I'm not much for these "Hallmark" holidays. We've all heard it before. It's been discussed to death. The flowers and chocolate are more expensive, the constant barrage of advertising from restaurants, jewelry and department stores and of course greeting card purveyors, all reminding us that Valentines Day is coming, or Mother's Day, or Father's Day, on Love Your Pet day, or whatever. A brunch that is worth $15 next Sunday will be worth $55 on this Sunday because it's Mother's Day. Give me a freaking break.
I take exception to this on so many levels.
First, I am the mother of a teenage girl. She is really a lovely human being. It's just that right now we don't always see eye to eye. Ok, I'm kind of underplaying it. But you know what I mean. I would altogether give up the forced niceness of Mother's Day if we could distribute a little of that niceness over a longer period time. Who's with me? I would like to spend some time with her that does not involve credit cards or malls, and just have fun....I love her, and hope she remembers she loves me at some point, other than when she wants me to stay up late to put her laundry in the dryer. Don't get me wrong, she often surprises me with unexpected moments of sweetness, good humor, and consideration, but if I had to pick between a whole day of forced and manufactured "be nice to Mommy", or more spontaneous fun and warmth over time, I would definitely choose the latter.
Next- Mother's Day must be incredibly difficult and sad and painful for those who have lost their Mom's. I get frustrated when I call my Mom and she doesn't answer the phone when I have a question, or need to know what temperature to cook the chicken on for the 500th time. I do not have a frame of reference for what it must feel like to not be able to talk to my Mom, ever. And my Mom and I don't have a perfect or ideal relationship. She sometimes makes me angry, and frustrated -so much so that I have at moments felt almost envious of friends whose Mom's are not in the picture, so they don't have to deal with the some of the "Mom baggage". It's evil I know, but then I cool down, and I realize how awful and miserable and lost I would feel in this world without my Mom and I thank God that I have her, regardless of how big of a pain in the ass she is at times. I'm sure she feels the same about me. So, for those who must live without their Mom's, in a constant barrage of Mother's Day advertising, I feel great sadness. I'm sure that the loss hurts, stings and aches daily, but thanks to the American economic media machine, for a few weeks in the end of April and early May each year, it gets to be just a little worse.
Last- what are teaching our kids by designating one day a year that is specifically for honoring a parent, or a loved one? Maybe I'm a bigger ass than most people, but to me, all these made up holidays are not the pinnacles of lives where we endeavor to honor our parents, and our loved ones each day, and then on Mother's Day celebrate our Mother in grand style after a year of treating her well. We neglect, mistreat, ignore, or sometimes abuse all our relationships. We take the people closest to us for granted at times, and then on whatever calendar date is assigned, buy a gift and a card, plan a meal, or make a reservation, and consider our obligation fulfilled. Wouldn't it be better to spread all that effort over the year? To find time for simple meals, little notes, a walk, a cup of tea, a phone call, a thoughtful trinket, rather than a big event to make Mom, Dad, or whomever feel special for a few hours? I do.
Oh.my. God. I sound like my Mother.
Friday, May 6, 2011
Friday, March 25, 2011
An Unlikely CKO Success Story (this one's for your Reebs)
I love kickboxing. Yup. Love it. And no one is more surprised than me. You wouldn't know it to look at me. I'm 41, obviously overweight, although, from what I'm told, much less so than I was when I started taking classes at CKO Chatham in December. The instructors there all say the change is really obvious. I don't see it as much, but I feel GREAT. Full of energy, and strong. Better than I've felt in years. I can't tell you how many pounds I've lost, because the scale doesn't know the difference between muscle and fat, but I can tell you that all my workout clothes got too big, and that I no longer need a seatbelt extender on an airplane, and a year ago I did.
To tell the truth I was terrified. My daughter wanted to try CKO, so I took her. Turned out the girl who owned the CKO franchise was a friend of a good friend, and together they somehow coerced me into taking a class. I was so embarrassed of how I looked, how uncoordinated I felt, and what I thought I couldn't do that the other people in the class could. Well ,let me tell you right now- the only person standing in my way was ME.
All of the instructors at CKO Chatham got right behind me and helped. They modified exercises, the gave me alternatives, when I said "I can't". they said "just try", when I said, "no, really, I can't" they said, "ok, maybe not yet, but you will". Maybe they believed it, but I didn't. Now I do. If you told me 4 months ago that I would do even one mountain climber, hold a plank for more than a second, or run a lap around the room, I'd have probably laughed, embarrassed, and made some self deprecating comment about my age and my weight. Thanks to CKO CHATHAM, and all the wonderful and supportive instructors there, who have been my cheerleaders and my teachers, I can do all those things and more.
My journey is not over. I have goals that I want to reach, but I know I'm on my way. Sometimes when I'm in the middle of class and I hear my glove hit the bag, the combination is coming easy and the sweat is pouring off me, I think, "This is the best thing I have ever done for myself". I'm so grateful that I've pushed (and been pushed) through it when it was hard. I hope if you're reading this you're considering coming to CKO to give it a try. No matter how out of shape you think you are, you can do it. I'm doing it, a little better every class, and I know it's a cliche, but if I can, anyone can.
To tell the truth I was terrified. My daughter wanted to try CKO, so I took her. Turned out the girl who owned the CKO franchise was a friend of a good friend, and together they somehow coerced me into taking a class. I was so embarrassed of how I looked, how uncoordinated I felt, and what I thought I couldn't do that the other people in the class could. Well ,let me tell you right now- the only person standing in my way was ME.
All of the instructors at CKO Chatham got right behind me and helped. They modified exercises, the gave me alternatives, when I said "I can't". they said "just try", when I said, "no, really, I can't" they said, "ok, maybe not yet, but you will". Maybe they believed it, but I didn't. Now I do. If you told me 4 months ago that I would do even one mountain climber, hold a plank for more than a second, or run a lap around the room, I'd have probably laughed, embarrassed, and made some self deprecating comment about my age and my weight. Thanks to CKO CHATHAM, and all the wonderful and supportive instructors there, who have been my cheerleaders and my teachers, I can do all those things and more.
My journey is not over. I have goals that I want to reach, but I know I'm on my way. Sometimes when I'm in the middle of class and I hear my glove hit the bag, the combination is coming easy and the sweat is pouring off me, I think, "This is the best thing I have ever done for myself". I'm so grateful that I've pushed (and been pushed) through it when it was hard. I hope if you're reading this you're considering coming to CKO to give it a try. No matter how out of shape you think you are, you can do it. I'm doing it, a little better every class, and I know it's a cliche, but if I can, anyone can.
Friday, March 18, 2011
Kobayashi Maru
I am a child of the late 70's and early 80's. I was raised on Star Trek reruns, and saw all the Star Trek movies in theaters, even the one with the whales. They were alternately awful, and amazing, without redeeming value, and invaluable in teaching me lessons about the triumph of the human, and Vulcan, and sometimes even Klingon spirit over evil. One of the indelible marks left on my psyche by this series of films was the idea of Kobayashi Maru.
In my extensive research online- two minutes with Wikipedia (and yes, there is more than one page dedicated to Kobayashi Maru as it relates to Star Trek! ) I learned that the direct translation of the word "Kobayashi" means small grove and "Maru" is a common family name and a common suffix for ship names. (For my Japanese speaking readers, if there are any, please forgive me if Wiki has steered me wrong). However, in the vernacular of Star Trek, Kobayashi Maru refers a training mission that actually has no solution. The mission required the Captain and his crew to leave behind a shuttle of personnel in order to accomplish the mission objective, even though the people on the shuttle would most certainly die. It's an impossible situation. The guiding principle is of course, that the needs of the many, outweigh the needs of the few. In the lore of the Trekkies, the only one to ever beat it, of course, was the hero, Captain James T. Kirk. He reprogrammed the simulation computer so he could save the shuttle and complete the mission. He was a smart one that Kirk. and was legend in his own time as a result. A firebrand, a maverick. But the the legend of the Kobayashi Maru would yet come home to roost for Kirk. We'll get to that in a bit.
So you're probably wondering why I'm writing about a fictional training mission from a fictional tv/movie franchise and what the hell it has to do with me. Ok. I'll tell you, since you asked. I've been watching the coverage of what is happening in Japan, and with much less interest, in the middle east and find myself sitting in front of my computer or the television and wondering why my face is wet with tears. I sit here my beautiful office, or my comfortable home in one of the prettiest towns in America, and I wonder how it is I came to be here, and not somewhere else. Fate? Luck? I don't know.
I wonder why in stories the heroes get the girl or boy, the treasure, and the happily ever after, but in reality, they get to fight for freedom and die doing it, or try to keep a nuclear reactor from melting down, and their bounty is radiation sickness and certain painful death. We are told as children that we can all be heroes, we can all slay the dragon, take the castle, marry the prince or princess, bring peace to the kingdom and look hot doing it-we are never, ever told, about the compromises, the choices that feel and sometimes are near impossible that you absolutely have to make along the way, and the gift they leave you with, that keeps on giving. Guilt.
My family is Jewish. Before World War II my Mother's family lived in Poland. On the eve of the Nazi invasion, my Grandmother, decided that she would take my mother who was then 9 months old and flee, head east towards Russia. Her mother, my Great Grandmother said, "leave the baby". If my Grandmother "left the baby", I would never have been born. My Grandmother's entire family (with the exception of a few uncles who had escaped to America before the war) died in Treblinka. My Grandma made the decision to do what she felt was best for her baby and for herself. Turned out pretty good for me too. Sadly, the price tag has been pretty high for my Mom, but that is her story to tell.
We have, I imagine, all had to deal with many small Kobayashi Maru moments in our lives, and their aftermaths. None of my decision have been as grave or as serious as my grandmother's decision in 1939. I read about the 50 who stayed at the Fukushima plant, those who are fighting for freedom in Libya ,and I know they have made their decision based on that needs of the many outweighing the needs of the few principle. I wonder if I could? I hope I could. If I had to.
You should know, by the way, in the end, Captain Kirk, lost his best friend, Spock, when Spock made the decision to sacrifice himself, and put the needs of the many, before his own life. You see, in real life, there is no way to reprogram the simulator. There are no easy ways around these situations. You have to know yourself, stand your ground, take a deep breath and just move forward. Please God, when its my turn, let me be able to do what must be done. That's all I ask.
In my extensive research online- two minutes with Wikipedia (and yes, there is more than one page dedicated to Kobayashi Maru as it relates to Star Trek! ) I learned that the direct translation of the word "Kobayashi" means small grove and "Maru" is a common family name and a common suffix for ship names. (For my Japanese speaking readers, if there are any, please forgive me if Wiki has steered me wrong). However, in the vernacular of Star Trek, Kobayashi Maru refers a training mission that actually has no solution. The mission required the Captain and his crew to leave behind a shuttle of personnel in order to accomplish the mission objective, even though the people on the shuttle would most certainly die. It's an impossible situation. The guiding principle is of course, that the needs of the many, outweigh the needs of the few. In the lore of the Trekkies, the only one to ever beat it, of course, was the hero, Captain James T. Kirk. He reprogrammed the simulation computer so he could save the shuttle and complete the mission. He was a smart one that Kirk. and was legend in his own time as a result. A firebrand, a maverick. But the the legend of the Kobayashi Maru would yet come home to roost for Kirk. We'll get to that in a bit.
So you're probably wondering why I'm writing about a fictional training mission from a fictional tv/movie franchise and what the hell it has to do with me. Ok. I'll tell you, since you asked. I've been watching the coverage of what is happening in Japan, and with much less interest, in the middle east and find myself sitting in front of my computer or the television and wondering why my face is wet with tears. I sit here my beautiful office, or my comfortable home in one of the prettiest towns in America, and I wonder how it is I came to be here, and not somewhere else. Fate? Luck? I don't know.
I wonder why in stories the heroes get the girl or boy, the treasure, and the happily ever after, but in reality, they get to fight for freedom and die doing it, or try to keep a nuclear reactor from melting down, and their bounty is radiation sickness and certain painful death. We are told as children that we can all be heroes, we can all slay the dragon, take the castle, marry the prince or princess, bring peace to the kingdom and look hot doing it-we are never, ever told, about the compromises, the choices that feel and sometimes are near impossible that you absolutely have to make along the way, and the gift they leave you with, that keeps on giving. Guilt.
My family is Jewish. Before World War II my Mother's family lived in Poland. On the eve of the Nazi invasion, my Grandmother, decided that she would take my mother who was then 9 months old and flee, head east towards Russia. Her mother, my Great Grandmother said, "leave the baby". If my Grandmother "left the baby", I would never have been born. My Grandmother's entire family (with the exception of a few uncles who had escaped to America before the war) died in Treblinka. My Grandma made the decision to do what she felt was best for her baby and for herself. Turned out pretty good for me too. Sadly, the price tag has been pretty high for my Mom, but that is her story to tell.
We have, I imagine, all had to deal with many small Kobayashi Maru moments in our lives, and their aftermaths. None of my decision have been as grave or as serious as my grandmother's decision in 1939. I read about the 50 who stayed at the Fukushima plant, those who are fighting for freedom in Libya ,and I know they have made their decision based on that needs of the many outweighing the needs of the few principle. I wonder if I could? I hope I could. If I had to.
You should know, by the way, in the end, Captain Kirk, lost his best friend, Spock, when Spock made the decision to sacrifice himself, and put the needs of the many, before his own life. You see, in real life, there is no way to reprogram the simulator. There are no easy ways around these situations. You have to know yourself, stand your ground, take a deep breath and just move forward. Please God, when its my turn, let me be able to do what must be done. That's all I ask.
Friday, January 21, 2011
A Sort of Homecoming
I work in my office alone a lot. For some, a dream, for others a nightmare. For me, a little of both. Fortunately, my friends at Pandora help me pass the time with wonderful music that is tailored to my moods, tastes, and every so often a surprise. Like this morning, when a song from my youth came on and I was thrust back for a moment to a very heady, emotional time and found my self standing face to face with the ghosts of yesteryear, and the ghost of who I used to be as well. The interesting thing is, this is the second time in less than a week that I've been thrust back to the same time period.
Earlier in the week, my husband and I drove my daughter and a friend down to the Philadelphia area, and the closer I got to Philly, the more pensive and dare I say, melancholy, I became. As I've said before, my current life goal is to live creating no further regrets. Obviously I have other goals as well, but this is a big one. As I've also said before, I've created plenty of regrets when I was younger, so many, that it almost necessitates my goal of not creating anymore. I would be racked with guilt and regret and unable to function. Needless to say, Philadelphia reminds me of a regret I have. And it's the worst kind. The kind where if I had just been willing to meet the situation where it was, to accept it as it were, there wouldn't have been that sad, melancholy washing over me as the miles of the New Jersey Turnpike ticked by going southward. Oh yes, we live and learn, and I truly believe that there are no coincidences in life, but it makes me sad to know that I threw away a pure and simple and honest love, because it wasn't exactly the kind I wanted. I know I was wrong. I know I did harm. I know I remain, to my knowledge, unforgiven.
Maybe it is selfish to want to be forgiven, or at least have my apology heard. Maybe I am reaping what I sowed. Maybe it is not my malfunction, but that of the other party that a mistake, albeit a doozie, of 20 years ago cannot be forgiven. I think it's the not knowing that's the worst. I'm putting it into the universe that I'd like the opportunity to apologize. If it's meant to happen, it will. But it's the not knowing that's the worst.
Does this person not care ? Or are they still so angry and hurt after 20 years that they can't possibly entertain forgiving. Do they judge me on who I was then? Keep me in a box where I'm not allowed to change? Or worst of all, not even consider me, as if I never existed, so inconsequential that I'm not even worth a thought. That would be the worst of all not because my ego would suffer, but because that relationship was one of the few at that point in my life that felt real to me. It taught me so much about love. It paved the way for me to shape the ideals that led me to make the choices that led me to where I am now. And so I am grateful for it, regardless of how it turned out.
Looking at it now, in the half light and shadow of distant memory, it is bittersweet, like finding out the tree at your old house wasn't quite as tall as you thought it was when you climbed it as a child. A sort of homecoming.
Earlier in the week, my husband and I drove my daughter and a friend down to the Philadelphia area, and the closer I got to Philly, the more pensive and dare I say, melancholy, I became. As I've said before, my current life goal is to live creating no further regrets. Obviously I have other goals as well, but this is a big one. As I've also said before, I've created plenty of regrets when I was younger, so many, that it almost necessitates my goal of not creating anymore. I would be racked with guilt and regret and unable to function. Needless to say, Philadelphia reminds me of a regret I have. And it's the worst kind. The kind where if I had just been willing to meet the situation where it was, to accept it as it were, there wouldn't have been that sad, melancholy washing over me as the miles of the New Jersey Turnpike ticked by going southward. Oh yes, we live and learn, and I truly believe that there are no coincidences in life, but it makes me sad to know that I threw away a pure and simple and honest love, because it wasn't exactly the kind I wanted. I know I was wrong. I know I did harm. I know I remain, to my knowledge, unforgiven.
Maybe it is selfish to want to be forgiven, or at least have my apology heard. Maybe I am reaping what I sowed. Maybe it is not my malfunction, but that of the other party that a mistake, albeit a doozie, of 20 years ago cannot be forgiven. I think it's the not knowing that's the worst. I'm putting it into the universe that I'd like the opportunity to apologize. If it's meant to happen, it will. But it's the not knowing that's the worst.
Does this person not care ? Or are they still so angry and hurt after 20 years that they can't possibly entertain forgiving. Do they judge me on who I was then? Keep me in a box where I'm not allowed to change? Or worst of all, not even consider me, as if I never existed, so inconsequential that I'm not even worth a thought. That would be the worst of all not because my ego would suffer, but because that relationship was one of the few at that point in my life that felt real to me. It taught me so much about love. It paved the way for me to shape the ideals that led me to make the choices that led me to where I am now. And so I am grateful for it, regardless of how it turned out.
Looking at it now, in the half light and shadow of distant memory, it is bittersweet, like finding out the tree at your old house wasn't quite as tall as you thought it was when you climbed it as a child. A sort of homecoming.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Baggage check
I was thinking about how we become who we are. How much is genetics? How much is the baggage our parents carried, maybe handed down from their parents? How much is random?How much was visited upon us by the actions of others? How much is because we walked through one door, and not another at one time or another in lives?
Hard to say. I can think of a few events that left indelible marks on me that were "big things", but a lot of who I am is because of the little things that left their mark. Of course my big thing might be your little thing and vice versa. I definitely look at back at moments when I took the left fork instead of the right and wonder what would have happened if I had gone the other way.
It's kind of a mindfuck, pardon my french. Because like the dot on the map on those rest stops on the parkway- I AM HERE. But all the same, I wonder. I fantasize, I play out scenarios in my head that could have been had I chosen differently. I know we're not supposed to talk about this. We're not supposed to say anything except "I love my life and am happy with all my choices.". But I don't care. I love my life, and I wonder too. Sue me.
When I was in high school, I had a desperate crush on a boy, and just one time, I had the opportunity to go out with him with a group of his friends. But I had prior plans, a dear friend's sweet sixteen. And at that time I was not yet a girl who would push aside her friend to get closer to a boy. I have wondered a million times what would have happened to me if I had blown off my friend's party, and gone out with this boy and his friends. Would it have changed my high school experience? Would it have changed who I am now? I don't know. Would I have turned out to be a different person? I think perhaps I might have - although whether or not that was for the better is a mystery. At the time I did what I thought was right, and I had to live with consequences. That's right folks, even doing the right thing has consequences. All our actions do. I wish I had known that before I was say, I don't know, 35.
My goal is to die with as few regrets as possible. And in this moment, I am happy to say I am not creating new ones. But I have some old ones that I have to live with, because there is no time machine, no magic dust, no spell to cast that will place me back in time to make a different choice. If there were, I don't think I'd be willing to gamble my present life. Its too precious. Too beautiful. Even with all its imperfection.
So I AM HERE. And my past is my past, and in this very moment I can choose to live any way I want. And if I were a gold fish, that would be awesome. Goldfish have something like a 30 second memory. That's why they are totally ok with living in those stupid bowls. Every thirty seconds is a new experience with no baggage, or so I imagine. The question becomes, for me, and I suppose for all of us, how do we make decisions without dragging around all our crap from our prior decisions like Jacob Marley and his chain of possessions? I guess my answer is, I try to act based on the principles that support my beliefs and not out of fear, or wanting to be seen a certain way. I try. Sometimes I fail, sometimes I succeed. It would be easier to be a goldfish in that respect. However, that would mean I wouldn't remember anything good either, and I would never learn from my mistakes. And the way that life has touched me and moved me and shaped me would not really matter. And sometimes, it seems, the things that hurt the most, and sometimes still sting when called to mind are my greatest teachers, my greatest assets, my greatest tools.
At the end of the day, the goldfish has a kind of limited life. Whereas my life has taken me so many strange and wonderful places, and will continue to do so. I try not to bring all my baggage. But I'm an overpacker by nature, and it turns out sometimes I need that baggage, although most of the time I don't. I am who I am because of my baggage and despite it. You will define me by it or you won't. But I am here. And here is ok. In a minute ,I'll be moving on from here, so I'm going to try to enjoy it, baggage and all.
Hard to say. I can think of a few events that left indelible marks on me that were "big things", but a lot of who I am is because of the little things that left their mark. Of course my big thing might be your little thing and vice versa. I definitely look at back at moments when I took the left fork instead of the right and wonder what would have happened if I had gone the other way.
It's kind of a mindfuck, pardon my french. Because like the dot on the map on those rest stops on the parkway- I AM HERE. But all the same, I wonder. I fantasize, I play out scenarios in my head that could have been had I chosen differently. I know we're not supposed to talk about this. We're not supposed to say anything except "I love my life and am happy with all my choices.". But I don't care. I love my life, and I wonder too. Sue me.
When I was in high school, I had a desperate crush on a boy, and just one time, I had the opportunity to go out with him with a group of his friends. But I had prior plans, a dear friend's sweet sixteen. And at that time I was not yet a girl who would push aside her friend to get closer to a boy. I have wondered a million times what would have happened to me if I had blown off my friend's party, and gone out with this boy and his friends. Would it have changed my high school experience? Would it have changed who I am now? I don't know. Would I have turned out to be a different person? I think perhaps I might have - although whether or not that was for the better is a mystery. At the time I did what I thought was right, and I had to live with consequences. That's right folks, even doing the right thing has consequences. All our actions do. I wish I had known that before I was say, I don't know, 35.
My goal is to die with as few regrets as possible. And in this moment, I am happy to say I am not creating new ones. But I have some old ones that I have to live with, because there is no time machine, no magic dust, no spell to cast that will place me back in time to make a different choice. If there were, I don't think I'd be willing to gamble my present life. Its too precious. Too beautiful. Even with all its imperfection.
So I AM HERE. And my past is my past, and in this very moment I can choose to live any way I want. And if I were a gold fish, that would be awesome. Goldfish have something like a 30 second memory. That's why they are totally ok with living in those stupid bowls. Every thirty seconds is a new experience with no baggage, or so I imagine. The question becomes, for me, and I suppose for all of us, how do we make decisions without dragging around all our crap from our prior decisions like Jacob Marley and his chain of possessions? I guess my answer is, I try to act based on the principles that support my beliefs and not out of fear, or wanting to be seen a certain way. I try. Sometimes I fail, sometimes I succeed. It would be easier to be a goldfish in that respect. However, that would mean I wouldn't remember anything good either, and I would never learn from my mistakes. And the way that life has touched me and moved me and shaped me would not really matter. And sometimes, it seems, the things that hurt the most, and sometimes still sting when called to mind are my greatest teachers, my greatest assets, my greatest tools.
At the end of the day, the goldfish has a kind of limited life. Whereas my life has taken me so many strange and wonderful places, and will continue to do so. I try not to bring all my baggage. But I'm an overpacker by nature, and it turns out sometimes I need that baggage, although most of the time I don't. I am who I am because of my baggage and despite it. You will define me by it or you won't. But I am here. And here is ok. In a minute ,I'll be moving on from here, so I'm going to try to enjoy it, baggage and all.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
I Don't Know....No Really....I Don't
When I was young, maybe 10 or so, I really thought that my parents, and most adults, had it all figured out. Life, that is. They seemed confident, and sure they were right, and they talked and acted like whatever ideas or thoughts they had were right because they were adults.
Fast forward 30 years, and I'm an adult, with a family, and a job, and a home and responsibilities, and I don't know how things look from the outside of my life, but from the inside, I don't feel the way that I thought grown-ups looked like they felt when I was young. If no one else feels this way, then I just outed myself as some kind of nutcase. But my suspicion is that I'm not the only 40 year old walking around in her life feeling like a visitor to a distant planet. And I don't always like it here.
My parents and my teachers and the other adults in my family seemed convinced they were right, about just about everything. School, politics, fashion (I knew they had no clue about fashion- but they were convinced everything I wore was wrong), what I should study in college, what kind of man I should marry (ok- they were right about that!) , and then later, how I should raise my daughter. And even when I was old enough to have my own opinions, I still wavered, because others seemed more convinced. Not a little sure- not kinda sure- but really, truly and totally sure. At least that is what it looked like to me. The confidence that they all seemed to exude in their decisions was amazing to me. I was sure I'd be there by now.
As my daughter and her contemporaries like to say "FAIL". I don't feel confident the way I thought I would. And it seems every time I'm SURE I'm right, I'm not. I am confident in certain things, don't get me wrong. I could be a professional shopper for clothes and make up and shoes, and I can plan a hell of a vacation- but those are not the things that really matter. I feel confident that I know what I know, about my job, and certain areas of life. But I feel like a dilettante when it comes to really knowing about LIFE. Not laundry and cleaning and work, but LIFE- the really important part. The part where you always know what to do and say and how to feel. That part makes me feel like I'm 12 sometimes.
I'm a fairly perceptive person, or so I've been told and I definitely "see" people in a way that makes me able connect to them in a meaningful way when I want to. I often wonder if I see myself as clearly. I don't always trust my instincts, and it seems like more often than not, I should. One area where I feel particularly deficient is in the parenting department. Sometimes, I almost let my 14 year old convince me I'm wrong, and she's right. I don't know if that speaks to her charismatic way of manipulating things or my not being sure about what is best all the time. I want to be loving and encouraging and supportive but at the same time, I know there should be limits, and sometimes punishments, and its complicated and messy, especially for someone who really loves to be loved.
One of the things I am sure of without a doubt is that I don't know as much as I did at 20, or 30 and definitely much less than I did when I was a teenager. I know being right doesn't always make me happy, but I pursue it zealously anyway. I know that no real harm can come of making most mistakes, and that I learn more from those mistakes than I do from my triumphs. I know that life without laughter, love and chocolate can be kind of sad. I know music can change my whole day, and that a call, text, or email from a friend (close or far away) can re-connect me to the world in a way nothing else can. I know that when I smile, people smile back. And that that old adage about getting more flies with honey is true, but that sometimes you need to show people your claws so they don't think you're weak. I know I will survive parenting my teenage daughter, but some days it just doesn't feel that way. And I know that people are more alike than different, no matter what kind of package they come in. Most importantly....I know there's a lot, more than a lot in fact, that I don't know. What's cool is, from that place of not knowing, I can ask someone who does, or experiment and learn on my own, and its amazing...and wonderful and scary, but at least I don't live under the illusion that just because I've reached a certain chronological age or station in life, that I know everything. Because I just don't.
Fast forward 30 years, and I'm an adult, with a family, and a job, and a home and responsibilities, and I don't know how things look from the outside of my life, but from the inside, I don't feel the way that I thought grown-ups looked like they felt when I was young. If no one else feels this way, then I just outed myself as some kind of nutcase. But my suspicion is that I'm not the only 40 year old walking around in her life feeling like a visitor to a distant planet. And I don't always like it here.
My parents and my teachers and the other adults in my family seemed convinced they were right, about just about everything. School, politics, fashion (I knew they had no clue about fashion- but they were convinced everything I wore was wrong), what I should study in college, what kind of man I should marry (ok- they were right about that!) , and then later, how I should raise my daughter. And even when I was old enough to have my own opinions, I still wavered, because others seemed more convinced. Not a little sure- not kinda sure- but really, truly and totally sure. At least that is what it looked like to me. The confidence that they all seemed to exude in their decisions was amazing to me. I was sure I'd be there by now.
As my daughter and her contemporaries like to say "FAIL". I don't feel confident the way I thought I would. And it seems every time I'm SURE I'm right, I'm not. I am confident in certain things, don't get me wrong. I could be a professional shopper for clothes and make up and shoes, and I can plan a hell of a vacation- but those are not the things that really matter. I feel confident that I know what I know, about my job, and certain areas of life. But I feel like a dilettante when it comes to really knowing about LIFE. Not laundry and cleaning and work, but LIFE- the really important part. The part where you always know what to do and say and how to feel. That part makes me feel like I'm 12 sometimes.
I'm a fairly perceptive person, or so I've been told and I definitely "see" people in a way that makes me able connect to them in a meaningful way when I want to. I often wonder if I see myself as clearly. I don't always trust my instincts, and it seems like more often than not, I should. One area where I feel particularly deficient is in the parenting department. Sometimes, I almost let my 14 year old convince me I'm wrong, and she's right. I don't know if that speaks to her charismatic way of manipulating things or my not being sure about what is best all the time. I want to be loving and encouraging and supportive but at the same time, I know there should be limits, and sometimes punishments, and its complicated and messy, especially for someone who really loves to be loved.
One of the things I am sure of without a doubt is that I don't know as much as I did at 20, or 30 and definitely much less than I did when I was a teenager. I know being right doesn't always make me happy, but I pursue it zealously anyway. I know that no real harm can come of making most mistakes, and that I learn more from those mistakes than I do from my triumphs. I know that life without laughter, love and chocolate can be kind of sad. I know music can change my whole day, and that a call, text, or email from a friend (close or far away) can re-connect me to the world in a way nothing else can. I know that when I smile, people smile back. And that that old adage about getting more flies with honey is true, but that sometimes you need to show people your claws so they don't think you're weak. I know I will survive parenting my teenage daughter, but some days it just doesn't feel that way. And I know that people are more alike than different, no matter what kind of package they come in. Most importantly....I know there's a lot, more than a lot in fact, that I don't know. What's cool is, from that place of not knowing, I can ask someone who does, or experiment and learn on my own, and its amazing...and wonderful and scary, but at least I don't live under the illusion that just because I've reached a certain chronological age or station in life, that I know everything. Because I just don't.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
For Auld Lang Syne?
Around 5 am this morning, when sleep was eluding me, I started to wonder what was keeping me up. My mind fell upon the idea that perhaps I had some anxiety related to the changing of the calendar. Silly I know, but that is how my mind works. (ok, how my mind works is actually material for a at the very least a short story and at the very most a novel) Then, because being awake at 5 am when I can sleep until 8 am is not bad enough- Auld Lang Syne started playing on a loop in my head. I started to think about what it meant...and found myself scratching my head because I really didn't know.
Every year we hear, or perhaps sing (if you've had a few pints)-
May old acquaintance be forgot
and never brought to mind
May old acquaintance be forgot
and auld lang syne
For Auld Lang Syne my dear
For Auld Lang Syne
May old acquaintance be forgot
For Auld Lang Syne
What does that mean? May we forget the people we know for days gone by? Huh? Forget, remember? Which one?
I say, both.
As 2009 winds down to it final hours...I'm thinking that there are some things I'd like to forget...resentment, anger, sadness, bitterness, disappoint and fear. I don't want to forget the lessons I learned from those things. Like not to judge, or to ask for what I need, and most of all that everybody is working with their own set of assets and liabilities, and you truly can never, never know what its like to be in another person's shoes- so give people the benefit of the doubt. You and I are more alike than I realize. I learned in 2009 that family is who you choose. And that years and miles don't get in your way if you don't let them. I opened up to my past a bit, and my future was made brighter by it. I forgave old hurts, and let bygones be bygones, and I made boundaries and set limits. All of those things have truly made 2009 my best year yet. No really. I mean it. I forgave some hurts that dated back to high school. Mended some fences that went back that far too. I didn't do it all gracefully, or perfectly, but I took risks and tried. And in the end, I think that's all that really counts.
As far as for "old times sake"- I think that its about letting go of old ideas that don't work, and embracing new ones that do. About myself, other people, and what I and perhaps we can accomplish. It's also about honoring the past, learning from it, not forgetting about it. I have hit some milestones in 2009 - and by my side were the friends who have enriched and sometimes even saved my life, as well as my family - who has always loved me, even when I was utterly unlikable.
I am especially grateful to a friend who I haven't seen or spoken to (except via facebook) in over 20 years who has inspired me to start this blog. His courage to pursue his dreams and forsake some of the goals and values we were taught as kids - the ones like work hard, make money, get a big house, acquire stuff- has touched me deeply, and given me the idea that I could start pursuing my dream, of writing, right here, right now. (Obviously, this is not literature, and I'm not the next Steinbeck, Hemingway, Irving or even Lamb) but its the beginning. Who knows where I"ll end up from here. I hope you'll check in from time to time, and maybe even let me know what you think.
The world is in interesting shape- is it not? Financial insecurity, political unrest, weird obsessions with celebrities and the minutiae of their personal lives (mea culpa, mea culpa) perversion of religion to garner hate and war...doesn't sound too promising does it? Yet, more and more there are people, in ones and twos and tens who are embracing a different kind of thinking. This thinking is on a higher plane- more about the spirit than the corporeal - about how we can bring more peace and love and light to the world - and it gives me a lot of hope.
So to new and old acquaintances, family and friends- may you begin 2010 with hope, and love and comfort. And if you can bring those things to someone else- all the better.
Every year we hear, or perhaps sing (if you've had a few pints)-
May old acquaintance be forgot
and never brought to mind
May old acquaintance be forgot
and auld lang syne
For Auld Lang Syne my dear
For Auld Lang Syne
May old acquaintance be forgot
For Auld Lang Syne
What does that mean? May we forget the people we know for days gone by? Huh? Forget, remember? Which one?
I say, both.
As 2009 winds down to it final hours...I'm thinking that there are some things I'd like to forget...resentment, anger, sadness, bitterness, disappoint and fear. I don't want to forget the lessons I learned from those things. Like not to judge, or to ask for what I need, and most of all that everybody is working with their own set of assets and liabilities, and you truly can never, never know what its like to be in another person's shoes- so give people the benefit of the doubt. You and I are more alike than I realize. I learned in 2009 that family is who you choose. And that years and miles don't get in your way if you don't let them. I opened up to my past a bit, and my future was made brighter by it. I forgave old hurts, and let bygones be bygones, and I made boundaries and set limits. All of those things have truly made 2009 my best year yet. No really. I mean it. I forgave some hurts that dated back to high school. Mended some fences that went back that far too. I didn't do it all gracefully, or perfectly, but I took risks and tried. And in the end, I think that's all that really counts.
As far as for "old times sake"- I think that its about letting go of old ideas that don't work, and embracing new ones that do. About myself, other people, and what I and perhaps we can accomplish. It's also about honoring the past, learning from it, not forgetting about it. I have hit some milestones in 2009 - and by my side were the friends who have enriched and sometimes even saved my life, as well as my family - who has always loved me, even when I was utterly unlikable.
I am especially grateful to a friend who I haven't seen or spoken to (except via facebook) in over 20 years who has inspired me to start this blog. His courage to pursue his dreams and forsake some of the goals and values we were taught as kids - the ones like work hard, make money, get a big house, acquire stuff- has touched me deeply, and given me the idea that I could start pursuing my dream, of writing, right here, right now. (Obviously, this is not literature, and I'm not the next Steinbeck, Hemingway, Irving or even Lamb) but its the beginning. Who knows where I"ll end up from here. I hope you'll check in from time to time, and maybe even let me know what you think.
The world is in interesting shape- is it not? Financial insecurity, political unrest, weird obsessions with celebrities and the minutiae of their personal lives (mea culpa, mea culpa) perversion of religion to garner hate and war...doesn't sound too promising does it? Yet, more and more there are people, in ones and twos and tens who are embracing a different kind of thinking. This thinking is on a higher plane- more about the spirit than the corporeal - about how we can bring more peace and love and light to the world - and it gives me a lot of hope.
So to new and old acquaintances, family and friends- may you begin 2010 with hope, and love and comfort. And if you can bring those things to someone else- all the better.
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