Nothing like waiting till the last minute. I had a fairly long entry planned for tonight, but have to retire early. I'll be up before the rooster for a 6:30am shift in the morning, and if I don't get at least 6 hours of sleep, I'm kind of cranky. So, I'm just going to wing it.
I had a discussion yesterday, that left me feeling a bit unsettled. This person I know is going through some tough medical issues. Facing possible dangerous surgery, but a good future if the treatments and surgery are successful. Has a friend that wants to develop a more serious romantic relationship. Is wanting to push this friend away, to avoid the friend from being hurt, should things take a turn for the worst. Asked my opinion. Wants my advice.
Wow, how do you respond to that? I know that the friend is well aware of all the medical issues, all the factors, the dangers of the surgery, possible disabilities. And wants to pursue a relationship anyway. I also know that the friend is a strong, logical, compassionate person.
Truthfully, this medical situation will, most likely, have a very positive outcome. I can understand wanting to spare someone from the pain and heartache of finding love and losing it too soon. But is it right to make that kind of decision for someone else? Is it selfish? Noble?
When I married my husband, I knew that he had Multiple Sclerosis. I did my homework, learned all I could about the disease, what the worst case scenario could be. I made the decision to commit to a very uncertain future. For love. I think that's why my opinion was requested.
The only advice I gave was to give it some more consideration. To talk openly and honestly about all the fears and doubts, before making any final decisions. Why do you want to go through this alone? Would having a relationship make a difference in your ability to continue to fight for life? If you reject this possible love, and things turn out for the best, what then? It'll be too late for this relationship.
It stirred up some painful memories and regrets for me. Brought some of my demons back to the forefront. I'll be doing battle with them again.
It's bedtime. Oh, and by the way, the ice cream is awesome-I love brown sugar.
~Namaste~
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Friday, May 1, 2009
Day #1
I've noticed that in my life when things bother me, when I'm faced with some of my deeper feelings, I tend to stop writing, stop acknowledging those feelings on an outer level.
Taking up the challenge of writing a blog post every day for 30(31for May) days will grant me the opportunity to examine some of those issues here. Even in my paper journal, I manage to gloss over some of these feeling, just leaving them out, or hiding them from even myself.
When I first started this particular journal, this was my intention. To get some of those feelings out into the open. I haven't exactly been successful at doing that. In fact, I stopped writing here and in my other blog completely.
My paper journal has gaps in what is usually a daily habit of recording little odds and ends, events, or whatever. Having some of the deeper feelings leak out, when I wanted them tucked safely away in my deeper psyshe, lead to abandonment of writing about anything.
Lately, I've felt very inadequate-in many areas of my life. I've let procrastination, and an aversion of failure dominate my activities. If I don't try, I can't fail-right?
I've spent the last couple of months just marking time, wanting to begin projects, making plans for doing things, yet just not beginning. The disappointment and shame of this lack of motivation on my part has created a withdrawal from living life. I go out to work each day with a countdown in my head of how many hours till I can just return home-back to my safe little haven of not having to prove anything to anyone, least of all myself.
Watching the changes of the seasons, the beginnings of another spring, the greening and warming of the earth, has me yearning for the energy to move forward. With the months of cold and darkness finally behind me, it's time to shake off the lethargic hibernation and renew myself.
Committing to a daily journal entry or two, is one way for me to start looking closely at why I've allowed myself to stop believing in what I want. I have allowed myself to become complacent and accepting of having given up before the start.
The first day of the month is always a good starting point for new projects, the formation of new habits, the hope of beginnings. Today, being the first day of May, seems like the perfect day to commit myself to stepping out of my winter den of inactivity, of my hole of self-doubt.
I need to go for a walk. I've been putting off putting on my walking shoes and seeing how far I need to go to get myself back physically-I did spend the winter in self-indulgent eating and sitting. So I'm off for now. The fresh air may even blow some of the dust out of my brain cells-I've got alot of writing to do, ya know!
~Namaste~
Taking up the challenge of writing a blog post every day for 30(31for May) days will grant me the opportunity to examine some of those issues here. Even in my paper journal, I manage to gloss over some of these feeling, just leaving them out, or hiding them from even myself.
When I first started this particular journal, this was my intention. To get some of those feelings out into the open. I haven't exactly been successful at doing that. In fact, I stopped writing here and in my other blog completely.
My paper journal has gaps in what is usually a daily habit of recording little odds and ends, events, or whatever. Having some of the deeper feelings leak out, when I wanted them tucked safely away in my deeper psyshe, lead to abandonment of writing about anything.
Lately, I've felt very inadequate-in many areas of my life. I've let procrastination, and an aversion of failure dominate my activities. If I don't try, I can't fail-right?
I've spent the last couple of months just marking time, wanting to begin projects, making plans for doing things, yet just not beginning. The disappointment and shame of this lack of motivation on my part has created a withdrawal from living life. I go out to work each day with a countdown in my head of how many hours till I can just return home-back to my safe little haven of not having to prove anything to anyone, least of all myself.
Watching the changes of the seasons, the beginnings of another spring, the greening and warming of the earth, has me yearning for the energy to move forward. With the months of cold and darkness finally behind me, it's time to shake off the lethargic hibernation and renew myself.
Committing to a daily journal entry or two, is one way for me to start looking closely at why I've allowed myself to stop believing in what I want. I have allowed myself to become complacent and accepting of having given up before the start.
The first day of the month is always a good starting point for new projects, the formation of new habits, the hope of beginnings. Today, being the first day of May, seems like the perfect day to commit myself to stepping out of my winter den of inactivity, of my hole of self-doubt.
I need to go for a walk. I've been putting off putting on my walking shoes and seeing how far I need to go to get myself back physically-I did spend the winter in self-indulgent eating and sitting. So I'm off for now. The fresh air may even blow some of the dust out of my brain cells-I've got alot of writing to do, ya know!
~Namaste~
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Living in Passion
Passion.
Love.
I seem to lack the ability to foster either of those emotions. At least my idealized notion of what they would feel like/or be. Why?
Have I read too many romance novels? Have I created an unrealistic expectation for the intensity of emotion? Have I formed faulty impressions while watching a hockey game, or football game? Have I oversimplified the thought processes? Am I wrong about the motivation behind creating artworks of any form? About the desire to devote the majority of ones waking life to a singular activity, in all its intricacies and variables?
What inner spark drives the fan/aficionado/patron to follow? Knowing they lack the talent/skill to perform the music, place the defining brush stroke on the canvas, don the uniform, they still devote untold amounts of life energy to the appreciation of the passions of others.
What seed is planted and nurtured within, that flourishes and grows into a passion/love of any activity? Or person?
There are times when I question that ability. Knowing that the words on the pages are created to paint the picture of a fictionalized love-does that love, that desire, truly exist in that intensity? That totality of feeling, for whatever that passion exists for? That commitment of self?
The month of February has perennially been a time of introspection for me. It is what I've come to think of as a pause in forward movement for examining my life, playing the what-ifs that don't have a place in my reality. For questioning what I've done, felt, experienced.
February is the month that I was set adrift on the sea of living, without enough knowledge or skills to competently sail ahead.
In 1968, it was a month of tragedy for me. It was my first experience of fate's ability to change the game on a whim, to shake up the status quot. On February 9th, my 8 year old cousin Jeanne was crossing the road to wait for the school bus. She was hit by a car-killed instantly.
I remember the principle's secretary coming into my first period music class to fetch me to the office. My mother had been terminally ill with cancer, had come home to spend her final hours. My thoughts were that she had died after I'd kissed her good-bye and left for school.
The shock and grief that overwhelmed me when I learned of Jeanne's death, were only the beginning. One week later, on February 16th, my mother died. I was as prepared as a 12 year old living with a terminal parent, can be. I was basically left to deal with all of this by myself. I withdrew-my tiny boat had sailed.
I look on that month in that year, and wonder if the ability to love wholly, to believe in something totally, to live passionately, was left behind as unneeded, in my processes to survive, to simply get through life, never to be regained.
Is it at that point I gave away the right to deserve the best in life, to accept "less than" as my only option, to doubt that I was worthy of those emotions, that love, that passion for life?
I know that I've accepted that I've taken life's leftovers, the second or third best, as all I'm due. All I'm capable of finding. I've never really given up totally. Those dreams are tucked back in a corner of memory, to bring out, examine, feel a sense of loss over, and then quietly placed back in that corner, as the realities of my life intrude once again.
There are times however, when I glimpse that passion, that love of life, and feel just the tiniest bit envious.
Why not just change that attitude, that way of viewing life? I don't know how. I don't know how to believe in myself enough to see the other side, to reach forward to the other side of the fence. How, when I look in the mirror, to see something other(better) than what I already am. To imagine anything different. Even though I don't admire the face(or what lies beneath) that looks back at me, I can't reach for enough self-respect, self-caring, to do anything about it.
They say that having self-esteem, self-love, is essential, a prerequisite, before others can see you in that light, before you can truly love others, I imagine that applies to doing things, finding those passions in life.
Love.
I seem to lack the ability to foster either of those emotions. At least my idealized notion of what they would feel like/or be. Why?
Have I read too many romance novels? Have I created an unrealistic expectation for the intensity of emotion? Have I formed faulty impressions while watching a hockey game, or football game? Have I oversimplified the thought processes? Am I wrong about the motivation behind creating artworks of any form? About the desire to devote the majority of ones waking life to a singular activity, in all its intricacies and variables?
What inner spark drives the fan/aficionado/patron to follow? Knowing they lack the talent/skill to perform the music, place the defining brush stroke on the canvas, don the uniform, they still devote untold amounts of life energy to the appreciation of the passions of others.
What seed is planted and nurtured within, that flourishes and grows into a passion/love of any activity? Or person?
There are times when I question that ability. Knowing that the words on the pages are created to paint the picture of a fictionalized love-does that love, that desire, truly exist in that intensity? That totality of feeling, for whatever that passion exists for? That commitment of self?
The month of February has perennially been a time of introspection for me. It is what I've come to think of as a pause in forward movement for examining my life, playing the what-ifs that don't have a place in my reality. For questioning what I've done, felt, experienced.
February is the month that I was set adrift on the sea of living, without enough knowledge or skills to competently sail ahead.
In 1968, it was a month of tragedy for me. It was my first experience of fate's ability to change the game on a whim, to shake up the status quot. On February 9th, my 8 year old cousin Jeanne was crossing the road to wait for the school bus. She was hit by a car-killed instantly.
I remember the principle's secretary coming into my first period music class to fetch me to the office. My mother had been terminally ill with cancer, had come home to spend her final hours. My thoughts were that she had died after I'd kissed her good-bye and left for school.
The shock and grief that overwhelmed me when I learned of Jeanne's death, were only the beginning. One week later, on February 16th, my mother died. I was as prepared as a 12 year old living with a terminal parent, can be. I was basically left to deal with all of this by myself. I withdrew-my tiny boat had sailed.
I look on that month in that year, and wonder if the ability to love wholly, to believe in something totally, to live passionately, was left behind as unneeded, in my processes to survive, to simply get through life, never to be regained.
Is it at that point I gave away the right to deserve the best in life, to accept "less than" as my only option, to doubt that I was worthy of those emotions, that love, that passion for life?
I know that I've accepted that I've taken life's leftovers, the second or third best, as all I'm due. All I'm capable of finding. I've never really given up totally. Those dreams are tucked back in a corner of memory, to bring out, examine, feel a sense of loss over, and then quietly placed back in that corner, as the realities of my life intrude once again.
There are times however, when I glimpse that passion, that love of life, and feel just the tiniest bit envious.
Why not just change that attitude, that way of viewing life? I don't know how. I don't know how to believe in myself enough to see the other side, to reach forward to the other side of the fence. How, when I look in the mirror, to see something other(better) than what I already am. To imagine anything different. Even though I don't admire the face(or what lies beneath) that looks back at me, I can't reach for enough self-respect, self-caring, to do anything about it.
They say that having self-esteem, self-love, is essential, a prerequisite, before others can see you in that light, before you can truly love others, I imagine that applies to doing things, finding those passions in life.
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Uncertainty...
Warning-the following entry may be long and ramble a bit, but I've been going through some things and just keeping them hidden, bottled up. I do that. But I have to start talking about them now.
There may be some major changes in my life soon. It has me worried, I'm so unsure of myself right now. My emotions have been all over the place lately, and I've got to get a handle on them. I have some huge decisions to make. Actually, I KNOW what my decisions have to be, but I dread the day I have to voice them. These decisions will, without a doubt, sever my relationship with my brother. But I will have to do this for myself.
Some quick background. When I came back to Michigan, after my husband died and the house was foreclosed(long before the housing mess now), the idea was that since my brother was divorced, I was widowed, we should share expenses, rent together. Okay, cool.
Things went well, we stayed with friends till I got on my feet, we found a house(with the option to buy) and stayed there for 2 years. He hurt his elbow, was off work, was behind in the rent, didn't try to get a mortgage set up before the lease expired, so we moved to this trailer. That was Aug. 2007. Okay, the rent is cheaper, my nephew was living with us, supposedly helping out with the bills, I'm paying $350-$400 a month(actually about 1/2 of what the total should be) life goes on. In May, I find out we're $1200 behind in rent. I'm in shock, increase my share by $100 a month, paid directly to the landlady. Bro is handling the utilities, adding $100-$200 to the rent each month. We're getting caught up slow but sure, life goes on.
He gets laid off in mid-October, tells me it's going to be till the end of the month before he gets his unemployment started, can't pay the utilities, will have to catch them up later. Okay, things will be tight, but we'll be alright. He did some cash work for his boss, got his first check last week, says he's got to catch up some on the utilities, so won't have any to contribute to rent. Well, we'll be okay, we've made good progress, it'll just take longer to get up to date. We have a very nice landlady. He was complaining about the cable bill being so high. Our introductory rate had expired, it's jumped $25 a month. Okay, cancel cable, I'll find internet access on my own.
He's not cancelling it, it's getting shut off! I can't believe how naive I've been about things. How gullible and trusting, how stupid. What a fool! He didn't want to show me the cable bill, said it was in his room, he'd get it out later so I could see it. Hoping I'd forget to ask. Now, I'm not the type of person to snoop into other people's things, their mail, or whatever. But I was curious, the bills were right here on the kitchen table, so I looked. Not only has it gone up $25 a month, it's a month behind. So I continued to snoop. The electric bill is 3 months behind, the natural gas bill is 2. I'm angry!!!
More background-his take home pay was at least $1200 a month plus overtime. Mine $900-$1000. No credit cards, car payments, or loans for either one. I'm paying half of my monthly income in rent and storage unit. He isn't even paying a third of his. I'm more angry!!
I've gone without things, my car needs work, I've done everything I can to make this situation better. He's just skating...
This next part is hard for me to explain. Since my mother died when I was 12, I haven't really had anyone in my life I could depend on. My dad got remarried, his new family took priority, I moved out on my own. When I got married, I thought I'd be part of a family again-that didn't happen(a long story), when I came home I thought finally-family I can depend on. Wrong again.
Back to the decisions. I have to decide whether to just ride this out till the utilities get shut off, or we get the eviction notice, or cut my losses now. If I go now, it will be a real struggle financially for me. My options are limited. A motel room here in town that rents by the month, will let me make weekly payments(utilities included). $350 a month. Or a studio apartment that a friend has(about 20 miles away), that would be less expensive, but a little more driving to and from work. I haven't talked to her about it yet, I want to be more coherent in my thoughts and have my financial picture more in focus. That's about it. If I ride this out, it could be a couple months before things fall apart. I need to get my car fixed, and I could put a little money aside to be more prepared. But in the meantime, I could wake up one morning to no heat or lights.
Whenever it is that I tell Bro that I'm going to live by myself and that I can't worry about him anymore, there will be (guaranteed) a huge arguement, very ugly. He has a tendency to hold heavy grudges-for a very long time. He still trashes his ex-wife(6 years later) on a regular basis. Essentially, my family will decrease to one-Son-400 miles away. Aunt and Uncle, cousins, that aren't really all that close(family ties) but live nearby. I'll be alone, but this area is home, so I'll be staying around here.
Right now it hurts to think about this situation. So, I've been distracting myself with umpteen different projects and not using my time the way I should(packing up for the inevitable). I guess, by finally putting this into words here, I'm taking a step in the right direction. I need to sit down with pen and paper, get my thoughts organized, my things packed up and out to my(seperate) storage unit. I need to take the responsibility to do what I need to for myself. In a way, I'm as bad as he is...not facing things, just letting the situation slide.
But right now, it just hurts. I'm nervous about being out on my own, living alone, too.
There may be some major changes in my life soon. It has me worried, I'm so unsure of myself right now. My emotions have been all over the place lately, and I've got to get a handle on them. I have some huge decisions to make. Actually, I KNOW what my decisions have to be, but I dread the day I have to voice them. These decisions will, without a doubt, sever my relationship with my brother. But I will have to do this for myself.
Some quick background. When I came back to Michigan, after my husband died and the house was foreclosed(long before the housing mess now), the idea was that since my brother was divorced, I was widowed, we should share expenses, rent together. Okay, cool.
Things went well, we stayed with friends till I got on my feet, we found a house(with the option to buy) and stayed there for 2 years. He hurt his elbow, was off work, was behind in the rent, didn't try to get a mortgage set up before the lease expired, so we moved to this trailer. That was Aug. 2007. Okay, the rent is cheaper, my nephew was living with us, supposedly helping out with the bills, I'm paying $350-$400 a month(actually about 1/2 of what the total should be) life goes on. In May, I find out we're $1200 behind in rent. I'm in shock, increase my share by $100 a month, paid directly to the landlady. Bro is handling the utilities, adding $100-$200 to the rent each month. We're getting caught up slow but sure, life goes on.
He gets laid off in mid-October, tells me it's going to be till the end of the month before he gets his unemployment started, can't pay the utilities, will have to catch them up later. Okay, things will be tight, but we'll be alright. He did some cash work for his boss, got his first check last week, says he's got to catch up some on the utilities, so won't have any to contribute to rent. Well, we'll be okay, we've made good progress, it'll just take longer to get up to date. We have a very nice landlady. He was complaining about the cable bill being so high. Our introductory rate had expired, it's jumped $25 a month. Okay, cancel cable, I'll find internet access on my own.
He's not cancelling it, it's getting shut off! I can't believe how naive I've been about things. How gullible and trusting, how stupid. What a fool! He didn't want to show me the cable bill, said it was in his room, he'd get it out later so I could see it. Hoping I'd forget to ask. Now, I'm not the type of person to snoop into other people's things, their mail, or whatever. But I was curious, the bills were right here on the kitchen table, so I looked. Not only has it gone up $25 a month, it's a month behind. So I continued to snoop. The electric bill is 3 months behind, the natural gas bill is 2. I'm angry!!!
More background-his take home pay was at least $1200 a month plus overtime. Mine $900-$1000. No credit cards, car payments, or loans for either one. I'm paying half of my monthly income in rent and storage unit. He isn't even paying a third of his. I'm more angry!!
I've gone without things, my car needs work, I've done everything I can to make this situation better. He's just skating...
This next part is hard for me to explain. Since my mother died when I was 12, I haven't really had anyone in my life I could depend on. My dad got remarried, his new family took priority, I moved out on my own. When I got married, I thought I'd be part of a family again-that didn't happen(a long story), when I came home I thought finally-family I can depend on. Wrong again.
Back to the decisions. I have to decide whether to just ride this out till the utilities get shut off, or we get the eviction notice, or cut my losses now. If I go now, it will be a real struggle financially for me. My options are limited. A motel room here in town that rents by the month, will let me make weekly payments(utilities included). $350 a month. Or a studio apartment that a friend has(about 20 miles away), that would be less expensive, but a little more driving to and from work. I haven't talked to her about it yet, I want to be more coherent in my thoughts and have my financial picture more in focus. That's about it. If I ride this out, it could be a couple months before things fall apart. I need to get my car fixed, and I could put a little money aside to be more prepared. But in the meantime, I could wake up one morning to no heat or lights.
Whenever it is that I tell Bro that I'm going to live by myself and that I can't worry about him anymore, there will be (guaranteed) a huge arguement, very ugly. He has a tendency to hold heavy grudges-for a very long time. He still trashes his ex-wife(6 years later) on a regular basis. Essentially, my family will decrease to one-Son-400 miles away. Aunt and Uncle, cousins, that aren't really all that close(family ties) but live nearby. I'll be alone, but this area is home, so I'll be staying around here.
Right now it hurts to think about this situation. So, I've been distracting myself with umpteen different projects and not using my time the way I should(packing up for the inevitable). I guess, by finally putting this into words here, I'm taking a step in the right direction. I need to sit down with pen and paper, get my thoughts organized, my things packed up and out to my(seperate) storage unit. I need to take the responsibility to do what I need to for myself. In a way, I'm as bad as he is...not facing things, just letting the situation slide.
But right now, it just hurts. I'm nervous about being out on my own, living alone, too.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Welcome to my new home~
As you can see, I've got the basics taken care of. I still have a few boxes laying around, may rearrange things again, well you know how it is.
It'll be time to get back to work here, soon. As I go through the process of adding the finishing touches, I'll be working on some rough drafts and forming my scattered thoughts and emotions into some cohesive entries. I'm looking forward to it.
It's funny, well maybe not funny, how about cathartic-that being thrust into the melee of having to move my journals has awakened my desires to start writing again. Maybe with a more concentrated desire than I've had in quite awhile. I've even taken to carrying a notebook with me to work, to jot down thoughts that race through my head while I do mindless tasks. You don't really have to focus on mopping the floor, now do you?
Change is a very unsettling state for me to be in. My fears raise their ugly heads: but you don't know how to do that, what if you screw this up, you don't want to look stupid, awkward, you haven't bothered to take the time to learn enough of this yet, why haven't you?
My demons! My inner critic, my insecurities, have a habit of making themselves prominent in my mind. I am learning how to talk back to them-"Oh Yeah? Well maybe it's time I did learn, what if I do screw this up, I can try again". And it goes on.
I've got some catching up to do, so I'm closing this entry for now.
<3 Leigh
It'll be time to get back to work here, soon. As I go through the process of adding the finishing touches, I'll be working on some rough drafts and forming my scattered thoughts and emotions into some cohesive entries. I'm looking forward to it.
It's funny, well maybe not funny, how about cathartic-that being thrust into the melee of having to move my journals has awakened my desires to start writing again. Maybe with a more concentrated desire than I've had in quite awhile. I've even taken to carrying a notebook with me to work, to jot down thoughts that race through my head while I do mindless tasks. You don't really have to focus on mopping the floor, now do you?
Change is a very unsettling state for me to be in. My fears raise their ugly heads: but you don't know how to do that, what if you screw this up, you don't want to look stupid, awkward, you haven't bothered to take the time to learn enough of this yet, why haven't you?
My demons! My inner critic, my insecurities, have a habit of making themselves prominent in my mind. I am learning how to talk back to them-"Oh Yeah? Well maybe it's time I did learn, what if I do screw this up, I can try again". And it goes on.
I've got some catching up to do, so I'm closing this entry for now.
<3 Leigh
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Thoughts Swirling~
Yet, I can't seem to transform them into journal entries of any kind. A record of the kaleidoscope of my emotions escapes me. All the colors of my thoughts, the varied shades of feeling just drift, with no canvas to be painted on, for future perusal.
When I was a teenager, I was diagnosed with a mild form of depression-chronic dysthymia. This condition assaults me a couple times a year, lasting from a few weeks to months. During these "flare-ups" my inner life comes to a standstill. I've devoloped the skills to get through the basics of life, go to work, eat, sleep, function normally to all appearances. But activities with any kind of meaning, anything productive in my life, are beyond my abilities.
Logically, I know when I'm depressed-emotionally, I can't drag myself out of it. My mind becomes a maze of negativity and emptiness, that doesn't seem to have an exit. I wander through this maze in an awareness of it, but no map to lead me to the open spaces beyond.
The frustrating thing is that I can feel life slipping by, and yet do nothing to grasp it, nothing to lead to a feeling of accomplishment, progress, evolvement, involvement.
This particular period has left me bereft of the words to express it, to move it along and get past it. It's a new twist. Words have never deserted me this way before. One of the things I've always been able to do is write, sometimes over and over, about my feelings of uselessness during these bouts. I have notebooks with pages and pages full of self-flagellation to prove it. My own worst critic has never been at a loss for words, still running rampant through my head, even as I write this.
Yet this time, till now, I haven't been able to capture them on a page. I'm chaining myself to this venue of expression to write this. My hopes are that, like a pinhole in a dam, these few words will erode the wall, particle by particle, opening a channel for these swirling thoughts to begin flowing again, onto the pages of my life.
I've wasted some beautiful late summer and early fall days in this maze of depression. I regret that. I mourn the fact that they're escaping into the past without my having left a memory on them. Just an emptiness that I haven't been able to fill.
Today is the last nice day, in the forecast, for now. It's turning colder and cloudy at the beginning of the week. I'm going to make an effort to get past the inertia I'm feeling. Take a lunch, blank notebook and pen, to the lake and see if I can't find the words to express some of these swirling thoughts.
<3
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Passions
Question-What are you Passionate about? What makes your world rock? I'm not necessarily talking about sex here, but deep abiding passions. Things in your life that mean "everything".
The definitions that apply, when I looked it up: intense, driving or overmastering feeling or conviction. A strong liking or desire for or devotion to some activity, object, or concept. An object of desire or deep interest.
I've been reading journals, news articles, and witnessing the passionate way some express their views and beliefs in regard to politics. Politics doesn't do it for me. I won't even talk about it with anyone, in depth. In fact, I get downright disgusted by the way politicians attack and belittle each other, twisting the other's words around to look like they mean something completely different. In a very broad sense they lie about each other. Don't I have any opinions about the issues? Of course, I do. I just don't feel a driving need to express them. Truthfully, I don't feel that my opinion would make that much of a difference, or that my actions would make any more than a teeny tiny ripple in the grand scheme of things. (Yes, a tiny ripple is action that leads to more action- in the right places.) But my tiny ripple is confined to a very small area that reaches the shore and just smoothes out.
My son shows great passion in the things he believes, and I envy him that. I hope that he can fulfill his dreams of making a difference in the things he believes so strongly in. I'm discovering that he is becoming a man who thinks outside the box, that cares, that is doing things to change his little corner of the world. I'm very proud of him for that.
I've witnessed the passion for family. The love and devotion to do absolutely everything that it takes for others. Do I have that kind of passion? No. Sadly. At least I don't seem to have it. Yes, I do love my son, brother, etc. But I have actually walked away before. My brother and I were estranged for over 25 years. There are extenuating circumstances and convoluted explanations for why it lasted so long, but are not for this entry.
I spent the day, yesterday, distracting myself with unimportant, useless activities. I just couldn't muster up the physical or emotional energy to do the things I should have and wanted to. So I just piddled the day away. I wrote an entry in I Was Thinking about my day, my life, how quiet and uninteresting it all is. That bothered me and ate at my brain.
Still this morning, it's there. Making a list of things I enjoy, things I might have a passion for las left me with this realization. There just isn't anything that I am that passionate about. It really bothers me. Why? Why isn't there something in my life that means the "all"?
Oh, I have alot of things that I enjoy: reading, watching sports, swimming, crafts(many different things), learning to use the computer. I'm not even passionate about my health, doing everything I can to ensure that I remain as active and strong as I can, for as long as I can.
I've got some real exploring to do here, to try and figure out why. The more digging I do into my life and feelings, the more questions I have and the more elusive the answers become. And honestly, I'm not very proud of the person I am.
If life were ideal, I'd have the time and space and knowledge to be able to figure this all out and change it. A retreat, an extended vacation, a camping trip alone, surrounded by nature.
Maybe I'm spreading myself too thinly, trying to do too many things, keeping an interest in too many things at one time to truly devote myself to what would be most important to me. And I can't even define what that is, other than trying to figure myself out.
::Sigh:: <3 Leigh
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)