This is certainly the biggest time of year for gifts. The Christmas holiday season seems to be surrounded by the notion of 'giving' some sort of gift. And of course over the years the gifts have become more and more materialistic. As humans we tend to evolve into 'more and more' and in the gift giving department that is certainly true. The first gifts were supposed to be symbolic gifts that the Magi gave to the Christ Child. We are supposed to emulate that every year, but it has kind of gotten out of hand, at least to my way of thinking.
The Christmas holidays of one hundred years ago were certainly different from modern times, I'm sure. There was no choice to but to make them very personal and 'home made'. There were almost no other alternatives, so people made the holiday themselves. Everything from the decorations they chose to decorate their homes with to the gifts they made, and the food that was prepared and spread out for their families. Everything was more important then, as it took a lot of time to make gifts and to put together the makings of a great feast. These days it's all about the 'instant' of anything.
We can shop online and have something delivered to our friends and family within 24 hours, and we can even get gift cards to give on our way to a friend's holiday party. Food- it doesn't have to have much thought put into it. That is another stop on the way home from work. Instant, and not much work. And sure, it's nice and it's filling, but it's not very special. Not what this holiday truly commands.
So, with all of this 'quickness' in our lives where does the feeling and thought come into our gift giving? Do people ever take the time to really find just the perfect gift to give, then anticipate the giving? Do you remember finding that great gift and really being excited about giving it? Do you remember hoping that the lucky person who was going to receive your well thought intentions really loved what you found? I certainly do. And I have been on both sides of that experience.
When I was ten years old I got a ten-speed bicycle. I couldn't believe it was under the tree, I was so excited to get it. I thanked my mom and dad, only to be told that they didn't have anything to do with it. My older brother had worked an after school job so I could have that bike that Christmas. I couldn't believe it, and even today that gift given from my brother's heart is my absolute favorite gift ever given to me. I feel so very lucky to have felt my brother's love back then.
I have also given many gifts that I hoped would please. I would buy things for my kids, early in the season, and wrap them and place them under the tree. As it got closer to Christmas Day, and I thought about what was waiting under the tree, I got more and more excited for Christmas morning. Not so I could get anything myself- nothing except the look of joy and happiness on my children's faces as they saw the presents that 'Santa' had left for them under the Christmas tree. I hope that as my children get older they are going to be anxious to experience this kind of gift giving, too. It really is 'more blessed to give than to receive'.
So, what about the ultimate gift this season? Is it really a new Maserati or great diamond bracelet? Um, I don't think so. I don't have a Maserati in my driveway, and my diamond bracelet is nice, but it doesn't bring me the happiness that I thought I would get by owning it. What kind of gift would I love to receive this Christmas? I already have it, and am reminded of it by the holiday itself. I have the gift of God's love; embodied in the form of a tiny baby born on this most holy of nights. The absolute ultimate gift- "God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son." There is no better gift than to be reminded that I am loved. The kind of love that is perfection in and of itself. It can't be bested. No matter how hard we humans may try, it just won't ever be any better than it is right now, at this moment; 12:07 am, December 25, 2008. Merry Christmas to all. I wish you all Peace, Love, and the many Blessings of this most joyous of seasons.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
In Mourning...
A friend of mine's father passed away this morning. It was quite expected, this gentleman was almost 94 and had been in declining health for several years. He was blind, and had a tumor the size of a grapefruit on his kidney. It was cancerous, but it didn't seem to spread to other parts of his body. The doctors were watching the tumor to see what would happen, they were hesitant to operate due to his advanced years. It was certainly time for him to depart this Earth. I feel a connection to him, as my husband and I purchased his family home from him a few years ago. He and his wife lived there for fifty years or so.
That isn't the main part of this. We all lose family members, it is to be expected. The only thing I really fear on this Earth is having my children die before I do. I'm not sure I could cope with it, and don't want to have to experience life without either one of them. Doing something drastic in reaction to a child's death isn't fair to the one left behind, so I would HAVE to live without one of them. It's just a hard situation that no one ever wants to face.
I tend to go through my life just like most folks- I take for granted the day to day interactions with my children. I love them to the best of my abilities, and hope that it is what they need. What I'm really discussing today is that I want them to look back at our time together here and see that it was good. I think it is. It's the best I can give them, no matter what else happens.
The time is going to come when I will pass on. I may go suddenly, or I may linger for a few years, like my friend's father. I think we all hope to pass on quickly; the suddeness of it can be harsh, but I'm sure I prefer that to watching and waiting. My mother died of cancer, and it wasn't nice to witness. I'm sure while she was ill she thought of her mortality every single day. The not knowing part is what is so tough for me. So, when I have to go I hope I drop of a sudden heart attack or something like that. Quick, to the point, and then done and over. I would like my family to get over my death and get back to the business of living as soon as possible. They have their own lives to live and don't need the life interruption that a parent who is in a long slow decline can provide. It's just really spiritually draining for the family to witness, if they are a close-knit family and really care.
Which is what I hope I have created here with my time on Earth, I hope that my family is really close-knit. I have always thought that the measure of how much I am loved is how I am mourned when I die. And I won't know that, will I? I hope that after I am gone that whenever my children speak of me they do so with much love and affection in their hearts and phrases. If I'm doing everything right on Earth then immediately after I'm gone they will have a hard time speaking about me, but as time goes on the good stories and affection that we shared will come through. I hope that it is conveyed to my grandchildren and to their friends.
I want to be missed, and I want to be mourned. It is kind of a novel idea for me- as I never mourned my father or my stepfather. Which is sad. It says to me that we didn't have a good relationship during our time here on Earth, and that is just a really hard thing to realize. They didn't take the opportunity to really know me, and I'm realizing that I am kind of a good person to know. It is their loss, and I do feel sorry for them and what we could have had.
I came to this theory after my mother passed away. I didn't realize that mourning would be something that I would do, I just never thought about it. But I honestly do mourn her. I miss my mother every single day. So, that tells me that even though we did have our problems and issues we really did love each other. And so, I do speak well of her. You have read here how I have had to integrate her life lessons into my life in a meaningful way. It can be hard at times, but it is worth the personal discovery when you do find out what someone's impact has had on you. And my mother's impact was a positive one.
So, I will continue to mourn my mother. I will miss her and speak well of her. It is what is due her now that she is in Heaven. And yes, I do believe she is there. Intent is at the heart of our Christian beliefs, and her intent was pure. So, she is with God. I'm sure of this.
As for my friend's father: I didn't know him that well, so I'm not sure how he is going to be remembered by his family. I only hope that his children and grandchildren will mourn his passing. I hope they will pause to remember the good times that they shared with him, and they will try to learn positive lessons from knowing him. I hope that they will think of him often and pray for his soul to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. I've found that it isn't sad to mourn someone when they die. It is really a good and positive thing. So, Mr. Hunt may you rest in peace.
That isn't the main part of this. We all lose family members, it is to be expected. The only thing I really fear on this Earth is having my children die before I do. I'm not sure I could cope with it, and don't want to have to experience life without either one of them. Doing something drastic in reaction to a child's death isn't fair to the one left behind, so I would HAVE to live without one of them. It's just a hard situation that no one ever wants to face.
I tend to go through my life just like most folks- I take for granted the day to day interactions with my children. I love them to the best of my abilities, and hope that it is what they need. What I'm really discussing today is that I want them to look back at our time together here and see that it was good. I think it is. It's the best I can give them, no matter what else happens.
The time is going to come when I will pass on. I may go suddenly, or I may linger for a few years, like my friend's father. I think we all hope to pass on quickly; the suddeness of it can be harsh, but I'm sure I prefer that to watching and waiting. My mother died of cancer, and it wasn't nice to witness. I'm sure while she was ill she thought of her mortality every single day. The not knowing part is what is so tough for me. So, when I have to go I hope I drop of a sudden heart attack or something like that. Quick, to the point, and then done and over. I would like my family to get over my death and get back to the business of living as soon as possible. They have their own lives to live and don't need the life interruption that a parent who is in a long slow decline can provide. It's just really spiritually draining for the family to witness, if they are a close-knit family and really care.
Which is what I hope I have created here with my time on Earth, I hope that my family is really close-knit. I have always thought that the measure of how much I am loved is how I am mourned when I die. And I won't know that, will I? I hope that after I am gone that whenever my children speak of me they do so with much love and affection in their hearts and phrases. If I'm doing everything right on Earth then immediately after I'm gone they will have a hard time speaking about me, but as time goes on the good stories and affection that we shared will come through. I hope that it is conveyed to my grandchildren and to their friends.
I want to be missed, and I want to be mourned. It is kind of a novel idea for me- as I never mourned my father or my stepfather. Which is sad. It says to me that we didn't have a good relationship during our time here on Earth, and that is just a really hard thing to realize. They didn't take the opportunity to really know me, and I'm realizing that I am kind of a good person to know. It is their loss, and I do feel sorry for them and what we could have had.
I came to this theory after my mother passed away. I didn't realize that mourning would be something that I would do, I just never thought about it. But I honestly do mourn her. I miss my mother every single day. So, that tells me that even though we did have our problems and issues we really did love each other. And so, I do speak well of her. You have read here how I have had to integrate her life lessons into my life in a meaningful way. It can be hard at times, but it is worth the personal discovery when you do find out what someone's impact has had on you. And my mother's impact was a positive one.
So, I will continue to mourn my mother. I will miss her and speak well of her. It is what is due her now that she is in Heaven. And yes, I do believe she is there. Intent is at the heart of our Christian beliefs, and her intent was pure. So, she is with God. I'm sure of this.
As for my friend's father: I didn't know him that well, so I'm not sure how he is going to be remembered by his family. I only hope that his children and grandchildren will mourn his passing. I hope they will pause to remember the good times that they shared with him, and they will try to learn positive lessons from knowing him. I hope that they will think of him often and pray for his soul to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. I've found that it isn't sad to mourn someone when they die. It is really a good and positive thing. So, Mr. Hunt may you rest in peace.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Scars...
I just got finished looking in the mirror at the makings of my newest scar. It's about four inches long and it sits right on my collarbone, just above the hollow of my throat. The incision still has the stitches and the bandage on it, that is how new it is. Why it's there doesn't really matter much. What it represents is what is important now.
We all have scars on our bodies. It's just a common fact of life, certain rites of passage. You could probably say our belly button is the first scar we receive- 'right out of the gate', so to speak. It is our indelible link to our mothers. Our 'branding', which leads us into living. I'm sure that most of us have some knee scars, scraped up knees when we were kids; learning. Learning how to catch a football, learning how to ride a bike. We probably also have scars in other places; a cut on the hand from the lid of a pet food can, the scar on your forehead where the corner of a swing hit you. Those weren't particularly fun scars to get, but we all got them and learned things like responsibility and coordination from them.
Then there are other scars, like the ones I have. I have one on the back of my left knee, it is a long distant reminder of a careless adult who was taking a nap and let a toddler get into some drain cleaner that was stored under the kitchen sink. Back when I was a baby adults didn't think of putting harmful chemicals on a high shelf in the kitchen cupboard. They didn't think about 'kidproofing' the home. Since then we have learned to be more careful.
I also have a huge scar on my stomach. It really is disfiguring, at least it is to me. It is from giving birth to my children. I didn't think much about such a thing as my own disfigurement when I was pregnant with my first child. All I could think about was having a healthy and completely whole baby. I never thought that I'd become maimed by something so natural as having a baby, but in the wee hours of the morning he was born I was. As if having this other person in my life 24/7/eternity wasn't reminder enough I carry this scar on my body. It is a corollary of our life together- having my son changed me permanently and becoming a mother is something that will never go away. I will always be a mother, that will never cease. I may be able to change my appearance some, but I'm always going to look like a mother, every time I look in the mirror that is what I will see. My plan is to have some plastic surgery on my tummy one day, it will minimize the scar, but I have the feeling the scar won't be erased completely. Which is probably alright, considering how it came to be.
Then I have my newest scar, the one mentioned above. I probably could have gone on with my life without having the surgery which leads to the new scar, but I'm not sure how great life would have been for me otherwise. Getting this scar is helping me to have better health and a better outlook on life. Even though I'm still recuperating I'm feeling excited about life. I am beginning to feel some 'zest' for living (corny word, but apt). I can see some possibilities coming along for me. Which is a great thing at this juncture in my road of life. I'm hoping that this scar heals much better than the one on my tummy. It is going to be on public display, and I don't really want a huge, ugly, shiny thing that people look at before they look at ME. That scar is NOT me, it's only a small part of what makes up my life, and certainly isn't one of the most interesting aspects of me. But, if anyone does want to know how the scar on my neck came to be I'm going to tell them I got it in a knife fight. That is way more interesting than the truth.
Everyone thinks of scars as a horrifying thing, and sometimes they are. But lots of times they are not. They can be inconvenient, sometimes painful, and ugly, too. But ultimately they are our physical proof of our very own 'life lessons'; reminders of what it takes to live life well with purpose and meaning. Everything we go through in life leaves a scar of one kind or another; how we let them heal on our bodies or in our souls is the most important lesson to be learned from these scars. They are, after all, what make us human.
We all have scars on our bodies. It's just a common fact of life, certain rites of passage. You could probably say our belly button is the first scar we receive- 'right out of the gate', so to speak. It is our indelible link to our mothers. Our 'branding', which leads us into living. I'm sure that most of us have some knee scars, scraped up knees when we were kids; learning. Learning how to catch a football, learning how to ride a bike. We probably also have scars in other places; a cut on the hand from the lid of a pet food can, the scar on your forehead where the corner of a swing hit you. Those weren't particularly fun scars to get, but we all got them and learned things like responsibility and coordination from them.
Then there are other scars, like the ones I have. I have one on the back of my left knee, it is a long distant reminder of a careless adult who was taking a nap and let a toddler get into some drain cleaner that was stored under the kitchen sink. Back when I was a baby adults didn't think of putting harmful chemicals on a high shelf in the kitchen cupboard. They didn't think about 'kidproofing' the home. Since then we have learned to be more careful.
I also have a huge scar on my stomach. It really is disfiguring, at least it is to me. It is from giving birth to my children. I didn't think much about such a thing as my own disfigurement when I was pregnant with my first child. All I could think about was having a healthy and completely whole baby. I never thought that I'd become maimed by something so natural as having a baby, but in the wee hours of the morning he was born I was. As if having this other person in my life 24/7/eternity wasn't reminder enough I carry this scar on my body. It is a corollary of our life together- having my son changed me permanently and becoming a mother is something that will never go away. I will always be a mother, that will never cease. I may be able to change my appearance some, but I'm always going to look like a mother, every time I look in the mirror that is what I will see. My plan is to have some plastic surgery on my tummy one day, it will minimize the scar, but I have the feeling the scar won't be erased completely. Which is probably alright, considering how it came to be.
Then I have my newest scar, the one mentioned above. I probably could have gone on with my life without having the surgery which leads to the new scar, but I'm not sure how great life would have been for me otherwise. Getting this scar is helping me to have better health and a better outlook on life. Even though I'm still recuperating I'm feeling excited about life. I am beginning to feel some 'zest' for living (corny word, but apt). I can see some possibilities coming along for me. Which is a great thing at this juncture in my road of life. I'm hoping that this scar heals much better than the one on my tummy. It is going to be on public display, and I don't really want a huge, ugly, shiny thing that people look at before they look at ME. That scar is NOT me, it's only a small part of what makes up my life, and certainly isn't one of the most interesting aspects of me. But, if anyone does want to know how the scar on my neck came to be I'm going to tell them I got it in a knife fight. That is way more interesting than the truth.
Everyone thinks of scars as a horrifying thing, and sometimes they are. But lots of times they are not. They can be inconvenient, sometimes painful, and ugly, too. But ultimately they are our physical proof of our very own 'life lessons'; reminders of what it takes to live life well with purpose and meaning. Everything we go through in life leaves a scar of one kind or another; how we let them heal on our bodies or in our souls is the most important lesson to be learned from these scars. They are, after all, what make us human.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Mothers...
The topic for today is Mothers. I feel qualified to write about this subject as I have had one, and I am one. There are many kinds of mothers in the Motherhood spectrum. There is one end of the spectrum where mothers try to micromanage and hover; then there is the opposite end of the spectrum- the kind of mothers that bring you into the world, then leave you to try to figure life out on your own. Most mothers fall somewhere in the middle of this range.
My mother in law is the micromanaging type. When my husband was a baby she would strap him into his bed at night, just to make sure that he didn't fall out during the night. She even sewed his baby clothes- including pockets in his little outfits. I'm sure at the time he didn't know what they were for, and probably couldn't even find them if he had wanted to. She felt that doing these things were physical proof that she loved and cared for him, she was trying to be a good mother. I'm sure that this sense of care and concern helped my husband to become the loving and compassionate man he is today.
Then there it the other end of this spectrum. I am thinking about a mother/daughter relationship that I have been witnessing for about five months now. The mother left the daughter when she was about 9 years old, and has just recently tried to come back into her child's life and become her mother again. She has failed miserably. In the ensuing eight years that the mom was gone the daughter learned how to do for herself, without her mother's guidance. I feel badly for this woman, I really ache for her. She has muffed the one pure relationship that God gives us on this Earth, and I'm not sure how she is going to ever fix it.
Then there is the topic of my own mother. I think that she falls somewhere in the middle of the 'mothering' spectrum. I honestly don't recall just climbing into my mother's lap to be held. And my mother never read a book to me at night. We didn't spend a lot of time just hanging around together because my mother wasn't a 'stay at home mom'- she had to work to put food on the table for her family. My mother was a secretary, and a damned fine one, at that. She probably knew more about her chosen field than most of the engineers she worked for. She took great pride in what she did.
My mother passed away on June 18, 1999 at approximately 10:10 pm. I had driven my family 4 days to reach her; she waited until all three of her children were with her to pass away, and even though she was in a coma she knew when we were there with her. After she passed from this Earth I kissed her forehead, then my brothers and I prayed over her and toasted her life. I miss her every single day.
But this is not to say that she and I didn't have problems. We certainly did. I had been summarily dismissed from the family home when I was 15, as I look back on that time it seems like I was 'in the way'; sending me to live with my stepfather's family was my mom' s solution to this problem. That whole experience is an entirely different story, best left to another time. Let's just say that when it happened it seemed as if my unspoken prayers had been answered- I was certainly experiencing the usual teenage angst that most kids go through- I hated my parents and couldn't even bear to be in the same room with them. So, not having to live with them seemed like a great idea at the time. After I moved, time passed and I grew used to the idea of being in the unusual situation of not living in my own home with my mother and brothers. I coped and learned to move on.
It was only after I had my first child that I realized what my mother had done. She really had chosen my stepfather over me, and I became extremely angry with her. I knew, as I held my firstborn in my arms, that I would move Heaven and Earth for him. It seemed like having him with me for eighteen years wasn't going to be nearly long enough before I had to let him move out into the world. How could my own mother have let me go when I was so young? It was a painful realization for me to come to. I couldn't help but let this anger cloud our relationship- surely there were positive lessons to be learned from my mother. It would take me a long while to figure out what they were. I never asked my mother to explain why she did the things she did, and now it's too late.
So, now I have decided that I love my mother enough to forgive her for her shortcomings. I decided that I needed to figure out what lessons she did impart to me and this is what I came up with; I learned to never quit. My mom would see a thing through to the end and wanted me to, as well. She also taught me to live with style and wit, humor was a big part of her life, and it is for me, too. She also taught me to do my best whenever I am faced with a task. It was important to her to do something well, and it's important to me, too. I have also decided that my mother loved me to the best of her ability. Was it what I needed while I was growing up? Probably not. But she still did her best, like she always taught me to do. I know for a fact that she certainly didn't hate me, and did not want to cause me harm. Almost every mother on the face of the Earth feels this way.
So, does the fact that my mother didn't sew pockets into my baby clothes mean that I should hate her? Does the fact that my mother made me grow up when I was 15 mean that she was evil? Does it mean that I am lacking in the 'mothering' department myself? I don't think so. The examples we see in our mothers actions are usually good lessons in HOW to be a mother or parent; both what we want to emulate, and what we don't want to ever become. Hopefully we can face the task of being mothers with an open mind, and in the process become the best that we can be. It's really all a mother could ever want.
My mother in law is the micromanaging type. When my husband was a baby she would strap him into his bed at night, just to make sure that he didn't fall out during the night. She even sewed his baby clothes- including pockets in his little outfits. I'm sure at the time he didn't know what they were for, and probably couldn't even find them if he had wanted to. She felt that doing these things were physical proof that she loved and cared for him, she was trying to be a good mother. I'm sure that this sense of care and concern helped my husband to become the loving and compassionate man he is today.
Then there it the other end of this spectrum. I am thinking about a mother/daughter relationship that I have been witnessing for about five months now. The mother left the daughter when she was about 9 years old, and has just recently tried to come back into her child's life and become her mother again. She has failed miserably. In the ensuing eight years that the mom was gone the daughter learned how to do for herself, without her mother's guidance. I feel badly for this woman, I really ache for her. She has muffed the one pure relationship that God gives us on this Earth, and I'm not sure how she is going to ever fix it.
Then there is the topic of my own mother. I think that she falls somewhere in the middle of the 'mothering' spectrum. I honestly don't recall just climbing into my mother's lap to be held. And my mother never read a book to me at night. We didn't spend a lot of time just hanging around together because my mother wasn't a 'stay at home mom'- she had to work to put food on the table for her family. My mother was a secretary, and a damned fine one, at that. She probably knew more about her chosen field than most of the engineers she worked for. She took great pride in what she did.
My mother passed away on June 18, 1999 at approximately 10:10 pm. I had driven my family 4 days to reach her; she waited until all three of her children were with her to pass away, and even though she was in a coma she knew when we were there with her. After she passed from this Earth I kissed her forehead, then my brothers and I prayed over her and toasted her life. I miss her every single day.
But this is not to say that she and I didn't have problems. We certainly did. I had been summarily dismissed from the family home when I was 15, as I look back on that time it seems like I was 'in the way'; sending me to live with my stepfather's family was my mom' s solution to this problem. That whole experience is an entirely different story, best left to another time. Let's just say that when it happened it seemed as if my unspoken prayers had been answered- I was certainly experiencing the usual teenage angst that most kids go through- I hated my parents and couldn't even bear to be in the same room with them. So, not having to live with them seemed like a great idea at the time. After I moved, time passed and I grew used to the idea of being in the unusual situation of not living in my own home with my mother and brothers. I coped and learned to move on.
It was only after I had my first child that I realized what my mother had done. She really had chosen my stepfather over me, and I became extremely angry with her. I knew, as I held my firstborn in my arms, that I would move Heaven and Earth for him. It seemed like having him with me for eighteen years wasn't going to be nearly long enough before I had to let him move out into the world. How could my own mother have let me go when I was so young? It was a painful realization for me to come to. I couldn't help but let this anger cloud our relationship- surely there were positive lessons to be learned from my mother. It would take me a long while to figure out what they were. I never asked my mother to explain why she did the things she did, and now it's too late.
So, now I have decided that I love my mother enough to forgive her for her shortcomings. I decided that I needed to figure out what lessons she did impart to me and this is what I came up with; I learned to never quit. My mom would see a thing through to the end and wanted me to, as well. She also taught me to live with style and wit, humor was a big part of her life, and it is for me, too. She also taught me to do my best whenever I am faced with a task. It was important to her to do something well, and it's important to me, too. I have also decided that my mother loved me to the best of her ability. Was it what I needed while I was growing up? Probably not. But she still did her best, like she always taught me to do. I know for a fact that she certainly didn't hate me, and did not want to cause me harm. Almost every mother on the face of the Earth feels this way.
So, does the fact that my mother didn't sew pockets into my baby clothes mean that I should hate her? Does the fact that my mother made me grow up when I was 15 mean that she was evil? Does it mean that I am lacking in the 'mothering' department myself? I don't think so. The examples we see in our mothers actions are usually good lessons in HOW to be a mother or parent; both what we want to emulate, and what we don't want to ever become. Hopefully we can face the task of being mothers with an open mind, and in the process become the best that we can be. It's really all a mother could ever want.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
True Happiness...
I just Googled the word 'happiness' and came up with bunches of different ideas about what happiness is. It's definitions, how to get it, what to do with it, where to put it. It's a state of mind, it's even a movie from 1998. Wow.
It seems that quite a few people are really concerned with the topic of Happiness and how to find it in our lives. I found a 'happiness workbook' so you can jot down ideas and work on exercises to help you define it for yourself. There is even a lady who is writing a book about happiness, she is trying to put all the techniques that she had heard of into practice. She is giving herself a year to find out if they work or not. I wonder how close she is to reaching her goal. What is going to happen to her if she doesn't find happiness using the time tested principles that she has found? That could be really bad for humanity.
What about our own personal pursuit of happiness? We are guaranteed the right to pursue it by the US Constitution. That is our birthright, one of the main benefits of being born an American, I would think. We can legally do whatever it is that we feel we need to in order to find it. Which is pretty cool, to my way of thinking. As long as we don't tread on other people's rights to pursue it, that is. Once we start that then the entire process starts to get messed up big time; we can't go after our own happiness while trampling someone else's. So, we need to keep that in mind before we go crazy looking for happiness.
About once a month or so my husband asks me if I'm happy 'yet'. This question makes me weary, like happiness is a destination that I should have arrived at long ago. Yes, I suffered from a nasty bout of depression a few years back. I was really low, and wondered if I could feel better ever again. Not being on this Earth looked like a really great idea at the time- that is how badly I felt. But, I did indulge in a bit of chemical therapy, and over the course of two years I did emerge from that dark hole. And I do feel much better about life in general.
But, it wasn't a direct lack of 'happiness' in my life that sent me into that depression. Not at all- back then I had everything that any person would want: A beautiful and vibrant family, a wonderful home that is so much more than what 99% of the rest of the planets' inhabitants get to live in. I had good health, and I had intelligence. All of the makings of 'happiness' I would guess. So, what in the hell was MY problem? I had it easy, happiness should have gone hand in hand with my life. I was proof that happiness and depression could not coexist together.
The term 'happiness' never entered into that picture. It wasn't that I was or wasn't lacking in that department, my problem with depression was about so much more than not being able to grasp and hold on to mere fleeting happiness. And, with all of this talk of defining what happiness is, I'm still not sure what it takes to have it. Maybe I have it already and don't know it? You hear people talk all of the time about a certain time in their lives and how it was 'the happiest' time for them. Did they know it when they were experiencing it? Or is happiness something that we realize we have experienced AFTER the fact? Is happiness really that fleeting that we are unable to recognize it when we are living it? Perhaps we humans have too many expectations about happiness and it's real importance in life- happiness is one of those concepts that is seemingly larger than life itself.
Whatever you may adopt as your definition of happiness, one thing is for sure; it IS out there, somewhere. How do I know this? Because we can't have sadness without some sort of opposite, which in this case is happiness. It may be in the laughter of a child, it may be in the color of your favorite flower. Or it could just be one of those undefinable things that we keep pursuing while we are busy living our regular lives. Hopefully for all of us we won't need to look back at our past to discover that we have had it in our present, and hopefully our present will continue to contribute to a happy future. I'll let you know.
It seems that quite a few people are really concerned with the topic of Happiness and how to find it in our lives. I found a 'happiness workbook' so you can jot down ideas and work on exercises to help you define it for yourself. There is even a lady who is writing a book about happiness, she is trying to put all the techniques that she had heard of into practice. She is giving herself a year to find out if they work or not. I wonder how close she is to reaching her goal. What is going to happen to her if she doesn't find happiness using the time tested principles that she has found? That could be really bad for humanity.
What about our own personal pursuit of happiness? We are guaranteed the right to pursue it by the US Constitution. That is our birthright, one of the main benefits of being born an American, I would think. We can legally do whatever it is that we feel we need to in order to find it. Which is pretty cool, to my way of thinking. As long as we don't tread on other people's rights to pursue it, that is. Once we start that then the entire process starts to get messed up big time; we can't go after our own happiness while trampling someone else's. So, we need to keep that in mind before we go crazy looking for happiness.
About once a month or so my husband asks me if I'm happy 'yet'. This question makes me weary, like happiness is a destination that I should have arrived at long ago. Yes, I suffered from a nasty bout of depression a few years back. I was really low, and wondered if I could feel better ever again. Not being on this Earth looked like a really great idea at the time- that is how badly I felt. But, I did indulge in a bit of chemical therapy, and over the course of two years I did emerge from that dark hole. And I do feel much better about life in general.
But, it wasn't a direct lack of 'happiness' in my life that sent me into that depression. Not at all- back then I had everything that any person would want: A beautiful and vibrant family, a wonderful home that is so much more than what 99% of the rest of the planets' inhabitants get to live in. I had good health, and I had intelligence. All of the makings of 'happiness' I would guess. So, what in the hell was MY problem? I had it easy, happiness should have gone hand in hand with my life. I was proof that happiness and depression could not coexist together.
The term 'happiness' never entered into that picture. It wasn't that I was or wasn't lacking in that department, my problem with depression was about so much more than not being able to grasp and hold on to mere fleeting happiness. And, with all of this talk of defining what happiness is, I'm still not sure what it takes to have it. Maybe I have it already and don't know it? You hear people talk all of the time about a certain time in their lives and how it was 'the happiest' time for them. Did they know it when they were experiencing it? Or is happiness something that we realize we have experienced AFTER the fact? Is happiness really that fleeting that we are unable to recognize it when we are living it? Perhaps we humans have too many expectations about happiness and it's real importance in life- happiness is one of those concepts that is seemingly larger than life itself.
Whatever you may adopt as your definition of happiness, one thing is for sure; it IS out there, somewhere. How do I know this? Because we can't have sadness without some sort of opposite, which in this case is happiness. It may be in the laughter of a child, it may be in the color of your favorite flower. Or it could just be one of those undefinable things that we keep pursuing while we are busy living our regular lives. Hopefully for all of us we won't need to look back at our past to discover that we have had it in our present, and hopefully our present will continue to contribute to a happy future. I'll let you know.
I Must Be Living Right...
Or at least happily, as I haven't entered anything new here in almost a month. I seem to write when I have a lot to unload, so lately I must be handling life fairly well.
I do have some concerns: The first being the market- and by that I mean the stock market. I am trying to learn how to make a living by trading in the market. And no, this is not a 'get rich quick' kind of approach, like the cheezy programs you see on TV at the New Year. I don't take any 'stock tips' that people may send my way, I just study almost 110 different stocks and am learning which ones seem to move best at particular times of the year- I base my trading upon that knowledge. I've been doing this for the past 2.5 years, trying to learn and apply what I learn on a daily basis. I'm on a 'five year plan' to become self sufficient by doing this, and it is just my luck that I have entered the market at one of the most crisis filled times in its' history. Figures. But, at least I have an excuse for not being able to do better- if the really seasoned pros can't figure out what in the world is going on, then how can I be expected to? (That rationalization always makes me feel better...) But I do know that if I just am patient and keep at it I am going to be able to take good care of myself. So, for now I just watch what goes on and journal about it a lot. A whole lot.
Next concern: The usual- my weight is driving me crazy. I am at a real plateau- have been at the same place for almost 6 months. And it's not like I sit on my fat butt all day; I DO go to the gym six times a week and try to watch what I eat. So, I'm thinking that there is something else going on- but I also know that my body hates me. It really does. But this is going to be a case of mind over body. I will persevere. I just hate the thought of not being able to shop for the cute clothes in the 'regular' racks. I don't ever want to have to shop in plus sized areas ever again. That is really a depressing thought. I like not having so much of myself around these days. I feel better, and I like the fact that people don't overlook me like I don't exist- which was quite common a few years ago. That is a really awful feeling to have. It's nice to be noticed again.
The economy: And not just the stock market. The huge bailout is really only a bandaid, which is hard to believe, but I think it's true. We have some underlying problems with our society/economy and they aren't going away any time soon. I think we are going to head into an economic depression within the next 5 years or so. Not a great prospect to look forward to- how well insulated does a person have to be to not be horribly affected by this? What will it take to keep food on the table and a roof over our heads? That is a big question. And not only that- but since I have this feeling ahead of time does it mean that I should work harder and save more just to find out that in the end it's all been for nothing? Will my hard earned nestegg just evaporate? Will I be left with less than nothing? And if I lose it all what about those poor folks who are barely scraping by right now? What will become of them? The uncertainty is really hard to deal with. I don't know how my mother's generation did it.
OK- guess I have unloaded for now. I feel a bit better by putting some of my issues out here for all to see. Letting go of them is a good thing to do, even though it won't really make a huge difference in most people's lives. That's OK, this is MY blog, so it really is all about me today.
I do have some concerns: The first being the market- and by that I mean the stock market. I am trying to learn how to make a living by trading in the market. And no, this is not a 'get rich quick' kind of approach, like the cheezy programs you see on TV at the New Year. I don't take any 'stock tips' that people may send my way, I just study almost 110 different stocks and am learning which ones seem to move best at particular times of the year- I base my trading upon that knowledge. I've been doing this for the past 2.5 years, trying to learn and apply what I learn on a daily basis. I'm on a 'five year plan' to become self sufficient by doing this, and it is just my luck that I have entered the market at one of the most crisis filled times in its' history. Figures. But, at least I have an excuse for not being able to do better- if the really seasoned pros can't figure out what in the world is going on, then how can I be expected to? (That rationalization always makes me feel better...) But I do know that if I just am patient and keep at it I am going to be able to take good care of myself. So, for now I just watch what goes on and journal about it a lot. A whole lot.
Next concern: The usual- my weight is driving me crazy. I am at a real plateau- have been at the same place for almost 6 months. And it's not like I sit on my fat butt all day; I DO go to the gym six times a week and try to watch what I eat. So, I'm thinking that there is something else going on- but I also know that my body hates me. It really does. But this is going to be a case of mind over body. I will persevere. I just hate the thought of not being able to shop for the cute clothes in the 'regular' racks. I don't ever want to have to shop in plus sized areas ever again. That is really a depressing thought. I like not having so much of myself around these days. I feel better, and I like the fact that people don't overlook me like I don't exist- which was quite common a few years ago. That is a really awful feeling to have. It's nice to be noticed again.
The economy: And not just the stock market. The huge bailout is really only a bandaid, which is hard to believe, but I think it's true. We have some underlying problems with our society/economy and they aren't going away any time soon. I think we are going to head into an economic depression within the next 5 years or so. Not a great prospect to look forward to- how well insulated does a person have to be to not be horribly affected by this? What will it take to keep food on the table and a roof over our heads? That is a big question. And not only that- but since I have this feeling ahead of time does it mean that I should work harder and save more just to find out that in the end it's all been for nothing? Will my hard earned nestegg just evaporate? Will I be left with less than nothing? And if I lose it all what about those poor folks who are barely scraping by right now? What will become of them? The uncertainty is really hard to deal with. I don't know how my mother's generation did it.
OK- guess I have unloaded for now. I feel a bit better by putting some of my issues out here for all to see. Letting go of them is a good thing to do, even though it won't really make a huge difference in most people's lives. That's OK, this is MY blog, so it really is all about me today.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
An Attitude of Gratitude...
This is what I have cultivated over the span of the last five or six days. There are a few reasons why, and I will elaborate on them. But just know that it has been a really long-assed week.
#1: I do NOT have breast cancer. For that I am extremely grateful. For a few days this past week that was real possibility. I am not quite fifty, yet. So I have figured that my good health was a given. I have had the great fortune to be pretty darned healthy all of my life. No congenital diseases, no risky behaviors leading to dire consequences, nada. I hardly ever drink and I have never smoked, so it would seem that I am a shoo-in for a long life.
This week that theory was almost thrown out the window. But at least now the doctor has assured me that I'm still cancer-free. At least as far as my breasts are concerned. Good, just one less thing to have to deal with.
#2: I'm grateful that I don't have to trade on the open market to make a living. Not as of now, at least. This week I stood by and watched the American economy take a nose dive and wondered what I would do. I have been learning how to trade on the market for about 2.5 years now. I mean I have been studying it very diligently. There are times when I feel that my confidence level is right up there and I do a bit of trading. Some successful, some not so much. But, I can see the merits of doing this for a living, so I stick with it. I know that as I do this my expertise will grow and I will be extremely successful at it.
This week was a real test of my willingness to continue forward. I know that there were quite a few people out there who actually made a killing on a falling market, I understand the mechanics of the thing enough to know this. But, when I went to put it into practice, put my very real money on the line, I just didn't feel like it was right. So, I stood by on the sidelines and watched the stock market roller coaster up and down, like an attraction at Busch Gardens. With my cancer scare, it was kind of hard to really concentrate on what was going on, but at the end of the week I am glad that I sat it out. I still have my own 'nut' to trade with. I didn't lose a dime, which is fine. One thing I have learned with the market- there will be other opportunities coming around later. And I will be able to utilize them.
#3: My husband returned from Iraq in one piece, safe and sound. For that I am extremely grateful, too. When I look back on his photos it looks like he was actually enjoying himself, as hard as it may seem. He was in his military element, after all. He got a chance to see history being rewritten right in front of him. (He actually sat on one of Saddam Hussein's thrones. A photo that he would rather not think about, as he's embarrassed by the 'tourist' aspect of it. I think it's kinda cool myself, a sort of 'conquering army' kind of moment. The great-grandchildren will love that picture in years to come.) Among the adventures he got to participate in was a sandstorm that lasted almost 3 days, he woke up daily to a fine dusting of sand all over his bunk. He also got to see first hand what an amazing force the United States Military really is. There is no finer group of soldiers in the entire world.
But, now he is back home- it took nanoseconds for him to get used to being 'free and easy', the American way. Sometimes I feel we take too much for granted. But that is why Art went to Iraq in the first place- to make sure that we all can continue to live as we are accustomed.
So, all in all it was a really busy week. A week fraught with lots of problems, but one that I'm glad I got to participate in. There were a lot of trials that I had to face on my own. But, I guess that is why God gave me the head that is currently on my shoulders. He knew that I would be able to handle what was presented to me. And yeah, I'm grateful for the vote of confidence.
#1: I do NOT have breast cancer. For that I am extremely grateful. For a few days this past week that was real possibility. I am not quite fifty, yet. So I have figured that my good health was a given. I have had the great fortune to be pretty darned healthy all of my life. No congenital diseases, no risky behaviors leading to dire consequences, nada. I hardly ever drink and I have never smoked, so it would seem that I am a shoo-in for a long life.
This week that theory was almost thrown out the window. But at least now the doctor has assured me that I'm still cancer-free. At least as far as my breasts are concerned. Good, just one less thing to have to deal with.
#2: I'm grateful that I don't have to trade on the open market to make a living. Not as of now, at least. This week I stood by and watched the American economy take a nose dive and wondered what I would do. I have been learning how to trade on the market for about 2.5 years now. I mean I have been studying it very diligently. There are times when I feel that my confidence level is right up there and I do a bit of trading. Some successful, some not so much. But, I can see the merits of doing this for a living, so I stick with it. I know that as I do this my expertise will grow and I will be extremely successful at it.
This week was a real test of my willingness to continue forward. I know that there were quite a few people out there who actually made a killing on a falling market, I understand the mechanics of the thing enough to know this. But, when I went to put it into practice, put my very real money on the line, I just didn't feel like it was right. So, I stood by on the sidelines and watched the stock market roller coaster up and down, like an attraction at Busch Gardens. With my cancer scare, it was kind of hard to really concentrate on what was going on, but at the end of the week I am glad that I sat it out. I still have my own 'nut' to trade with. I didn't lose a dime, which is fine. One thing I have learned with the market- there will be other opportunities coming around later. And I will be able to utilize them.
#3: My husband returned from Iraq in one piece, safe and sound. For that I am extremely grateful, too. When I look back on his photos it looks like he was actually enjoying himself, as hard as it may seem. He was in his military element, after all. He got a chance to see history being rewritten right in front of him. (He actually sat on one of Saddam Hussein's thrones. A photo that he would rather not think about, as he's embarrassed by the 'tourist' aspect of it. I think it's kinda cool myself, a sort of 'conquering army' kind of moment. The great-grandchildren will love that picture in years to come.) Among the adventures he got to participate in was a sandstorm that lasted almost 3 days, he woke up daily to a fine dusting of sand all over his bunk. He also got to see first hand what an amazing force the United States Military really is. There is no finer group of soldiers in the entire world.
But, now he is back home- it took nanoseconds for him to get used to being 'free and easy', the American way. Sometimes I feel we take too much for granted. But that is why Art went to Iraq in the first place- to make sure that we all can continue to live as we are accustomed.
So, all in all it was a really busy week. A week fraught with lots of problems, but one that I'm glad I got to participate in. There were a lot of trials that I had to face on my own. But, I guess that is why God gave me the head that is currently on my shoulders. He knew that I would be able to handle what was presented to me. And yeah, I'm grateful for the vote of confidence.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
The Word of the Day...
STRESS
There are a lot of definitions for the word stress. It all depends on how you want to use it; you can use the word in phonics (to put the stress on a particular syllable of a word), or you could use it to define the mechanics of a thing (the ratio of force to an area). But most of us relate to the word 'stress' as it applies to our physical being- the specific response that our body has to an unpleasant event, or series of events, in our life.
I will use the latter definition for now.
Some of the symptoms I have experienced lately, and will continue to experience (I suppose) are: Grinding of teeth, anxiety, restlessness, sadness, anger, crying spells, relation conflict. That is a lot to have to put up with. But it's nothing unusual for me. Especially when I have to deal with the fact that my husband is leaving the country for a while.
Yep, he is going to Iraq. And within the next 10 days. That is the bad news, the good news is that he will only be gone for about two weeks. I found this out for certain this morning. If that doesn't produce some of the aforementioned symptoms of stress in a person, then I don't know what will.
But, the worst part of all of this is that I really can't show him how I'm dealing with this situation. Nope. That wouldn't be very 'military' of me. My husband and I spent 20 years in the Army; he as the active duty member, and me as his loving and supportive wife. I was the one who reassured him that everything would be fine in his absence, then waved goodbye with a sallow smile on my lips. And I did this countless times over the years, he was gone a hell of a lot then. He certainly paid his dues, or so I thought.
He doesn't feel that way, about the 'paying dues' part that is. He feels that if there are 20 year old men and women serving overseas, in harms way, then he should do everything he can to help them out. And that must include going over to Iraq to make sure the programs that he works on are being utilized the best way possible. Keep our troops functioning and safe. OK, I guess I can't argue with that reasoning. If I did then I would be a true selfish putz.
I'm sure that in the coming month I will be revisiting this topic frequently. There is a lot of stress coming my way. I know that he is going to be safe, and he'll be back home before I have gotten used to him being gone.
Stress- it's the word of the day.
There are a lot of definitions for the word stress. It all depends on how you want to use it; you can use the word in phonics (to put the stress on a particular syllable of a word), or you could use it to define the mechanics of a thing (the ratio of force to an area). But most of us relate to the word 'stress' as it applies to our physical being- the specific response that our body has to an unpleasant event, or series of events, in our life.
I will use the latter definition for now.
Some of the symptoms I have experienced lately, and will continue to experience (I suppose) are: Grinding of teeth, anxiety, restlessness, sadness, anger, crying spells, relation conflict. That is a lot to have to put up with. But it's nothing unusual for me. Especially when I have to deal with the fact that my husband is leaving the country for a while.
Yep, he is going to Iraq. And within the next 10 days. That is the bad news, the good news is that he will only be gone for about two weeks. I found this out for certain this morning. If that doesn't produce some of the aforementioned symptoms of stress in a person, then I don't know what will.
But, the worst part of all of this is that I really can't show him how I'm dealing with this situation. Nope. That wouldn't be very 'military' of me. My husband and I spent 20 years in the Army; he as the active duty member, and me as his loving and supportive wife. I was the one who reassured him that everything would be fine in his absence, then waved goodbye with a sallow smile on my lips. And I did this countless times over the years, he was gone a hell of a lot then. He certainly paid his dues, or so I thought.
He doesn't feel that way, about the 'paying dues' part that is. He feels that if there are 20 year old men and women serving overseas, in harms way, then he should do everything he can to help them out. And that must include going over to Iraq to make sure the programs that he works on are being utilized the best way possible. Keep our troops functioning and safe. OK, I guess I can't argue with that reasoning. If I did then I would be a true selfish putz.
I'm sure that in the coming month I will be revisiting this topic frequently. There is a lot of stress coming my way. I know that he is going to be safe, and he'll be back home before I have gotten used to him being gone.
Stress- it's the word of the day.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Apathy, Lethargy, and Indifference
This is a bit different from my usual entries here. Unlike a lot of Americans these days the upcoming presidential election is weighing kind of heavy on me.
Ever since the debacle of 2000 I have been paying a bit more attention to what goes on in politics. Not that it really matters in the long run, it's just that in 2000 the American people got caught with their pants down around their ankles, and the country hasn't been the same since. Lots of people fell into the catagory of "Me Vote? Why? What Good Would It Do?" They were 'too busy' to pay even the smallest attention to who was running, and what their platforms were about. So, George Bush was voted in. 'Nuff said...
I like to think that if Al Gore had been elected, even just for one term, we wouldn't be the laughing stock of the world. Thank you, W. Thank you, 43. Thank you, El Presidente. Thanks for nothing. You should have quit while you were ahead, standing on the smoking ruins of the World Trade Center consoling a stunned nation. But no, you had to push your still unfathomable, secret agenda on a still grieving nation and we bought it- hook, line, and sinker.
Yep, we were done with 'killing Commies for Christ' in the 1980s, so now we were on to some new adventure. Some new way to flex our American muscle on an unsuspecting world. Some new way for some movers and shakers behind the scenes to make some enormously sweet moola, which is what I think the entire fiasco in Iraq is ultimately about. There were no WMDs there, nothing but some delusional two bit hustler by the name of Saddam Hussein who was wreaking havoc on his poor countrymen. Not really our business. Nope. But you, Dear George, made it ours, which I had a very bad feeling in the pit of my stomach about. I cringe whenever I think about Colin Powell testifying before Congress about how we had to invade Iraq. He was made to look the fool, along with the rest of his countrymen. No wonder why he resigned and left the Bush administration, his humiliation was deep.
These days the administration tries to palm off the excuse that Al-Quaida was there in Iraq back then, and we had to go get 'em. Not true. At the time that was never given as the reason why we were invading Iraq. Never. Not until recently. What a bunch of hooey. Don't get me wrong- I was all for our precious military going into Afghanistan to find the sick bastards that that sent all those innocent Americans to their deaths on September 11, 2001. I thought it was an easy decision, and I still think it was the right thing to do. The American Military did a good job there, and they aren't finished. But they are close. It's the rest of it that I don't get- but at least now we ALL know that Baghdad isn't just a place from The Arabian Nights, don't we?
Why do I bring all this obscenity up? (And yes, it IS obscene. The way the power of the Presidency has been misused by George W. Bush and Co. is nothing short of obscene.) Because it all comes down to being very much our fault; the American people's fault. We were consumed with apathy, lethargy, and indifference about what goes on in our very own country. Our beautiful, rich, blessed, amazing country that our forefathers gave their lives to form, preserve, and protect. Shame on all of us for ignoring this gift that we live with so very easily day after day.
So, now I ask you that as we start to watch the election process begin, yet again, to make sure that you PAY ATTENTION to what is being said by both candidates that are running for the office of the Presidency of the United States of America. Pay attention people!!!! It's just kinda important, doncha think? If you haven't registered to vote yet- then trot your behinds down to voter registration and do so. Then on election day, November 4, 2008 to be exact, VOTE. It is painless, and it doesn't take very long to exercise your right to have your voice heard. There are many people on the face of this earth that do not have the gift of having their voices heard this way. Many people have died to make this privilege available to us. So, don't let their efforts die in vain. It's the least that we can do.
Ever since the debacle of 2000 I have been paying a bit more attention to what goes on in politics. Not that it really matters in the long run, it's just that in 2000 the American people got caught with their pants down around their ankles, and the country hasn't been the same since. Lots of people fell into the catagory of "Me Vote? Why? What Good Would It Do?" They were 'too busy' to pay even the smallest attention to who was running, and what their platforms were about. So, George Bush was voted in. 'Nuff said...
I like to think that if Al Gore had been elected, even just for one term, we wouldn't be the laughing stock of the world. Thank you, W. Thank you, 43. Thank you, El Presidente. Thanks for nothing. You should have quit while you were ahead, standing on the smoking ruins of the World Trade Center consoling a stunned nation. But no, you had to push your still unfathomable, secret agenda on a still grieving nation and we bought it- hook, line, and sinker.
Yep, we were done with 'killing Commies for Christ' in the 1980s, so now we were on to some new adventure. Some new way to flex our American muscle on an unsuspecting world. Some new way for some movers and shakers behind the scenes to make some enormously sweet moola, which is what I think the entire fiasco in Iraq is ultimately about. There were no WMDs there, nothing but some delusional two bit hustler by the name of Saddam Hussein who was wreaking havoc on his poor countrymen. Not really our business. Nope. But you, Dear George, made it ours, which I had a very bad feeling in the pit of my stomach about. I cringe whenever I think about Colin Powell testifying before Congress about how we had to invade Iraq. He was made to look the fool, along with the rest of his countrymen. No wonder why he resigned and left the Bush administration, his humiliation was deep.
These days the administration tries to palm off the excuse that Al-Quaida was there in Iraq back then, and we had to go get 'em. Not true. At the time that was never given as the reason why we were invading Iraq. Never. Not until recently. What a bunch of hooey. Don't get me wrong- I was all for our precious military going into Afghanistan to find the sick bastards that that sent all those innocent Americans to their deaths on September 11, 2001. I thought it was an easy decision, and I still think it was the right thing to do. The American Military did a good job there, and they aren't finished. But they are close. It's the rest of it that I don't get- but at least now we ALL know that Baghdad isn't just a place from The Arabian Nights, don't we?
Why do I bring all this obscenity up? (And yes, it IS obscene. The way the power of the Presidency has been misused by George W. Bush and Co. is nothing short of obscene.) Because it all comes down to being very much our fault; the American people's fault. We were consumed with apathy, lethargy, and indifference about what goes on in our very own country. Our beautiful, rich, blessed, amazing country that our forefathers gave their lives to form, preserve, and protect. Shame on all of us for ignoring this gift that we live with so very easily day after day.
So, now I ask you that as we start to watch the election process begin, yet again, to make sure that you PAY ATTENTION to what is being said by both candidates that are running for the office of the Presidency of the United States of America. Pay attention people!!!! It's just kinda important, doncha think? If you haven't registered to vote yet- then trot your behinds down to voter registration and do so. Then on election day, November 4, 2008 to be exact, VOTE. It is painless, and it doesn't take very long to exercise your right to have your voice heard. There are many people on the face of this earth that do not have the gift of having their voices heard this way. Many people have died to make this privilege available to us. So, don't let their efforts die in vain. It's the least that we can do.
Friday, August 22, 2008
The Seven Deadly Sins...
One of the seven deadly sins, greed, has reared it's ugly head in my life. Not that I have fallen prey to it, well not lately at least. A person that I know has been caught red handed, as it were, and now has the world's judgement upon her head. Not a great position to be in. It is certainly her own doing, but I still feel sorry for her.
If you are of the puritanical bent then this feeling is not new to you. As kids we are instilled with 'sharing'; our papers, pencils, sandwiches. We are taught that greed is not something that we should ever be comfortable dealing with. We are taught to run away from it at all costs, which we TRY to do when we are little. As we get older we start to rationalize many things in our daily lives as a way to cope with what we live with and do, and greed is just one of those things that kind of creeps up on us. We go from an extra cookie before dinner to the entire cookie jar's contents when we think no one is looking. And this is just what happened to my acquaintence. I'm not sure where the idea came to just 'skim a bit off the top' one month from the proceeds that she was accountable for. It was mostly cash contributions, after all. Who could really tell how much was taken in, nevermind how much was being stolen? The temptation was there staring her in the face. And she gave in.
So, instead of just taking 'one cookie' before dinner she was well on her way to emptying the entire jar. The only thing is that what she has done couldn't be ignored as easily as she thought. She figured that she had it down pat and no one was really paying attention to what she was doing. But, when you make lots of cookies and find that the cookie jar is continually empty you start to look at who has access to it to find out why it's empty. Sooner or later you hope to catch the individual responsible.
My acquaintence will tell you that she has a great excuse for why she stole the money that she did. She 'couldn't help herself', or some such thing. And yes, she was weak willed. She is facing her own demons; bad health, an unhappy marriage, addiction to luxury brands. Lots of reasons 'why', but the word 'morality' never enters into the discussion, which is too bad.
In our present society 'morality' is a word that is seldom used. Which is a shame, as it's an excellent word to keep in your heart at all times. We need a bit more 'morality' in our everyday lives, it seems. But should it be up to society to continually teach us what morality means? Or is it something that we should learn when we are young and then integrate into our selves and follow every day, just like sharing. Maybe in times past morality was discussed more frequently than it is today so people don't think it's very important, but it is still there trying to guide us, if we will simply listen to what we know to be right. Just because we don't talk about morality much doesn't give anyone the excuse to indulge in any of the seven deadly sins. No matter how full the cookie jar may be.
If you are of the puritanical bent then this feeling is not new to you. As kids we are instilled with 'sharing'; our papers, pencils, sandwiches. We are taught that greed is not something that we should ever be comfortable dealing with. We are taught to run away from it at all costs, which we TRY to do when we are little. As we get older we start to rationalize many things in our daily lives as a way to cope with what we live with and do, and greed is just one of those things that kind of creeps up on us. We go from an extra cookie before dinner to the entire cookie jar's contents when we think no one is looking. And this is just what happened to my acquaintence. I'm not sure where the idea came to just 'skim a bit off the top' one month from the proceeds that she was accountable for. It was mostly cash contributions, after all. Who could really tell how much was taken in, nevermind how much was being stolen? The temptation was there staring her in the face. And she gave in.
So, instead of just taking 'one cookie' before dinner she was well on her way to emptying the entire jar. The only thing is that what she has done couldn't be ignored as easily as she thought. She figured that she had it down pat and no one was really paying attention to what she was doing. But, when you make lots of cookies and find that the cookie jar is continually empty you start to look at who has access to it to find out why it's empty. Sooner or later you hope to catch the individual responsible.
My acquaintence will tell you that she has a great excuse for why she stole the money that she did. She 'couldn't help herself', or some such thing. And yes, she was weak willed. She is facing her own demons; bad health, an unhappy marriage, addiction to luxury brands. Lots of reasons 'why', but the word 'morality' never enters into the discussion, which is too bad.
In our present society 'morality' is a word that is seldom used. Which is a shame, as it's an excellent word to keep in your heart at all times. We need a bit more 'morality' in our everyday lives, it seems. But should it be up to society to continually teach us what morality means? Or is it something that we should learn when we are young and then integrate into our selves and follow every day, just like sharing. Maybe in times past morality was discussed more frequently than it is today so people don't think it's very important, but it is still there trying to guide us, if we will simply listen to what we know to be right. Just because we don't talk about morality much doesn't give anyone the excuse to indulge in any of the seven deadly sins. No matter how full the cookie jar may be.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Procrastination is NOT my friend...
I wanted to say something about this before, but figured I'd get around to it later. Yeah, it's an old joke, but if you suffer from this very real problem, it's not really much of a joke.
There are people in the world who grab ideas/challenges/issues by the throat and simply deal with them, then there are people like me. I like to think that I'm 'deliberate' or I'm just simply taking my time in deciding HOW I'm going to deal with an issue. Sometimes(I hope) by the time I get around to dealing with it the time has come and gone and my attention is no longer needed. I positively HATE busy work, and I feel that 75% of what I am 'supposed' to deal with is just that- busy work that has been created to fill the void of the yawning hours that loom before me. Created by someone other than myself who really doesn't want to see me idle. That is how I justify what I do.
Now, how to deal with what is left over? That is another question unto itself. I have found that when I ignore something one of two things happens: It goes away, or I am left to deal with the consequences of my inaction. I am all for the 'going away' part, and lots of time whatever I'm trying to ignore proves to be something that (apparently) wasn't important to begin with. Good. At this point in my life I've decided that I certainly will take responsibility for the results of my inaction, it's the adult thing to do. But so far the consequences have been slight. (Okay, once I had to go down to the city treasurer's office to pay my water bill so the water could be turned on again. I swear I had paid it, but I guess I got busy with something else. Oh well...) But over the years I've tried to make sure that the really important things get taken care of. You know- other bills, laundry left outside too long, returning annoying phone messages. I'm not trying to give the impression that I don't care, because I DO. But it really needs to be about something important, not just the fluff of everyday living. My time is really limited, I don't want to spend it doing mindless tasks. Sorry, but that is the way I feel.
So, next time you see someone who you think is a Procrastinator Extraordinaire, just try to remember what I've said. We aren't trying to ignore you, and we certainly don't think what you are asking isn't of any importance. It's just that people like me are trying to assess if it falls into the 75% or not. If it does then, well... I'll get back to you.
There are people in the world who grab ideas/challenges/issues by the throat and simply deal with them, then there are people like me. I like to think that I'm 'deliberate' or I'm just simply taking my time in deciding HOW I'm going to deal with an issue. Sometimes(I hope) by the time I get around to dealing with it the time has come and gone and my attention is no longer needed. I positively HATE busy work, and I feel that 75% of what I am 'supposed' to deal with is just that- busy work that has been created to fill the void of the yawning hours that loom before me. Created by someone other than myself who really doesn't want to see me idle. That is how I justify what I do.
Now, how to deal with what is left over? That is another question unto itself. I have found that when I ignore something one of two things happens: It goes away, or I am left to deal with the consequences of my inaction. I am all for the 'going away' part, and lots of time whatever I'm trying to ignore proves to be something that (apparently) wasn't important to begin with. Good. At this point in my life I've decided that I certainly will take responsibility for the results of my inaction, it's the adult thing to do. But so far the consequences have been slight. (Okay, once I had to go down to the city treasurer's office to pay my water bill so the water could be turned on again. I swear I had paid it, but I guess I got busy with something else. Oh well...) But over the years I've tried to make sure that the really important things get taken care of. You know- other bills, laundry left outside too long, returning annoying phone messages. I'm not trying to give the impression that I don't care, because I DO. But it really needs to be about something important, not just the fluff of everyday living. My time is really limited, I don't want to spend it doing mindless tasks. Sorry, but that is the way I feel.
So, next time you see someone who you think is a Procrastinator Extraordinaire, just try to remember what I've said. We aren't trying to ignore you, and we certainly don't think what you are asking isn't of any importance. It's just that people like me are trying to assess if it falls into the 75% or not. If it does then, well... I'll get back to you.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
"Another Saturday Night..."
Which is the title of a Cat Stevens song, but it is also where I am this evening. Yep, another boring Saturday night. What is with this particular time of the week? We all work like crazy to get here, and then when we are here it just kind of slinks by. Especially as we get older.
When I was young I lived at the beach. I think back now and it was pretty idyllic. I was responsible for me, and only me. The only bill I had was my rent every payday. I didn't pay utilities, and I didn't own a car. I hardly ate much, either. By the time I was 18 I was completely on my own, and that is how I ended up living by the ocean. I grew up 'Out West', but once I got to the East Coast that was it- I have loved being here ever since.
Anyway, I lived in a tiny little seaside resort town in southern Maine, my boarding house was two blocks away from the beach, and during the summers I had every other night off. So that meant going home after work, getting cleaned up, then heading back down to the oceanfront, and my friends. Sometimes my boyfriend had the night off, sometimes not. My friends and I would just wander around town, stopping in at my families' restaurant (where we all had summer jobs) to see our other friends that were working (and my boyfriend), going over to the arcade for pinball or skee ball, or sometimes going to the movies. It seemed like every Saturday night the waitresses at the restaurant would be having a party so if we were working we headed over there after work, or if I had the night off I would be there by 8pm. It was something to look forward to. A great way to spend my Saturday nights.
Then by the time I got to college I was well versed in the Saturday night ritual of partying. Especially at my university, the University of Maine- our school song was 'The Maine Stein Song'. No joke, how could we NOT party? The cool thing about being at university is that the weekend really starts on Thursday evening- if you don't have an exam on Friday. So by the time 'Saturday Night Live' came on at 11:30 pm we all had our fill of the party life and were ready for a quiet Sunday. But we did utilize our Saturday nights to their fullest. Ahhh, what an education!
I think after graduation Saturday nights went downhill steadily. We all grew up and got real lives- lives that involved structure and responsibility. Sure, we all tried to keep Saturday nights open so we could get to know our new friends at our new jobs better, but they all started to do stuff like get married and have families. That pretty much quashed Saturday nights for them. And then for folks like me. Heck, I even married my boyfriend I met in Maine, and we ended up just kind of 'vegging' in front of the TV on most Saturday nights. We didn't want to spend our money going out, we 'had plans' for a future. And here we are, living in our 'future', but it doesn't include going out.
We are home on Saturday nights, still. Well, maybe before too long we can get back into the groove- start going out again. Will it be like it was before? I don't think so. Saturday nights now won't ever be like they were when I was 18. They might be OK, but they will never live up to the ones I had then. At my age I don't think I could stand it.
When I was young I lived at the beach. I think back now and it was pretty idyllic. I was responsible for me, and only me. The only bill I had was my rent every payday. I didn't pay utilities, and I didn't own a car. I hardly ate much, either. By the time I was 18 I was completely on my own, and that is how I ended up living by the ocean. I grew up 'Out West', but once I got to the East Coast that was it- I have loved being here ever since.
Anyway, I lived in a tiny little seaside resort town in southern Maine, my boarding house was two blocks away from the beach, and during the summers I had every other night off. So that meant going home after work, getting cleaned up, then heading back down to the oceanfront, and my friends. Sometimes my boyfriend had the night off, sometimes not. My friends and I would just wander around town, stopping in at my families' restaurant (where we all had summer jobs) to see our other friends that were working (and my boyfriend), going over to the arcade for pinball or skee ball, or sometimes going to the movies. It seemed like every Saturday night the waitresses at the restaurant would be having a party so if we were working we headed over there after work, or if I had the night off I would be there by 8pm. It was something to look forward to. A great way to spend my Saturday nights.
Then by the time I got to college I was well versed in the Saturday night ritual of partying. Especially at my university, the University of Maine- our school song was 'The Maine Stein Song'. No joke, how could we NOT party? The cool thing about being at university is that the weekend really starts on Thursday evening- if you don't have an exam on Friday. So by the time 'Saturday Night Live' came on at 11:30 pm we all had our fill of the party life and were ready for a quiet Sunday. But we did utilize our Saturday nights to their fullest. Ahhh, what an education!
I think after graduation Saturday nights went downhill steadily. We all grew up and got real lives- lives that involved structure and responsibility. Sure, we all tried to keep Saturday nights open so we could get to know our new friends at our new jobs better, but they all started to do stuff like get married and have families. That pretty much quashed Saturday nights for them. And then for folks like me. Heck, I even married my boyfriend I met in Maine, and we ended up just kind of 'vegging' in front of the TV on most Saturday nights. We didn't want to spend our money going out, we 'had plans' for a future. And here we are, living in our 'future', but it doesn't include going out.
We are home on Saturday nights, still. Well, maybe before too long we can get back into the groove- start going out again. Will it be like it was before? I don't think so. Saturday nights now won't ever be like they were when I was 18. They might be OK, but they will never live up to the ones I had then. At my age I don't think I could stand it.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Friends...
"When the character of a man is not clear to you, look at his friends."
-Japanese proverb
And that certainly holds true today. A few years ago I would have thought that I was 'characterless', if there is such a word. See, I have moved so much in my lifetime that I have had many, many friends over the course of the years, but not very many have remained so. I seem to have lived what I felt was a random life; not a lot of grounding. I have never had much problem making friends, it's just that I never had the hearts' desire to maintain relationships with them. I have lived so many places and for such short periods of time that I knew that sooner or later I would have to sever those ties that bind, and I got used to it and grew to accept it as part of my life.
The first major test of this was as a kid- heck, I didn't even have much of a solid relationship with my own father. Yes, my parents divorced when I was young. So, for me it was always natural that I didn't have that strong bond with my own father. Easy come, easy go. My mom and step dad moved us around a lot, so I didn't have that 'looking forward to the next year in school' kind of anticipation at seeing my friends again. More often than not I knew I wouldn't ever see them again. You learn to adapt, and you learn not to get too emotionally involved. But, along with learning to move on you do move on... I tried to get excited about living across the street from Disneyland (no joke- when I was about 13 we lived in a hotel across the street from my beloved Disneyland for almost a month. It was great- we saw the fireworks every night...) And I could also drum up some enthusiasm for moving back to Arizona and close to my stepbrother and stepsister, whom I adore to this day. So it wasn't all bad.
But I kinda digress... The 'lasting friend' department was pretty empty. Until now. Over the course of the past few years I have made some incredible friends, and I have decided to work hard to keep them in my life. This is kind of fun- I get phone calls telling me the everyday kinds of things that keep me 'in the loop' about my friends lives. I get funny/silly/ridiculous/sad emails that really ring true to me. Cards and gifts at Christmas, and, best of all, I get visits from these friends. I was stunned the first time one of them wanted to bring her entire family here to see me. ME? Yes, me. We had a blast.
The real reason I'm writing about this today is that one of my friends is going through a very dark time. Her child has been sick with cancer, and we all have been worried beyond belief about her prognosis. Right now things are looking up for her, and we are all grateful to God for sparing her precious young life.
But that's not the main thing here- the main thing is that my friend and her husband are finally getting to see what loving is all about. WE, as her friends, here in my home, and in her hometown, are able to give back some of the love and friendship to them that they have given without any hesitation to us. She seems stunned by all the community outpouring of love that is being shown. I'm not. I just appreciate the opportunity to be a (small) part of what is going on for her. I'm happy to have some 'friend' continuity in my life for a change. And, if my Japanese proverb is true, I'm really happy to be able to 'see' my character, because it really is stellar, just like my friends.
-Japanese proverb
And that certainly holds true today. A few years ago I would have thought that I was 'characterless', if there is such a word. See, I have moved so much in my lifetime that I have had many, many friends over the course of the years, but not very many have remained so. I seem to have lived what I felt was a random life; not a lot of grounding. I have never had much problem making friends, it's just that I never had the hearts' desire to maintain relationships with them. I have lived so many places and for such short periods of time that I knew that sooner or later I would have to sever those ties that bind, and I got used to it and grew to accept it as part of my life.
The first major test of this was as a kid- heck, I didn't even have much of a solid relationship with my own father. Yes, my parents divorced when I was young. So, for me it was always natural that I didn't have that strong bond with my own father. Easy come, easy go. My mom and step dad moved us around a lot, so I didn't have that 'looking forward to the next year in school' kind of anticipation at seeing my friends again. More often than not I knew I wouldn't ever see them again. You learn to adapt, and you learn not to get too emotionally involved. But, along with learning to move on you do move on... I tried to get excited about living across the street from Disneyland (no joke- when I was about 13 we lived in a hotel across the street from my beloved Disneyland for almost a month. It was great- we saw the fireworks every night...) And I could also drum up some enthusiasm for moving back to Arizona and close to my stepbrother and stepsister, whom I adore to this day. So it wasn't all bad.
But I kinda digress... The 'lasting friend' department was pretty empty. Until now. Over the course of the past few years I have made some incredible friends, and I have decided to work hard to keep them in my life. This is kind of fun- I get phone calls telling me the everyday kinds of things that keep me 'in the loop' about my friends lives. I get funny/silly/ridiculous/sad emails that really ring true to me. Cards and gifts at Christmas, and, best of all, I get visits from these friends. I was stunned the first time one of them wanted to bring her entire family here to see me. ME? Yes, me. We had a blast.
The real reason I'm writing about this today is that one of my friends is going through a very dark time. Her child has been sick with cancer, and we all have been worried beyond belief about her prognosis. Right now things are looking up for her, and we are all grateful to God for sparing her precious young life.
But that's not the main thing here- the main thing is that my friend and her husband are finally getting to see what loving is all about. WE, as her friends, here in my home, and in her hometown, are able to give back some of the love and friendship to them that they have given without any hesitation to us. She seems stunned by all the community outpouring of love that is being shown. I'm not. I just appreciate the opportunity to be a (small) part of what is going on for her. I'm happy to have some 'friend' continuity in my life for a change. And, if my Japanese proverb is true, I'm really happy to be able to 'see' my character, because it really is stellar, just like my friends.
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