If a Giant… by Teeni
Posted on November 23, 2008 - Filed Under Deep thoughts, Guest Post, in my head, life metaphor, my opinions
If a giant reached out to touch a freshly mown field of grass, would it feel the same to him as velvet would feel to a normal sized person?
Yes, it’s an odd little pondering, I admit. But in recent years, thoughts like this have begun rolling around in my mind more often. Like marbles in a wooden labyrinth, they roll tentatively from one end of my brain to the other, desperately avoiding the holes that will send them into oblivion, where they will be forever misplaced in my faulty memory banks. Some of these ideas survive, fortunately, because I try to write them down before they escape me. They want to be more than just ideas, I think. They want to grow and if I let them, I think they will become much more.
I don’t know if there are more of these wonderings in my head now or if I am just more aware of them. So many things have changed for me in such a short time. I have no idea where to lay the blame. Could it be one of the many medical diagnoses or the treatments I’ve endured? Or is it just normal wisdom coming with old age?
I’ll probably never know how or why things happened the way they did. But I do know that my brain doesn’t work the way it used to. I don’t have the attention span I used to have and my memory stinks. But other things have changed as well. I feel more creative. I’m much more reflective. I can laugh at myself more. I learn in smaller pieces but I make it interesting and try to apply things. I enjoy it. I have ideas. I entertain them and let them linger in my mind, no matter how silly they may be. Ideas and creativity are extremely important. So I don’t stifle mine anymore or shoot them down. They may not all go somewhere but that’s okay.
Everything begins with an idea. And I’m beginning to think that it is healthy to just soak in your creative ideas at times. It is important to free your mind from stresses and periodically just let it wander … and wonder, learning odd things here and there as it goes. I think it helps keep your mind young, fresh, and alive. And you shouldn’t have to schedule a weekend away to do it. Take a few minutes at a time. Learn to relax, breathe deeply. Allow your mind to switch into a lower, slower and calmer gear. Ideas great and small will begin to form without much coaxing, if you will only allow them to. Open up and let them form. They may take you someplace big in life. Or they may just remain interesting, entertaining little ideas.
The question at the beginning of the post occurred to me when my husband and I were driving in the car, most likely on our way home from a food shopping trip – a very mundane task, I know. But I look at things a lot differently now. In the passenger seat beside my handsome man, I looked over and saw a field of freshly mown grass with a little hill in the middle of it. It looked like a giant palm could have fit there like a long-lost puzzle piece. I tried to picture how it would feel if I were fifty times my current size. I visualized stretching out my enormous arm and placing my gargantuan hand right in the middle of that sweet smelling field. Individual blades of grass would be miniscule compared to my oversized hand. Would I even feel them at all? Would they register in my consciousness? I think they would. I think they would feel like a carpet of cool, soft velvet. I might even pass my hand back and forth a little bit to “pet” the grass, “fluffing” up any blades that had been bent over and immersing myself in its sensation, the reaction it evoked from me.
Maybe this one wasn’t my million-dollar idea. But I let the idea grow. And it did. It turned into this post.
Always wonder.
Always learn.
Always love.
Always laugh.
Always live.
Thanks for letting me get a little creative and expressive over here, Annie. Hugs to you and to anyone reading – thanks for your time!
Fate
Posted on September 16, 2008 - Filed Under brain farts, clueless, fate, in my head
Is there such a thing? Really? Or do we just convince ourselves that a number of coincidences add up to it?
Is everything that happens in our lives meant to happen. Are we meant to meet the people we meet? Become friends, lovers, in-laws. Is it all going according to some master plan? Or do we have some wiggle room? I’m a bit torn on the issue there are certain things that have happened in my life that I truly believe were meant to be. That were inevitable. That no matter what I did or where I turned that that situation, event or person would have still found their way into my life. It’s a little spooky actually to feel that way about something or someone, and luckily it doesn’t happen too often for me or I’d really be whigged out about it. Although it does happen often enough that I have to wonder, are some things meant to be?
On the other hand, so much of life is random, inexplicable and wild. There is nothing master plan or organized about it. As though we are all just thrown into a white water river and must do our best to ride the rapids down to the peaceful water, if there is any. And if we can stay alive long enough to get there.
I have come to the conclusion that it must be a mixture that somehow there is a fate of sorts. Perhaps it has to do with one’s own master plan, one’s own dream and needs in life and on occasion life let’s us have something we really want or to be with someone we really want to be with - so that when it screws us over continually on most everything else we can feel grateful?
Possibly even feel like we have some cause or control over our own destinies. I do prefer to think that way, rather than believe that everything is already planned and mapped out. If that is the case, then what point is there in living my life? What point is there in making any plans? None I think.
Still….there are those moments that seem overwhelmingly destined to happen, that you know were meant to be. Maybe life is just trying to confuse us? I’m not sure I have any point here. What do you think? Opinions, ideas, recipes?
Reconciliation
Posted on August 4, 2008 - Filed Under Deep thoughts, breathe, in my head, only dancing
An interesting word. One with many nuances and layers but in the end is about coming to terms and restoring that which was. I have had a lot of time to consider this word and the action of same. And to see how very difficult it can be and all of the reasons why it is so difficult and yet so easy to do, to offer, to want.
Mistakes are made, words are uttered and regretted, or worse, unspoken and left to the imagination to grow into disportionate size and significance - and that which was so simple five minutes ago is suddenly a raging beast with its sites set on you, while you were only just going along minding your own business. It can be a shock to the system and the source of much confusion and distress.
Ah, I wax philosophic and speak in circles, yes, I admit it because I’m looking for the truth of it and quite honestly have not found it. And I want to. It is important to me to understand what is true in my own and in the lives of others I care about. But maybe too important to me about others because I have a tendency to worry less about myself and more about others and go so far over the limit to help, to comfort and console that I forget that I need these things too. And in the forgetting stumble upon land mines that I had no idea were there.
It would be so easy to just shrug it off, forget it, move on. I like going for the easy route because it is more comfortable and makes for a smoother ride and then you aren’t really required to look at the dynamics at play and how you had a part in them. In the end though, you always do have to examine those and come to grips and do what you can to learn from them and move on. So, I am trying to do that in my own haphazard way while always keeping my eye on the very beautiful things in my life - the large and the small things, not let any of it miss my notice and acknowlegement. And though I don’t think things will ever be as they were - I do hope that perhaps in a way they will be better with a deeper understanding and a stronger ability to forgive and forget.
Thanks for indulging in my talking out loud piece. I do apologize if it makes no sense to anyone but me.
Suprise, Shock & Horror
Posted on July 15, 2008 - Filed Under Life, bad hair day, in my head, my opinions
Despite my tendency toward ascerbic humor and wise-assedness - there has always been a part of me that is trusting and guileless (long may she live). So, it is always a suprise when life bitch slaps me in the face and screams, “Open your eyes, you idiot!”
Oh no, I don’t want to look, there, I think. Please, just go away and leave me to my bubble. It’s so nice and insulated here, can’t you just please leave me alone?
Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way. Sometimes, my big bubble is burst on a daily basis and sometimes in a big and most alarming way. A way so obvious and looming that I simply cannot live in the State of Denial any longer. (And really, have you been to the State of Denial? It’s gorgeous, peaceful, has very low taxes and crime rates and is very affordable.)
But…as usual, I digress…
Recently, I’ve had a couple of big bubble bursts (the details of which aren’t neccesary to enumerate here) and a really surprising thing happened: It didn’t destroy my world. I didn’t have to retire to my bed with the woe-is-me-flu and a bottle of Advil. In truth, I’m taking it all pretty calmly .
I don’t know how, where or when, but I’ve come to see that one person, event or even tragedy does not bring my world to a heart-stopping end. No. It doesn’t. It can sure muck up the works sometimes but I’ve got plenty of 409, so clean up isn’t that hard to accomplish.
And while it might be a pain in the ass or worse, a pain in the heart, I know that, this too shall pass.
Maybe I’ve just realized that every one of us have our own special brand of hell - and it’s the thing that binds us, rather than separates us. That my pain is not more special than others’, nor is misery my exclusive real estate but rather a commune in which we all have a timeshare.
A surprise, shock and horror to the little bubble does suck, but it only destroys you if you let it. Don’t let it.
Driven (to distractions?)
Posted on July 10, 2008 - Filed Under adventure, brain farts, imagination, in my head
I’ve never thought of myself as driven. Truth be told I’ve always thought that I was somewhat lazy. If you ask my mother, I had an answer for everything. I thought that came from having a sharp mind or being like my dad or possibly both.
I do have a high IQ and spent many years of my life trying to hide that fact. You know, wanting to be just one of the gang, not wanting to stand out? God forbid that any of my friends should know I had a brain and that I knew how to use it. So, in my formative years, my time and energy was devoted to consealing my terrible secret.
Quite possibly, that is why the path of my life seems to the casual eye, so driftless and aimless. I am a slacker by all standards harsh and otherwise. I go off in all directions, like a gun on crack - never knowing what target I’ll be aiming at next. Or so I thought. Actually, now I’m thinking not so much.
Since I’ve made the ill-advised foray into self employment or as we like to call it out here in unemployment land, freelancing - I’ve come to find that there is a certain trajectory I have plotted for myself. In fact, I’m a writer. And truthfully, have always been. Even when I couldn’t read or write I was writing stories in my head. I was making up shit with wild abandon. In my imagination I have been married to William Tell, Eric Clapton, all of the Monkeys, Robert Dinero and Rudy Richards. Of course, none of them were aware of this and probably that’s for the best. But I digress….
The point here is that I am driven. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought that I could spend 18 hours at a computer keyboard without even noticing the time going by. That I could spend those hours looking for ‘markets’ and ‘jobs’ and ‘gigs’ and buffing up resumes and looking for ‘clients’ and such. I never thought I would find it more important than eating or socializing or watching television. I never thought I would ever be driven toward anything. Or amount to anything. Of course, the numbers aren’t in on that one yet - so it’s always a possibility - still, my drive seems to say no.
And even though there are many times, sometimes in the course of a single hour, where I think it’s time to pack it in and give up. To go and get a ‘job’ and join the rest of the human race in normal life, something happens. Unexpected money, an offer of work, something…and my drive gets reinforced even more.
It’s a curious thing to realize that I’m not really that laid back, easy going slacker chick that I’ve fancied myself to be all these years. That I have big ambitions and a never ending drive, but realize it I have.
I’ve no idea where it will lead but I must say I will be fascinated to see how it all turns out.
How about you? What are you driving or what’s driving you?
Something in the Air?
Posted on June 13, 2008 - Filed Under Current Events, clueless, in my head
Every now and then, you hit a rough patch in life. It always seems to come out of nowhere and often comes when it seems you are just about to hit your stride. Whenever that happens I find myself getting wound up into the twisty road of ‘why’.
In the last few weeks, lots of stuff has been swirling all around. A friend of mine is very concerned about their parent, my friend Kelly, as most of you know, was in a very bad car accident, Roomie’s friend was just diagnosed with cancer and still other friends are having difficulties too, to a lesser degree. It makes me wonder, is there something in the air?
I tend to be a little supersticious, or maybe just paranoid - but this is very unsettling to me. Although, this year has been filled with lots of changes, some good, some bad, generally speaking my life tends to be even and calm. When something gets in the mix that riles that up, I look inward to see if there is something I’m doing that is causing it. In this case, it wouldn’t seem so, since most of it is happening around me and isn’t specifically about me. Which makes it worse because there is precious little I can do about it, except watch it unfold.
Since Kelly’s accident, it is nearly impossible for me to not to think about it and her most of the time. I find it hard to concentrate on the rest of my life but know that I must. I will be no good to her or anyone else if I steep myself in worry and concern and don’t focus on the daily tasks that are necessary to get on in life. Yet, when I do this, I feel guilty as though I am letting her down. Truth be told, I felt that way the entire time I was in Seattle. Not only could I not fix things (an unrealistic goal, of course, but that has never stopped me) but I was so distressed and upset personally, that I spent much of my time there trying not to fall apart around Kelly and her family - especially her children. Consequently, I spent a lot of time out on their deck, late at night, crying when everyone else was asleep.
Maybe that is the normal response to situations like this, I really don’t know - the last time I had someone in my life in a critical and dire condition was when I was twelve years old and my grandfather was in and out of the hospital. From that standpoint, I should count myself as lucky, because most of the people in my life are healthy and happy and doing well.
I could just adopt the view that sometimes things just happen. That is true enough, yet still, with Kelly it shouldn’t have happened - not because she is my friend or because she is a good person - but because it just doesn’t fit. She is an adventurous woman, an excellent driver, very perceptive and intuitive and doesn’t fit the profile of someone who would get into an accident. I just can’t get that out of my mind. I just can’t stop wondering what happened - was she upset just before the accident, did something get her so riled up that she wasn’t paying attention? These questions and many more swirl around in my head whenever I think about it but I find no answers - and may never.
As far as I can tell, Kelly wasn’t aware of my being there and/or if she was, she didn’t know me. It’s possible that that part of her memory is gone and she may never know me again - except in the context of now. As though life came along and decided to pluck parts of her life away from her and is holding them hostage for an unknown ransome.
And though it’s futile and not well-advised I can’t but help to ask, why? Why Kelly? Why now? Maybe someday I’ll find the answer but for now, I am stuck with only the the continuous and never ending winding road of questions.
Not Good Enough
Posted on March 31, 2008 - Filed Under in my head, introspection
Not Good Enough. Ever feel that way? I know I do. Often. Too often. In fact, it is quite possibly the bane of my existence. Well, maybe not the bane of my existence but it is the thing that I have the hardest time shaking and always has been.
When that feeling hits me, I do a little internal search. Why? Why do I feel that way? Is there some deep, dark secret or a devastating buried memory that makes me feel that way? But then, logic never helps when it comes to things like that, does it? It seems the bad feelings, the feelings of inadequacy and non-deserving-ness (yes, I just made up a word) don’t come from a place of logic. They come from a place of feelings. Bad feelings.
But where do those come from? Other people? Did somebody give me a sour look when I was four and had just completed my master mud pie? And did that somehow crush a tiny piece of my soul, which I’ve been trying to get back ever since? Or has it just been a steady and continual erosion over the years. A look here, a word there?
Or worse, does it come from inside me? Just my own self-destructive alter ego, vying for time and attention? It seems I have lots of questions about this but very little in the way of answers.
I sometimes think that that is why I became a writer. To solve the feelings of ‘not good enough’ - as though I believed that if I could just write it out the feelings would evaporate. Never to be seen or heard from again. And in a way, I suppose it’s worked. When I was a kid and I got upset, the first thing I would do was write a poem or a story to work out the feelings or upset. Sometimes it would help and others it would drive me further into the sense of despair and hopelessness. No matter, I still write to some degree for that reason. Though mostly I write because I have something inside of me that needs to get out. It is constantly seeking new and silly ways to get out too. From stories to poems to haikus to jokes, to wise-ass remarks.
I sometimes marvel at this thing. What is it? Where did it come from? Does it belong inside of me or should we see if the zoo has a space for it? Then it ocurs to me that maybe it’s just me trying to get out. Just me, saying, ‘Pay attention to me. I am worthy. I matter.’
The truth is I will probably never know - no matter how much I try. No matter how much I want to know. I will never figure out why I sometimes feel I’m just not good enough. How about you?
WC
Overload
Posted on September 23, 2007 - Filed Under Humor, brain farts, in my head
I don’t know what it is about life. There are periods of time when everything goes great. The job is great, your diet is working, you have more good hair days than bad, your dentitst compliments you on your dental hygiene and the dog does as it is told. Then there are other times when nothing goes right, the job is a drag or worse, your friends don’t have time for you, your brain is ensconsed in a permanent fog and all you want to do is watch sitcom reruns and eat Cheetos.
Unfortunately, lately, I’m in the latter phase. My mind is elsewhere. If I could find it I might be able to talk some sense into it. If I could locate the synapses that are currently refusing to fire I could dash off my usual 6-7 posts a week. If I could find my ass with two hands I could get my dreary errands and paperwork done. If I could remember what it was that I was going to do, I could go there.
Although, I’ve managed to dress myself and arrive at work on a daily basis - I’ve remembered to eat (sort of) and I try not to leave the house without make up - I’m still just going through the motions. And it’s annoying the hell out of me. I’m not a slacker by nature, in fact I’m a bit obsessive about getting things done and taken care of, at least for the most part. But I can’t seem to shake the lethargy. I can’t seem to make myself do the things I need to do, want to do.
Nothing grabs me or interests me. I’m null. Void. Empty. This sucks.
Though I’ve pondered what could be the trouble I’ve come up with nothing. There is no terrible situation in my life. No emergencies. Nobody sick or injured. No bill collecters calling me. In fact, even the telemarketers have backed off. My well ordered life seems to be clipping along just fine, without me. Weird huh?
It has occurred to me that my job is bad for my brain. It seems to be this ravenous creature that feeds on fresh brain cells and each day it seems to need more. Each day before I go into that office, I suck in a breath and tell my brain cells to go to sleep, lest they experience the torture of being eaten whilst fully awake. I bumper car my way through the day, thinking mostly of when I can leave and get out of that space. This ain’t good. Yes, I already know this. I am making plans to jump ship, soon. I have a few things I have to finish first. But in the meantime….
I guess what I am trying to figure out is how to wake up my brain cells after I leave the job from hell. They don’t seem to want to rouse after sleeping all day and I really need them. I have been feeding them vitamins and protein drinks, fresh air and good books - but still they waffle. Or maybe they are a waffle. It could be. Anything is possible.
So, during my brain fart phase I may go missing for a few days. My comments or responses may seem a bit off. I may seem a bit off. And I am. But it’s just me battling with my brain, trying to herd the cells back into the corale. Nothing more, nothing less.
Hopefully a new brainy phase will follow. Hopefully, the nap has done them good and they will open the door to new and wonderous things for me to tell you about and talk about. Hopefully, they haven’t all run away from home, looking for a smarter and better host who won’t subject them to mind numbing stimuli and bad food.
In the meantime, if you see any of my brain cells please send them home.
WC
Different
Posted on September 12, 2007 - Filed Under brain farts, in my head
Early in life, I learned that I was different. And it wasn’t something I wanted to be. I longed to be like everyone else. I wanted to play with the cool kids, like roller skating, play with Barbie dolls and do all the things that normal little girls do.
Instead, I read books while sitting under a tree in the park. Alone. I had friends, but I made them one at a time. In my post toddler years it was Sandy Evanuick who lived a few houses down from mine. Who had long brown pigtails and had to wear saddle shoes - which I thought were really cool until I started grade school. Ooops, not so much. Sandy and I were inseperable until they moved away to California. I was heartbroken and kept to my books and forgot about making friends until junior high. Dorothy Rehbine, another brunette, became a fast friend and remained so all the way through high school. But then she married her high school sweetheart and I moved onto other things.
Try as I might, I never got the hang of being popular or cool. I dressed weird (I guess), I acted weird, didn’t seem to be into the swing of things. With the exception of Rudy Richards whom I met in kindergarten and who harrassed me throughout gradeschool, boys didn’t seem too interested in me. Nor I in them. Boys were icky and smelly, not very smart and didn’t like to read.
Yes, I knew I was different. I knew that I was never going to be a cheerleader, a yuppie, a fundraiser, politician or celebrity. You had to be charming and pretty and popular and know the code of the popular people. You needed to understand how to flirt and use your wiles to get what you wanted. You weren’t supposed to just say exactly what you thought, or wanted or believed. You weren’t supposed to be indifferent to parties and proms, frilly dresses, hairstyling and batting eyelashes.
Instead of peers, I sought out adults to converse with. I frequently had conversations with my mother over cups of tea, discussing the dynamics of family politics and diplomatic and not so diplomatic ways to deal with same.
I started a babysitting service, lied about my age and worked as a waitress, bought my own books and clothes, cut my own hair. I employed my own brain to execute my life, such as it was. I was my own person. Lonely as it was sometimes, it was to be my path in life. And most of the time it was okay with me. Most of the time I didn’t mind that my phone didn’t ring off the hook on Friday nights and had so many invitations that my biggest problem was which one to decline.
But sometimes I wondered - What is it like to be popular? What is it like to be normal? How would my life be different if I had been?
Did I become a writer because I was different, or was I different because I was a writer? Did I just know my mind and myself so early in life that I effectively bypassed my childhood and moved straight into adulthood? Mom used to say I was born 40. Maybe she was right.
What about you? Are you different? When did it first dawn on you? Do you wish you weren’t?
WC
A World of Our Own?
Posted on August 24, 2007 - Filed Under Random Thoughts, brain farts, in my head, my opinions, society
Technology is a beautiful thing. The conveniences it has given us and the simplicity it has made of once tedious work is nothing short of miraculous. But, in the words of one of my readers - are we enjoying the technology or is it enjoying us?
We have so many gadgets to give us creature comfort that we nearly never have to leave the house. As long as we have a computer, a phone, internet connection and a credit card we are set. We could easily begin to feel that really there is no one else in the world for all of the digging in we do in our little nests. We cocoon to coin a popular phrase.
It is any wonder that when we are actually out in the world our behaviour is less than amicable? We squeeze into spaces, nearly sending the car behind us in a ditch, but don’t notice because we have the a/c, stereo system and the cell phone going. We screech down residential neighborhoods at 3 a.m. with our music so loud it’s breaking crystal in someone’s house. We cut into line and don’t see the dismayed looks on other line mates’ faces. We yak to our friends while the movie is playing. Talk on cell phones anywhere, allowing all to hear everything there is to know about our lives, relationships and troubles. Our children run rampant, like wild animals through shopping malls, restaurants and groceries stores because we don’t believe in suppressing their desire to be free beings, even though they are giving everyone else mild heart attacks. We plug in our Ipods and giggle, gaggle and bang out the drum line on the table top, never noticing that the racket is bothering others.
All because of technology? Or is it us? Have we become so embedded in our own toys and gadgets of convenience that we no longer see the other people in the world. Or know that there are other people there? And when we notice them, are we confused by the strange or angry looks, the rude gestures? The stunned, gaping mouths?
It has been said of previous generations that it was all about me. But I’m wondering if that is a thing of the past or the present. Is the me generation still alive and well? If they lost their technology tomorrow, would they have the people skills and thinking skills to survive, to work in tandem with others and make it? Or would they just sit in a corner crying because they can no longer plug in, tune out and float in a world meant only for them? I wonder. Do you?
