to college full time--and at the end of the day, I was completely exhausted. The only thing I could think of was getting something to eat and going to bed. I checked my voicemail in between classes-he had left me a message telling me to come to his place after I was done with school. I show up at his house, exhausted beyond belief, and he's got a cup of hot chocolate and a sandwich waiting for me. "How was your day?" he asks me.
Who would have thought that, in that moment, NOTHING in the world could not take the place of the warmest gesture of that darn sandwhich and a stupid cup of hot chocolate... and his simple kindness in asking me about my day...
One day, I woke up to find him kissing me lightly on the cheek---just because he saw me sleeping (I worked graveyard) and felt like he wanted to. He didn't even know it woke me.
Another day, I woke up and I noticed that he was ironing like crazy. "What are you doing?" I asked in bewilderment. "Ironing." He grinned at me with the sort of mischievous grin that just makes you sort of smile, and I noticed that he's ironing MY clothes. "I'm almost done!" he said proudly... Done? Done with what? While I was asleep, he knew how busy I was, so he had taken my ENTIRE closet and ironed all of my clothes... he was hoping to do it before I woke up.
Being in love is like ... spending 5 hours with someone and it feels like minutes. You can do the most MUNDANE errands, and it's exciting. We had fun doing the silliest things--Costco trips became fun--our weekly trips to Home Depot became another chance to talk about our plans for our "future house."
Everything you do with them is exciting. Laying in their arms feels like euphoria. The world suddenly begins to make sense again, it has purpose, your life has meaning.
I would give my whole world to have that again. To find someone who knows how to love me without being told. They speak to your heart ... in ways that you don't quite understand. They "get" you and understand you. You can talk about ANYTHING and it's okay ... you can tell them the truth and they don't judge you.
Love isn't just about the actions, it's the feelings you get from being around them. It's how they make you feel about yourself. That seems to be the secret. Oh and what's funny is, you find yourself doing things you'd never normally d0--you WANT to do things for them, little things, just to make them happy, just to see them smile.
In the end, it's difficult to describe that feeling--but you know--oh you always know--when you don't have it--and you can see that feeling when others do.
As I've talked to many of my friends, real LOVE, is like a "Friendship On Fire" (the theme of a friend's wedding)... It's friendship transcended, friendship divine--and is it worth waiting for? Is it worth taking risks for?
There's always the possibility of being alone, of being rejected, of hurting yourself and others. But what if you realized how SHORT life really is and you didn't waste another moment with someone who will never understand who you really are? When we die, all we leave behind, are memories of ourselves and the legacy of ourselves. Who will remember your legacy? Who do you want to share yourself with? Who will remember you?
Life is short, you've heard it said a thousand times. Only you can decide if love is worth taking that risk for--you may end up alone, but maybe, just maybe, if you open up your heart, you just might find what you're looking for--and find yourself in the process.
Tomorrow, perhaps, I'll talk more about this subject of finding yourself. How do you do it? Where do you start? :P I've covered this before, but perhaps it needs a revisit. What are your thoughts?
This is for my friend--he knows who he is--who struggles, like many of us do, to find our place, where we belong, and to determine whether or not real love is even possible. Do we settle for what's comfortable, safe? Or do we take a risk, put ourselves out there, risk getting hurt, for the chance at love?
What does being in love even feel like? Is it worth it?
My best way to describe truly being in love is ... better to talk about how it happened... and how it made me feel.
I didn't want to fall in love; I wasn't expecting to fall in love--it just sort of hit me one day. I worked full time and went to college full time--and at the end of the day, I was completely exhausted. The only thing I could think of was getting something to eat and going to bed. I checked my voicemail in between classes-he had left me a message telling me to come to his place after I was done with school. I show up at his house, exhausted beyond belief, and he's got a cup of hot chocolate and a sandwich waiting for me. "How was your day?" he asks me.
Who would have thought that, in that moment, NOTHING in the world could not take the place of the warmest gesture of that darn sandwhich and a stupid cup of hot chocolate... and his simple kindness in asking me about my day...
One day, I woke up to find him kissing me lightly on the cheek---just because he saw me sleeping (I worked graveyard) and felt like he wanted to. He didn't even know it woke me.
Another day, I woke up and I noticed that he was ironing like crazy. "What are you doing?" I asked in bewilderment. "Ironing." He grinned at me with the sort of mischievous grin that just makes you sort of smile, and I noticed that he's ironing MY clothes. "I'm almost done!" he said proudly... Done? Done with what? While I was asleep, he knew how busy I was, so he had taken my ENTIRE closet and ironed all of my clothes... he was hoping to do it before I woke up.
Being in love is like ... spending 5 hours with someone and it feels like minutes. You can do the most MUNDANE errands, and it's exciting. We had fun doing the silliest things--Costco trips became fun--our weekly trips to Home Depot became another chance to talk about our plans for our "future house."
Everything you do with them is exciting. Laying in their arms feels like euphoria. The world suddenly begins to make sense again, it has purpose, your life has meaning.
I would give my whole world to have that again. To find someone who knows how to love me without being told. They speak to your heart ... in ways that you don't quite understand. They "get" you and understand you. You can talk about ANYTHING and it's okay ... you can tell them the truth and they don't judge you.
Love isn't just about the actions, it's the feelings you get from being around them. It's how they make you feel about yourself. That seems to be the secret. Oh and what's funny is, you find yourself doing things you'd never normally d0--you WANT to do things for them, little things, just to make them happy, just to see them smile.
In the end, it's difficult to describe that feeling--but you know--oh you always know--when you don't have it--and you can see that feeling when others do.
As I've talked to many of my friends, real LOVE, is like a "Friendship On Fire" (the theme of a friend's wedding)... It's friendship transcended, friendship divine--and is it worth waiting for? Is it worth taking risks for?
There's always the possibility of being alone, of being rejected, of hurting yourself and others. But what if you realized how SHORT life really is and you didn't waste another moment with someone who will never understand who you really are? When we die, all we leave behind, are memories of ourselves and the legacy of ourselves. Who will remember your legacy? Who do you want to share yourself with? Who will remember you?
Life is short, you've heard it said a thousand times. Only you can decide if love is worth taking that risk for--you may end up alone, but maybe, just maybe, if you open up your heart, you just might find what you're looking for--and find yourself in the process.
Tomorrow, perhaps, I'll talk more about this subject of finding yourself. How do you do it? Where do you start? :P I've covered this before, but perhaps it needs a revisit. What are your thoughts?
Saturday, September 12, 2009
A Project
So I guess I am going to start taking all my blogs from Myspace and moving them over here, not only because Myspace is sort of dying (and I don't even go there anymore) but also because it's time to put all my thoughts and information in one place.
Hopefully all my fans and people who read my thoughts will come here and subscribe ...
So tonight I start the project of transferring all my stuff over.
Before I leave, I just wanted to leave you all with a tidbit. I ran across my ex-boyfriend's website again--and I say again, because I knew it was there all along. I'd recently heard that he is now pursuing his dream of being a professional photographer. His work has come a long way and I hope he finds what he is looking for--even if he could look through all the lenses in the world and yet never saw me for me.
Hopefully all my fans and people who read my thoughts will come here and subscribe ...
So tonight I start the project of transferring all my stuff over.
Before I leave, I just wanted to leave you all with a tidbit. I ran across my ex-boyfriend's website again--and I say again, because I knew it was there all along. I'd recently heard that he is now pursuing his dream of being a professional photographer. His work has come a long way and I hope he finds what he is looking for--even if he could look through all the lenses in the world and yet never saw me for me.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
The Emotional Rollercoaster
I thought we had a good conversation tonight; she's taking her meds again. Well, actually, she said she's got meds that are actually working for her for the first time in several years. The meds always work at first, until she drinks.
That's probably what happened tonight. I'm so glad I didn't have to hear the sound of the ice cubes in her glass. Would I have said the same things? Should I have picked up the phone when she called me back merely a couple of hours later? Am I in for another sleepless night? …
I realize that I am going to sound like a bad person when I say that … I will never be comfortable around her. Because I never know when she's going to snap. That being said, tonight was another classic example. I am the one who's not healing here. I can never truly heal or move beyond the past as long as I have to worry about the kind of relationship we have. Because the problem is, when she's nice, when she tells me that she's different, I want to believe her. I slowly get used to the idea of her being different; I soak it up because a part of me really does believe it's possible.
So I gradually start to think that it's true. I start to invest more of my time and my heart into helping her be that different person she is so desperate to be. But then, she suddenly reverts back to the same old routine and I'm left regretting even talking to her.
She called me to ask my advice on something and I wish she hadn't. I've been her personal counselor for my whole life. She's taught me more things about myself than I've ever probably helped her discover about herself. She's never really treated me like a daughter, more like the person who's around for her own person amusement and to make herself feel better when she messes up. She always makes it mostly about herself.
I gave her my advice—leave it alone—especially with a person with whom she's already got a strained relationship. Leave it alone. Be the bigger person and just walk away. Don't respond to someone's outburst of anger. Just let it go. We talked for over two hours about life, past issues, and depression. Her self-actualized statements almost had me fooled into believing that this medicine was getting her somewhere. She agreed that being the bigger, better person, and ending what really could be considered a lame petty disagreement, was the best option.
We talked and laughed and joked about things that happened in my past and I really got to confront her with some of the behavior I'm glad she's changed-at least on the surface. But underneath, she is still just as fragile and unpredictable as she ever was.
After hanging up the phone with her, I felt pretty good. We had an awesome conversation that lasted over two hours. It was the first time in probably … well over 10 months where I didn't end the conversation frustrated or upset let alone spent so much time on the phone.
I felt good. Now THIS was a person I wanted to believe in. This was the person I wanted to call my Mom. This was the person I was proud of, the one who took a disease and flipped it upside down.
So she called me back just as I was about to slip into bed tonight, hoping to catch up on my sleep. When I heard her voice, I knew something was wrong. Had she been crying? Or was it merely that her words were slurring together? I used to be so good at telling the difference …
She had e-mailed the person and put a whole bunch of unknowing (or uncaring?) accusatory statements all pointing to a past she can't let go of. She didn't walk away, she escalated the problem and I could foresee it blowing up in her face. Where was the person I'd talked to earlier? The one who agreed to just walk away, to leave things alone, to write a letter and then WAIT before she sent it just in case of this very scenario?
"Please tell me you didn't send that …" I could only choke out halfway through. She had. Well, she asked my opinion right? What had happened in two hours? Had the drink gotten to her sensibility?
All of a sudden, our difference in opinion, suddenly became out me. Suddenly, I'm not supportive enough of her, I'm not giving her what she wants. But the thing is, I'm not her peer; I'm not her counselor; I'm not her mother. I'm her daughter. But she wants me to be her friend. She wants more than that. She wants me to support her in any endeavor, even if I disagree. But we are different people, and this is a game I don't want to play.
But it's too late to get off the roller coaster. She starts raising her voice and yelling at me in that all too-familiar tone, reminiscent of nights during her depression-induced rants. Here were are, over ten years later, doing the same dance. Hasn't she changed? Maybe not.
We have to end the conversation with me hanging up. Like a kid throwing a temper tantrum, I have to resort to such … pathetic means of telling her I'm done. She talked about killing herself … again, so I picked up the phone and called her right back. All she needed was a break in the conversation to calm her down a bit. That's when she started using things I told her when I believed her "changed" against me. Persona things I had told her were now suddenly being thrown in my face.
Suddenly, I was on the roller coaster again, and there was only one way to get off. I hung up again. I waited a few minutes, took a few deep breaths, and then called her back. "Don't EVER do that to me again." I tell her in a voice she knows not to mess with. Wow, where's that voice during other times when I need it? "You will not speak to me that way." I insist. Clearly, she has crossed the invisible boundaries I have had to put on our relationship.
The conversation proceeds and I know she feels guilty. That's why she is telling me nice things now like "I'm so sorry." And "You're really wonderful …" and blah blah blah. I've heard it all before. I want to believe she's really sorry, but I've been burnt too many times and now all the "I'm sorry's" don't really affect me anymore.
I get off the phone, following her insistence that I try and give her a hug over the phone (she needs the hug?) and was finally able to let her go. She had calmed down. Good. Maybe she won't kill herself tonight. Finally I can get off this roller coaster ride because I'm starting to feel sick. Sick in my heart extending to my soul.
But I wonder where that person went? Was it my imagination or was she ever there to begin with? In order to reach out to someone, to get close to them, you have to reveal things about yourself, open yourself up and be real, and risk getting hurt. It's the same with a mom who can't control herself. But the truth is, I think a part of me dies every time this happens. I am afraid for the day when it won't hurt me anymore because then I may hang up on her, walk away, and never look back.
That's probably what happened tonight. I'm so glad I didn't have to hear the sound of the ice cubes in her glass. Would I have said the same things? Should I have picked up the phone when she called me back merely a couple of hours later? Am I in for another sleepless night? …
I realize that I am going to sound like a bad person when I say that … I will never be comfortable around her. Because I never know when she's going to snap. That being said, tonight was another classic example. I am the one who's not healing here. I can never truly heal or move beyond the past as long as I have to worry about the kind of relationship we have. Because the problem is, when she's nice, when she tells me that she's different, I want to believe her. I slowly get used to the idea of her being different; I soak it up because a part of me really does believe it's possible.
So I gradually start to think that it's true. I start to invest more of my time and my heart into helping her be that different person she is so desperate to be. But then, she suddenly reverts back to the same old routine and I'm left regretting even talking to her.
She called me to ask my advice on something and I wish she hadn't. I've been her personal counselor for my whole life. She's taught me more things about myself than I've ever probably helped her discover about herself. She's never really treated me like a daughter, more like the person who's around for her own person amusement and to make herself feel better when she messes up. She always makes it mostly about herself.
I gave her my advice—leave it alone—especially with a person with whom she's already got a strained relationship. Leave it alone. Be the bigger person and just walk away. Don't respond to someone's outburst of anger. Just let it go. We talked for over two hours about life, past issues, and depression. Her self-actualized statements almost had me fooled into believing that this medicine was getting her somewhere. She agreed that being the bigger, better person, and ending what really could be considered a lame petty disagreement, was the best option.
We talked and laughed and joked about things that happened in my past and I really got to confront her with some of the behavior I'm glad she's changed-at least on the surface. But underneath, she is still just as fragile and unpredictable as she ever was.
After hanging up the phone with her, I felt pretty good. We had an awesome conversation that lasted over two hours. It was the first time in probably … well over 10 months where I didn't end the conversation frustrated or upset let alone spent so much time on the phone.
I felt good. Now THIS was a person I wanted to believe in. This was the person I wanted to call my Mom. This was the person I was proud of, the one who took a disease and flipped it upside down.
So she called me back just as I was about to slip into bed tonight, hoping to catch up on my sleep. When I heard her voice, I knew something was wrong. Had she been crying? Or was it merely that her words were slurring together? I used to be so good at telling the difference …
She had e-mailed the person and put a whole bunch of unknowing (or uncaring?) accusatory statements all pointing to a past she can't let go of. She didn't walk away, she escalated the problem and I could foresee it blowing up in her face. Where was the person I'd talked to earlier? The one who agreed to just walk away, to leave things alone, to write a letter and then WAIT before she sent it just in case of this very scenario?
"Please tell me you didn't send that …" I could only choke out halfway through. She had. Well, she asked my opinion right? What had happened in two hours? Had the drink gotten to her sensibility?
All of a sudden, our difference in opinion, suddenly became out me. Suddenly, I'm not supportive enough of her, I'm not giving her what she wants. But the thing is, I'm not her peer; I'm not her counselor; I'm not her mother. I'm her daughter. But she wants me to be her friend. She wants more than that. She wants me to support her in any endeavor, even if I disagree. But we are different people, and this is a game I don't want to play.
But it's too late to get off the roller coaster. She starts raising her voice and yelling at me in that all too-familiar tone, reminiscent of nights during her depression-induced rants. Here were are, over ten years later, doing the same dance. Hasn't she changed? Maybe not.
We have to end the conversation with me hanging up. Like a kid throwing a temper tantrum, I have to resort to such … pathetic means of telling her I'm done. She talked about killing herself … again, so I picked up the phone and called her right back. All she needed was a break in the conversation to calm her down a bit. That's when she started using things I told her when I believed her "changed" against me. Persona things I had told her were now suddenly being thrown in my face.
Suddenly, I was on the roller coaster again, and there was only one way to get off. I hung up again. I waited a few minutes, took a few deep breaths, and then called her back. "Don't EVER do that to me again." I tell her in a voice she knows not to mess with. Wow, where's that voice during other times when I need it? "You will not speak to me that way." I insist. Clearly, she has crossed the invisible boundaries I have had to put on our relationship.
The conversation proceeds and I know she feels guilty. That's why she is telling me nice things now like "I'm so sorry." And "You're really wonderful …" and blah blah blah. I've heard it all before. I want to believe she's really sorry, but I've been burnt too many times and now all the "I'm sorry's" don't really affect me anymore.
I get off the phone, following her insistence that I try and give her a hug over the phone (she needs the hug?) and was finally able to let her go. She had calmed down. Good. Maybe she won't kill herself tonight. Finally I can get off this roller coaster ride because I'm starting to feel sick. Sick in my heart extending to my soul.
But I wonder where that person went? Was it my imagination or was she ever there to begin with? In order to reach out to someone, to get close to them, you have to reveal things about yourself, open yourself up and be real, and risk getting hurt. It's the same with a mom who can't control herself. But the truth is, I think a part of me dies every time this happens. I am afraid for the day when it won't hurt me anymore because then I may hang up on her, walk away, and never look back.
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