not just something different...

something more.
I'm okay with that.
I am.
And it even makes me smile.
Here
I come, hear?
as I go

She talks to herself. Her self.

"Across the broad continent of a woman's life falls the shadow of a sword." ~Virginia Woolf

I'm reading Eat Pray Love right now. Rather slowly, for some reason, but reading it. I find myself reading books over longer periods of time than I used to. I choose them carefully and let them seep in. I know one can feel saturated by a subject when they dive into it intensely, allowing it to consume a good deal of their time. i do that at times. But recently ive been slow and steady, one refection at a time, one chapter or so at a time, sitting on it, relating...and this is not necessarily such a thought provoking or rather, thought demanding book, I should say. But I'm marking pages.

Gilbert quoting Woolf was one of them...She explains that on one side of the sword "lies convention and tradition and order, where 'all is correct'. But on the other side of that sword, if you're crazy enough to cross it and choose a life that does not follow convention, 'all is confusion. Nothing follows a regular course.'" I think this too goes for men, with some differences of course, taking the influence of history into account, but we will leave gender out of this, Woolf...

I accept a life on the other side of the sword. At times I convince myself that I could be content on the side where 'all is correct' but I eventually feel out of sync with myself and malnourished. I would only despise all that held me in those conventions. The side of the sword where 'all is confusion' is, well, confusing. Much is uncertain, meaning in life is less clear, timelines are less defined, people don't quite know what role to place you in. I often attend dinner parties with 50 year old couples and we all really enjoy each other’s company. It can be odd at holidays to be around married cousins and have less in common with them than with my 14 year old 'nephew.' when others don't quite know how to define us, we can find it a challenge as well.

Gilbert writes: To create a family with a spouse is one of the most fundamental ways a person can find continuity and meaning in American (or any) society...first you are a teenager, then you are a young married person, then you are a parent, then you are retired, then you are a grandparent-at every stage you know who you are, you know what your duty is and you know where to sit at (a family) reunion...at last you are sitting with the ninety-year-olds in the shade watching over your progeny with satisfaction...the satisfaction of this knowledge is immediate, and moreover it's universally recognized. How many people have I heard claim their children as the greatest accomplishment and comfort of their lives? It's the thing they can always lean on during a metaphysical crisis, or a moment of doubt about their relevancy--If I have done nothing else in this life, then at least I have raised my children well. But what if, either by choice or by reluctant necessity, you end up not participating in this comforting cycle of family and continuity?...Where do you sit at the reunion? How do you mark time's passage without the fear that you've just frittered away your time on earth without being relevant? You'll need to find another purpose, another measure by which to judge whether or not you have been a successful human being...I'm lucky that at least I have my writing. This is something people can understand. Ah, she left her marriage in order to preserve her art.

I want to experience the world. Can that be my continuity: the incontinuity of seeing, feeling, trying it all? It's a confusing side of the sword, but challenge never scared me... :)

I want to experience having kids. Well, a singular kid, maybe, but yes, offspring. I don't think it is entirely selfish. I make choices now that effect my life later keeping the possibility of having a kid, whether as a single parent or as a partner, in mind. I think as I professor, I could raise a child on my own. I'm not sure if I will have this profession in the near future, but I'm definitely going to set myself up to be able to be one later.

Anyway, I really, really like seeing only to myself, besides for the rat, or course. I really, really like it. And I accept this lack of convention. Wholeheartedly.

noxious

I bought my rat some food today and asked an employee of the pet store about some good stuff for him to chew on to keep his teeth healthy. Nobody wants a rat with unhealthy teeth and he doesn't take to chewing on the normal wood blocks or dense treats that look like bricks. I don't blame him. He doesn't like salt licks like other rodents. He probably gets enough salt from the food I give him, the woman, Tony, informed me. Then she asked me what I DO feed him. Oh, in addition to the compiled store stuff...lettuce, apples, crackers, cheese, you know rat stuff. CHEESE?! she was blown away. Crackers?!

Turns out that rats shouldn’t eat processed foods. They are bad for their health. Gives them cancer. Tumors. Go figure.

My folks are in Mexico in a house shared among friends. One room is left empty reserved for another couple that had to stay home. His current Chemo treatments just steal all his energy, make it difficult to travel.

I had to inform the Athletic Director of the High School that I just cannot make an emergency meeting for all coaches this Monday night. My friend's son has leukemia and is having a fundraiser for his medical expenses that evening.

I sit down now to a processed tortilla spread with philadelphia cream cheese, canned refried beans, and some non-organic salsa. Think I'll have a glass of breast cancer-causing wine afterwards.

and toast to a parasitic world.

Who's Special? weekly reflection

What makes you feel special?
When someone calls me because they genuinely just want you to know something about them or their day...more so than when someone calls to see how you are: that always seems to have a self-serving twist...like they will feel good and gain something by checking in on a friend and maintaining the relationship. The specialness causing act seems less rationalized, without justification, based on pure desire to share themselves and they choose you to share it with.

Lattés in cafes with no agenda but only a paper to read

being good at something and knowing it sets me apart as an individual yet I have the capabilities to share it with a group and better a situation.

Well-made dinners on Friday nights with content company and good wine.

When I am kind to strangers

Going to the movies with a blanket



If I am special then________________...
I have a gift to share with the world. I have talents and qualities unique to me that are useful in the larger world.

I deserve to be loved.


When do you feel less than?

When I have to do something I don't want to do, have little say over, or receive little reward for. That's about it. I feel special most of the time and realize that my degree of this sentiment is very minimally affected by other people and their actions...don't get me wrong, those actions create other sentiments, sometimes great and welcomed, sometimes negative and more frequently than I would desire.



If someone is considered more special than me, what does this say about who I am?

If I desired truly the same desires as that person and thus what they have that sets them apart as special, I could work hard or focus my energy and become special in that way, time, or place as well. But one cannot be special in relativity to all things simultaneously. But I choose to be special in certain ways.

Myopia--weekly reflection

What choices are facing you this week? rather odd, I think to have choices face you, rather than facing toward choices...being the object, rather than the subject...

Always, how I use my time: will I accomplish a task, or let it sit on a list of obligations that weigh heavily at times and at others, seem trivial. And what if there are no really pressing tasks to accomplish? how will I use this time? Will I put off something that does not urgently stare me in the face? How will I keep the perspective of time and change?

What will I give to the people around me: my full potential of kindness, attention, my best self? When faced with the opportunity to easily give less, will I loose energy and cheat myself and others?

What will I give to potential longer-term relationships? We are constantly faced with the opportunity let some go or to build upon what already exists. We are constantly faced with the choice to explore giving and receiving from newer acquaintances or to put up a wall and let it go undeveloped.

How will you face them? Centered and balanced or out of fear and anxiousness?
I tend to turn off, let thoughts go incomplete, undeveloped when it comes to a decision that has an outcome that I have less control over. I feel centered because I make up my mind and then don't question, but rather turn stone-like, unwavering. But this is most likely rooted in fear and the need for concrete determination.

Will you give yourself time to reflect and sink into your should and allow the answers to rise?

I often fight myself, like I should desire something different than I sometimes do or should create a different outcome than what I normally get, not accepting what is easy or most natural, but in a constant drive to achieve what is seemingly more challenging or just different. So sometimes I fight the thoughts I get, try not to be too analytical when I know I can alter a path with a decision. I can try to accept my natural states and tendencies and listen to what I am and desire without judgment or desire for change.
Change is not synonymous with improvement or advancement.

love play, play love

I made a love playlist on my computer this evening...
the desire inspired by?
February 14th up and coming? perhaps, but it has not been on my mind...well, I can't say that: I did buy my mom flowers on Saturday, since I wont be seeing her that day.
Spending the last 24 hours with my much-loved Rose and Chad visiting from Napa? Maybe...but I particurly included songs that envoke future-oriented, intimate feelings rather than those for contentment and gratitude.
Feeling the love and passion for life after a fun day of skiing with friends? most likely...it was a good day, full of shared energy, shared thoughts, shared enjoyment, experience...
I fell in love a little today :)
and it inspired me with 12.5 hours of songs to maintain the emotion.
and wore me out.
sweet
dreams
dream
sweetly

Where has all the poker gone?

True wealth can not be found in your bank account.
It can only be found in those you call friend.
Those with whom you share your deepest feelings.
And those who accept you for who you really are. - Mary Vandergrift

How many people do I call friend yet with whom don't share my deepest feelings, who don't accept me for who I really am, but that I treat more like a value to be deposited in a bank account?

It often surprises me, who my friends are, after taking a deliberate look every once in a while...

They can be found at home, in the person with whom you rarely sit rather than the person with whom you frequently play. Within the group of friends: the person who grounds you, calms your energy, chooses their own words carefully and brings forth your profound thoughts, rather than the person who charges your air, who beckonds your company, who is there at the drop of a hat. Within a person who might outwardly seem like with whom you would have much less in common than with a person closer in age, your same sex, with a similar lifestyle, who shares your current lifestage.

And of course their are those friends who simultaniously appear to be the friend and who truly fit the definition. And there are those people who appear to fit the definition yet don't only because you don't let them enter that deap honesty of your being. And while there is much to be gained by letting many more into that space, I too believe there must be some benefit to keeping some people in your life as simple playmates. Who do we choose to be friends and why? Who do we let stay around that exterior bubble? Do we always have a choice in the matter, as an individual and as participants in a pair of people sharing an experience? Who's bubble are you within, yet they remain outside your own? Who have you welcomed in, yet might rest outside their exterior?

A night planned around a game of poker with some friends, some aquaintences with who we bounce happily off eachothers bubbles like atoms who frequently encounter eachother, touch, bounce, exchange energy, bouce again, turned into a nearly 4 hour conversation with two friends. Friends. I let them in, they let me in: both much diferently, of course...due to our joint histories, our energies, our life situations. But we let eachother in. And, for me, for whom its less familiar a thing to do, less natural than for many others...it is good practice, and a gift to myself, of course, and I, and we all, must believe, truly, a gift to the others as well.

Waking Life

I would like to watch that movie again. How long has it been...?...since that time in my life...6 years, I would guess. That movie can mark a turning point to my thoughts, priorities, hobbies, values...not that the movie impacted me to this extent, but I was exploring, growing, aware of more, excited for my potential and went to the theater to watch Waking Life. I think I went with some friends from college, perhaps all piled into Aaron's old maroon car: Kathy, Mike, Sodes, Bell and I...Perhaps that was the time I rode my bike from parkland to downtown during one of those dreary, yet inspiring overcast afternoons, getting a flat and taking the bus, to the...what WAS it called, that old theater? With the great coffee shop next door...I loved those mornings, afternoons, nights. Whether alone, with the company of a thought provoking companion, with a rowdy friend from the Spar, or with a group that could take on any discussion. At 3 am. At the 24 hr coffee shop, run over with studiers from colleges combined.

That movie was just a title to my blog, but thank you for the memories...!

The Waking Life. Been awake since 2. Bed by 11, awake by 2. Thinking till 4, writing till 5:30. Time to get up! The character in waking life dreams so well that he does not know whether he is asleep or dreaming, his conversations and thoughts are so vibrant. I am certain I am awake. And I am waking my life. Nothing better to do at 5 am than make 1 week to 10 year goals! If only the day lent enough energy to begin tackling them after a night with wide-open eyes.

Perhaps I will post them, though, thanks to an admirable move by Merv. Expose it all:)

paradise found...for 2/4/08

I had...THE best freeking day.
I entered heaven once every 15 minutes: falling, with complete trust, falling like flying, through clouds, so soft, yet unpredictable. A challenge. Is heaven challenging? My heaven definitely is. Heaven, in my terms, might be synonymous with challenge. Oh, it was beautiful. And needed.
Powder day at Squaw Valley. A whole day with my pops. As an equal. Creating pride and connection between us both. And it was fun! Exploration, challenge, adventure, conversation, seeking, completing, cheese burgers!, beers, pushing, pushing, naturally, connection, pride, comfort, exhaustion, satisfaction, irish coffees, friends, irish coffees, friends! showers and bed. Exhaustions. Satisfaction. Connection.
Definition.

Thank you, Billy?

She can kill with a smile, she can wound with her eyes
She can ruin your faith with her casual lies
she’ll only reveal what she want’s you to see
She hides like a child but she’s always a woman to me.

She can lead you to love, she can take you or leave you
She can ask for the truth but she’ll never believe you
And she’ll take what you give her as long as its free
Yeah she steals like a thief but she’s always a woman to me.

Oh, she takes care of herself she can wait if she wants she’s ahead of her time
Oh, and she never gives out, but she never gives in she just changes her mind

And she’ll promise you more than the garden of Eden
Then she’ll carelessly cut you and laugh while you’re bleeding
But she’ll bring out the best and the worst you can be
Blame it all on yourself cause she’s always a woman to me
Mmmmm, hmmmm, mmmm….

Oh, she takes care of herself she can wait if she wants she’s ahead of her time
Oh and she never gives out, and she never gives in she just changes her mind

She’s frequently kind and she suddenly cruel
She can do what she pleases, she’s nobodies fool
And she can’t be convicted, she’s earned her degree
And the most she will do will throw shadows at you but she’s always a woman to me

Mmmmm…hmmmmm…mmmmm

She

I am a puzzle
composed of parts of my father and my mother, naturally.
Their pieces fit perfectly snug together, hence they built a steadfast marriage.
but the picture they create is anything but predictable and sometimes strikes you as ugly, but quite a product that I think would baffle any takers to the challenge of piecing it together.
I think it would be most similar to one of those 3dimentional, castle-like puzzles: definitely not one you can frame and hang on your wall, all complete and containable.

I am my mother’s eye for detail and my father’s creativity. I am my father’s adventure and my mother’s need for structure. I am his risk-taking, embrace the unknown and her mellow, love for comfort. I am her let loose, be loved, laugh, ignore judgment…his perceive, his control, his create, his show, his tall wall. I am his active and her laze. I am her saneness and his craze. Her craze and his sane. His think her feel, his think…his think.

I am swirling, a bit lost, pulled, never pushed, lead, followed, following…

I feel like making popcorn, a fire, and playing the Life with Rose…while watching the Wizard of Oz, in the hottub, drinking lemonade, and playing Barbies.

I am my parents’ daughter.