8 sept 2013

what i want you to understand is that i'm different. and you are different. we are, all of us, different. and i'd have us all meet in the middle somewhere, but it doesn't work like that. not most of the time. hardly part of the time. we bicker about the things that matter to us because we are passionate about our beliefs, but how to express them to others without the Cost. the Cost is lost affection, individual pain, separation from those for whom there is a mutuality of care. put more simply: how does one not become "butt hurt?"

i say this from the trenches, friends. some of us are excessively sensitive to things that no one should be sensitive to. i can cry at the drop of a hat, it seems. most of the time i recognize the origin of those out-of-control emotions and reel it in. other times i spout off with verbal diarrhea that is offensive and ill-timed and so emotionally driven that it's difficult to discern which parts of what i'm saying are based in fact. 

i was once told by a manager at a job that i hated for half a year that i had no right to cry about my hurt feelings because i didn't have a husband who left me alone with nothing and two young sons to raise, therefore i couldn't possibly have it rough. you know what: she was wrong. it's not about comparing your circumstances to mine and passing judgement (or vice versa). we all all come with our own baggage. i'm in my mid-thirties and i still haven't learned how to pack light. and my skin is only slightly thicker than it was when i was at that job a decade ago.

when i mentioned that i work hard all the time in yesterday's blog, i don't think i really touched on all that this entails. i work hard to be the best me and constantly challenge myself to change in this way or that, provided that it means improved quality of life. however, i think much of it has devolved into berating myself for not having accomplished enough to truly achieve the end goal. it sucks to be a perfectionist. but don't you feel too sorry for me (if you are): the blessing these days is that i can recognize the difference between the striving and the bit of self-loathing that rears its head. it's not always realized right away, and that is what makes me falter. 

my question to you: what's one hard lesson you've learned about yourself in recent years? let's talk about it. i am eternally curious.  


7 sept 2013

another turn 'round the sun...

this year has gone by swiftly. every day chock-full of schooling and working and plans and packing and moving and spending time with this person and that person. this morning is the first time i've woken up to find myself alone, apartment empty, cats purring, eagerly anticipating breakfast. or, at the very least, it's the first of its kind in recent memory where i'm not rushing off to break the reverie by running errands or driving to an internship or planning for the future. don't get me wrong--i have things to do. the list looks like this (in no particular order): 
  • go to work, research/prep for interview
  • play piano
  • evaluate scholarship essays
  • call my sis about dinner
  • unpack file cabinet boxes
  • go to gym
  • read
  • organize clothes in closet 
what i'm saying is that it's nice to sit around with my coffee and watch a russell brand interview that makes me laugh, read a few pages of fitzgerald, and play with the cats. no tv this morning. i think i waste too much time on television and netflix videos, but sometimes it's the easiest way to decompress. that said, i frequently look back on all those hours and think i could have written to jason or robyn or adrienne (to name just a few). but i've been so worn out, friends. i don't give myself a break. ever. until today. even with a list of tasks to be tackled, i feel positive and energetic.

what's new? new digs that provide amazing sunrise sky-scapes and plenty of space for my stuff. job opportunities & interviews. love. music.

on that note, and want for introspection and quiet, i leave you with a link to a video from campfire ok, one of my favorite discoveries of the year. check them out, if you will. i've enjoyed them immensely.