"Let no one come to you without leaving better and happier."
~ Mother Teresa
Monday, 31 January 2011
Saturday, 29 January 2011
Be Careful...Or You May Become Infamous...
On Twitter this week, I came across the best quote for dealing with difficult people, especially as a writer:
"I'm a novelist. Anything you say can be taken down & used against you in a work of fiction."
~ Ann R. Allen
I love it! I'm going to add it to the list of my fav quotes of all time, I think ;-D And then, maybe, I'll just start using it in real life, too!
What's even better is that, as a blogger, all I have to do is crack opne my laptop, tap away at a few keys and whoever gave me a bad day is forever immortalized - online, too!
Today's victim: the mother who sat beside me in the cafe. Now, to give her credit, there was no way she should have known that I am actually also an employee there. Perhaps, though, somebody somewhere along the line should tell her that she is having difficulty with the service indutry because she comes across as a fairly nasty woman. She had to say two sentences by the time I realized she was an HM Mommy, sans the lululemons and running carriage. Perhaps she's the HM Mommy, AB-style!
So, I understand the frustration of going into a cafe and being unable to find a spot to sit. I also understand the dilemna of having to care for another living being and feeling like because you will do this until probably the day you die, you expect other people to care a little bit more for you. Somehow, though, we don't care. We're not your mother. We're not your friend. BUT, WE ARE PEOPLE, too. And maybe if you talked to people in the service industry like their IQs were above 80 rather than the way you talked to them today, you might get better service...
After listening to her loudly proclaim her distaste for the cafe, filled as it was with students, writers, artists and the people who regularly spend $100/week there, she went on to rip apart a restaurant in south Edmonton. From the comments her husband said, I think she more or less has a problem with things south of the river rather than just this location, so I should probably just feel sorry for her. In reality, I feel sorry for her friends who have to listen to her endlessly complain about the smallest things.
Overhearing conversations like that are fabulous methods of birth control for me, 'cause I never want the sole excuse for our getting together to be to vent about a restaurant. Specifically, I don't want to have to tell you that I waited an ENTIRE forty minutes on a FRIDAY at ONE, close to the university. I NEVER want to be that person! Well, and then the conversation turned to their children and their progress, which is probably exciting when you have the babies to compare to one another. I'm excited about meeting up with my close friends and family to hear about things like that, but I don't want to waste our time complaining.
Seriously, restaurants are busier on Fridays more than they are on other days of the week. And, closer to the university, as an intelligent consumer, you should understand that schedules are a little bit more slack and so the lunch rush is more from 1130 to 230 than 12-1 inclusive. And have a little patience with your fellow human beings. Even if it wasn't visibly busy when you walked in, perhaps they were filling orders for call-ins...or, they were recovering from a rush earlier. And, yes, forty minutes is a long time to wait for an order, but maybe you should cook for yourself. Or, wait, was this a treat to yourself? Then why were you going into it with all this nasty attitude? Now, that's probably why you have so much to complain about in life! Change your attitude, change your life...
So, now I've done my venting, and not just to one friend, but potentially to the whole world. The woman will probably never see it, and even assume it's not about her...but at least I got one of these things off my chest. And I feel better about it. You know that waiter who had that book published last year or the year before - wasn't that just a blog about the rude people he served? I haven't read that book, yet, but I wonder if he ever spit in somebody's soup...not that I would ever do that, but I might think twice about it the next time I see that woman in the cafe...no, wait, I'm a writer, I have the potential to do much worse than just give her a taste of my pleasant saliva...
"I'm a novelist. Anything you say can be taken down & used against you in a work of fiction."
~ Ann R. Allen
I love it! I'm going to add it to the list of my fav quotes of all time, I think ;-D And then, maybe, I'll just start using it in real life, too!
What's even better is that, as a blogger, all I have to do is crack opne my laptop, tap away at a few keys and whoever gave me a bad day is forever immortalized - online, too!
Today's victim: the mother who sat beside me in the cafe. Now, to give her credit, there was no way she should have known that I am actually also an employee there. Perhaps, though, somebody somewhere along the line should tell her that she is having difficulty with the service indutry because she comes across as a fairly nasty woman. She had to say two sentences by the time I realized she was an HM Mommy, sans the lululemons and running carriage. Perhaps she's the HM Mommy, AB-style!
So, I understand the frustration of going into a cafe and being unable to find a spot to sit. I also understand the dilemna of having to care for another living being and feeling like because you will do this until probably the day you die, you expect other people to care a little bit more for you. Somehow, though, we don't care. We're not your mother. We're not your friend. BUT, WE ARE PEOPLE, too. And maybe if you talked to people in the service industry like their IQs were above 80 rather than the way you talked to them today, you might get better service...
After listening to her loudly proclaim her distaste for the cafe, filled as it was with students, writers, artists and the people who regularly spend $100/week there, she went on to rip apart a restaurant in south Edmonton. From the comments her husband said, I think she more or less has a problem with things south of the river rather than just this location, so I should probably just feel sorry for her. In reality, I feel sorry for her friends who have to listen to her endlessly complain about the smallest things.
Overhearing conversations like that are fabulous methods of birth control for me, 'cause I never want the sole excuse for our getting together to be to vent about a restaurant. Specifically, I don't want to have to tell you that I waited an ENTIRE forty minutes on a FRIDAY at ONE, close to the university. I NEVER want to be that person! Well, and then the conversation turned to their children and their progress, which is probably exciting when you have the babies to compare to one another. I'm excited about meeting up with my close friends and family to hear about things like that, but I don't want to waste our time complaining.
Seriously, restaurants are busier on Fridays more than they are on other days of the week. And, closer to the university, as an intelligent consumer, you should understand that schedules are a little bit more slack and so the lunch rush is more from 1130 to 230 than 12-1 inclusive. And have a little patience with your fellow human beings. Even if it wasn't visibly busy when you walked in, perhaps they were filling orders for call-ins...or, they were recovering from a rush earlier. And, yes, forty minutes is a long time to wait for an order, but maybe you should cook for yourself. Or, wait, was this a treat to yourself? Then why were you going into it with all this nasty attitude? Now, that's probably why you have so much to complain about in life! Change your attitude, change your life...
So, now I've done my venting, and not just to one friend, but potentially to the whole world. The woman will probably never see it, and even assume it's not about her...but at least I got one of these things off my chest. And I feel better about it. You know that waiter who had that book published last year or the year before - wasn't that just a blog about the rude people he served? I haven't read that book, yet, but I wonder if he ever spit in somebody's soup...not that I would ever do that, but I might think twice about it the next time I see that woman in the cafe...no, wait, I'm a writer, I have the potential to do much worse than just give her a taste of my pleasant saliva...
Friday, 28 January 2011
When Did I Get So Lost?
At what point did I lose myself? When did I become this person I always thought about but never was? And how did she change so rapidly?
I am a pack rat. I blame this on my training as a historian. One should not instantly toss out a remnant of their past, in case people in the future would have value in studying it. Sadly, these things that I keep bring up images of myself I don't always want to remember. Sometimes, I find myself flipping through old materials of my life, impressed with how far I've come. Tonight, I was only surprised.
For the most part, I do love the new me. But, don't let the narcissism fool you. For the most part, that's just a cover - a defence mechanism I developed to protect my fragile ego - for the paddling duck underneath. I've been able to keep the duck calm for awhile, and I'm working at being okay with the duck not moving anywhere when we are this calm. There are things about the new self, though, that I don't like, and I feel like my tools for survival may be hiding those things I used to love.
It's okay, though. I don't have to "find" myself anytime soon. When the time is right, it's right, no? Yes. I just wish I didn't have to wait so long for my life to get going again...
I am a pack rat. I blame this on my training as a historian. One should not instantly toss out a remnant of their past, in case people in the future would have value in studying it. Sadly, these things that I keep bring up images of myself I don't always want to remember. Sometimes, I find myself flipping through old materials of my life, impressed with how far I've come. Tonight, I was only surprised.
For the most part, I do love the new me. But, don't let the narcissism fool you. For the most part, that's just a cover - a defence mechanism I developed to protect my fragile ego - for the paddling duck underneath. I've been able to keep the duck calm for awhile, and I'm working at being okay with the duck not moving anywhere when we are this calm. There are things about the new self, though, that I don't like, and I feel like my tools for survival may be hiding those things I used to love.
It's okay, though. I don't have to "find" myself anytime soon. When the time is right, it's right, no? Yes. I just wish I didn't have to wait so long for my life to get going again...
Thursday, 27 January 2011
The Day of Joda
Today was pretty awesome...and that's not just the wine talking...
It began at 410. Okay, no, 4am, but I hit the snooze button, frequently. Well, not usually on a day that begins with a "T," but that's how we know this day was special. I stumbled into my kitchen, began the single solitary coffee pot, shook some organic cereal into a bowl, topped it off with some organic soy yogurt, realized I REALLY needed to buy groceries today, dumped some agave nectar into my otherwise black coffee (which almost made me cry...yes, I REALLY needed to buy groceries today) and sat down to write my morning pages.
My morning pages are the most cathartic activity I am doing right now. I wake up a half hour early every day just to sit and write out my random thoughts before the day begins. It's creative meditation and it's helping me heal SO MUCH. I don't even think I needed to heal before I started them, but they're allowing me to let go of so much that I needed to put back out there into the universe rather than holding inside of my head. I am in love with the morning pages...almost as much as I am in love with sleep right now...
Sadly, I did not finish the expected three pages before I, terrified of being late, jumped into the shower to get ready for the rest of my day. I cut my hair on Tuesday, and it looks fabulous! But I didn't want to go to work looking like Einstein's beautiful second niece, twice removed (although I do resemble a bit of short-haired Meg Ryan right now...). It was the fastest shower I have had in YEARS! Now, I love long showers, but I'm also trying REALLY hard to not be late anymore...in some areas of life, anyways...
I needn't have worried about it! I made it to the LRT in PLENTY of time, almost beating my usual arrival there of 518. Ten minutes later, the first train arrived....two minutes after that, my train appeared, heading south.
Work was exceptionally BORING this morning. I had a small squabble with a woman who lacks olfactory glands and was putting her unwanted defecations everywhere... Why do I still work in customer service? ... especially in high end markets? Oh, well, what followed was a soothing workout that allowed the world to disappear, and my inner voice to cry out in triumph - I am ROCKING the deltoids this week!
Then, I put my thriftiness together with my staff discount and treated myself to a true coffee, with soy milk, and brown sugar, just cause I had to take the LONGEST bus ride in all of Edmonton. Once I arrived at the first stop, I exitted the bus, looked around and discovered that it was the second bus I needed to catch. After a longer than necessary conversation with the operator of the motor vehicle, I boarded again...and returned to reading my book in the same seat: left side, right behind the door, with one eye kept on the street sign so as not to miss where I am.
After numerous bottles of water, a strong cup of java and WAY TOO LONG on public transit, I arrived at my first final destination of the afternoon. I raced inside, entered a bunch of codes, and made my way promptly to the room primarily used for praying to the porcelain gods and goddesses. It was quite a relief, to say the least...although the feline in the next room was QUITE confused...
I then entered the same codes, grabbed some necessary keys and began my temporary time with wheels. It shall only last a day or two, but those days are FILLED with errands, soul-mending and WAY too much spending! I backed slowly out of the driveway...
Before I knew it, I was home, parking in half-hour parking and hoping to fit in a quick shower after the strenuous day that had already occurred. Afterwards, I grabbed what I thought I might need and headed to a place of serenity...a place I knew well...my old library, filled with the best mags, loud children, and a few comfie chairs. The afternoon was spent there, reading up on how I'm already a pretty awesome individual...
Oh, jingles! I forgot the best parts of the day, so far! Alanis Morisette...
Oh, Alanis, where have you been this week? You were the first song on my iPod this morning - nearly causing a slip on the ice as I surpassed that cute security guard who knows who I am but is too shy to talk to me when he sees me in the morning - ah, younger men...fears of rejection...following the rules...next week I might pinch his bum in the elevator and see where the day takes me...
But, Alanis, yes, Alanis, and angry workout music. Sigh...fab for getting the heart rate up, and fab for belting out to poorly while cruising down Whyte - now that's something you can't do while riding the bus, and something I think we need to take back - improper sing-a-longs to heartbroken anthems. Life should only get so good!
After the library, I stopped at another old haunting ground, without anything more than my tips money, thank goodness! However, it was quite a treat to have the sales lady at Suzy Shier - after telling her to grab me two sizes - tell me I didn't need the larger size. I guess it does really pay to look like Meg Ryan somedays...
I treated myself to some lovely Taco Time mexi-fries and then a Cinnamon Dolce Americano Misto. Divine - except for the burnt tongue. I'm not quite sure which gave me that one...
Then off to that large parking lot, cement floors, and discounted goods in bulk. Hmmm, been a long time since I been there and the food hoarder in me has been panicking. Luckily, I saved her today, and she'll be satiated for the next three to six months, I hope...
The problem with driving in the city is always parking. Whether it's struggling to find something longer than thirty minutes, or struggling to remember where in the parking lot you left the vehicle. Leaving the large building with this look of terror on my face was quite entertaining, if only to catch glimpses of the other shoppers reactions to that face - and them knowing exactly what the fear was about. Why is that parking lot so big? And why do I never remember to draw myself a map with a big ex where the vehicle is on it? These questions will never be answered...
There was a time, less than twelve months ago, when I spent my life in a different neighbourhood. With the wheels under my feet, and enough tunes to get me home, I ventured off into that distant neighbourhood, if only to see how it's changed. I never left the vehicle, but I checked up on a few people I left behind in that life. Separation is always hard, but necessary for any true growth to happen...
I then proceeded to the new neighbourhood I call home, and struggling to find an appropriate parking spot. After ten minutes, I embraced the four-wheel-drive capacity of the wheels under foot and settled in nicely to a melting snowbank on the street. I then took my time running errands, not wanting to return to that mess...
I made it out! Almost without a struggle. Parking by my apartment, on the other hand, was less than delightful. After a half hour of circling the block, getting stuck, and unstuck, and then stuck again, I fear what may be waiting for me in the morning...one thing is for sure, though - I got me some pretty awesome food to eat, and a kitchen counter that needs its dishes washed. Why then am I here, telling you all about my day? 'Cause - as I explained to the greasy Italian who helped me with the elevator - "no, I'm not a student, I just like the lifestyle - less responsibility, less money, more hippy-love crap, etc." So, here is the end of my day in a snapshot!
It began at 410. Okay, no, 4am, but I hit the snooze button, frequently. Well, not usually on a day that begins with a "T," but that's how we know this day was special. I stumbled into my kitchen, began the single solitary coffee pot, shook some organic cereal into a bowl, topped it off with some organic soy yogurt, realized I REALLY needed to buy groceries today, dumped some agave nectar into my otherwise black coffee (which almost made me cry...yes, I REALLY needed to buy groceries today) and sat down to write my morning pages.
My morning pages are the most cathartic activity I am doing right now. I wake up a half hour early every day just to sit and write out my random thoughts before the day begins. It's creative meditation and it's helping me heal SO MUCH. I don't even think I needed to heal before I started them, but they're allowing me to let go of so much that I needed to put back out there into the universe rather than holding inside of my head. I am in love with the morning pages...almost as much as I am in love with sleep right now...
Sadly, I did not finish the expected three pages before I, terrified of being late, jumped into the shower to get ready for the rest of my day. I cut my hair on Tuesday, and it looks fabulous! But I didn't want to go to work looking like Einstein's beautiful second niece, twice removed (although I do resemble a bit of short-haired Meg Ryan right now...). It was the fastest shower I have had in YEARS! Now, I love long showers, but I'm also trying REALLY hard to not be late anymore...in some areas of life, anyways...
I needn't have worried about it! I made it to the LRT in PLENTY of time, almost beating my usual arrival there of 518. Ten minutes later, the first train arrived....two minutes after that, my train appeared, heading south.
Work was exceptionally BORING this morning. I had a small squabble with a woman who lacks olfactory glands and was putting her unwanted defecations everywhere... Why do I still work in customer service? ... especially in high end markets? Oh, well, what followed was a soothing workout that allowed the world to disappear, and my inner voice to cry out in triumph - I am ROCKING the deltoids this week!
Then, I put my thriftiness together with my staff discount and treated myself to a true coffee, with soy milk, and brown sugar, just cause I had to take the LONGEST bus ride in all of Edmonton. Once I arrived at the first stop, I exitted the bus, looked around and discovered that it was the second bus I needed to catch. After a longer than necessary conversation with the operator of the motor vehicle, I boarded again...and returned to reading my book in the same seat: left side, right behind the door, with one eye kept on the street sign so as not to miss where I am.
After numerous bottles of water, a strong cup of java and WAY TOO LONG on public transit, I arrived at my first final destination of the afternoon. I raced inside, entered a bunch of codes, and made my way promptly to the room primarily used for praying to the porcelain gods and goddesses. It was quite a relief, to say the least...although the feline in the next room was QUITE confused...
I then entered the same codes, grabbed some necessary keys and began my temporary time with wheels. It shall only last a day or two, but those days are FILLED with errands, soul-mending and WAY too much spending! I backed slowly out of the driveway...
Before I knew it, I was home, parking in half-hour parking and hoping to fit in a quick shower after the strenuous day that had already occurred. Afterwards, I grabbed what I thought I might need and headed to a place of serenity...a place I knew well...my old library, filled with the best mags, loud children, and a few comfie chairs. The afternoon was spent there, reading up on how I'm already a pretty awesome individual...
Oh, jingles! I forgot the best parts of the day, so far! Alanis Morisette...
Oh, Alanis, where have you been this week? You were the first song on my iPod this morning - nearly causing a slip on the ice as I surpassed that cute security guard who knows who I am but is too shy to talk to me when he sees me in the morning - ah, younger men...fears of rejection...following the rules...next week I might pinch his bum in the elevator and see where the day takes me...
But, Alanis, yes, Alanis, and angry workout music. Sigh...fab for getting the heart rate up, and fab for belting out to poorly while cruising down Whyte - now that's something you can't do while riding the bus, and something I think we need to take back - improper sing-a-longs to heartbroken anthems. Life should only get so good!
After the library, I stopped at another old haunting ground, without anything more than my tips money, thank goodness! However, it was quite a treat to have the sales lady at Suzy Shier - after telling her to grab me two sizes - tell me I didn't need the larger size. I guess it does really pay to look like Meg Ryan somedays...
I treated myself to some lovely Taco Time mexi-fries and then a Cinnamon Dolce Americano Misto. Divine - except for the burnt tongue. I'm not quite sure which gave me that one...
Then off to that large parking lot, cement floors, and discounted goods in bulk. Hmmm, been a long time since I been there and the food hoarder in me has been panicking. Luckily, I saved her today, and she'll be satiated for the next three to six months, I hope...
The problem with driving in the city is always parking. Whether it's struggling to find something longer than thirty minutes, or struggling to remember where in the parking lot you left the vehicle. Leaving the large building with this look of terror on my face was quite entertaining, if only to catch glimpses of the other shoppers reactions to that face - and them knowing exactly what the fear was about. Why is that parking lot so big? And why do I never remember to draw myself a map with a big ex where the vehicle is on it? These questions will never be answered...
There was a time, less than twelve months ago, when I spent my life in a different neighbourhood. With the wheels under my feet, and enough tunes to get me home, I ventured off into that distant neighbourhood, if only to see how it's changed. I never left the vehicle, but I checked up on a few people I left behind in that life. Separation is always hard, but necessary for any true growth to happen...
I then proceeded to the new neighbourhood I call home, and struggling to find an appropriate parking spot. After ten minutes, I embraced the four-wheel-drive capacity of the wheels under foot and settled in nicely to a melting snowbank on the street. I then took my time running errands, not wanting to return to that mess...
I made it out! Almost without a struggle. Parking by my apartment, on the other hand, was less than delightful. After a half hour of circling the block, getting stuck, and unstuck, and then stuck again, I fear what may be waiting for me in the morning...one thing is for sure, though - I got me some pretty awesome food to eat, and a kitchen counter that needs its dishes washed. Why then am I here, telling you all about my day? 'Cause - as I explained to the greasy Italian who helped me with the elevator - "no, I'm not a student, I just like the lifestyle - less responsibility, less money, more hippy-love crap, etc." So, here is the end of my day in a snapshot!
Wednesday, 26 January 2011
Soul Mates, Fate, and Breaking The Tie
Big deal. So you fell in love with someone. Don't you see what happened? This guy touched a place in your heart deeper than you thought you were capable of reaching. I mean you got zapped, kiddo. But that love you felt, that's just the beginning. You just got a taste of love. Wait til you see how much more deeply you can love than that. Heck, Groceries - you have the capacity to someday love the whole world. It's your destiny. Don't laugh."
"...I think the reason it's so hard for me to get over this guy is because I seriously believed David was my soul mate."
"He probably was. Your problem is you don't understand what that word means. People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that's what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that's holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life. A true soul mate is probably the most important person you'll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then they leave. And thank God for it. ..."
~ Elizabeth Gilbert in Eat, Pray Love
Within the first passage, I was hooked. Who was this woman with such a familiar voice? Her story wasn't mine, but it was like reading my own work, my own insight into life. (So modest of myself, I know, to compare my inner writing voice to that of an American autobio bestseller. Ah, well, if I've learned anything this year it's that confidence oversells modesty everyday.) And so it was that I have been reading Eat, Pray, Love religiously every night for the last two weeks. I've been cherishing it like I haven't cherished a book in years...
As a young reader, it would be nothing for me to be hooked on a book like this. I read everything like it was speaking directly to me. Since I read so much, I was an above average writer for my years, and so it began - this dream to be a writer, professionally. Somehow, though, I'm only beginning to hit that path at anything more than a strolling pace. Why was I so sluggish before? Gaining life experience? Trying to make money? Paying off debt? Not believing in myself? Terrified of the rejection to come before the success? Terrified of the pressure of success?
My life has happened this way for a reason. I may not know, in the moment or even a week from the moment, why something unfolds the way it does, but I trust that it is happening exactly as it should...
This summer, I fell in love. These were never words I shared with him, nor words - based on how he left things, and the feelings I have for him now - he ever needs to hear from me. Why is it that I fall so quickly for not just this last guy, but every guy in my past? I used to think it was because I was searching so desperately for love that I would pass it on to whoever might possibly be interested. Was that the lesson I was meant to learn? Yes, from the men before...but this one has sent me on a path of self-discovery so profound that I know there was more to it than that simple (yet very difficult) lesson I see so many women struggle their whole lives to realize.
My last grandparent died this summer. As I've mentioned before, the employer I had at the time did not handle it AT ALL well. But this was not a negative thing. My grandmother had suffered from frontal lobe dimentia for years, and I look at her passing as a release from the torture of her disease, rather than the loss of a loved one. She is with us more now than she has been for years.
I do not have a traditional understanding of religion. I cannot honestly tell you that I believe one solitary power looks after us all and has a plan for everything that happens. My understanding of what some people may call God is much more elaborate than that. In the past, I have explained my God as the first grandparent who passed away, my maternal grandmother. When I have come across a stroke of luck, or been saved from imminent danger, I have told myself and those close to me that it was my "Guardian Angel," my grandmother, who gave me so many things to be thankful for.
With the passing of my paternal grandmother, I now have two Guardian Angels looking down on me. They come from two different upbringings, but both had so much love in their hearts, that their duties as Guardian Angels are easily split between all of their offspring. In this time - on one of my most ardent spiritual journeys - I feel so blessed to have both of them for company. Janet's quilt is kept close, and Marjorie's words fill my head on the days I need them the most. They are both the role models I need now.
A month and a half after her death, Janet sent a helper my way. He may have been a soul mate, as Gilbert has described it above. He told me to do nothing of the decisions I was making with my life, which was best. Yes, I am adamant in this fact, if only because I had that part criticized most by the people who love me so much and watched me, terrified, through all of these changes. I rejected any actual advice he ever provided me as arrogant prattle coming from a trainer's mouth. Every decision I made to change my life at that time came from inside. I took the energy I got get from him and worked with it to inspire a life plan - or lack thereof - that I had dreamed of for years. And I'm living that life now. And isn't it great? I love the moment I am in now. He was, as my dear friend described him, a catalyst for the changes that needed to be made.
He was passionate; he loved life; I brought great joy into his; he gave me a list of reasons to love myself more with; and then he left. To be fair, I had left first, but his leave was more permanent. There was no "goodbye;" there was no guidance on how we could make this work; there was no effort on his part to actual try to make it work...
I thought I had failed. I thought it was all my fault. I believed all those dating books I had ever read and figured I had pushed too much, or exposed my feelings too quickly, or scared him away with the pressure of being exactly who I am... But that's a load of bullocks! He was the one who talked about the "future." He brought up the fact that his grandparents were married three weeks after they met one another. He even admitted to thinking about me all day when we barely knew one another. I had this feeling that he would be in my life for a few months, and this talk terrified me a bit...as did me feelings...
He is in my life for only a few months. This is it. Tonight I cut all ties to him - figuratively and mentally. (This weekend, I came across a video on meditation that I will follow through with tonight. I'll include the link to it in this post, in case any readers need to get rid of bad energy as well. ) Tonight I confirmed that he has moved on - engaged to somebody again, already - and thinks of me as nothing more than a pearl on the "string of women" he once described the people he had dated. It was fun. It was crazy. It was passion. And he was a good person. Sadly, we share too much of the same music as favourites. Time and experience, though, have taught me that that's all he is. I'll hear Buble's hit from last summer and now always think of him...and cry, maybe, but that's ok. Why stay stuck in the past if it only makes you cry out in pain? I'll change my iPod instead...
Marjorie took him away. The day he told me of his "great opportunity," I knew we needed to slow things down. I knew I needed to regain some sense of myself. Marj saw this, too, and she gave me an out. It would have been worse if it had lasted longer. These things always are. If it had piddled out and died from over-watering, I would have wasted more time in recovery, I'm sure. As it is, I feel I've spent too long in this place. I've wasted my energy mourning something that I've been bigger than this entire time. Waiting to get the closure from him that would have meant something more than the silence I heard over the phone, I know it doesn't work that way. It was over the moment I got that call on the lrt. The moment I made the choice to be myself - spending time with my BFF instead - was the moment Marjorie began to cut the cord. Now it's my turn to finish snipping...
He was "a mirror, the person who shows you everything that's holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life. ...probably the most important person you'll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful..."
The link to the vlog on cord-cutting:
http://gabbyb.tv/vlogging/vlog-cord-cutting
"...I think the reason it's so hard for me to get over this guy is because I seriously believed David was my soul mate."
"He probably was. Your problem is you don't understand what that word means. People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that's what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that's holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life. A true soul mate is probably the most important person you'll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then they leave. And thank God for it. ..."
~ Elizabeth Gilbert in Eat, Pray Love
Within the first passage, I was hooked. Who was this woman with such a familiar voice? Her story wasn't mine, but it was like reading my own work, my own insight into life. (So modest of myself, I know, to compare my inner writing voice to that of an American autobio bestseller. Ah, well, if I've learned anything this year it's that confidence oversells modesty everyday.) And so it was that I have been reading Eat, Pray, Love religiously every night for the last two weeks. I've been cherishing it like I haven't cherished a book in years...
As a young reader, it would be nothing for me to be hooked on a book like this. I read everything like it was speaking directly to me. Since I read so much, I was an above average writer for my years, and so it began - this dream to be a writer, professionally. Somehow, though, I'm only beginning to hit that path at anything more than a strolling pace. Why was I so sluggish before? Gaining life experience? Trying to make money? Paying off debt? Not believing in myself? Terrified of the rejection to come before the success? Terrified of the pressure of success?
My life has happened this way for a reason. I may not know, in the moment or even a week from the moment, why something unfolds the way it does, but I trust that it is happening exactly as it should...
This summer, I fell in love. These were never words I shared with him, nor words - based on how he left things, and the feelings I have for him now - he ever needs to hear from me. Why is it that I fall so quickly for not just this last guy, but every guy in my past? I used to think it was because I was searching so desperately for love that I would pass it on to whoever might possibly be interested. Was that the lesson I was meant to learn? Yes, from the men before...but this one has sent me on a path of self-discovery so profound that I know there was more to it than that simple (yet very difficult) lesson I see so many women struggle their whole lives to realize.
My last grandparent died this summer. As I've mentioned before, the employer I had at the time did not handle it AT ALL well. But this was not a negative thing. My grandmother had suffered from frontal lobe dimentia for years, and I look at her passing as a release from the torture of her disease, rather than the loss of a loved one. She is with us more now than she has been for years.
I do not have a traditional understanding of religion. I cannot honestly tell you that I believe one solitary power looks after us all and has a plan for everything that happens. My understanding of what some people may call God is much more elaborate than that. In the past, I have explained my God as the first grandparent who passed away, my maternal grandmother. When I have come across a stroke of luck, or been saved from imminent danger, I have told myself and those close to me that it was my "Guardian Angel," my grandmother, who gave me so many things to be thankful for.
With the passing of my paternal grandmother, I now have two Guardian Angels looking down on me. They come from two different upbringings, but both had so much love in their hearts, that their duties as Guardian Angels are easily split between all of their offspring. In this time - on one of my most ardent spiritual journeys - I feel so blessed to have both of them for company. Janet's quilt is kept close, and Marjorie's words fill my head on the days I need them the most. They are both the role models I need now.
A month and a half after her death, Janet sent a helper my way. He may have been a soul mate, as Gilbert has described it above. He told me to do nothing of the decisions I was making with my life, which was best. Yes, I am adamant in this fact, if only because I had that part criticized most by the people who love me so much and watched me, terrified, through all of these changes. I rejected any actual advice he ever provided me as arrogant prattle coming from a trainer's mouth. Every decision I made to change my life at that time came from inside. I took the energy I got get from him and worked with it to inspire a life plan - or lack thereof - that I had dreamed of for years. And I'm living that life now. And isn't it great? I love the moment I am in now. He was, as my dear friend described him, a catalyst for the changes that needed to be made.
He was passionate; he loved life; I brought great joy into his; he gave me a list of reasons to love myself more with; and then he left. To be fair, I had left first, but his leave was more permanent. There was no "goodbye;" there was no guidance on how we could make this work; there was no effort on his part to actual try to make it work...
I thought I had failed. I thought it was all my fault. I believed all those dating books I had ever read and figured I had pushed too much, or exposed my feelings too quickly, or scared him away with the pressure of being exactly who I am... But that's a load of bullocks! He was the one who talked about the "future." He brought up the fact that his grandparents were married three weeks after they met one another. He even admitted to thinking about me all day when we barely knew one another. I had this feeling that he would be in my life for a few months, and this talk terrified me a bit...as did me feelings...
He is in my life for only a few months. This is it. Tonight I cut all ties to him - figuratively and mentally. (This weekend, I came across a video on meditation that I will follow through with tonight. I'll include the link to it in this post, in case any readers need to get rid of bad energy as well. ) Tonight I confirmed that he has moved on - engaged to somebody again, already - and thinks of me as nothing more than a pearl on the "string of women" he once described the people he had dated. It was fun. It was crazy. It was passion. And he was a good person. Sadly, we share too much of the same music as favourites. Time and experience, though, have taught me that that's all he is. I'll hear Buble's hit from last summer and now always think of him...and cry, maybe, but that's ok. Why stay stuck in the past if it only makes you cry out in pain? I'll change my iPod instead...
Marjorie took him away. The day he told me of his "great opportunity," I knew we needed to slow things down. I knew I needed to regain some sense of myself. Marj saw this, too, and she gave me an out. It would have been worse if it had lasted longer. These things always are. If it had piddled out and died from over-watering, I would have wasted more time in recovery, I'm sure. As it is, I feel I've spent too long in this place. I've wasted my energy mourning something that I've been bigger than this entire time. Waiting to get the closure from him that would have meant something more than the silence I heard over the phone, I know it doesn't work that way. It was over the moment I got that call on the lrt. The moment I made the choice to be myself - spending time with my BFF instead - was the moment Marjorie began to cut the cord. Now it's my turn to finish snipping...
He was "a mirror, the person who shows you everything that's holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life. ...probably the most important person you'll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful..."
The link to the vlog on cord-cutting:
http://gabbyb.tv/vlogging/vlog-cord-cutting
Monday, 24 January 2011
Saturday, 22 January 2011
Walks, Artists, and the Discovery of One's Self
There was this summer I had one time that changed my entire world... Since then I've had so many seasons that have changed my life that it seems absurd to remember them all. This one, though, was the beginning of Edumusication. As this winter is proofing, many wonderful things in my life begin with Edumusication...
I walked fifty blocks on my day off. Fifty blocks in the sunshine of a Vancouver summer to just enjoy the sunshine...and stop in at The Book Store...before hitting up the beach. It was a brilliant walk (and I think I was even sporting me orange crocs, which a few coworkers avoided commenting on), and I followed it up with a voyage into The Book Store.
(The Book Store is code for the large book chain I gave two and half years of my life to. I may have also given them my family's last hopes of me ever being satisfied with a "normal" job...)
I remember the heat of the sun beating down on my pale white skin as I made my way along Main Street...but I didn't stay on that street long. This was the first time I began my exploratory routes through the neighbourhoods between my house and The Book Store. The voyages would continue for the rest of that summer (yet sadly fade away into nothing the next summer), and I discovered some amazing places, (and extremely wealthy homes).
Once I made it into my second home, ear plugs blaring, pumping my legs and nodding my head along to the song coursing through my body, I bounded up the escalator and retreated into my favourite section. I can't remember which book I needed to find that day, but I do remember tapping my foot to the song, shaking my hips a bit and continuing to nod my head as I performed a search at the closest computer terminal.
"Can I help you?" this stranger asked me.
I turned, smiled, and took out my earplugs. "Oh, hi, no, thanks." I gave him my biggest grin (and I didn't even know its power at this time), and introduced myself. "I'm Jodi, you mus be new," and I read his name tag aloud as I shook his hand.
"Yeah, I am. But I've heard of you." Now, sentences like that are always nice to hear, so my smile continued.
"Only good things, I hope!"
"Yeah, don't worry." And the conversation may have gone in a few other directions before we got to this comment that has always stood out in my mind. "I saw this girl over here, busting a move at the computer and I just thought, man, she looks so happy..."
And I was.
That summer was filled with so much. So many things happened in my head that it's hard to even think of who I was before that summer. But this was one of those really good days. Yeah, one of those days that would make me wonder if I was possibly bi-polar because my highs can get so high, and my lows can go pretty low. Luckily, I understand that pop psychology is wrong in diagnozing mental disorders, and I just feel things pretty deeply...it's the artist side of me screaming to get out, I suppose...
I stopped, halfway through my walk, to eat in a restuarant by myself.
Yes, alone.
Trust me, if you've never done this, you've never lived! It took a lot of courage for me to order by myself, and I hid my face in a book to avoid the embarassment of not doing anything - like talking to the person I was dining with, 'cuz that would have been crazy - while I waited for my food to come. I had hidden whichever book I was currently reading in a cover we were selling at The Book Store, so nobody knew that I was devouring the lastest historical thriller to come since Dan Brown's Da Vinci Code, Elizabeth Kostova's The Historian. The server stopped by my table inbetween taking my order and just before my food was delivered. "Are you reading the Bible?" she asked. "Uh, no," I said, concerned that they thought I was that "freak" who was eating by herself.* "Oh, we (she pointed to the bartender) thought that's why you might be hiding it..." I went on to explain to her that I was trying to protect my book, you see, because I had only borrowed it, not bought it...but we have these cool little bookholders at The Book Store, if she was interested. (Always the sales person, ...for the companies I work for, not myself...)
It wasn't the most popular book in the world that made me into that girl bopping along to whatever tune was playing. It wasn't even the server asking me if I was reading the Bible. Perhaps it was the music I was listening to, 'cause I listen to some stellar tunes :-D But I think it was more than that. Somewhere along my journey that day, and that summer, I found myself. I found the person strong enough to eat in a restaurant by herself. I found the woman who could walk fifty blocks to search for a book. I found the artist who went hunting for inspiration in the city she was loving. I found myself.
I've lost her a few times. But not today. Today, I found her again, and I found my zen. I took a walk on a sunny day, and turned off my music to reach that zen place. I listened to the sloshing of the boots on the sidewalk, and the splashing of car tires in the melting roadways. I breathed in the crisp, January air. The sun soaked my cheeks in warmth, and the wind whipped my skin dry, but I didn't care. I experienced the city. I went hunting for inspiration in the city I am loving...and I found myself again.
Hmmmm...what a great day!
I'll share this GREAT Song with you to commemorate it....yes, apparently, sunshine always helps me find myself :-D
*DISCLAIMER: These are the thoughts of mine at that time, not my thoughts today. I think it is absolutely fine for you to go to a restaurant and read the Bible. I DO NOT think that makes you into a freak...but if it did, I would still be your friend. I enjoy people who read religious texts. :-D
I walked fifty blocks on my day off. Fifty blocks in the sunshine of a Vancouver summer to just enjoy the sunshine...and stop in at The Book Store...before hitting up the beach. It was a brilliant walk (and I think I was even sporting me orange crocs, which a few coworkers avoided commenting on), and I followed it up with a voyage into The Book Store.
(The Book Store is code for the large book chain I gave two and half years of my life to. I may have also given them my family's last hopes of me ever being satisfied with a "normal" job...)
I remember the heat of the sun beating down on my pale white skin as I made my way along Main Street...but I didn't stay on that street long. This was the first time I began my exploratory routes through the neighbourhoods between my house and The Book Store. The voyages would continue for the rest of that summer (yet sadly fade away into nothing the next summer), and I discovered some amazing places, (and extremely wealthy homes).
Once I made it into my second home, ear plugs blaring, pumping my legs and nodding my head along to the song coursing through my body, I bounded up the escalator and retreated into my favourite section. I can't remember which book I needed to find that day, but I do remember tapping my foot to the song, shaking my hips a bit and continuing to nod my head as I performed a search at the closest computer terminal.
"Can I help you?" this stranger asked me.
I turned, smiled, and took out my earplugs. "Oh, hi, no, thanks." I gave him my biggest grin (and I didn't even know its power at this time), and introduced myself. "I'm Jodi, you mus be new," and I read his name tag aloud as I shook his hand.
"Yeah, I am. But I've heard of you." Now, sentences like that are always nice to hear, so my smile continued.
"Only good things, I hope!"
"Yeah, don't worry." And the conversation may have gone in a few other directions before we got to this comment that has always stood out in my mind. "I saw this girl over here, busting a move at the computer and I just thought, man, she looks so happy..."
And I was.
That summer was filled with so much. So many things happened in my head that it's hard to even think of who I was before that summer. But this was one of those really good days. Yeah, one of those days that would make me wonder if I was possibly bi-polar because my highs can get so high, and my lows can go pretty low. Luckily, I understand that pop psychology is wrong in diagnozing mental disorders, and I just feel things pretty deeply...it's the artist side of me screaming to get out, I suppose...
I stopped, halfway through my walk, to eat in a restuarant by myself.
Yes, alone.
Trust me, if you've never done this, you've never lived! It took a lot of courage for me to order by myself, and I hid my face in a book to avoid the embarassment of not doing anything - like talking to the person I was dining with, 'cuz that would have been crazy - while I waited for my food to come. I had hidden whichever book I was currently reading in a cover we were selling at The Book Store, so nobody knew that I was devouring the lastest historical thriller to come since Dan Brown's Da Vinci Code, Elizabeth Kostova's The Historian. The server stopped by my table inbetween taking my order and just before my food was delivered. "Are you reading the Bible?" she asked. "Uh, no," I said, concerned that they thought I was that "freak" who was eating by herself.* "Oh, we (she pointed to the bartender) thought that's why you might be hiding it..." I went on to explain to her that I was trying to protect my book, you see, because I had only borrowed it, not bought it...but we have these cool little bookholders at The Book Store, if she was interested. (Always the sales person, ...for the companies I work for, not myself...)
It wasn't the most popular book in the world that made me into that girl bopping along to whatever tune was playing. It wasn't even the server asking me if I was reading the Bible. Perhaps it was the music I was listening to, 'cause I listen to some stellar tunes :-D But I think it was more than that. Somewhere along my journey that day, and that summer, I found myself. I found the person strong enough to eat in a restaurant by herself. I found the woman who could walk fifty blocks to search for a book. I found the artist who went hunting for inspiration in the city she was loving. I found myself.
I've lost her a few times. But not today. Today, I found her again, and I found my zen. I took a walk on a sunny day, and turned off my music to reach that zen place. I listened to the sloshing of the boots on the sidewalk, and the splashing of car tires in the melting roadways. I breathed in the crisp, January air. The sun soaked my cheeks in warmth, and the wind whipped my skin dry, but I didn't care. I experienced the city. I went hunting for inspiration in the city I am loving...and I found myself again.
Hmmmm...what a great day!
I'll share this GREAT Song with you to commemorate it....yes, apparently, sunshine always helps me find myself :-D
*DISCLAIMER: These are the thoughts of mine at that time, not my thoughts today. I think it is absolutely fine for you to go to a restaurant and read the Bible. I DO NOT think that makes you into a freak...but if it did, I would still be your friend. I enjoy people who read religious texts. :-D
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