At the conclusion of every year, I run through every day, every moment and chose at least five that I am most satisfied with. The only thing different about this year is that I am sharing the top five on my blog:
5) Learning To Run
I'm nowhere near being an expert at this new hobby of mine, but I've fallen in love with it. I still can't run for longer than three minutes at a time, but I'm getting better at sticking with it!
4) Quitting My Job
Every time I leave a job, I feel a little bad about it. I always pour my heart into the company, and - as much as I may vent about the boss, the company, etc. - I always live and breathe for whoever I am working for. Also, I always have another job, working for another company lined up before I leave. Alas, this time was different! And now I get to live and breathe for myself - and remind myself every day that I can do it on my own!
3) My First "Third Sister" Having a Baby Girl
With two older sisters, you would think I had enough "sister" to go around. Fortunately, there is always room for a "third" sister, and my cousin was the first one in my life to claim that title. I'm excited for all of my cousins when they have babies, but this is the first baby in that generation on that side of the family, which is special, especially considering that that Grandmother passed away this summer. The baby is adorable, the couple is happy and healthy, and none of us could be more elated!
2) My Sister Getting Engaged
Some sisters play "Wedding" together when they're young; we played "Apartments." Nonetheless, I couldn't be happier for my sister and her fiance. I always wanted a younger brother.... but I'm elated to be getting my older brother-in-law!
1) Getting My Own Apartment
I've lived alone before, but not as permanently as this arrangement. I love it! It is the perfect location - close to the university, the breeding ground of new ideas; a two-minute walk to the lrt, the fastest section of public transportation in Edmonton; and two blocks from the River Valley, where I began running this spring. :-D Life is GOOD!
Friday 31 December 2010
Thursday 30 December 2010
amphigory
a nonsense verse or composition
The children delighted in the book's amphigory and in the bright, colorful illustrations that accompanied the foolish rhymes.
Did You Know?
The author of the 18th-century French play l'Amphigouri may have coined this term from the Greek words amphi, meaning "around," and agoria, which means "speech," perhaps modeling his coinage on the word "allegory." One common form of amphigory uses letter combinations and sentence structures that don't normally occur in the language; that's the type Lewis Carroll used in "Jabberwocky," a poem whose title has since become another general term for meaningless speech or writing.
Page-A-Day Calendar
www.pageaday.com
Workman Publishing
The children delighted in the book's amphigory and in the bright, colorful illustrations that accompanied the foolish rhymes.
Did You Know?
The author of the 18th-century French play l'Amphigouri may have coined this term from the Greek words amphi, meaning "around," and agoria, which means "speech," perhaps modeling his coinage on the word "allegory." One common form of amphigory uses letter combinations and sentence structures that don't normally occur in the language; that's the type Lewis Carroll used in "Jabberwocky," a poem whose title has since become another general term for meaningless speech or writing.
Page-A-Day Calendar
www.pageaday.com
Workman Publishing
Wednesday 29 December 2010
beatific
having a blissful appearance
A beatific smile spread across Grandmother's face as she reminisced about her wedding day.
Did You Know?
"Beatific," from Latin beatificus ("making happy"), first occurred in English in the phrase "beatific vision," a theological allusion to the direct sight of God enjoyed by the blessed in heaven. Although "beatific" originally meant "conferring happiness," the word now more frequently means "expressing happiness" and a blissfully joyful look or appearance may be called "beatific."
Page-A-Day Calendar
www.pageaday.com
Workman Publishing
A beatific smile spread across Grandmother's face as she reminisced about her wedding day.
Did You Know?
"Beatific," from Latin beatificus ("making happy"), first occurred in English in the phrase "beatific vision," a theological allusion to the direct sight of God enjoyed by the blessed in heaven. Although "beatific" originally meant "conferring happiness," the word now more frequently means "expressing happiness" and a blissfully joyful look or appearance may be called "beatific."
Page-A-Day Calendar
www.pageaday.com
Workman Publishing
Defining The Quarter Life Crisis
I've been working on this one for a little bit, so I apologize in the delay...
I was at a party the other night, and I was asked what I do now that I've left the bank. After answering that question a few times prior to the party, I jumped right in with the fact that I am blogging. The music blog is the easiest one to understand, but I couldn't leave out this one. This is more of your traditional blog - sub-regular rants on life, getting older, and the difficulties of merely being alive and having emotions - yet it is the one that I talk the least about. So, standing in front of a dozen or so people, I began my explanation...
This blog was actually the beginning of it all. Well, no, that's not entirely correct. The first one was supposed to be about my travels in England, but that didn't pan out. So, then, when I got back I started this one. Remember, two years ago when I faced the possibility of being 100% unemployed for like six weeks? That I would like to mark as the beginning of the crisis. (...although truthfully, I wasn't all too rational in my decision to move to England, either,... I guess I'll just leave it up to future analysts of my autobiography...)
After running through a quick list of what I am doing as a writer (and the side jobs, as well), the party broke down into smaller groups. This is always ideal. I hate parties where everybody tries to talk to one another and you just sit around in a big circle pretending to all care about the same subject matter. I never connect well with a large group of strangers, but I hit it off BIG TIME one-on-one with new friends. (My friend would later thank me for bridging the gap between her different groups of friends, which I took as a huge compliment. I love meeting new people, so I love going to parties where I have the opportunity to do exactly as I did there. It was nice that my skill was appreciated. AND, if you're ever throwing a mixer with a wide array of people, you know who to call!)
As several conversations erupted, I found myself at the corner of the buffet table, talking to a scientist. He seemed interested in my blogs, and we began talking about this one. I went through a brief history of it, and he seemed confused. "What do you mean by 'Quarter Life Crisis'?"
"Well," I began. "You know how people, when they're in their late forties, early fifties and they suddenly change careers or start dating somebody half their age?"
His confusion did not seem to be lessening, so I continued.
"Well, I'm too young to be doing that!" (I paused for a laugh, but there was none...) "...but, well, I think there is this common feeling among people of our generation, you know, that are in their twenties and faced with similar concerns about their life. They start asking themselves, 'is this REALLY what I want to do for the next forty or fifty years?'; 'will I be happy with this decision five years from now?'; or sometimes even, 'why haven't I accomplished that yet?!?' These are all valid concerns, and, I've found that writing about it makes me feel better. And my readers, when they comment, are going through the same things."
He still looked confused, so I paused to let it sink in.
"What does 'Quarter' mean?"
My new friend's first language was not English, and, like always, I had answered the question of my own agenda rather than the real question. (Does anybody see Being a Better Listener on my New Year's Resolution list?)
My explanation got me thinking, and, as it turns out, when I dwell on a question, it turns up in a lot of my conversations. Later that week, I was talking to a customer at work and discovered that he had been going through a similar situation for the last few years. Unlike myself (who ran kicking and screaming from the institution of higher learning after they handed me a piece of paper covered in calligraphy), this new friend had hid from his fears through school and travel. I was a bit jealous... The real world is actually a terrible place to hide from one's uncertainty about the future. I felt better knowing that he was going to graduate this spring without any better understanding of what he should be doing with his life than what I have. And he's in the Scared Stage. I'd never want to go back to the Scared Stage!
The problem, I think, is that we have so many decisions in front of us. Normally, I discuss this with my fellow females since we have the feminism of the 80s to thank for our decision-making problems. Sure, women could do whatever they wanted to before the 80s, but now there's even more pressure for us to choose not only whatever it is that men did before us, but to be HAPPY with our choice. And it's not even about choosing not to have babies or to have babies (trust me, with this war on right now, I'm definitely feeling the embracing of the latter over the former!). We can even choose to have babies and have partners who stay home to raise them. In fact, it's almost like our choices SHOULD be more original. The last few generations have sent so many shockwaves through the history books that there is this tiny little bit of pressure resting on the shoulders of all womankind to do something even greater with our lives. We all should aspire to be the next Oprah...
I apologise for the helter skelter of that rant. I've been holding in it for a few days, now. You see, over the holidays, I brought up Rosie the Rivetter, and how she has an action figure created after her. I love it. I love Rosie the Rivetter! When I brought her up, though, there was a conversation about how much the campaign she represented helped get women into the work force. I won't deny that the campaigns to get women to work during the war were impressive, and widespread enough to convince even the most conservative individuals in the far corners of this country to consider allowing women to do the hard labour of the men they had sent off to fight without being too concerned about that woman's children, or her 'delicate nature.'
It wasn't the beginning of feminism, though, nor was it the end. The post-war emphasis on family and motherhood certainly sent a vast majority of those women packing from the factories back to their pantries. The celebration of suburbia only continued that trend, making motherhood once again an issue of class moreso than a natural power to be proud of. (If you could afford to have children and not have the wife work as well, you were of the middle class or above.) Then came the pill, and more and more women could postpone their baby-having days to build a career. Some "spinsters" (women who never marry) were even truly successful in the careers that came their way due to the civil rights movements of the 60s.
Then, well, we can't forget the Sexual Revolution; if only because that makes us believe that Britney Spears is being really powerful when she pouts just a little bit and 'allows' her lover to physically abuse her. (If you don't understand, just ask, and I'll break it down for you.) After the sexually-charged 70's, though, we are faced with the 80's, where Dolly Pardon bemoans working a full-time job, Cyndi Lauper claims "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun," and, okay, maybe we should blame Madonna - just a little bit - for what we've allowed Britney Spears to get away with...
Except that, Madonna had class. Dolly Pardon had pride. And Cyndi Lauper was filthy rich! They may not have been pressuring women to get into the workforce, but they didn't have to. Women coming of age at this time had known their entire lives that they could do ANYTHING they wanted to when they grew up. And they did! Yeah, yeah, I know there's still a glass ceiling, and there's still social taboos that need to be kicked out of the office buildings women are now dominating,... but that leaves us with a lot to live up to!
Now do you understand why I had to give up the feminist cause for something that needed more work? I'm a bit terrified of what my foremothers expect from me...
Don't worry, I know it's difficult for men, too. All those girls who were told they could do anything grew up alongside those boys that weren't told anything about the future. Hmmmm....yeah, I guess it could be worse. I could have had that plan that had been given to my gender for the last few generations ripped from my hands by some scary spinsters, had it split in half and only be given back the top part of it. If I thought reaching that glass ceiling was going to be tough, imagine what life would be like if that's where I was meant to start!
Don't worry, I explained what a 'quarter' was to my new friend...
I was at a party the other night, and I was asked what I do now that I've left the bank. After answering that question a few times prior to the party, I jumped right in with the fact that I am blogging. The music blog is the easiest one to understand, but I couldn't leave out this one. This is more of your traditional blog - sub-regular rants on life, getting older, and the difficulties of merely being alive and having emotions - yet it is the one that I talk the least about. So, standing in front of a dozen or so people, I began my explanation...
This blog was actually the beginning of it all. Well, no, that's not entirely correct. The first one was supposed to be about my travels in England, but that didn't pan out. So, then, when I got back I started this one. Remember, two years ago when I faced the possibility of being 100% unemployed for like six weeks? That I would like to mark as the beginning of the crisis. (...although truthfully, I wasn't all too rational in my decision to move to England, either,... I guess I'll just leave it up to future analysts of my autobiography...)
After running through a quick list of what I am doing as a writer (and the side jobs, as well), the party broke down into smaller groups. This is always ideal. I hate parties where everybody tries to talk to one another and you just sit around in a big circle pretending to all care about the same subject matter. I never connect well with a large group of strangers, but I hit it off BIG TIME one-on-one with new friends. (My friend would later thank me for bridging the gap between her different groups of friends, which I took as a huge compliment. I love meeting new people, so I love going to parties where I have the opportunity to do exactly as I did there. It was nice that my skill was appreciated. AND, if you're ever throwing a mixer with a wide array of people, you know who to call!)
As several conversations erupted, I found myself at the corner of the buffet table, talking to a scientist. He seemed interested in my blogs, and we began talking about this one. I went through a brief history of it, and he seemed confused. "What do you mean by 'Quarter Life Crisis'?"
"Well," I began. "You know how people, when they're in their late forties, early fifties and they suddenly change careers or start dating somebody half their age?"
His confusion did not seem to be lessening, so I continued.
"Well, I'm too young to be doing that!" (I paused for a laugh, but there was none...) "...but, well, I think there is this common feeling among people of our generation, you know, that are in their twenties and faced with similar concerns about their life. They start asking themselves, 'is this REALLY what I want to do for the next forty or fifty years?'; 'will I be happy with this decision five years from now?'; or sometimes even, 'why haven't I accomplished that yet?!?' These are all valid concerns, and, I've found that writing about it makes me feel better. And my readers, when they comment, are going through the same things."
He still looked confused, so I paused to let it sink in.
"What does 'Quarter' mean?"
My new friend's first language was not English, and, like always, I had answered the question of my own agenda rather than the real question. (Does anybody see Being a Better Listener on my New Year's Resolution list?)
My explanation got me thinking, and, as it turns out, when I dwell on a question, it turns up in a lot of my conversations. Later that week, I was talking to a customer at work and discovered that he had been going through a similar situation for the last few years. Unlike myself (who ran kicking and screaming from the institution of higher learning after they handed me a piece of paper covered in calligraphy), this new friend had hid from his fears through school and travel. I was a bit jealous... The real world is actually a terrible place to hide from one's uncertainty about the future. I felt better knowing that he was going to graduate this spring without any better understanding of what he should be doing with his life than what I have. And he's in the Scared Stage. I'd never want to go back to the Scared Stage!
The problem, I think, is that we have so many decisions in front of us. Normally, I discuss this with my fellow females since we have the feminism of the 80s to thank for our decision-making problems. Sure, women could do whatever they wanted to before the 80s, but now there's even more pressure for us to choose not only whatever it is that men did before us, but to be HAPPY with our choice. And it's not even about choosing not to have babies or to have babies (trust me, with this war on right now, I'm definitely feeling the embracing of the latter over the former!). We can even choose to have babies and have partners who stay home to raise them. In fact, it's almost like our choices SHOULD be more original. The last few generations have sent so many shockwaves through the history books that there is this tiny little bit of pressure resting on the shoulders of all womankind to do something even greater with our lives. We all should aspire to be the next Oprah...
I apologise for the helter skelter of that rant. I've been holding in it for a few days, now. You see, over the holidays, I brought up Rosie the Rivetter, and how she has an action figure created after her. I love it. I love Rosie the Rivetter! When I brought her up, though, there was a conversation about how much the campaign she represented helped get women into the work force. I won't deny that the campaigns to get women to work during the war were impressive, and widespread enough to convince even the most conservative individuals in the far corners of this country to consider allowing women to do the hard labour of the men they had sent off to fight without being too concerned about that woman's children, or her 'delicate nature.'
It wasn't the beginning of feminism, though, nor was it the end. The post-war emphasis on family and motherhood certainly sent a vast majority of those women packing from the factories back to their pantries. The celebration of suburbia only continued that trend, making motherhood once again an issue of class moreso than a natural power to be proud of. (If you could afford to have children and not have the wife work as well, you were of the middle class or above.) Then came the pill, and more and more women could postpone their baby-having days to build a career. Some "spinsters" (women who never marry) were even truly successful in the careers that came their way due to the civil rights movements of the 60s.
Then, well, we can't forget the Sexual Revolution; if only because that makes us believe that Britney Spears is being really powerful when she pouts just a little bit and 'allows' her lover to physically abuse her. (If you don't understand, just ask, and I'll break it down for you.) After the sexually-charged 70's, though, we are faced with the 80's, where Dolly Pardon bemoans working a full-time job, Cyndi Lauper claims "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun," and, okay, maybe we should blame Madonna - just a little bit - for what we've allowed Britney Spears to get away with...
Except that, Madonna had class. Dolly Pardon had pride. And Cyndi Lauper was filthy rich! They may not have been pressuring women to get into the workforce, but they didn't have to. Women coming of age at this time had known their entire lives that they could do ANYTHING they wanted to when they grew up. And they did! Yeah, yeah, I know there's still a glass ceiling, and there's still social taboos that need to be kicked out of the office buildings women are now dominating,... but that leaves us with a lot to live up to!
Now do you understand why I had to give up the feminist cause for something that needed more work? I'm a bit terrified of what my foremothers expect from me...
Don't worry, I know it's difficult for men, too. All those girls who were told they could do anything grew up alongside those boys that weren't told anything about the future. Hmmmm....yeah, I guess it could be worse. I could have had that plan that had been given to my gender for the last few generations ripped from my hands by some scary spinsters, had it split in half and only be given back the top part of it. If I thought reaching that glass ceiling was going to be tough, imagine what life would be like if that's where I was meant to start!
Don't worry, I explained what a 'quarter' was to my new friend...
It Gets Better (Part Two)
The original campaign, and my previous point about this phrase was that life only improves as we get older. As we age, we become wiser, we appreciate things more, and life is rarely as difficult as high school. Well, life is generally more difficult than high school, but people and our emotions tend to become more manageable...
I had a bigger point to make, though, and I've waited almost a week to finish making it.
I have a friend who is faced with a difficult romantic decision. For the entirety of our relationship, she has wanted to fall in love. She has had numerous suitors, and a handful of crushes, but nothing as serious as the situation she finds herself in now. At this moment, she is dating two different men, and is concerned about which one, if either, to continue dating. I've heard the pros and cons of both, and privately given her my opinion; and I've also given her the advice of "it gets better"...
Romantic "It Gets Better"
On average, we all (not just women) have this ideal in our minds of who are perfect match is. As we meet a potential new mate, we weigh them against the list we have in our mind of what it is we are looking for. For some people, the suitor should have an idea of where they're going in life, perhaps be able to drive, or make x amount or more every year. Other times, it is more about what the person does not have: no children, no pets, no body fat, no debt, etc. And, on average, we all need to find the other person attractive: dashing eyes, cute smile, firm butt, toned arms, etc. The criteria changes for every person, luckily, and so it should work out that eventually, one day you will find somebody that has you described on their list and they will fit the person you have on your list, too.
This is where I think online dating sites may have ruined the dating game forever, or at least for some people. You log onto the site, you put in your list and you generally find five or six people who fit eighty percent of what you're looking for. Before even meeting them, they're discarded, though, because that twenty percent is the most important part. Now, don't get me wrong, I know many people who have found the love of their life on dating sites, and I think it's nice to have another way of meeting people. And, I shouldn't blame online dating sites entirely. I think, even without them, we would have these impossible lists for our suitors to match. Listing off everything you're looking for and not finding it is extremely disappointing.
I've discarded my list. Friends and family describe my ideal mate to me, and that's fine. As for me, right now, I'm preferring to drift along, without a list to compare any potential suitors to. My theory is that when it's right, it'll be right and he won't have to meet all the requirements that I created before I met him. Who I am changes over time, and that goes along with what I like as well...and if who I am only improves, what I like will only get better, too.
Consoling my last broken heart, a dear friend used the "It Gets Better" line to me. "The next one will be even better...and if he isn't, than it's not worth sticking with." I liked that thought. If, in your new relationship, you're still thinking about the old one, then the new person is probably not any better, and you should move on.
Taking this concept, I gave advice to me friend faced with this certain dilemna. Both of her suitors possess the same number of positive qualities on her list, but neither of them meet all of them. So, I told her to jump in, have fun, and be willing to get hurt. At some point, she'll know which one to chose, and he might break her heart. That's ok, though, because the next suitor will be even better. It only gets better...
Plus, we're only in our twenties. There is only a certain amount of years where it is acceptable to date for fun. We might find the love of our life right away, but it is WAY too early to be stressing about meeting the person we will spend the rest of our life with at this point. Right now, we should be kissing a few frogs; it will make the prince that much better ;-)
I had a bigger point to make, though, and I've waited almost a week to finish making it.
I have a friend who is faced with a difficult romantic decision. For the entirety of our relationship, she has wanted to fall in love. She has had numerous suitors, and a handful of crushes, but nothing as serious as the situation she finds herself in now. At this moment, she is dating two different men, and is concerned about which one, if either, to continue dating. I've heard the pros and cons of both, and privately given her my opinion; and I've also given her the advice of "it gets better"...
Romantic "It Gets Better"
On average, we all (not just women) have this ideal in our minds of who are perfect match is. As we meet a potential new mate, we weigh them against the list we have in our mind of what it is we are looking for. For some people, the suitor should have an idea of where they're going in life, perhaps be able to drive, or make x amount or more every year. Other times, it is more about what the person does not have: no children, no pets, no body fat, no debt, etc. And, on average, we all need to find the other person attractive: dashing eyes, cute smile, firm butt, toned arms, etc. The criteria changes for every person, luckily, and so it should work out that eventually, one day you will find somebody that has you described on their list and they will fit the person you have on your list, too.
This is where I think online dating sites may have ruined the dating game forever, or at least for some people. You log onto the site, you put in your list and you generally find five or six people who fit eighty percent of what you're looking for. Before even meeting them, they're discarded, though, because that twenty percent is the most important part. Now, don't get me wrong, I know many people who have found the love of their life on dating sites, and I think it's nice to have another way of meeting people. And, I shouldn't blame online dating sites entirely. I think, even without them, we would have these impossible lists for our suitors to match. Listing off everything you're looking for and not finding it is extremely disappointing.
I've discarded my list. Friends and family describe my ideal mate to me, and that's fine. As for me, right now, I'm preferring to drift along, without a list to compare any potential suitors to. My theory is that when it's right, it'll be right and he won't have to meet all the requirements that I created before I met him. Who I am changes over time, and that goes along with what I like as well...and if who I am only improves, what I like will only get better, too.
Consoling my last broken heart, a dear friend used the "It Gets Better" line to me. "The next one will be even better...and if he isn't, than it's not worth sticking with." I liked that thought. If, in your new relationship, you're still thinking about the old one, then the new person is probably not any better, and you should move on.
Taking this concept, I gave advice to me friend faced with this certain dilemna. Both of her suitors possess the same number of positive qualities on her list, but neither of them meet all of them. So, I told her to jump in, have fun, and be willing to get hurt. At some point, she'll know which one to chose, and he might break her heart. That's ok, though, because the next suitor will be even better. It only gets better...
Plus, we're only in our twenties. There is only a certain amount of years where it is acceptable to date for fun. We might find the love of our life right away, but it is WAY too early to be stressing about meeting the person we will spend the rest of our life with at this point. Right now, we should be kissing a few frogs; it will make the prince that much better ;-)
Tuesday 28 December 2010
ramshackle
1:appearing ready to collapse: rickety 2:carelessly or loosely constructed
The properties were separated by a ramshackle wooden fence that was just barely held together with chicken wire.
Did You Know?
Despite its appearance, "ramshackle" has nothing to do with rams or shackles. It's an alteration of "ramshackled," an early form of "ransack," which derived from Old Norse words meaning "house" and "seek" and meant "to search through or plunder." A home that has been ransacked has had its contents thrown into disarray, and that image may be what caused us to start using "ramshackle" in the first half of the 19th century to describe something poorly constructed or in a state of near collapse. These days, "ramshackle" can also be used figuratively, as in "He could only devise a ramshackle excuse for his absence."
Page-A-Day Calendar
www.pageaday.com
Workman Publishing
The properties were separated by a ramshackle wooden fence that was just barely held together with chicken wire.
Did You Know?
Despite its appearance, "ramshackle" has nothing to do with rams or shackles. It's an alteration of "ramshackled," an early form of "ransack," which derived from Old Norse words meaning "house" and "seek" and meant "to search through or plunder." A home that has been ransacked has had its contents thrown into disarray, and that image may be what caused us to start using "ramshackle" in the first half of the 19th century to describe something poorly constructed or in a state of near collapse. These days, "ramshackle" can also be used figuratively, as in "He could only devise a ramshackle excuse for his absence."
Page-A-Day Calendar
www.pageaday.com
Workman Publishing
Monday 27 December 2010
handsel
1:a gift made as a token of good wishes or luck 2:a first installment: earnest money
At the beginning of the year, some employees will receive handsome monetary handsels.
Did You Know?
According to an old custom in the British Isles, the first Monday of the new year is Handsel Monday, a day to give a small gift or good-luck charm to children or to those who have served you well. As long ago as the year 1200, English-speakers were using the ancestor of "handsel" for any good-luck charm, especially one given at the start of some new situation or condition. By the 1500s, traders were using "handsel" for the first cash they earned in the morning - to them, an omen of good things to follow. Nowadays, it can also be applied to the first use or experience of something, especially when such a use gives a taste of things to come.
Page-A-Day Calendar
www.pageaday.com
Workman Publishing
At the beginning of the year, some employees will receive handsome monetary handsels.
Did You Know?
According to an old custom in the British Isles, the first Monday of the new year is Handsel Monday, a day to give a small gift or good-luck charm to children or to those who have served you well. As long ago as the year 1200, English-speakers were using the ancestor of "handsel" for any good-luck charm, especially one given at the start of some new situation or condition. By the 1500s, traders were using "handsel" for the first cash they earned in the morning - to them, an omen of good things to follow. Nowadays, it can also be applied to the first use or experience of something, especially when such a use gives a taste of things to come.
Page-A-Day Calendar
www.pageaday.com
Workman Publishing
Weekly Inspirational Quote
How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.
~ Annie Dillard
~ Annie Dillard
Wednesday 22 December 2010
It Gets Better...
The campaign of this same name began several months ago. In an attempt to bring more awareness to the tragic suicidal results of bullying and - more importantly - hope to those who suffer from bullying as a result of their sexual orientation, celebrities and human rights advocates began the "It Gets Better" program. Numerous videos have been uploaded all over the web, as openly gay (and even straight) figures of our world illustrate how surviving that difficult time of being bullied in high school or junior high was worth surviving because "It Gets Better."
Personally, I've always had a soft spot for anti-bullying campaigns. This one, though, amazes me with its brilliance. In three words it sums up paragraphs and books filled with advice on how to "ignore" the bullies, turn the other cheek, or merely survive the taunting. When you're a teenager or young adult being hounded on for your differences, you feel like you are different. During a time when we were all trying to figure out social standings and our place within society, feeling like the only different person in that society is worse than being subjected to water dripping on your forehead for eight hours a day. Or it at least it feels like that. These videos appeal to the youth as they struggle through one of the most difficult times in their life - high school - in an honest portrayal of how great life becomes after that emotional abuse.
During my youth, I knew it would get better. High school, I believed, was going to be the best years of some people's lives, but not mine. Every year in my life, I hoped - and still do - was only going to be better. University, although disappointing in the beginning, became better and better until I needed to be done with. I needed to move on to the next adventure. And it was great, even if it wasn't what I had imagine it to be. I learned a lot about myself as I travelled on my own and as I dealt with the politics of private schooling in England. The most difficult thing was that everybody thought I was younger than I was. People, myself included, generally assume I have less life experience than I do...
When that adventure was done - as sad as I was to say goodbye to everybody who I had loved - I came back and hit a low point. That's when the crisis really began. Three years into it, I'm starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Don't get me wrong, I still have "doomed" days where I think I'll never get where I want to be, but mostly I am really - FINALLY - beginning to believe that whatever happens, It ALWAYS Gets Better...
Yesterday was the shortest day of the year: Winter Solstice. I almost love this day more than the 25th of this month. You see, there's always this great buildup to Christmas and expectations for perfection are extremely high. Mix in with that financial stress, limited time to get everything done before ONE big day, family squabbles, and there's the least amount of sunlight of all year in the two weeks beforehand. I'm a big sunshine fan! So, for me, I like knowing that from today until June 21, every day has just a little more sunshine in it. You see, I don't put all this pressure on one day to be perfect, and so, when it isn't, I don't feel like I've been let-down afterwards. I'm not pagan, so its religious significance is lost on me. It's just another day, but it's the shortest day. From then on, it can only get better...
Personally, I've always had a soft spot for anti-bullying campaigns. This one, though, amazes me with its brilliance. In three words it sums up paragraphs and books filled with advice on how to "ignore" the bullies, turn the other cheek, or merely survive the taunting. When you're a teenager or young adult being hounded on for your differences, you feel like you are different. During a time when we were all trying to figure out social standings and our place within society, feeling like the only different person in that society is worse than being subjected to water dripping on your forehead for eight hours a day. Or it at least it feels like that. These videos appeal to the youth as they struggle through one of the most difficult times in their life - high school - in an honest portrayal of how great life becomes after that emotional abuse.
During my youth, I knew it would get better. High school, I believed, was going to be the best years of some people's lives, but not mine. Every year in my life, I hoped - and still do - was only going to be better. University, although disappointing in the beginning, became better and better until I needed to be done with. I needed to move on to the next adventure. And it was great, even if it wasn't what I had imagine it to be. I learned a lot about myself as I travelled on my own and as I dealt with the politics of private schooling in England. The most difficult thing was that everybody thought I was younger than I was. People, myself included, generally assume I have less life experience than I do...
When that adventure was done - as sad as I was to say goodbye to everybody who I had loved - I came back and hit a low point. That's when the crisis really began. Three years into it, I'm starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Don't get me wrong, I still have "doomed" days where I think I'll never get where I want to be, but mostly I am really - FINALLY - beginning to believe that whatever happens, It ALWAYS Gets Better...
Yesterday was the shortest day of the year: Winter Solstice. I almost love this day more than the 25th of this month. You see, there's always this great buildup to Christmas and expectations for perfection are extremely high. Mix in with that financial stress, limited time to get everything done before ONE big day, family squabbles, and there's the least amount of sunlight of all year in the two weeks beforehand. I'm a big sunshine fan! So, for me, I like knowing that from today until June 21, every day has just a little more sunshine in it. You see, I don't put all this pressure on one day to be perfect, and so, when it isn't, I don't feel like I've been let-down afterwards. I'm not pagan, so its religious significance is lost on me. It's just another day, but it's the shortest day. From then on, it can only get better...
Monday 20 December 2010
lollygag
to spend time idly, aimlessly, or foolishly: dawdle
"Please stop lollygagging around and get ready for school," pleaded Mom.
Did You Know?
Nowadays, "lollygag" doesn't usually carry any naughty connotations, but it used to be slang for "fooling around" (sexually, that is). That sense of "lollygag," in use as long ago as 1868, probably originated as an alteration of the older (and more dawdlingly innocent) "lallygag." In 1946, a navy captain considered lollygaggin enough of a problem to issue this warning: "Lovemaking and lollygagging are hereby strictly forbidden... The holding of hands, osculation and constant embracing of WAVES, corpsmen or civilians and sailors or any combination of male and female personnel is a violation of naval discipline..."
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Workman Publishing
"Please stop lollygagging around and get ready for school," pleaded Mom.
Did You Know?
Nowadays, "lollygag" doesn't usually carry any naughty connotations, but it used to be slang for "fooling around" (sexually, that is). That sense of "lollygag," in use as long ago as 1868, probably originated as an alteration of the older (and more dawdlingly innocent) "lallygag." In 1946, a navy captain considered lollygaggin enough of a problem to issue this warning: "Lovemaking and lollygagging are hereby strictly forbidden... The holding of hands, osculation and constant embracing of WAVES, corpsmen or civilians and sailors or any combination of male and female personnel is a violation of naval discipline..."
Page-A-Day Calendar
www.pageaday.com
Workman Publishing
Sunday 19 December 2010
potentate
a ruler or sovereign; broadly: one who weild great power or sway
His work as a high-level diplomat frequently brings him into contact with foreign potentates
Did You Know?
Wielding its power in English since the 15th century, "potentate" comes from the Late Latin potent-, meaning "powerful." Other descendants of potent- in English include "potent" itself, "impotent," and omnipotent," as well as the archais "armipotent" and very rare "bellipotent" (meaning, respectively, "mighty in battle" and "mighty in war"). Even"power" and "powerful" can be traced back to potent-
Page-A-Day calendar
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Workman Publishing
His work as a high-level diplomat frequently brings him into contact with foreign potentates
Did You Know?
Wielding its power in English since the 15th century, "potentate" comes from the Late Latin potent-, meaning "powerful." Other descendants of potent- in English include "potent" itself, "impotent," and omnipotent," as well as the archais "armipotent" and very rare "bellipotent" (meaning, respectively, "mighty in battle" and "mighty in war"). Even"power" and "powerful" can be traced back to potent-
Page-A-Day calendar
www.pageaday.com
Workman Publishing
Saturday 18 December 2010
Croesus
adj: a very rich man
There's no doubt that Stan makes a good salary - but he is not a Croesus.
Did You Know?
The original Croesus was a sixth-century B.C. king of Lydia, an ancient realm in what is now Turkey. Croesus conquered many surrounding regions, grew very wealthy, and became the subject of legends. In one legend, he was visited by Solon, the wise Athenian lawgiver. (Historians say this isn't chronologically possible, but it makes a good story.) Solon supposedly told Croesus, who thought he had everything: "Account no man happy before his death." Besides being a generic term for someone extremely wealthy, the name shows up in the phrase, "rich as Croesus."
Page-A-Day calendar
www.pageaday.com
Workman Publishing
There's no doubt that Stan makes a good salary - but he is not a Croesus.
Did You Know?
The original Croesus was a sixth-century B.C. king of Lydia, an ancient realm in what is now Turkey. Croesus conquered many surrounding regions, grew very wealthy, and became the subject of legends. In one legend, he was visited by Solon, the wise Athenian lawgiver. (Historians say this isn't chronologically possible, but it makes a good story.) Solon supposedly told Croesus, who thought he had everything: "Account no man happy before his death." Besides being a generic term for someone extremely wealthy, the name shows up in the phrase, "rich as Croesus."
Page-A-Day calendar
www.pageaday.com
Workman Publishing
Thursday 16 December 2010
Having An Amazing Week...
I was asked how I was doing this evening. I have a rule about not lying when asked that question (see last post), and therefore told the young woman the truth:
"Great! Yeah, this is an amazing week! And, you know what, I've had some really crappy weeks this year. For some reason, in my life, especially this year, when it rains, it POURS cats and dogs - both in the terrible way and in the fabulous way."
I went on to explain the sets of three that have cursed my life twice in the last six months. For the sake of other people involved, I'll try to never discuss those issues publicly, but it has definitely been a trying year for many of the people close to me. I've been really good in seeing the silver lining in many of the situations, but sometimes you just can't shine a positive light on tragedy.
Tragedy is a part of life, though. As Buddha taught us, Life is Struggle. The struggle makes our sweet release from life amazing, not terrifying. On our way to that release, though, we have to learn how to handle the struggle - not control it, nor resist it, but cope with it.
My thoughts on this began last Saturday. By just looking at one area of my life, I could list off many problems that have appeared over the last twelve months. On the other hand, though, I thought of three amazing events that happened in that same realm of my life. Once I started to think about it, smaller happier events crept in and I became so happy thinking about what great luck we have to be basking in those happy events. I'm not gonna say that it makes the sad parts any less sad, but allowing myself to dwell in the happy rather than the sad brings me joy. So, I'm gonna try to focus on the AMAZING things going so well in my life right now, rather than the unfortunate situations that have been brought to light over the last year.
Top Five Happy Moments Of Today:
- filling my fridge and freezer with vegetables after going to the grocery store for the first time in two weeks!
- hanging out with two amazing people that I've had the pleasure of hanging out with over the last month
- Jito lying in my lap as I typed this entire post (he's very cuddly after our fire alarm this morning!)
- having lunch with one of my best friends at my FAV veggie cafe, Cafe Mosaics! - and discussing how great it is to have friendships that require so little work, but bring such great joy to life!
- chatting FOR AN HOUR with a best friend of mine that I haven't seen in a year!
Think about it - what were your top five moments today?
"Great! Yeah, this is an amazing week! And, you know what, I've had some really crappy weeks this year. For some reason, in my life, especially this year, when it rains, it POURS cats and dogs - both in the terrible way and in the fabulous way."
I went on to explain the sets of three that have cursed my life twice in the last six months. For the sake of other people involved, I'll try to never discuss those issues publicly, but it has definitely been a trying year for many of the people close to me. I've been really good in seeing the silver lining in many of the situations, but sometimes you just can't shine a positive light on tragedy.
Tragedy is a part of life, though. As Buddha taught us, Life is Struggle. The struggle makes our sweet release from life amazing, not terrifying. On our way to that release, though, we have to learn how to handle the struggle - not control it, nor resist it, but cope with it.
My thoughts on this began last Saturday. By just looking at one area of my life, I could list off many problems that have appeared over the last twelve months. On the other hand, though, I thought of three amazing events that happened in that same realm of my life. Once I started to think about it, smaller happier events crept in and I became so happy thinking about what great luck we have to be basking in those happy events. I'm not gonna say that it makes the sad parts any less sad, but allowing myself to dwell in the happy rather than the sad brings me joy. So, I'm gonna try to focus on the AMAZING things going so well in my life right now, rather than the unfortunate situations that have been brought to light over the last year.
Top Five Happy Moments Of Today:
- filling my fridge and freezer with vegetables after going to the grocery store for the first time in two weeks!
- hanging out with two amazing people that I've had the pleasure of hanging out with over the last month
- Jito lying in my lap as I typed this entire post (he's very cuddly after our fire alarm this morning!)
- having lunch with one of my best friends at my FAV veggie cafe, Cafe Mosaics! - and discussing how great it is to have friendships that require so little work, but bring such great joy to life!
- chatting FOR AN HOUR with a best friend of mine that I haven't seen in a year!
Think about it - what were your top five moments today?
Mendacious
\men-'da-shes\ adj.: given to or characterized by deception or falsehood or divergence from absolute truth
Liza wasn't about to fall for the unrealistic claims being touted by the mendacious car salesman.
Did You Know?
"Mendacious" and "lying" have very similar meanings, but the two are not interchangeable. "Mendacious" is more formal and literary, suggesting a deception harmless enough to be considered bland. "Lying" is more blunt, accusatory, and often confrontational. You might yell, "You lying rat!" in an argument, but you would likely stick to the more diplomatic "Aren't you being somewhat mendacious?" in a business meeting. "Mendacious can also imply habitual untruthfulness, whereas "lying" is more likely to be used to identify specific instances of dishonesty.
Page-A-Day Calendar
www.pageaday.com
Workman Publishing
Liza wasn't about to fall for the unrealistic claims being touted by the mendacious car salesman.
Did You Know?
"Mendacious" and "lying" have very similar meanings, but the two are not interchangeable. "Mendacious" is more formal and literary, suggesting a deception harmless enough to be considered bland. "Lying" is more blunt, accusatory, and often confrontational. You might yell, "You lying rat!" in an argument, but you would likely stick to the more diplomatic "Aren't you being somewhat mendacious?" in a business meeting. "Mendacious can also imply habitual untruthfulness, whereas "lying" is more likely to be used to identify specific instances of dishonesty.
Page-A-Day Calendar
www.pageaday.com
Workman Publishing
Purpose from Avenue Q
A fellow quarter-life-crisis sufferer reccomended this song to me this morning. I kind of LOVE IT! This song exemplifies the beginning of any "life" crisis, whether its quarter or mid. Luckily, mine began at 23, so I've figured out my purpose.
This fall, I went into a room of strangers and told them that I was put on this earth in order to change it. That doesn't mean I'll be the next Oprah, or Ellen, or even the next Ghandi; they are merely role models for me. I know that I have already changed the world, and for more than one person, I'm sure. And the opportunity for me to continue to do that happens every day, in every social transaction. It might just be a little change, or it could be the change I'm hoping to see in this world, but I know that each and every one of them matter.
Yeah, I've figured it out. I know I'm going to have more of an affect on the world through my writing than my day-to-day actions. And that's the tough part to figure out. How do I have enough time for the writing while still surviving financially? Right now, I'm living on faith that the money will come in. Sometimes, that's all you can do. And, I know I'm not alone. There are so many people out there right now, struggling much more than I am. Inside, though, I have this little fire of faith that burns pretty bright and pretty strong and it's keeping me going more than any full-time, salaried job EVER could...
Tuesday 14 December 2010
Moving On, Saving Lives, and Crying About My Wasted Youth...
Death Cab For Cutie ~ Your New Twin Sized Bed
I had the most unbelievably brilliant day today! ...
Well, it started out kinda slow and unproductive and I felt bad about not making it to the post office this morning, but there's always tomorrow. Then I made it to my appointment early, struggled to follow the instructions (bite lip and look sheepish here), but was set up to the centrifuge before I knew it. This was my first time donating plasma, and the nurse was extremely helpful, supportive and made me feel great about saving so many lives with a mere ninety minutes out of my day.
As I watched the blood flow up through the tubes and the yellow liquid flow from the centrifuge to the collection bag, I answered the nurse's questions about what I do. "I'm a writer," I said. That was the first time I could honestly say that that was how I'm making a living! She was so excited about it, and I hated to tell her that I was just starting out. I did mention that the money wasn't everything everybody hoped for...
Then I met a friend for lunch (which is becoming a common occurrence as the holidays get closer and closer). We caught up and chatted long after our food was devoured. It ended with a great conversation about vegetarianism, eating animals, making nice with family, and a short reading from Jonathon Safran Foer's book that I currently tote around with me... It felt so good to have an honest, intellectual conversation about the social dilemnas of eating (or not eating) something that you morally disagree with.
And then I made some money. It was fun! I got to hang out with some pretty awesome people and even, hopefully, made somebody else feel better about his own quarter-life crisis. On my break, I read a bit about a personal issue I'm struggling with right now, but maintained my fantastic mood all the way home. I even stopped at my favourite house to enjoy the spectacle it has become with the decorated evergreen outside. Nothing, I felt could get me down...
As I turned the corner to the street my building is on, I began to think about music as a drug. Its ability to uplift us is so powerful...as is its ability to bring us down as well.
This song came on my iPod the other night, when I was going out and stoked for what was about to happen... Then, suddenly, my pace changed...my smile disappeared as I listened to this soft tune about broken hearts.
Life is pretty amazing. We have ultimate control over how to react to a situation, and basically how to feel. Sometimes, though, it's ok to let your emotions seep into this world you want so badly to control, and just run with it. It's ok to cry about your past even when you're so excited about your future... And Death Cab is probably the best band to cry to when you need to.
Still...I had an AMAZING day...and can't wait to do it all over again - everything! ;-)
Monday 13 December 2010
2010 - Watershed Year
Mantras, meditation, visualization, confidence, mind over matter, the power of your subconscious mind...
2010 is a watershed year for me. This is the year that I learned how to create my own success. It began with my mom suggesting I read a book of hers. She told me that it hadn't been completely successful for her, but she would return to it frequently and found that when she did, things began to improve once again. Having nothing to lose and everything to gain, I picked it up...and it began to transform my life.
Everything in it finally made sense. My spirit was ready to accept what the book had to offer as truth. I was ready to begin to change my life. I just had to put in the hard work in order to get there.
It began with weight loss. For over half of my life, I have tried to lose weight. I have never focussed on it before, but always wished I could do it. Of course, there were always more excuses than reasons to do it, which is always the path to failure. This spring, though, I was ready for it. And my journey downwards (weight-wise) began. My confidence began to grow as a result, and I have a pretty solid appreciation for the body I have now, as much as it may change for the rest of my life.
The next step was living on my own. It happened almost accidentally, but it's been a plan for the last three years. I will never regret the nearly two years before getting my first "apartment of my own," when I was living with my sisters. It was an opportunity that all three of us embraced as such. How many people get to call their siblings "roommates" after the age of 18? Or, even after each have lived on their own. I always thought of it as the perfect moment in all three of our lives to do so, and with one of my sisters getting married next year, I am that much more grateful for the hours, days, weeks, months and year and a half that we spent together. And that's even after all the fighting, meddling, jealousy, misunderstandings and weeks of not talking to one another. If given an option to repeat life, I would do it all over again. This year, I learned to love my family - not because I had to, but because they're pretty awesome people.
It seems like in an instant I became a professional, but I know there was much more time invested in that change this year. And, career-wise, I feel like I'm starting at the bottom - again - right now. I've learned to listen to the universe as far as that goes, though. The universe has led me to make some pretty shocking choices this year - moving up in a company I wanted out of, moving across town to fulfill that position, lying to myself about wanting to stay with the company to the extent that I forgot exactly the reason why I was put on this planet, waking up to that realization and quitting - almost abruptly - but at just the right time, going back to a company that I had been so angry with when I left, and making money on my own (which is the best thing I have ever done!) - and for that, I am eternally grateful to the universe.
I don't know what I'll be doing next year. Heck, I don't even know for sure what I'll be doing next week. And part of that REALLY terrifies me, but the other part makes me so excited. The best things in my life have been completely unplanned. The most fulfilling things in my life, have taken focus, determination, and hard work - and I'm finally ready to do that. So, finances will come, health will come, but my happiness will always be around...
Now, here I sit, typing away at a computer that I bought over three years ago to do something that I knew I would do for a living since I was eleven - write - but that I have never made enough time for until now. Sometimes what comes out is terrible; other times it is brilliant. The important thing is that I AM WRITING! And, above everything else positive that has happened this year, that is what I am most proud of!
2010 is a watershed year for me. This is the year that I learned how to create my own success. It began with my mom suggesting I read a book of hers. She told me that it hadn't been completely successful for her, but she would return to it frequently and found that when she did, things began to improve once again. Having nothing to lose and everything to gain, I picked it up...and it began to transform my life.
Everything in it finally made sense. My spirit was ready to accept what the book had to offer as truth. I was ready to begin to change my life. I just had to put in the hard work in order to get there.
It began with weight loss. For over half of my life, I have tried to lose weight. I have never focussed on it before, but always wished I could do it. Of course, there were always more excuses than reasons to do it, which is always the path to failure. This spring, though, I was ready for it. And my journey downwards (weight-wise) began. My confidence began to grow as a result, and I have a pretty solid appreciation for the body I have now, as much as it may change for the rest of my life.
The next step was living on my own. It happened almost accidentally, but it's been a plan for the last three years. I will never regret the nearly two years before getting my first "apartment of my own," when I was living with my sisters. It was an opportunity that all three of us embraced as such. How many people get to call their siblings "roommates" after the age of 18? Or, even after each have lived on their own. I always thought of it as the perfect moment in all three of our lives to do so, and with one of my sisters getting married next year, I am that much more grateful for the hours, days, weeks, months and year and a half that we spent together. And that's even after all the fighting, meddling, jealousy, misunderstandings and weeks of not talking to one another. If given an option to repeat life, I would do it all over again. This year, I learned to love my family - not because I had to, but because they're pretty awesome people.
It seems like in an instant I became a professional, but I know there was much more time invested in that change this year. And, career-wise, I feel like I'm starting at the bottom - again - right now. I've learned to listen to the universe as far as that goes, though. The universe has led me to make some pretty shocking choices this year - moving up in a company I wanted out of, moving across town to fulfill that position, lying to myself about wanting to stay with the company to the extent that I forgot exactly the reason why I was put on this planet, waking up to that realization and quitting - almost abruptly - but at just the right time, going back to a company that I had been so angry with when I left, and making money on my own (which is the best thing I have ever done!) - and for that, I am eternally grateful to the universe.
I don't know what I'll be doing next year. Heck, I don't even know for sure what I'll be doing next week. And part of that REALLY terrifies me, but the other part makes me so excited. The best things in my life have been completely unplanned. The most fulfilling things in my life, have taken focus, determination, and hard work - and I'm finally ready to do that. So, finances will come, health will come, but my happiness will always be around...
Now, here I sit, typing away at a computer that I bought over three years ago to do something that I knew I would do for a living since I was eleven - write - but that I have never made enough time for until now. Sometimes what comes out is terrible; other times it is brilliant. The important thing is that I AM WRITING! And, above everything else positive that has happened this year, that is what I am most proud of!
Breaking Hearts
With red eyes, she quietly whispered confessions of a broken heart.
Part of 'figuring this whole thing out' is getting your heart stomped on a few times. This process does not always require the involvement of other people, but the healing process normally involves blaming them...
"you give until you've given up and you are sure to find the perfect man"
A few nights ago I was talking about my romantic past. "I've had my heart broken a few times," I admitted, "but I've never broken anybody's heart." The statement rolled out of my head, as many statements do, before I had ever consciously conceived the idea. And so began me analysis of it.
Have I really never broken somebody's heart? The first few times my heart was broken, I know that I was hurt while the other parties were left unharmed. I was young, and naive - without a layer of ice permanently surrounding my emotional centre. Like tumble weeds, those people blew out of my life, and I eventually got over it. But then came the bigger breaks...
The first time I may have broken somebody's heart is something I have refused to take ownership of. I was older, but no less naive...and my innocence hurt me more than he led on it hurting him. When it ended, I was sick, both physically and emotionally, and I've always blamed him for that. I've only recently began to forgive him for everything that's happened. And taken some responsibility for creating an environment where I could get hurt. The strangest thing is that we've both left a channel open for forgiveness to flow through. Which makes me wonder about his emotions...
I thrive on analyzing relationships, the behaviour of my peers and even their emotions. It fascinates me, and I also feel I have a lot to learn from others. Educated as a social scientist, I will never be able to turn the analysis off. A colleague told me the other day that the analysis makes life worse for me. Analyzing these things keeps it ever-present in my mind, which inevitably leads to me being attached and getting hurt.
This video is truly incredible and worth watching. If the video isn't working, go here:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=wigqKfLWjvM
The last time my heart was broken, I was told to sever all ties with the individual involved in the breaking of it. "Don't agree to be friends," my good friend instructed me, "because no matter what happens, you'll always have this hope that the friendship will become something more than that." That hope, as I have learned, is toxic. Logically, it makes sense that this hope runs both ways. If I cling to a friendship wishing that it might one day become more than that, does it not make sense that the other individual is doing the same? Likewise, if I cling to the friendship because the hope of it makes the pain of the heartbreak less severe, could he not be suffering from the same pain?
Somewhere, somehow, Greg Bernhardt and many other romantic advisors to women are clasping their heads in agony. Has my broken heart - now mended and encased in ice for safe protection - still managed to turn me into a desperate woman looking for a man to love? Or, is it worse than that? Has my ego created this person who thinks her strength of love demands to be returned? Or, merely, have I become sympathetic enough to realize that those "jerks" out there who break my heart have feelings of their own?
This morning I woke up looking into the amber eyes of a male who will never break my heart. Well, at least until he passes away, which is merely a fact of life. It's the best relationship I've ever had, and it will last the length of his life. Not all love is romantic in nature. It's a bit like being a mother... In fact, I've been his surrogate mother since the day we met - and there's no Oedipal complex with that. We fight, we play, I care for him and he cuddles with me when I'm mending my broken heart. Maybe I am "that" lady, but it's ok. I have a lot of love to give...and Jito soaks all of it up, when he wants to.
And that may be the greatest lesson of love out there. You can't force it. Even when you find it, you can't cling to it. You can't control the breaking of a heart - whether it's yours or anybody else's. The only thing you ever control is yourself...and how you mend your emotional wounds...
Part of 'figuring this whole thing out' is getting your heart stomped on a few times. This process does not always require the involvement of other people, but the healing process normally involves blaming them...
"you give until you've given up and you are sure to find the perfect man"
A few nights ago I was talking about my romantic past. "I've had my heart broken a few times," I admitted, "but I've never broken anybody's heart." The statement rolled out of my head, as many statements do, before I had ever consciously conceived the idea. And so began me analysis of it.
Have I really never broken somebody's heart? The first few times my heart was broken, I know that I was hurt while the other parties were left unharmed. I was young, and naive - without a layer of ice permanently surrounding my emotional centre. Like tumble weeds, those people blew out of my life, and I eventually got over it. But then came the bigger breaks...
The first time I may have broken somebody's heart is something I have refused to take ownership of. I was older, but no less naive...and my innocence hurt me more than he led on it hurting him. When it ended, I was sick, both physically and emotionally, and I've always blamed him for that. I've only recently began to forgive him for everything that's happened. And taken some responsibility for creating an environment where I could get hurt. The strangest thing is that we've both left a channel open for forgiveness to flow through. Which makes me wonder about his emotions...
I thrive on analyzing relationships, the behaviour of my peers and even their emotions. It fascinates me, and I also feel I have a lot to learn from others. Educated as a social scientist, I will never be able to turn the analysis off. A colleague told me the other day that the analysis makes life worse for me. Analyzing these things keeps it ever-present in my mind, which inevitably leads to me being attached and getting hurt.
This video is truly incredible and worth watching. If the video isn't working, go here:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=wigqKfLWjvM
The last time my heart was broken, I was told to sever all ties with the individual involved in the breaking of it. "Don't agree to be friends," my good friend instructed me, "because no matter what happens, you'll always have this hope that the friendship will become something more than that." That hope, as I have learned, is toxic. Logically, it makes sense that this hope runs both ways. If I cling to a friendship wishing that it might one day become more than that, does it not make sense that the other individual is doing the same? Likewise, if I cling to the friendship because the hope of it makes the pain of the heartbreak less severe, could he not be suffering from the same pain?
Somewhere, somehow, Greg Bernhardt and many other romantic advisors to women are clasping their heads in agony. Has my broken heart - now mended and encased in ice for safe protection - still managed to turn me into a desperate woman looking for a man to love? Or, is it worse than that? Has my ego created this person who thinks her strength of love demands to be returned? Or, merely, have I become sympathetic enough to realize that those "jerks" out there who break my heart have feelings of their own?
This morning I woke up looking into the amber eyes of a male who will never break my heart. Well, at least until he passes away, which is merely a fact of life. It's the best relationship I've ever had, and it will last the length of his life. Not all love is romantic in nature. It's a bit like being a mother... In fact, I've been his surrogate mother since the day we met - and there's no Oedipal complex with that. We fight, we play, I care for him and he cuddles with me when I'm mending my broken heart. Maybe I am "that" lady, but it's ok. I have a lot of love to give...and Jito soaks all of it up, when he wants to.
And that may be the greatest lesson of love out there. You can't force it. Even when you find it, you can't cling to it. You can't control the breaking of a heart - whether it's yours or anybody else's. The only thing you ever control is yourself...and how you mend your emotional wounds...
Wednesday 8 December 2010
Changing Education Paradigms - RSA Animate
A friend shared this on my Facebook wall a few days ago. It took me those few days to view it, but I'm glad it did. I really like the concept of shifting paradigms. In so far as changing the world, I think it needs to happen...however, I am definitely more of an advocate of slow changes over time. Yes, the paradigm will shift, but it might take ten years to do so...and that's okay.
This is a long video, but you should still enjoy!
Friday 3 December 2010
The Most Influential Person Of Them All...
"You are your own worst enemy..." - circa 2002
Not many people would hold on to those words for over eight years, but I have. Well, to be fair, I've kept the card they're written on in a shoebox for eight years, so it's been fairly easy to hold on to those words of advice.
"Advice?" you might shudder to think that those are words of advice.
To most people, advice should be encouraging. It should be positive. Perhaps advice should only be constructive rather than critical. I am usually one of those people. The person who gave me this card, though, knew that those words were exactly what I needed to hear.
It wasn't what I was expecting. The most profound things in our life are those least expected. It was the most honest thing anybody had ever told me up until that time...
I was a timid, young girl, as most aspiring writers would describe themselves. I was smart, though, and knew it from the beginning. Growing up in a small town, I was easily top of the class...and that's how I made a name for myself. Well, that and being a goodie-two-shoes fat-kid who read under the tree at lunch rather than gossiping about boys on the swings. There were 200 students in a school for children in Kindergarten to Grade 12 - and that included families from three different communities! We were rural kids, endlessly jealous of those city kids we watched on television, but deftly aware of the ENTIRE lives of the kids we had grown up with since Kindergarten.
As I matured, I yearned to be more than that. I took on leadership roles in the small town - fascilitating games of Frozen Soccer (how else do you play in a large field of snow in -30?), Red Rover, and Monster Mash with the younger kids - and it made me feel so much more valuable to my community. When we moved to a larger town, I had already understood that if I was going to be happy, I had to be leading something.
It took me a few years to strive for leadership in the new town. Being a smart kid, this time, worked to my disadvantage. For some reason - and perhaps one day somebody will explain this to me in a way that actually makes sence - the teachers assumed that because I couldn't play a musical instrument I couldn't get more than 85 on an exam or assignment. Strange, really, as I had never gotten below a 90 before...but numbers meant nothing, in the long run. The thirty other "non-band" students in my class, knew I was the "smart kid," even if the teachers missed it my first year there. Needless to say, my three-month initiation into the community did not make me want to feel valuable in that community.
And then high school came! I loved high school...well, until it was time to be over. Haven't really missed it yet, but it was a great time in my development. I continued on the track to leadership I had earlier carved out for myself and became a celebrity in our small city. Looking back, it was kinda neat to have strangers come up to me in the halls and act like we were best friends. And, the acting skills I developed in reacting to them like we were best friends has served me well working in the service industry. It's not being fake, it's being interested in other people. turns out, that's the secret to politics AND business...
So, how was I my worst enemy? Here I was, excelling in my classes again, maintaining a leadership position in the numerous extra-curricular activities I had picked up, and even finding time to work twenty hours a week at a part time job...where I was the youngest supervisor they had ever employed. Wasn't I doing everything right? Wasn't setting such high expectations for myself a good thing? Look at where it had got me. Look at how many people liked me...or, well, at least knew who I was. People who knew me liked me, didn't they? Well, and if they didn't, I didn't need to like them...this is the time of individuality! I can be whoever I want and it doesn't really matter who likes me....but they like me, right?
And that was it.
This card came my way as the best teacher I ever had left the small town. She was a liberal spitfire in that school and she had created so much there while she was there. But the best thing was that she could look at somebody, at sixteen years of age, and know not only what was bubbling under the surface at that time, but what would come up again and again and again in that person's life. And she had the guts to be so honest in her farewell card to me.
I thought I'd keep in touch....I tried to remember to email her, or even send her a Christmas card. I didn't. I don't even know how long she stayed in Saskatoon after moving there. Her kids should be in high school by now. I hope she's still teaching. Our world will be a better place if she's still teaching. I do remember to ask younger adults who've come from her school in Saskatoon if they ever had her. They probably wouldn't know her the same way I did. They might even have called her hard ass. A lot of people didn't like her honesty. But I did...but, whatever, I was a goodie-two-shoes...
It's funny, I can't find that card today. But those words have been reverberating in my head for the last month. Well, not those exact words, but their sentiment. Then, yesterday, chatting with a friend online, I explained how my fear is keeping me from working. "Fear of failure?" he asked. "No," I typed, "fear of success..." Several weeks ago, a friend of mine told me about a license plate she had seen: Get Out Of Your Way.
It's right; Ms. James was right; the universe is right...
I should let myself succeed...
Not many people would hold on to those words for over eight years, but I have. Well, to be fair, I've kept the card they're written on in a shoebox for eight years, so it's been fairly easy to hold on to those words of advice.
"Advice?" you might shudder to think that those are words of advice.
To most people, advice should be encouraging. It should be positive. Perhaps advice should only be constructive rather than critical. I am usually one of those people. The person who gave me this card, though, knew that those words were exactly what I needed to hear.
It wasn't what I was expecting. The most profound things in our life are those least expected. It was the most honest thing anybody had ever told me up until that time...
I was a timid, young girl, as most aspiring writers would describe themselves. I was smart, though, and knew it from the beginning. Growing up in a small town, I was easily top of the class...and that's how I made a name for myself. Well, that and being a goodie-two-shoes fat-kid who read under the tree at lunch rather than gossiping about boys on the swings. There were 200 students in a school for children in Kindergarten to Grade 12 - and that included families from three different communities! We were rural kids, endlessly jealous of those city kids we watched on television, but deftly aware of the ENTIRE lives of the kids we had grown up with since Kindergarten.
As I matured, I yearned to be more than that. I took on leadership roles in the small town - fascilitating games of Frozen Soccer (how else do you play in a large field of snow in -30?), Red Rover, and Monster Mash with the younger kids - and it made me feel so much more valuable to my community. When we moved to a larger town, I had already understood that if I was going to be happy, I had to be leading something.
It took me a few years to strive for leadership in the new town. Being a smart kid, this time, worked to my disadvantage. For some reason - and perhaps one day somebody will explain this to me in a way that actually makes sence - the teachers assumed that because I couldn't play a musical instrument I couldn't get more than 85 on an exam or assignment. Strange, really, as I had never gotten below a 90 before...but numbers meant nothing, in the long run. The thirty other "non-band" students in my class, knew I was the "smart kid," even if the teachers missed it my first year there. Needless to say, my three-month initiation into the community did not make me want to feel valuable in that community.
And then high school came! I loved high school...well, until it was time to be over. Haven't really missed it yet, but it was a great time in my development. I continued on the track to leadership I had earlier carved out for myself and became a celebrity in our small city. Looking back, it was kinda neat to have strangers come up to me in the halls and act like we were best friends. And, the acting skills I developed in reacting to them like we were best friends has served me well working in the service industry. It's not being fake, it's being interested in other people. turns out, that's the secret to politics AND business...
So, how was I my worst enemy? Here I was, excelling in my classes again, maintaining a leadership position in the numerous extra-curricular activities I had picked up, and even finding time to work twenty hours a week at a part time job...where I was the youngest supervisor they had ever employed. Wasn't I doing everything right? Wasn't setting such high expectations for myself a good thing? Look at where it had got me. Look at how many people liked me...or, well, at least knew who I was. People who knew me liked me, didn't they? Well, and if they didn't, I didn't need to like them...this is the time of individuality! I can be whoever I want and it doesn't really matter who likes me....but they like me, right?
And that was it.
This card came my way as the best teacher I ever had left the small town. She was a liberal spitfire in that school and she had created so much there while she was there. But the best thing was that she could look at somebody, at sixteen years of age, and know not only what was bubbling under the surface at that time, but what would come up again and again and again in that person's life. And she had the guts to be so honest in her farewell card to me.
I thought I'd keep in touch....I tried to remember to email her, or even send her a Christmas card. I didn't. I don't even know how long she stayed in Saskatoon after moving there. Her kids should be in high school by now. I hope she's still teaching. Our world will be a better place if she's still teaching. I do remember to ask younger adults who've come from her school in Saskatoon if they ever had her. They probably wouldn't know her the same way I did. They might even have called her hard ass. A lot of people didn't like her honesty. But I did...but, whatever, I was a goodie-two-shoes...
It's funny, I can't find that card today. But those words have been reverberating in my head for the last month. Well, not those exact words, but their sentiment. Then, yesterday, chatting with a friend online, I explained how my fear is keeping me from working. "Fear of failure?" he asked. "No," I typed, "fear of success..." Several weeks ago, a friend of mine told me about a license plate she had seen: Get Out Of Your Way.
It's right; Ms. James was right; the universe is right...
I should let myself succeed...
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