Coming into America…
The first people I see…they have meaning that they cannot know, and they might not even understand.
I see them in their diversity and also in their inequality. In my hometown, at least, white people are the ones traveling, black and latino people are helping them do it.
Usually I am very pleased to see them all, thinking about how great my nation is, really. That’s what I was brought up to think. Watch any channel exported, calling itself “international”, like CNN, and I see my nation (“MY nation”, my country). Patriotism couldn’t be further apart as a concept of pride and citizenship /belonging between a German and an American.
What did Monika say last Wednesday: Ein Mensch ist 96% unbewusst, nur 4% bewusst. (A person is 96% unconscious, only 4% conscious of all that is around them.)
I would believe it, really. We do not know all of what influences us—I realized scent really influenced my emotions (the white carnation and red rose I doused in Dad’s cologne after he died, flowers pulled from the bouquets on his grave.) Then, I learned that our sense of smell might be the oldest sense we have, buried deep within our brains with its synapses and connectors...
I was at yet another German wedding last week. The party was additionally fun because of the music played—total ausgeprägt von Goth und 80-ziger Jahren hits! The Cure, The Clash, Sisters of Mercy, U2, and then Nirvana and Green Day.
I felt a pride that always occurs with hearing good English-language music.
I just sang along and looked around as I danced, wondering how many others would know the lyrics, AND what they meant at the time they were written or now. Somewhere singing along to U2. Tears filling my eyes at how far away Double Cell really is from me..and then we embrace eachother whole-heartedly after months of barely virtual communication. Someone wasn’t their to feel the distance with me.
WHY have we chosen this?? WHY have I chosen this life for myself??! This distance in my heart, my life, my understanding, is always somehow apart…if it wasn’t already, then I imagine it. Apart, disoriented, but mostly lovely. This is a partial response to Double Cell's musings on travel.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Let's Talk About Egypt
By now I'm sure most of our readers have gathered that Jenius and I are expats living outside of our native U.S. Jenius on the European continent and me somewhere in one of the Gulf Cooperation Council countries with loads of oil rents flowing in. I want to say briefly that one thing Jenius and I KNOW- in our guts- is that traveling makes us very happy and it is a cure for many of the traps we lay for ourselves. This is because the vastness of the world will humble you, if you let it. (Jenius may have other ideas as well for why this is the case).
So, I was in Cairo last week on business and fell in love with the place. It was dirty, it was crowded, cars do not stop unless they have to through collision (no traffic lights). People were invigorated over the revolution. Every Egyptian I encountered would be friendly and ask eventually, "Did you hear about Tahrir Square?" Such a proud moment it was for them to have overthrown their government. When one can feel the euphoria of a poor or middle class man/woman's triumph over a dictator with a 30-year reign, one can serious gain some perspective.
Travel also renews the longing I have for those I love. When you're too busy to remember what's important on a day-to-day basis with job, study, whatever, there is nothing like a volley over to a country where history is being made. Speaking of which, I hope to get to Iran next year.
So, I was in Cairo last week on business and fell in love with the place. It was dirty, it was crowded, cars do not stop unless they have to through collision (no traffic lights). People were invigorated over the revolution. Every Egyptian I encountered would be friendly and ask eventually, "Did you hear about Tahrir Square?" Such a proud moment it was for them to have overthrown their government. When one can feel the euphoria of a poor or middle class man/woman's triumph over a dictator with a 30-year reign, one can serious gain some perspective.
Travel also renews the longing I have for those I love. When you're too busy to remember what's important on a day-to-day basis with job, study, whatever, there is nothing like a volley over to a country where history is being made. Speaking of which, I hope to get to Iran next year.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Breaking Boredom: Happiness in Spite of Monotony!!
Sometimes I feel like I need someone to pinch me. I had a short dream the other night that I woke up (in the dream) and was back in the U.S. somewhere familiar as if the last 5 years hadn’t passed. I remember in the dream that I said to myself, “I just knew it was a dream!” What is so strange about the place I currently live is the lack of people like me- young (ish), not married but with someone, certainly not a virgin since at least the age of 20, maybe living in sin, no kids (yet), working full time, literate in the English language, American or at the least British or at least some kind of European with a sense of humor. It’s a wasteland. It’s a bit like being back in the village in rural Northeast Thailand where hot weather would render everyone useless (but here it's a glut of money that makes people useless)- I spent 2 weeks lying beneath a fan on a tile floor eating nothing but mangoes, drinking water and reading Henry Kissinger’s Diplomacy - except this country has some modern trappings like a movie theater, shopping malls, fancy restaurants- that don’t seem to make a difference in the lack of variety. This could be because the movies are cut to shreds by censors in the Ministry of Interior, malls are all the same with little variety, and there is no wine on the menus. I am certainly describing a redundancy of existence that few other places could match.
Does this mean I have, myself, grown boring and redundant? I hope not and, oh dear, must do something soon! My mother suggested I start a book club. This idea is sound, very sound, indeed. The lack of bookstores, however, as well as people who read, is discouraging to she who is looking to be discouraged (yes, that is me). If I am not looking to be discouraged I would go to the one bookstore I know of and snatch up some extra copies of some Victorian novel (which I know they have in abundance) and start passing them out. Or I would consider just sending out an email to my fellow employees and seeing who’s interested…yes, maybe that’s the way to get a diverse group of people together. Anything to break the monotony that numbs me into laziness.
Does this mean I have, myself, grown boring and redundant? I hope not and, oh dear, must do something soon! My mother suggested I start a book club. This idea is sound, very sound, indeed. The lack of bookstores, however, as well as people who read, is discouraging to she who is looking to be discouraged (yes, that is me). If I am not looking to be discouraged I would go to the one bookstore I know of and snatch up some extra copies of some Victorian novel (which I know they have in abundance) and start passing them out. Or I would consider just sending out an email to my fellow employees and seeing who’s interested…yes, maybe that’s the way to get a diverse group of people together. Anything to break the monotony that numbs me into laziness.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Normal
What is normal?
I always thought it was an insult. I thought it meant boring, uninteresting, bland. If a person was "normal" then they have a "normal" job, a "normal" life trajectory, etc.
When I first moved to Germany, I had a friend I respected very much for being who she was. One day, she said to me, as we were discussing life and more philosophical matters, "Ich bin ein normaler Mensch." She just stated it with some consigned feeling of acceptance and even contentment or pride...pride in simply knowing what she was. I remember thinking that I was shocked that she said it with such apparent apathy. I thought, perhaps it means something different in German.
But, no. I means that she thinks she is just simply a "normal person". And that's fine and good.
I always avoided consigning myself to any category, trying to avoid limiting my actions, my thoughts, dreams, potential for anything. However, I start to wonder if maybe life would be easier (and happier) if I just accepted a few "facts" or details that seem to stick hard and fast to me.
I also have a "problem" with wanting to be many things (thus, the avoidance of category placement) and sometimes it is a psychological strain to simply keep trying or thinking in a way that brings me into some discovered self or brings me to maintain how special or interesting I may be.
I am tired.
That's another topic, but the topic of being "normal" is what I want to think about.
I want to concentrate for longer than 5 minutes on it. And I was able to do that while running yesterday (an hour in the forest).
As Deleuze states, we are always in the process of "becoming", of becoming woman, white, heterosexual, middle class. But, then we also have a collision with other knowledge, other ways of "being" and "becoming" that challenge us. Other philosophers (cited so often in my area of study) go on to talk about performing and performativity.
Where does performing begin and "real" activity, some might say, "honest" activity or truth begin?
My problem is that I believe in these philosophies. I believe that we all perform most of the time; We all have "situated" knowledge that is our capsule that is our source of education or indoctrination, or our "becoming"...
How can the two be thought of for me?
I want to always "become" - it's not about "development" or progress. It's experience and challenge.
Perhaps, that is "normal".
I always thought it was an insult. I thought it meant boring, uninteresting, bland. If a person was "normal" then they have a "normal" job, a "normal" life trajectory, etc.
When I first moved to Germany, I had a friend I respected very much for being who she was. One day, she said to me, as we were discussing life and more philosophical matters, "Ich bin ein normaler Mensch." She just stated it with some consigned feeling of acceptance and even contentment or pride...pride in simply knowing what she was. I remember thinking that I was shocked that she said it with such apparent apathy. I thought, perhaps it means something different in German.
But, no. I means that she thinks she is just simply a "normal person". And that's fine and good.
I always avoided consigning myself to any category, trying to avoid limiting my actions, my thoughts, dreams, potential for anything. However, I start to wonder if maybe life would be easier (and happier) if I just accepted a few "facts" or details that seem to stick hard and fast to me.
I also have a "problem" with wanting to be many things (thus, the avoidance of category placement) and sometimes it is a psychological strain to simply keep trying or thinking in a way that brings me into some discovered self or brings me to maintain how special or interesting I may be.
I am tired.
That's another topic, but the topic of being "normal" is what I want to think about.
I want to concentrate for longer than 5 minutes on it. And I was able to do that while running yesterday (an hour in the forest).
As Deleuze states, we are always in the process of "becoming", of becoming woman, white, heterosexual, middle class. But, then we also have a collision with other knowledge, other ways of "being" and "becoming" that challenge us. Other philosophers (cited so often in my area of study) go on to talk about performing and performativity.
Where does performing begin and "real" activity, some might say, "honest" activity or truth begin?
My problem is that I believe in these philosophies. I believe that we all perform most of the time; We all have "situated" knowledge that is our capsule that is our source of education or indoctrination, or our "becoming"...
How can the two be thought of for me?
I want to always "become" - it's not about "development" or progress. It's experience and challenge.
Perhaps, that is "normal".
Monday, May 16, 2011
Two Sides of the Same Coin
One thing that used to vex me growing up was this problem of fitting into a larger society. I was growing up in a conservative, Biblebelt area of the U.S. and it seemed that the only three paths I was introduced to were bogus: Beauty pageant; The path of false fundamentalist religion; or the outcast "Freak". It was a quick study: No, no and, "fine, if I must." I didn't want to fit into any box but I recognized that the path I wanted to take fit only one of those which was the "Freak" category reserved for artists, gays, or otherwise moody individualists. We were the precursors to the "Emo" kids of today except we were lonelier and more isolated but we preferred that to the company of the pagaentess or the Jesusfreak.
The reason I bring this up is because there is a population of us ladies who some men (and women) like to characterize as "masculine" women (of course the inverse exists for men). I've had people characterize me in this way since I was a teenager and I've always eventually embraced it. In the beginning I worried about it because I wasn't sure what that meant for (you guessed it) my HAPPINESS in life.
Why did people call me "masculine" or "manly"? Good question! I think it was because of some very basic personality traits: Self-confidence coupled with the unwillingness to give ground to others (particularly men); Minimal interest in fashion, make-up and other wastes of time and money; Just plain not-giving-a-shit about others' opinions or so-called accepted ways of behaving; Not seeking approval; the list could go on but those are some basic ones. Oh, and the ever obnoxious one: Having an f-ing strong opinion on something and being able to argue it. And I guess this was particularly frustrating for some people because I look very feminine and am what is known as "pretty" (slim-ish, long hair, delicate and symmetrical features). Oh! What a disappointment to past hopeful suitors I was!!
At the root of this blog is the question of happiness and what makes us happy. I want to underscore that one major indicator of happiness is the freedom to make one's own choices. Thankfully, as a female born into a certain position in a certain country with certain role models and breeding, I have been able to take full advantage of having choices.
Once I googled "masculine women" and I got all this trash about how women shouldn't be like men, play sports, take risks, oppose their parents or husband- essentially be un-pretty. All this draconian mumbo-jumbo that makes good bedfellows with Islamic Wahhabism in Saudi Arabia- except that it's in the U.S. pedaled by Southern Baptists. Now, I am for people having their spiritual beliefs but my heart goes out to women and men growing up in a society of mental midgets (however small) in the U.S. who will have their happiness cut off (er, circumcised) even before they know it exists. I was smart when I was a teenager- I knew I would get out of a certain limiting society eventually and explore my freedom- and I just tolerated my situation and bided my time until I could leave and experience what I knew was out there.
Let's have a moment of silence to pray for those young people who will never know the happiness that comes from making choices: self-acceptance, self-confidence and trust, taking risks, and most importantly- making mistakes (with it's other side of the coin) experiencing successes! This is our destiny as fully actualized adults who can improve the world in all manner of big and small ways. Man-woman, black-white, gay-straight, animal-vegetable-mineral, all these multiplicities exist for a reason beyond pure science: To challenge us. For those who want to take away the challenge and belittle the richness of difference- you can disagree but get out of my way!
The reason I bring this up is because there is a population of us ladies who some men (and women) like to characterize as "masculine" women (of course the inverse exists for men). I've had people characterize me in this way since I was a teenager and I've always eventually embraced it. In the beginning I worried about it because I wasn't sure what that meant for (you guessed it) my HAPPINESS in life.
Why did people call me "masculine" or "manly"? Good question! I think it was because of some very basic personality traits: Self-confidence coupled with the unwillingness to give ground to others (particularly men); Minimal interest in fashion, make-up and other wastes of time and money; Just plain not-giving-a-shit about others' opinions or so-called accepted ways of behaving; Not seeking approval; the list could go on but those are some basic ones. Oh, and the ever obnoxious one: Having an f-ing strong opinion on something and being able to argue it. And I guess this was particularly frustrating for some people because I look very feminine and am what is known as "pretty" (slim-ish, long hair, delicate and symmetrical features). Oh! What a disappointment to past hopeful suitors I was!!
At the root of this blog is the question of happiness and what makes us happy. I want to underscore that one major indicator of happiness is the freedom to make one's own choices. Thankfully, as a female born into a certain position in a certain country with certain role models and breeding, I have been able to take full advantage of having choices.
Once I googled "masculine women" and I got all this trash about how women shouldn't be like men, play sports, take risks, oppose their parents or husband- essentially be un-pretty. All this draconian mumbo-jumbo that makes good bedfellows with Islamic Wahhabism in Saudi Arabia- except that it's in the U.S. pedaled by Southern Baptists. Now, I am for people having their spiritual beliefs but my heart goes out to women and men growing up in a society of mental midgets (however small) in the U.S. who will have their happiness cut off (er, circumcised) even before they know it exists. I was smart when I was a teenager- I knew I would get out of a certain limiting society eventually and explore my freedom- and I just tolerated my situation and bided my time until I could leave and experience what I knew was out there.
Let's have a moment of silence to pray for those young people who will never know the happiness that comes from making choices: self-acceptance, self-confidence and trust, taking risks, and most importantly- making mistakes (with it's other side of the coin) experiencing successes! This is our destiny as fully actualized adults who can improve the world in all manner of big and small ways. Man-woman, black-white, gay-straight, animal-vegetable-mineral, all these multiplicities exist for a reason beyond pure science: To challenge us. For those who want to take away the challenge and belittle the richness of difference- you can disagree but get out of my way!
Friday, May 13, 2011
COME FROM WITHIN
Pursuit of Happiness in Remembrance--Diary from June 2002
"Granddad takes his place up there with Dad."
"The last father who will never meet another man I love."
"I still think of death at happening 6 years ago, not yesterday"
"Big houses with widows"
"I believe that I will lose all I am in touch with now -- the landscape of Tennessee and my mother--"
And now...
What's this block? Living 'under his roof', that's my state. My man is like my father. I don't care what he says, I feel it.
I FEEL IT. It is my own block and what's the remedy (right now, will I milk it for all the melancholy it's worth?)
He isn't here... but he fixed this pen I write with.
I thought today about sitting with my father while he was trying to teach me maths.
I was so intimidated in his presence, his expectations-- didn't want to let him down...wanted to show him I could do the math.
But, when I couldn't, I couldn't just TELL him. I just sat there silent tears would stream down my face and I would feel ashamed on several levels still intelligible to me today.
I would feel ashamed, panicked that I couldn't speak/explain/I wasn't encouraged to...
something desperate about that dynamic -- so desparate I was...
Vater/Tochter
Am I really forever searching for that???"!
It's NOT that simple. I need to acknowledge and act on my own agency. That's happiness-- to do just that
I don't want to just be acted upon or encouraged or inspired or pushed into any one direction. I want it come from within.
What is this new phase now?...
"Granddad takes his place up there with Dad."
"The last father who will never meet another man I love."
"I still think of death at happening 6 years ago, not yesterday"
"Big houses with widows"
"I believe that I will lose all I am in touch with now -- the landscape of Tennessee and my mother--"
And now...
What's this block? Living 'under his roof', that's my state. My man is like my father. I don't care what he says, I feel it.
I FEEL IT. It is my own block and what's the remedy (right now, will I milk it for all the melancholy it's worth?)
He isn't here... but he fixed this pen I write with.
I thought today about sitting with my father while he was trying to teach me maths.
I was so intimidated in his presence, his expectations-- didn't want to let him down...wanted to show him I could do the math.
But, when I couldn't, I couldn't just TELL him. I just sat there silent tears would stream down my face and I would feel ashamed on several levels still intelligible to me today.
I would feel ashamed, panicked that I couldn't speak/explain/I wasn't encouraged to...
something desperate about that dynamic -- so desparate I was...
Vater/Tochter
Am I really forever searching for that???"!
It's NOT that simple. I need to acknowledge and act on my own agency. That's happiness-- to do just that
I don't want to just be acted upon or encouraged or inspired or pushed into any one direction. I want it come from within.
What is this new phase now?...
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Crystal Ball
Fate is a mystical thing. As I mentioned, I'm moving in with Ulster and cleaning up my apartment I come across lose change. Except mine is change from seven countries/ zones:
UAE, Syria, Jordan, Eurozone, US, Morocco, Kuwait
How would I have known 10 years ago that I'd be here and have accumulated such a rich history. Rich, why? Because with every one of these countries, there's this strong, very strong, impression that is truly visceral.
UAE- Dubai, Abu Dhabi, need I say more? OK, it's the power and wealth in sun-scorched environs. But it's also promise and expectations and the slippery slope of lust!
Syria- Phoning up my ex in a hostel in the old city and having him get annoyed; Really the beginning of the end for me emotionally with that one. The deserted Jewish quarter. The markets, the friendly locals and the companionship of a certain diminutive Italian lady.
Need I continue??
Jenius can relate to this. We're both obsessed with memory and passions and epiphanies, an indulgence I only allow myself really when I'm with her or interacting with her. It's a drowning feeling and I have to be in the mood.
So, fate, like I was saying, who would've known that 10 years after I watch the Twin Towers collapse in my mother's den that I would end up over here in the armpit of the Middle East? And that I'd find love here! Sheesh.
UAE, Syria, Jordan, Eurozone, US, Morocco, Kuwait
How would I have known 10 years ago that I'd be here and have accumulated such a rich history. Rich, why? Because with every one of these countries, there's this strong, very strong, impression that is truly visceral.
UAE- Dubai, Abu Dhabi, need I say more? OK, it's the power and wealth in sun-scorched environs. But it's also promise and expectations and the slippery slope of lust!
Syria- Phoning up my ex in a hostel in the old city and having him get annoyed; Really the beginning of the end for me emotionally with that one. The deserted Jewish quarter. The markets, the friendly locals and the companionship of a certain diminutive Italian lady.
Need I continue??
Jenius can relate to this. We're both obsessed with memory and passions and epiphanies, an indulgence I only allow myself really when I'm with her or interacting with her. It's a drowning feeling and I have to be in the mood.
So, fate, like I was saying, who would've known that 10 years after I watch the Twin Towers collapse in my mother's den that I would end up over here in the armpit of the Middle East? And that I'd find love here! Sheesh.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Happiness through setting boundaries
It seems that every time I hear someone complain about a relationship (friend, husband, boyfriend, boss) the tension can often be explained by (lack of) communication or otherwise setting boundaries between the two people. I would say that the biggest problem in human relationships is that most of us don't really understand ourselves. Are we really introspective? Are we able to look ourselves in the eye and recognize the fears, limitations, pain, insecurities and other conditions that make us who we are? And then are we able to reveal them to someone we trust?
My personality is one that enjoys revealing herself, even to people I don't trust, and I've had to learn to moderate this exhibitionism. In this case, it's like I'm setting boundaries with myself. I think if you've ever had to discipline yourself, hold yourself back, truly scold yourself for bad behavior, you may have an idea of what introspection really is and how difficult boundaries are to negotiate. I used to make a pastime out of introspection but this can be a tricky thing because I've known people who practice self-delusion as introspection. It's nearly impossible to get someone who is convinced they're in touch with themselves that they are, in fact, a bit delusional.
I also have a desire to please and impress others which has also had to undergo a facelift after I realized I wasn't willing to sacrifice myself on the chopping block of perfection. I'll never be the perfect sister, daughter, wife, mother, employee or other role because I have flaws and weaknesses whether it is a love of the good life, resistance to authority figures, selfishness or others. Recognizing my inability to be perfect is essentially the sentiment that allows me to be frank and to lay bare some of my weaknesses and to say "no" by drawing the line in the sand.
BTW, when I say "perfect", I refer to the unfortunate belief that one can be perfect. Also there is that situation where a person believes they are already perfect (often embedded early on by indulgent parental figures) or when a person believes that we were, in fact, perfect at one point in the recent past. Either way, all are delusions.
So, in case you needed yet another reason to truly look inside yourself and be honest with yourself about who you are and what you need, etc. here it is: HAPPINESS
My personality is one that enjoys revealing herself, even to people I don't trust, and I've had to learn to moderate this exhibitionism. In this case, it's like I'm setting boundaries with myself. I think if you've ever had to discipline yourself, hold yourself back, truly scold yourself for bad behavior, you may have an idea of what introspection really is and how difficult boundaries are to negotiate. I used to make a pastime out of introspection but this can be a tricky thing because I've known people who practice self-delusion as introspection. It's nearly impossible to get someone who is convinced they're in touch with themselves that they are, in fact, a bit delusional.
I also have a desire to please and impress others which has also had to undergo a facelift after I realized I wasn't willing to sacrifice myself on the chopping block of perfection. I'll never be the perfect sister, daughter, wife, mother, employee or other role because I have flaws and weaknesses whether it is a love of the good life, resistance to authority figures, selfishness or others. Recognizing my inability to be perfect is essentially the sentiment that allows me to be frank and to lay bare some of my weaknesses and to say "no" by drawing the line in the sand.
BTW, when I say "perfect", I refer to the unfortunate belief that one can be perfect. Also there is that situation where a person believes they are already perfect (often embedded early on by indulgent parental figures) or when a person believes that we were, in fact, perfect at one point in the recent past. Either way, all are delusions.
So, in case you needed yet another reason to truly look inside yourself and be honest with yourself about who you are and what you need, etc. here it is: HAPPINESS
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Love and Happiness
The other night my partner told me he loved me for the first time since we started our relationship 11 months ago. It got me thinking how, had it been 5 years ago, my ego might not have put up with waiting for nearly a year as it thankfully did! I was so proud of myself for putting my faith in him and in my ability to be patient and love him without succumbing to short-sighted expectations.
We were watching the royal wedding the other night and I'm not a royal enthusiast by any means, but I was struck by the words of the Bishop of London:
A spiritual life grows as love finds its centre beyond ourselves. Faithful and committed relationships offer a door into the mystery of spiritual life in which we discover this; the more we give of self, the richer we become in soul; the more we go beyond ourselves in love, the more we become our true selves and our spiritual beauty is more fully revealed. In marriage we are seeking to bring one another into fuller life.
Again, maybe I'm old-fashioned, but it rings true to me that a committed, physical and spiritual union between two people who have full trust and respect is the most powerful way to become fully self-actualized. But it's not enough just to say you love or to marry someone- you have to really believe and want to believe in the love you have with this person and have it tested over and over again.
I fully believe in the love I share with my partner, who I will call Ulster. It grew out of a very painful experience- an emotionally scarring break-up with a man not suited to me in age, personality or drinking. My friendship with Ulster was part of what persuaded me to take the final step to end the relationship with my ex because Ulster was such a man!! He was so kind, adorable and a good listener with a feistiness and sense of humor that kind of immediately convinced me that I would never find him dull in the least.
And I haven't. Actually, his presence (his voice, his smell, his hands) is like a cure and he's firmly implanted into me like a strong, comforting, and exquisite memory (kind of like the ones Jenius wrote about from childhood). I look back on the torture that that breakup caused me and the patience Ulster showed me and I just feel so blessed! I had to get through that heartbreaking and cruel shit in order to thrive. I prayed that Ulster would stick with me long enough to know whether we might make it and he did so much more.
So...Love... That's kind of it for me- the root of happiness is love. It's the knowledge that you are loved and that you CAN love someone in return. We're just people for goodness sakes.
We were watching the royal wedding the other night and I'm not a royal enthusiast by any means, but I was struck by the words of the Bishop of London:
A spiritual life grows as love finds its centre beyond ourselves. Faithful and committed relationships offer a door into the mystery of spiritual life in which we discover this; the more we give of self, the richer we become in soul; the more we go beyond ourselves in love, the more we become our true selves and our spiritual beauty is more fully revealed. In marriage we are seeking to bring one another into fuller life.
Again, maybe I'm old-fashioned, but it rings true to me that a committed, physical and spiritual union between two people who have full trust and respect is the most powerful way to become fully self-actualized. But it's not enough just to say you love or to marry someone- you have to really believe and want to believe in the love you have with this person and have it tested over and over again.
I fully believe in the love I share with my partner, who I will call Ulster. It grew out of a very painful experience- an emotionally scarring break-up with a man not suited to me in age, personality or drinking. My friendship with Ulster was part of what persuaded me to take the final step to end the relationship with my ex because Ulster was such a man!! He was so kind, adorable and a good listener with a feistiness and sense of humor that kind of immediately convinced me that I would never find him dull in the least.
And I haven't. Actually, his presence (his voice, his smell, his hands) is like a cure and he's firmly implanted into me like a strong, comforting, and exquisite memory (kind of like the ones Jenius wrote about from childhood). I look back on the torture that that breakup caused me and the patience Ulster showed me and I just feel so blessed! I had to get through that heartbreaking and cruel shit in order to thrive. I prayed that Ulster would stick with me long enough to know whether we might make it and he did so much more.
So...Love... That's kind of it for me- the root of happiness is love. It's the knowledge that you are loved and that you CAN love someone in return. We're just people for goodness sakes.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
remembering happiness in different forms
There is the joy and the pain, these two words I use in with the formulation of joy of love, of kindness, newness, excitement and openness. And Pain. Pain is of the promises entered into unawares of the outcome, and simply accepting that the outcome was unknowable. Pain is realization. And joy is overcoming.
We can all hope for something meaningful… meaningful that we can hold up as evidence to others or, most importantly, for ourselves, and say, “Look, I am loved. I have a partner devoted.”
The closeness which we may feel with others really determines how truthful we are to ourselves and what we choose to reveal and to heighten and recognize. This is the truth.
In the presence of strangers, I have had the best epiphanies. But, it’s been awhile since I have placed myself so completely among strangers in a way that led to some abandon. Or is it abandon? It is frank openness, although I am also too prone to styling myself, to being opaque and not being
I do not like this.
I want it.
That is one element-the unexpected, the openness, the newness-that one needs in life to be inspired and to keep on living…
We can all hope for something meaningful… meaningful that we can hold up as evidence to others or, most importantly, for ourselves, and say, “Look, I am loved. I have a partner devoted.”
The closeness which we may feel with others really determines how truthful we are to ourselves and what we choose to reveal and to heighten and recognize. This is the truth.
In the presence of strangers, I have had the best epiphanies. But, it’s been awhile since I have placed myself so completely among strangers in a way that led to some abandon. Or is it abandon? It is frank openness, although I am also too prone to styling myself, to being opaque and not being
I do not like this.
I want it.
That is one element-the unexpected, the openness, the newness-that one needs in life to be inspired and to keep on living…
happiness as memory
Boston “More Than a Feeling” Pizza Hut mid 80’s
Video games- racing game where you could sit and had a black plastic steering wheel between your childish legs.
That massive set of large video game consoles that used to pepper public family restaurants and bars in the 80’s (not that I would be so familiar, the smell of Pizza Hut will take me back there…) Packman, Packwoman
Dark, wood paneled (fake wood), a Budweiser beer ad in neon, but the smell…
Christmas lights draped around the ceiling or somewhere around –just a general clutter of STUFF that certain American chains now do so well.
Pizza Hut gingham red and white table clothes
Video games- racing game where you could sit and had a black plastic steering wheel between your childish legs.
That massive set of large video game consoles that used to pepper public family restaurants and bars in the 80’s (not that I would be so familiar, the smell of Pizza Hut will take me back there…) Packman, Packwoman
Dark, wood paneled (fake wood), a Budweiser beer ad in neon, but the smell…
Christmas lights draped around the ceiling or somewhere around –just a general clutter of STUFF that certain American chains now do so well.
Pizza Hut gingham red and white table clothes
Pursuing Love
My boyfriend of about a year just asked me to move in with him. I felt, well, thrilled that we are moving in that direction (we already spend every night together at each others apartments). We would be moving into mine if it had the view of the skyline, a BBQ and pool. Anyway, in the past, I have been very reluctant to live with a boyfriend. Call me old-fashioned but I just didn't feel comfortable doing it unless I was engaged/ married. This has mostly to do with personal space issues of which I have my share.
I grew up in a house with a brother and sister and all of us had our own rooms which my dad and mom and their frugal habits deserve all the credit for. As a result, I need my alone time and plenty of design authority over my environment. Now, I certainly can't predict how this will go but my boyfriend's apartment is small and though I don't have too much stuff, it will be enough to really make the place COZY. Perhaps, too cozy. If I move in with him, will I get my space, my alone time, my choice of sheets and wall hangings, etc.?
We'll have to see. I decided right then when he asked that, yes, I would move in with him and am eager to merge our spaces.
My sister asks me, "Do you really want to give up your own space?" She says my apartment has better feng shui. I do prefer the design of my apartment, it's bigger, more spacious. However, it's also a bigger and more spacious pain in the ass. I've done this pros and cons thing before (better shower pressure, larger TV, digital satellite service) and, in the end, I have to go with my gut.
We'll have to set down some rules like you have to rinse your dirty dishes, always! We have to clean equally and maintain a level of cleanliness his bachelor ways are not accustomed to. We will have to take down a bunch of things in the apartment and redesign it.
Try, try, try.
I grew up in a house with a brother and sister and all of us had our own rooms which my dad and mom and their frugal habits deserve all the credit for. As a result, I need my alone time and plenty of design authority over my environment. Now, I certainly can't predict how this will go but my boyfriend's apartment is small and though I don't have too much stuff, it will be enough to really make the place COZY. Perhaps, too cozy. If I move in with him, will I get my space, my alone time, my choice of sheets and wall hangings, etc.?
We'll have to see. I decided right then when he asked that, yes, I would move in with him and am eager to merge our spaces.
My sister asks me, "Do you really want to give up your own space?" She says my apartment has better feng shui. I do prefer the design of my apartment, it's bigger, more spacious. However, it's also a bigger and more spacious pain in the ass. I've done this pros and cons thing before (better shower pressure, larger TV, digital satellite service) and, in the end, I have to go with my gut.
We'll have to set down some rules like you have to rinse your dirty dishes, always! We have to clean equally and maintain a level of cleanliness his bachelor ways are not accustomed to. We will have to take down a bunch of things in the apartment and redesign it.
Try, try, try.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
In Hot Pursuit
It is a rare thing for me these days to actually sit down and think about the overall meaning of what I’ve accomplished as well as the direction in which I’m headed. Perhaps it’s a testament to how hard I’m working and using up my brainpower to serve this company.
I googled “happiness” today. It was after a day which started off as an elongated sleep till about 10 am, a dusty walk to work for 10 minutes, an interesting discussion with a Texas oil man in Afghanistan, and numerous conversations with colleagues who bring me positive feelings of acceptance and encouragement.
Given the numerous definitions of happiness, it is expected that I shouldn’t be able to find satisfaction with any one of the supposed sources. However, there is one definition which seems to ring particularly true for me which is the one that says happiness comes from service to a cause, an institution, another person, and I think that for me this has been particularly true.
It was Eleanor Roosevelt who said it, stated conviction about service to others. I'm not likely to achieve her accolades, but I am a woman of strong conviction and tender heart.
There is nothing sexy about "serving" something or someone. I go in day after day to this office where the rewards are pretty few in number. The owners are cheap as hell, and serious racism, nationalism and other stupid 'isms keep me from taking the whole thing 100% seriously. To be honest, I have always worked in a 75% capacity at a job. I have 100% days, sure, but overall I lack motivation to dig in and aim for the 100%+ that fools banter about. This is easy to explain- I'm not paid enough and half the time the people who need to listen are not or they do and then get annoyed at my "wet blanket" attitude. This is what happens when your role in the organization is to tell everyone about the endless list of things that could go wrong. Call it what you will, but I am SERVING this company with all my eagerness.
I still believe that one of the most challenging ways to show love is to tell someone something they don't want to hear. And then to sit there and argue about it with them for a year or so. That takes guts and a thick skin.
If you're hanging around at work and doubting your significance in the universe, continue to do so. It's one of the main things that keeps me motivated. That, and the love and respect of my boyfriend.
I googled “happiness” today. It was after a day which started off as an elongated sleep till about 10 am, a dusty walk to work for 10 minutes, an interesting discussion with a Texas oil man in Afghanistan, and numerous conversations with colleagues who bring me positive feelings of acceptance and encouragement.
Given the numerous definitions of happiness, it is expected that I shouldn’t be able to find satisfaction with any one of the supposed sources. However, there is one definition which seems to ring particularly true for me which is the one that says happiness comes from service to a cause, an institution, another person, and I think that for me this has been particularly true.
It was Eleanor Roosevelt who said it, stated conviction about service to others. I'm not likely to achieve her accolades, but I am a woman of strong conviction and tender heart.
There is nothing sexy about "serving" something or someone. I go in day after day to this office where the rewards are pretty few in number. The owners are cheap as hell, and serious racism, nationalism and other stupid 'isms keep me from taking the whole thing 100% seriously. To be honest, I have always worked in a 75% capacity at a job. I have 100% days, sure, but overall I lack motivation to dig in and aim for the 100%+ that fools banter about. This is easy to explain- I'm not paid enough and half the time the people who need to listen are not or they do and then get annoyed at my "wet blanket" attitude. This is what happens when your role in the organization is to tell everyone about the endless list of things that could go wrong. Call it what you will, but I am SERVING this company with all my eagerness.
I still believe that one of the most challenging ways to show love is to tell someone something they don't want to hear. And then to sit there and argue about it with them for a year or so. That takes guts and a thick skin.
If you're hanging around at work and doubting your significance in the universe, continue to do so. It's one of the main things that keeps me motivated. That, and the love and respect of my boyfriend.
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