Dear You,
I always had an idea of you in my head, but like everything else, I figured my expectations were too high and I would need to settle like everyone else. When I left my past life, I knew there was a high probability that I would be alone and over time, I learned to be ok, if not happy, with that. But then I met you. And your wonderful sarcasm and blue eyes and broad shoulders. And your slight arrogance that is just enough to be attractive...your 'not-even-close-to-politically-correct' rants, your laugh, the way you say my name, your lips....I guess I should be sending a thank you card to Facebook and Four Peaks, because without those two silly little things my life would be vastly different and much less fun. You have shown me what real love is, as much as I didn't want to admit it existed, you proved me wrong. Instead of backing away during my most difficult times, you are always front and center. Thank you. For everything. Since music is 'my thing', these remind me of you:
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Monday, September 20, 2010
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Focusing on the positive
is not something I do naturally. Often, trying to 'see things realistically' causes me to be negative, to say the least. These are some of the final days that my dad has, and I have been with him everyday since Saturday. Although this is perhaps one of the most difficult times of my life, I am trying to consciously focus on positives so as not to go...well...insane. As I did about a year ago, here is a list of things that bring happiness:
- Remembering Mom's last birthday- I went shopping for my dad to buy her the best presents money could buy, and it was probably one of the best birthdays to date. She got a bag, new knives, perfume, new earrings, and best of all, Dad was still able to sit up and laugh and talk. Alyssa made a cake that was shaped like a hummingbird and it was amazing. Just thinking about that day makes me smile.
- My fuzzy, red blanket from Costco. That thing can put me to sleep like nothing else.
- Pedicures- I've started forcing myself to get them on a regular basis because that is at least 45 minutes of time where I can zone out and think about nothing. My current toenail color is blue. Yes, blue.
- Driving my car- that German has some umph and every now and then it's nice to take a drive.
- Scented candles after a long day- there's nothing quite like sitting in the light of a candle that smells like chocolate coconut.
- Tall shoes. The novelty still hasn't worn off as I bought a new pair several weeks ago.
- Jay, of course.
- Netflix instant documentaries- I have become addicted and have nearly watched all of them.
- The people I work with. They're still wonderful.
- A little tan dog that never barks and is always a Good Girl.
- Country music- no better reminder of my dad's better days than that.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Personal Inventory
Sometimes when one makes decisions, no matter how much planning and foresight went into said decision, it still doesn't work out nearly as planned. And unfortunately, those decisions often come with consequences. It seems that despite meticulous planning, life never works out as intended.
During the past 10 months, I have worked tirelessly to create a new life for myself. One filled with freedom, responsibility, passion, joy and success. Realistically, that's what everyone wants regardless of whether they admit it or not. I think humans desire the feelings of liberation and happiness that comes with perseverance to achieve something, no matter how small. As I began to settle in to this new life, I was abruptly reminded that I was indeed living life and not a fairy tale.
Consequences from altering my prior life still exist as a burden both physically as there is still unfinished business and emotionally as I must often consciously remind myself that people are not all the same. I am more willing to accept these struggles as they came from my own choices and decisions.
But what about the 'consequences' that came from nothing more than being a part of humanity? I suppose those are the ones that I should concern myself least with; however, those are the struggles that consume me the most. Watching the progression of cancer transform both of my parents' lives at a torturous snail's pace is almost too much to handle at times. Yet as long as it seems that I have been an observer in their struggles, time has gone entirely too fast. It is difficult to describe the pain that comes with watching one person die, much less two people, and having zero control over anything. There is a line in one of my favorite songs that simply says "love is watching someone die", which perhaps seems strange but there is a calming, happy truth to that. And as a result, I suppose I feel almost privileged to love in that capacity.
What I find to be the strangest part of this chapter in my life is that although there are times I feel intense pain, those times are often outweighed by incredible happiness. I have found something that makes me truly, uncontrollably happy...rather, it found me. I haven't decided what it is yet. I think most people would call it love, but I'm not convinced that fully explains it. Society has many variations on the 'love' theme, none of which really matches what I'm experiencing. I suppose it's more like a contentedness that you feel after an extravagant dinner where you don't need nor want to eat anything else. Where even thinking about eating anymore makes you feel a little uncomfortable. Where all you want to do is nap with a grin of satisfaction as you fall asleep.
I never thought I would discover what it really meant, my happiness. Now I think I have an idea. On the dark and cold and miry path that has and continues to be my journey, I have somehow stumbled upon a light that has yet to go out. I mentally trained to take that journey alone, preparing for the unease as I walk in the dark. I meticulously planned how to handle the shock of turning the corner to face whatever monster lurked there alone. But life never works out as planned. And in this case, I am thankful it didn't. Although I still must keep moving forward on the road that scares me more than anything I can imagine, I am clutching onto the light that somehow decided to walk with me. And because of that, he makes it a little easier to see...
During the past 10 months, I have worked tirelessly to create a new life for myself. One filled with freedom, responsibility, passion, joy and success. Realistically, that's what everyone wants regardless of whether they admit it or not. I think humans desire the feelings of liberation and happiness that comes with perseverance to achieve something, no matter how small. As I began to settle in to this new life, I was abruptly reminded that I was indeed living life and not a fairy tale.
Consequences from altering my prior life still exist as a burden both physically as there is still unfinished business and emotionally as I must often consciously remind myself that people are not all the same. I am more willing to accept these struggles as they came from my own choices and decisions.
But what about the 'consequences' that came from nothing more than being a part of humanity? I suppose those are the ones that I should concern myself least with; however, those are the struggles that consume me the most. Watching the progression of cancer transform both of my parents' lives at a torturous snail's pace is almost too much to handle at times. Yet as long as it seems that I have been an observer in their struggles, time has gone entirely too fast. It is difficult to describe the pain that comes with watching one person die, much less two people, and having zero control over anything. There is a line in one of my favorite songs that simply says "love is watching someone die", which perhaps seems strange but there is a calming, happy truth to that. And as a result, I suppose I feel almost privileged to love in that capacity.
What I find to be the strangest part of this chapter in my life is that although there are times I feel intense pain, those times are often outweighed by incredible happiness. I have found something that makes me truly, uncontrollably happy...rather, it found me. I haven't decided what it is yet. I think most people would call it love, but I'm not convinced that fully explains it. Society has many variations on the 'love' theme, none of which really matches what I'm experiencing. I suppose it's more like a contentedness that you feel after an extravagant dinner where you don't need nor want to eat anything else. Where even thinking about eating anymore makes you feel a little uncomfortable. Where all you want to do is nap with a grin of satisfaction as you fall asleep.
I never thought I would discover what it really meant, my happiness. Now I think I have an idea. On the dark and cold and miry path that has and continues to be my journey, I have somehow stumbled upon a light that has yet to go out. I mentally trained to take that journey alone, preparing for the unease as I walk in the dark. I meticulously planned how to handle the shock of turning the corner to face whatever monster lurked there alone. But life never works out as planned. And in this case, I am thankful it didn't. Although I still must keep moving forward on the road that scares me more than anything I can imagine, I am clutching onto the light that somehow decided to walk with me. And because of that, he makes it a little easier to see...
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Have you ever wanted something that you can't have? Why are those things always the most appealing? Sticking to the theme of my last post, if everything is about choice, why do I choose to desire what is impossible to have? I suppose you could chalk it up to grass is greener mentality, or perhaps it's something more than that... If circumstances were different, this might be attainable. But circumstances can't and won't change, so what do I do with that? I think for now I find contentment in what I do have given the circumstances...
On a different note following the title of this blog, the following has given me some sort of happiness these past few days:
Mr. Legend has gotten me through some rough days. And it helps that he's easy on the eyes, too...
Hopefully over time this list will get longer.
On a different note following the title of this blog, the following has given me some sort of happiness these past few days:
- Wall sconces- I don't know why but I suddenly love them. It was like a double slice of satisfaction because not only did I find an awesome sconce on sale, but I also hung it up straight all by myself. No boys needed.
- Work folks- I love them. 'Nuff said.
- Unnecessarily tall shoes- I've worn them almost everyday this week. Spending time with tall folks helps, too.
- Music- specifically the fellow below
Mr. Legend has gotten me through some rough days. And it helps that he's easy on the eyes, too...
Hopefully over time this list will get longer.
Perspective
What is it that drives people? Drives people to love, live, succeed, take risks? I've had a lot of time to think about...well, everything lately. A few nights ago I got into a discussion with a friend about what causes humans to keep going. Why are some people more ambitious than others? Why do some people push themselves when others don't? During this discussion, religion was inevitably brought up. Ask me five years ago what drives people and my answer would undoubtedly be God. But when asked on Thursday, I had a vastly different answer: survival. If everyone just expected nothing of themselves and sat around, I believe that humans would just die off. There would be no progress, no innovation, no sense of accomplishment.
Taken another step further, people are so incredibly different, but so obviously the same. Every person desires to feel accomplished and successful. And those definitions are different for each person. For some, accomplishment and success are felt when a huge career milestone is reached, for others it is felt when they become parents. Whatever the definition, those feelings are vital in order to persevere and maintain forward momentum. Why, then, are so many people unhappy, unfulfilled, unambitious, and content to float in a pool of mediocrity? Choice.
I started to think about that a little more, and realized that everything revolves around choice. Some choices are easier to recognize than others, but that is ultimately what it boils down to. These days, I face a continuous mental struggle and I have to very deliberately choose to come out the other end better off. It would be so incredibly easy to make excuses and say 'well, it's not my fault this is happening to me. You can't possibly expect anything from me during this time because of X, Y, and Z." Instead, I am challenging myself to push through and get through this. I will keep expecting success of myself, if not more than before because of what I am going through. That is the drive that keeps humanity going. EVERYONE has issues. There is not a single person living a perfect life. It is how you react to those difficult situations that create greatness or failure.
Once the choice is made to react one way or another, there has to be some sort of expectation. I think the reason why some people aren't driven or motivated is because there is nothing expected of them. And by that I don't mean others' expectations, I mean internal expectations. I have unreasonably high expectations of myself, and to most people that is an unrealistic, impossible standard but it keeps me going. I expect myself to produce good work, get out of bed and be productive, maintain friendships, be a loyal person, etc. I have a lot of personal expectations that keep me motivated. When people don't have any expectations of themselves because of circumstance, they lose the mental struggle of "I can't do it because of this, this, and this". Replace excuses with expectations, and choose to meet or exceed those expectations and perhaps that is the start to finding true happiness...
Taken another step further, people are so incredibly different, but so obviously the same. Every person desires to feel accomplished and successful. And those definitions are different for each person. For some, accomplishment and success are felt when a huge career milestone is reached, for others it is felt when they become parents. Whatever the definition, those feelings are vital in order to persevere and maintain forward momentum. Why, then, are so many people unhappy, unfulfilled, unambitious, and content to float in a pool of mediocrity? Choice.
I started to think about that a little more, and realized that everything revolves around choice. Some choices are easier to recognize than others, but that is ultimately what it boils down to. These days, I face a continuous mental struggle and I have to very deliberately choose to come out the other end better off. It would be so incredibly easy to make excuses and say 'well, it's not my fault this is happening to me. You can't possibly expect anything from me during this time because of X, Y, and Z." Instead, I am challenging myself to push through and get through this. I will keep expecting success of myself, if not more than before because of what I am going through. That is the drive that keeps humanity going. EVERYONE has issues. There is not a single person living a perfect life. It is how you react to those difficult situations that create greatness or failure.
Once the choice is made to react one way or another, there has to be some sort of expectation. I think the reason why some people aren't driven or motivated is because there is nothing expected of them. And by that I don't mean others' expectations, I mean internal expectations. I have unreasonably high expectations of myself, and to most people that is an unrealistic, impossible standard but it keeps me going. I expect myself to produce good work, get out of bed and be productive, maintain friendships, be a loyal person, etc. I have a lot of personal expectations that keep me motivated. When people don't have any expectations of themselves because of circumstance, they lose the mental struggle of "I can't do it because of this, this, and this". Replace excuses with expectations, and choose to meet or exceed those expectations and perhaps that is the start to finding true happiness...
Friday, June 19, 2009
The Age Old Question
Nope, nothing to do with a chicken or an egg. Why do bad things happen to good people? As often as that question is asked, I'm not certain that anyone has the answer. My dad is battling lung cancer and for a 74 year old man, he's kicking its ass. But before the cancer, there were still complications. For twenty years of my life, I wanted nothing more than to exchange my dad for another one. Our relationship was so strained that even a simple hello could turn our interaction into an explosive, days long fight. I tip-toed around him so as not to disturb the delicate balance we had when there was finally peace between us. We were polar opposites: I liked to joke- he was serious, vacations to me were for relaxing- he always had a tight schedule, I was more liberal- he was straight laced conservative. We just had nothing in common but strands of DNA. I am ashamed to admit, but there would be times in my life where I would purposefully try to exclude my dad. Not because I was embarrassed of him, but simply because it was easier to exclude him than to fight him. As I grew up, the first thing on my agenda after turning 18 was to get out from under his roof. Finally, some peace. But even living in separate locations, the tensions between us grew to the point that I actually went 8 months without speaking, seeing, or interacting with my father. Bipolar disorder is the nastiest disease that exists (except for one, but I'll get to that later). For 8 months and 11 days, I have never felt such incredible, searing pain. I knew very well that the person who would get angry, frustrated, and upset was not my real father. That damned disease kept him suppressed. His sense of humor, his hilarious stories, his intelligent mind, his charisma, his unwavering loyalty...all suffocating under the heavy disease that was intent on rotting him from the inside out. But if you know me, my favorite kind of stories are redemption stories, and this is without a doubt a redemption story. After not seeing me for what felt like years, he knew he had to make a change. And he did. When I saw his phone number flashing on my cell phone screen, my hand literally shook. I reluctantly clicked 'send' on my phone which began my relationship with the most amazing father even my best dreams could not have created.
For a year and a half, my life with my dad was literally perfect. We joked, and told stories, and laughed, and talked about the world, and he became my best friend. What terrified me most for twenty years of my life was when the cancer eventually took my mom, I would be left with my dad. But not anymore because I knew that when the time came for her to go, I would have my dad and we could make up for lost time, just the two of us. We never mentioned the past, because even now when I try to think about those times, they are blurry like someone took those photos and smudged them so much that only the silhouettes of the subjects are recognizable. I was driving home from work in September of 2007 when that familiar screen of an incoming call was again flashing on my cell phone. My mom was calling to tell me about peculiar doctor's appointment. It appeared that when doing a routine physical for my dad, they discovered there were spots on his lungs. Not a big deal, lungs have age spots just like skin. But to be sure, a biopsy was scheduled. My mom was going to call me during my morning break to give me the results. The chances of cancer are so small and besides, Dad hasn't smoked in over twenty years. Regardless, I sat in a corner of the cafeteria at work clutching my phone like it was a fish that would wiggle away if I didn't grip it tight. The familiar flashing of an incoming call appeared and I found my hand shaking again. When I first heard the words "it is cancer" I literally thought I was dreaming. There was no way. I just got my dad. Twenty years of hoping for him, and getting him, only to potentially lose him from none other than cancer.
Thus began the year of surgeries, a heart-attack that I was certain would be his demise, hope of the tumors shrinking, surprise to hear they have spread, radiation, chemotherapy, injections, radiologists, oncologists, pills... He had his last treatment a few weeks ago. The doctors are certain they have contained the cancer cells. I am not so sure, but what choice to I have but to hope that they are gone? Dad does not look like himself. Inside, he is the same. Outside, he looks tired, thin, old, frail; not the strong, handsome, fun loving person he used to look like. Good thing looks don't change who you are. He was well enough to go to Chris's graduation party, and even better than that, he looks happy:
But back to my initial question, why do bad things happen to good people? My dad is the best person there is, who is going through some of the worst hell there is. I am not really sure. Why did we have to spend twenty years under a cloud of bipolar disorder only to spend another one fighting for air in the grips of cancer? I have a theory: perhaps bad things happen to everyone. Good, bad, in between. Sure, the degree of 'bad' is different but bad is bad, right? So if bad things happen to everyone, perhaps I should be leaping for joy that my dad is a good person. Because if bad things happen to everyone, not just good people, imagine being a terrible person undergoing cancer. Who would help you? Who would support you? Probably no one. With my dad, being an amazing person, he gets at least one card in the mail on a daily basis. People want to visit him, help him, bring him food, show love. I have never seen people love each other like I have when my dad got cancer. Some days I will go to my parents house and there will be one visitor after another, sitting on the floor next to him, showing him art that children have made for him, telling him jokes. Perhaps I shouldn't focus on the 'why' but instead on the 'what'. I think it is a waste of energy to figure out why, but seeing what people do during those hard times is what really matters.
My dad should hopefully start to feel more like himself in the next few weeks. His hair is slowly starting to grow back. So I will leave a picture of old times in hopes that soon it will be like that again:
For a year and a half, my life with my dad was literally perfect. We joked, and told stories, and laughed, and talked about the world, and he became my best friend. What terrified me most for twenty years of my life was when the cancer eventually took my mom, I would be left with my dad. But not anymore because I knew that when the time came for her to go, I would have my dad and we could make up for lost time, just the two of us. We never mentioned the past, because even now when I try to think about those times, they are blurry like someone took those photos and smudged them so much that only the silhouettes of the subjects are recognizable. I was driving home from work in September of 2007 when that familiar screen of an incoming call was again flashing on my cell phone. My mom was calling to tell me about peculiar doctor's appointment. It appeared that when doing a routine physical for my dad, they discovered there were spots on his lungs. Not a big deal, lungs have age spots just like skin. But to be sure, a biopsy was scheduled. My mom was going to call me during my morning break to give me the results. The chances of cancer are so small and besides, Dad hasn't smoked in over twenty years. Regardless, I sat in a corner of the cafeteria at work clutching my phone like it was a fish that would wiggle away if I didn't grip it tight. The familiar flashing of an incoming call appeared and I found my hand shaking again. When I first heard the words "it is cancer" I literally thought I was dreaming. There was no way. I just got my dad. Twenty years of hoping for him, and getting him, only to potentially lose him from none other than cancer.
Thus began the year of surgeries, a heart-attack that I was certain would be his demise, hope of the tumors shrinking, surprise to hear they have spread, radiation, chemotherapy, injections, radiologists, oncologists, pills... He had his last treatment a few weeks ago. The doctors are certain they have contained the cancer cells. I am not so sure, but what choice to I have but to hope that they are gone? Dad does not look like himself. Inside, he is the same. Outside, he looks tired, thin, old, frail; not the strong, handsome, fun loving person he used to look like. Good thing looks don't change who you are. He was well enough to go to Chris's graduation party, and even better than that, he looks happy:
But back to my initial question, why do bad things happen to good people? My dad is the best person there is, who is going through some of the worst hell there is. I am not really sure. Why did we have to spend twenty years under a cloud of bipolar disorder only to spend another one fighting for air in the grips of cancer? I have a theory: perhaps bad things happen to everyone. Good, bad, in between. Sure, the degree of 'bad' is different but bad is bad, right? So if bad things happen to everyone, perhaps I should be leaping for joy that my dad is a good person. Because if bad things happen to everyone, not just good people, imagine being a terrible person undergoing cancer. Who would help you? Who would support you? Probably no one. With my dad, being an amazing person, he gets at least one card in the mail on a daily basis. People want to visit him, help him, bring him food, show love. I have never seen people love each other like I have when my dad got cancer. Some days I will go to my parents house and there will be one visitor after another, sitting on the floor next to him, showing him art that children have made for him, telling him jokes. Perhaps I shouldn't focus on the 'why' but instead on the 'what'. I think it is a waste of energy to figure out why, but seeing what people do during those hard times is what really matters.
My dad should hopefully start to feel more like himself in the next few weeks. His hair is slowly starting to grow back. So I will leave a picture of old times in hopes that soon it will be like that again:
For A Change
I figure it's past due for me to start writing in a blog like an adult and not utilize the sinking ship that is MySpace. This is partly due to the fact that I have needed a place to share my thoughts and be me. Without this group judging me for not being professional enough, or this group judging me for not being religious enough, or this group judging me for not x,y,& z enough. Now you can all judge me at once. If you wish. Or perhaps you can see these posts as variables that all add up to me and who I am, or at least striving to be.
I titled this blog On Learning About Happiness. I was thinking about calling it a pursuit or seeking of happiness, but I realized that without really having a solid understanding of what happiness is, it would be hard to start seeking something not yet definable or clearly recognizable. Instead, I opted to use learning about happiness. What is happiness and where is it found? Is there a difference between happiness and contentment? There have been times in my life when I assumed that some thing or some event would make me happy. But to my surprise, that thing or event really did not. Other times I have assumed the opposite: that this career choice or location to live would really make me miserable, but I was also surprised to find that I ended up being happy. So I suppose the purpose of taking the time to sit at my computer, log on to my blog, and write is to share my life experiences, thoughts, and questions in an effort to learn about happiness and maybe gain some perspective.
To start, this little lady without a doubt can al
ways make me happy.
I titled this blog On Learning About Happiness. I was thinking about calling it a pursuit or seeking of happiness, but I realized that without really having a solid understanding of what happiness is, it would be hard to start seeking something not yet definable or clearly recognizable. Instead, I opted to use learning about happiness. What is happiness and where is it found? Is there a difference between happiness and contentment? There have been times in my life when I assumed that some thing or some event would make me happy. But to my surprise, that thing or event really did not. Other times I have assumed the opposite: that this career choice or location to live would really make me miserable, but I was also surprised to find that I ended up being happy. So I suppose the purpose of taking the time to sit at my computer, log on to my blog, and write is to share my life experiences, thoughts, and questions in an effort to learn about happiness and maybe gain some perspective.
To start, this little lady without a doubt can al
ways make me happy.
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