I started thinking and planning my blog entry in my head tonight while driving home and several ideas presented themselves at once. Somehow the chain of illogical reasoning took me from several words I wanted to look up in my friend Websters to the literary and verbal tics that I employ/suffer. I have a fondness for writing the word 'particularly.' It is never particularly improperly used, is often particularly relevant, but is also decidedly unnecessary. One of my college professors pointed out how often it appeared in an essay I wrote and I think removing them all not only didn't change the flow or understanding of the paper in any negative way, it made the paper more understandable and even brought the paper down a page.
My verbal tics are many, but the one I'm really struggling with now is : do you know what I mean? E pointed it out to me and I can not only not stop saying, but I'm conscious of it now and have now begun a whole chain of toc's to follow that tic. Do you know what I mean? Damn, I said it again. Did you hear me say it again? I can't believe I said it again. I'm really going to try not to say that anymore, because it's really annoying....Do you know what I mean?
I don't know (what I mean) if it was worth getting pointed out or not, because now I'm just as aware, but seemingly unable to stop myself.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Personal Issues
I worry about...something...related to who I am. I'm not sure exactly what it is, because it's not exactly about acceptance, but more like lack of compatibility and my own lack of flexibility. In reading about myself as a Dragon, I found confirmation that I really am pretty rigid and think pretty highly of myself. I joke with E that I'm never wrong and that it's always my way or the highway, but to some extent, it's true. I don't roll with the punches as easily as others - I'm not as adaptable. I was trying to say something about this to A the other day and all I could say is that if we argued about that thing, that I would always be right...
[Never finished this thought or line of thinking, but I think this issue is improving. It's all a part of boundaries and the ability to make them without becoming rigid.]
[Never finished this thought or line of thinking, but I think this issue is improving. It's all a part of boundaries and the ability to make them without becoming rigid.]
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Burning the Candle at Both Ends
I never thought, in a million years, that someone (besides my mother) would tell me I'm not eating enough. And I also never thought I would believe it, but now I do.
I just got over being sick. I ended up taking two days off work, staying in bed for three. On the fourth day, I felt a little bit better, so I started packing and moving and returned to work. This is day five and I packed and moved two truck loads and worked another shift today. My boss told me yesterday that I wasn't eating enough and that my body needs more fuel to deal with the illness, the stress of moving and working. He asked me to list what I had eaten yesterday and I could barely remember, but it wasn't that much. I scoffed at that, because who can trust a man telling me that I shouldn't be drinking plain water, but that even sugar water would be better for me right now. I'm still not buying that one - sugar water is not good for anyone anytime - but I do believe he may be onto something about not eating enough.
When I went to work today, I got shaky when my lunch break was 15 minutes overdue, so I bought more food than I really needed and ate it with more haste than was wise. Maybe I'm not eating enough to sustain this work load...but maybe more important than eating more is working less. Maybe I'm doing too much. I feel much better today than yesterday and 10x better today than the day before, but I can feel that I need more sleep and restful time. In the middle of the moving work today, I stopped and swam with friends. My moving partner seemed a little frustrated that I suggested a break in the afternoon until I reminded her that I was working the evening shift after a full day of moving that started with her 7am wake up call. That swim helped me feel refreshed, but the swimming and pool side chat only lasted 30 minutes.
There is no help for working hard tomorrow since the movers are coming on Friday, but after the movers on Friday, I need to shift my focus and start getting some rest. No more of this hectic, frenetic moving around. I promise myself that this Friday thru Sunday, I will sleep 8 hours each night, walk the dog around the ponds at my new place, take a swim in the pool and lay around my condo for at least an hour with a good book. If I'm not completely unpacked and moved in within a weekend, who cares? And, frankly, who's going to notice?
I just got over being sick. I ended up taking two days off work, staying in bed for three. On the fourth day, I felt a little bit better, so I started packing and moving and returned to work. This is day five and I packed and moved two truck loads and worked another shift today. My boss told me yesterday that I wasn't eating enough and that my body needs more fuel to deal with the illness, the stress of moving and working. He asked me to list what I had eaten yesterday and I could barely remember, but it wasn't that much. I scoffed at that, because who can trust a man telling me that I shouldn't be drinking plain water, but that even sugar water would be better for me right now. I'm still not buying that one - sugar water is not good for anyone anytime - but I do believe he may be onto something about not eating enough.
When I went to work today, I got shaky when my lunch break was 15 minutes overdue, so I bought more food than I really needed and ate it with more haste than was wise. Maybe I'm not eating enough to sustain this work load...but maybe more important than eating more is working less. Maybe I'm doing too much. I feel much better today than yesterday and 10x better today than the day before, but I can feel that I need more sleep and restful time. In the middle of the moving work today, I stopped and swam with friends. My moving partner seemed a little frustrated that I suggested a break in the afternoon until I reminded her that I was working the evening shift after a full day of moving that started with her 7am wake up call. That swim helped me feel refreshed, but the swimming and pool side chat only lasted 30 minutes.
There is no help for working hard tomorrow since the movers are coming on Friday, but after the movers on Friday, I need to shift my focus and start getting some rest. No more of this hectic, frenetic moving around. I promise myself that this Friday thru Sunday, I will sleep 8 hours each night, walk the dog around the ponds at my new place, take a swim in the pool and lay around my condo for at least an hour with a good book. If I'm not completely unpacked and moved in within a weekend, who cares? And, frankly, who's going to notice?
Sunday, August 26, 2007
On Being Sick
I'm sick. Sore throat, enlarged tonsils, low back pain, exploding headache and general malaise. Whenever I get sick, I turn into this miserable sniveling mess and generally think I'm going to die. I suppose I could die, but I doubt that even if it is strep throat or meningitis that I'll die from it. Eventually I would lose consciousness, be taken to the hospital, get a proper diagnosis and be treated with way too strong medicine.
Whenever I get sick, I always think about going to the hospital. Or a medical doctor, but usually I think of Urgent Care. Since I know what I would do as a naturopath and have access to acupuncture at home, it feels weird to go to these doctors when I'm feeling ill. I should go to acupuncture tomorrow and get herbs, though.
Lucky for me, I have A and E to help out today. I have never felt so cared for and this is reflected in my feeling significantly better this evening. My throat is still swollen and sore, my ears still have a lot of pressure and my back still hurts, but the headache is subsiding, my fever broke and I had enough energy to ask for the dinner I'm craving (spicy green curry soup) and pick up my room while A took the dog out.
I hate being sick. It makes me half hysterical and half needy...and all too human.
Whenever I get sick, I always think about going to the hospital. Or a medical doctor, but usually I think of Urgent Care. Since I know what I would do as a naturopath and have access to acupuncture at home, it feels weird to go to these doctors when I'm feeling ill. I should go to acupuncture tomorrow and get herbs, though.
Lucky for me, I have A and E to help out today. I have never felt so cared for and this is reflected in my feeling significantly better this evening. My throat is still swollen and sore, my ears still have a lot of pressure and my back still hurts, but the headache is subsiding, my fever broke and I had enough energy to ask for the dinner I'm craving (spicy green curry soup) and pick up my room while A took the dog out.
I hate being sick. It makes me half hysterical and half needy...and all too human.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Ask Me No Questions and I'll Tell You No Lies
I'm thinking about lying to my mother. I imagine most people have lied to their parents at some point or another and I'm no exception, but this is different. This isn't an innocent "I'm going to the mall with my girlfriends" when I'm actually meeting a boy kind of lie. The lie I'm considering has meaning, connection, guilt and ulterior motives. It might even be an ugly lie.
I told a friend of mine that I was considering telling my mom this lie and she helped me come up with a great justification. Since the lie starts with the phrase "I dreamed..." and most dreams are unconscious, I may actually have dreamt it. Maybe what I dreamed only revisited my consciousness later and is actually a memory rather than an idea. That resonates with me because I find the boundary so unclear between memories, ideas, daydreams, dreams and everyday reality.
My mom doesn't take very good care of herself. She lives 3,000 miles away from me and caretakes for the remainder of the family there, including 3 (relatively) able bodied young men, their 5-6 miscellaneous children, a random woman friend who lived with us in my youth and lives with us again, my grandmother and to a lesser extent her brother, sister and extended family. She takes pretty good care of them, even though she has a chronic cough, intense physical pain, emotional grief and needs to rest.
I have spoken to her often about her need to rest, to recovery, to take some time for herself. I appreciate that she's helpful to the people around her, but I feel that it has become a parasitic relationship and in her less guarded moments, she agrees with me. So I've considered telling her that her dead husband (my father) came to me in a dream telling me to move her to my locality and take care of her. I don't know if she'll listen to this any more than she listens to me in any other way, but this is the most powerful phrasing in my family culture since 1/6/06: dad would have wanted.
It's unfair, probably hurtful and possibly unlikely to achieve results since she has built herself into a hole with grandma, my brother and her house guest living in the house she was supposed to sell this summer, but just maybe... I probably won't do it. Lying is wrong, after all. But I want better for my mom. I want her to have a better life. I want her to last long enough so that I can take care of her. I'm afraid she's going to burn her candle out taking care of other people. I'm afraid she'll never be able to live long enough or near enough to babysit my fat brown babies or teach them to sneak buckeyes out of the fridge when mom's not looking or rock my daughter the first time some boy breaks her heart.
It seems like this is what dictatorship is - determining what is best for someone else without their consent, but if it will help me keep my mom around in a healthy and happy state, I'll use whatever tools are at my disposal, including lies, but who knows? Maybe it was really a memory or a dream and not just an idea.
I told a friend of mine that I was considering telling my mom this lie and she helped me come up with a great justification. Since the lie starts with the phrase "I dreamed..." and most dreams are unconscious, I may actually have dreamt it. Maybe what I dreamed only revisited my consciousness later and is actually a memory rather than an idea. That resonates with me because I find the boundary so unclear between memories, ideas, daydreams, dreams and everyday reality.
My mom doesn't take very good care of herself. She lives 3,000 miles away from me and caretakes for the remainder of the family there, including 3 (relatively) able bodied young men, their 5-6 miscellaneous children, a random woman friend who lived with us in my youth and lives with us again, my grandmother and to a lesser extent her brother, sister and extended family. She takes pretty good care of them, even though she has a chronic cough, intense physical pain, emotional grief and needs to rest.
I have spoken to her often about her need to rest, to recovery, to take some time for herself. I appreciate that she's helpful to the people around her, but I feel that it has become a parasitic relationship and in her less guarded moments, she agrees with me. So I've considered telling her that her dead husband (my father) came to me in a dream telling me to move her to my locality and take care of her. I don't know if she'll listen to this any more than she listens to me in any other way, but this is the most powerful phrasing in my family culture since 1/6/06: dad would have wanted.
It's unfair, probably hurtful and possibly unlikely to achieve results since she has built herself into a hole with grandma, my brother and her house guest living in the house she was supposed to sell this summer, but just maybe... I probably won't do it. Lying is wrong, after all. But I want better for my mom. I want her to have a better life. I want her to last long enough so that I can take care of her. I'm afraid she's going to burn her candle out taking care of other people. I'm afraid she'll never be able to live long enough or near enough to babysit my fat brown babies or teach them to sneak buckeyes out of the fridge when mom's not looking or rock my daughter the first time some boy breaks her heart.
It seems like this is what dictatorship is - determining what is best for someone else without their consent, but if it will help me keep my mom around in a healthy and happy state, I'll use whatever tools are at my disposal, including lies, but who knows? Maybe it was really a memory or a dream and not just an idea.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
The Meaning of Secrets
I couldn't think of the term double standard, so I almost couldn't write about secrets until I remembered that term. Word-memory problem, but I've got it now - double standard. That's what I have about secrets. For me, I love secrets as the guardians of my privacy. It's not even that they or I am guarding anything particularly worthy of a secret, but the very act of having information that no one else has. It's strange to me sometimes when people who are close to me don't want to know my secrets, don't want to get closer, but at the same time I'm not a very good defender of my own secrets, so I don't really want to be asked anyways.
The double standard is this: I HATE other people's secrets. I can't stand it. I get suspicious and paranoid. I assume that every mis-statement, omission or hesitation is reflective of a grander scheme to somehow make me look of feel like as ass. It's probably because of how I was raised - I'm sure that JR would say so, at any rate, always finding fresh fodder in family-of-origin. Certain things were just kept as secrets among the family - other things were certainly meant to be secret from the children, the girl children or specifically just me, but were covertly shared or overheard.
I wonder how much of that was intentional secrecy, protection or ignorance instead of the spite I considered it. I do consider it spiteful for people to have secrets against me. Getting to know people deeply has become difficult, because I don't dare ask people personal questions they might not answer - if they don't answer, they have a secret and what does that say about me?
I'm rambling about secrets. Basically, I need to remember the four agreements again and that it isn't all about me. Another way to phrase that, in the words of Jerry Seinfeld, "What are men thinking about? Nothing." What is anybody thinking about? Usually not me and that's probably a good thing.
The double standard is this: I HATE other people's secrets. I can't stand it. I get suspicious and paranoid. I assume that every mis-statement, omission or hesitation is reflective of a grander scheme to somehow make me look of feel like as ass. It's probably because of how I was raised - I'm sure that JR would say so, at any rate, always finding fresh fodder in family-of-origin. Certain things were just kept as secrets among the family - other things were certainly meant to be secret from the children, the girl children or specifically just me, but were covertly shared or overheard.
I wonder how much of that was intentional secrecy, protection or ignorance instead of the spite I considered it. I do consider it spiteful for people to have secrets against me. Getting to know people deeply has become difficult, because I don't dare ask people personal questions they might not answer - if they don't answer, they have a secret and what does that say about me?
I'm rambling about secrets. Basically, I need to remember the four agreements again and that it isn't all about me. Another way to phrase that, in the words of Jerry Seinfeld, "What are men thinking about? Nothing." What is anybody thinking about? Usually not me and that's probably a good thing.
Personal Growth: Thoughts on Maturity
Long talk on maturity last night in the wee hours. As a certifiable age-snob with a preference for those older than me, maturity as a concept, is something I think I've got a pretty good hold on, but let's see how close I could come to Websters - I'm guess it uses the term "age-appropriate" in the definition. Websters says:
Maturity:
1 : the quality or state of being mature; especially : full development
2 : termination of the period that an obligation has to run
Mature:
1 : based on slow careful consideration
2 a (1) : having completed natural growth and development : RIPE
(2) : having undergone maturation
b : having attained a final or desired state
c : having achieved a low but stable growth rate
d : of, relating to, or being an older adult : ELDERLY
3 a : of or relating to a condition of full development
b : characteristic of or suitable to a mature individual
Wow, this was not what I expected. Maturity as a concept seems to be more about having reached "full development" but I wonder how this relates to full potential. The definition "having attained a final or desired state" might suggest that meeting one's full potential would be the end of maturing, but I wonder, "desired by whom?" There are people who do not desire any further growth, probably think they are mature and in whom I see a lot more potential. In last nights conversation about maturity, my friend queried, "Is there a point in one's years when a person reaches a level of maturity and stays there?" Well, per Webster, we may be erroneous in thinking of levels of maturity - fruit and wine are either mature/ripe/ready or not. I don't even ask if people are that way, because as a feminist/relativist thinker, of course I consider there to be a scale and I think the issue is just one of semantics.
Personal learning and growth is one of my core values, so I'm constantly seeking the way to growth. I almost wrote "better myself" but I realize that doesn't really express it and self-betterment also carries with it a tinge of the idea that I might possibly know what is better for myself. There is also an idea with self-betterment that things may also be better, cleaner, prettier or somehow more positive, whereas with growth, I think sometimes things get messier, at least at first. For example, when I started learning to communicate my feelings of anger, I often overshot my goal, said it wrong or whatnot, so my life actually got messier for a time. In the end, I do think we are "better" for having grown, but I guess part of the learning I've accomplished in my growth has been that I'm perfect right now and doing the best I can with what I have available. Given that, I can't possibly be better.
Okay, enough psychobabble. Is maturing a process that ends? My opinion: for some people, yes - for some, no. Alcoholics (and likely other addicts), for example, get stunted in their emotional growth and often retain the maturity of a teenager. Psychologists say that they can resume their growth when they attain sobriety, but I have not always seen that they do - I think the possibility is there, but it requires a personal dedication. I don't think that is exclusive to addicts, either - I think beyond our growing years, there may be a tendency to stagnate if we aren't feeding ourselves the right mental/emotional/spiritual food for growth. That food is what keeps us growing/changing/maturing. What is it? Probably varies for everyone - for me, it includes an exploration of the dao, personal journey into spiritual realms, working with a therapist and lots of exposure to and exploration of the meaning of words.
To continue along that track, I also think that kids and teenagers need a lot of exposure while they are in their growing years to these foods, whatever they may be for them - since we can't possibly know, it would behoove us to expose them to LOTS of different models. This is the same way I feel about their physical health - if kids don't eat dirt and get exposed to germs, they never develop a proper immune system; if they (and we) don't eat lots of different foods, we never develop a wide palate and/or get the nutrition we need! It's really one and the same desire to have a wide array of experience - even if we then choose to walk a more narrow road, at least it was choice and not something that was foisted upon us due to the limits of our exposure.
For my part, as someone who has used and accepted the label "mature" since I was about 11, I now rescind that label based on Websters definition. I hope the day I wake up mature is my last on this planet - I'd love to look on this earth with mature eyes for just a day before ascending to nirvana.
Maturity:
1 : the quality or state of being mature; especially : full development
2 : termination of the period that an obligation has to run
Mature:
1 : based on slow careful consideration
2 a (1) : having completed natural growth and development : RIPE
(2) : having undergone maturation
b : having attained a final or desired state
c : having achieved a low but stable growth rate
d : of, relating to, or being an older adult : ELDERLY
3 a : of or relating to a condition of full development
b : characteristic of or suitable to a mature individual
Wow, this was not what I expected. Maturity as a concept seems to be more about having reached "full development" but I wonder how this relates to full potential. The definition "having attained a final or desired state" might suggest that meeting one's full potential would be the end of maturing, but I wonder, "desired by whom?" There are people who do not desire any further growth, probably think they are mature and in whom I see a lot more potential. In last nights conversation about maturity, my friend queried, "Is there a point in one's years when a person reaches a level of maturity and stays there?" Well, per Webster, we may be erroneous in thinking of levels of maturity - fruit and wine are either mature/ripe/ready or not. I don't even ask if people are that way, because as a feminist/relativist thinker, of course I consider there to be a scale and I think the issue is just one of semantics.
Personal learning and growth is one of my core values, so I'm constantly seeking the way to growth. I almost wrote "better myself" but I realize that doesn't really express it and self-betterment also carries with it a tinge of the idea that I might possibly know what is better for myself. There is also an idea with self-betterment that things may also be better, cleaner, prettier or somehow more positive, whereas with growth, I think sometimes things get messier, at least at first. For example, when I started learning to communicate my feelings of anger, I often overshot my goal, said it wrong or whatnot, so my life actually got messier for a time. In the end, I do think we are "better" for having grown, but I guess part of the learning I've accomplished in my growth has been that I'm perfect right now and doing the best I can with what I have available. Given that, I can't possibly be better.
Okay, enough psychobabble. Is maturing a process that ends? My opinion: for some people, yes - for some, no. Alcoholics (and likely other addicts), for example, get stunted in their emotional growth and often retain the maturity of a teenager. Psychologists say that they can resume their growth when they attain sobriety, but I have not always seen that they do - I think the possibility is there, but it requires a personal dedication. I don't think that is exclusive to addicts, either - I think beyond our growing years, there may be a tendency to stagnate if we aren't feeding ourselves the right mental/emotional/spiritual food for growth. That food is what keeps us growing/changing/maturing. What is it? Probably varies for everyone - for me, it includes an exploration of the dao, personal journey into spiritual realms, working with a therapist and lots of exposure to and exploration of the meaning of words.
To continue along that track, I also think that kids and teenagers need a lot of exposure while they are in their growing years to these foods, whatever they may be for them - since we can't possibly know, it would behoove us to expose them to LOTS of different models. This is the same way I feel about their physical health - if kids don't eat dirt and get exposed to germs, they never develop a proper immune system; if they (and we) don't eat lots of different foods, we never develop a wide palate and/or get the nutrition we need! It's really one and the same desire to have a wide array of experience - even if we then choose to walk a more narrow road, at least it was choice and not something that was foisted upon us due to the limits of our exposure.
For my part, as someone who has used and accepted the label "mature" since I was about 11, I now rescind that label based on Websters definition. I hope the day I wake up mature is my last on this planet - I'd love to look on this earth with mature eyes for just a day before ascending to nirvana.
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