Thursday, November 07, 2013

Children will listen...even adult ones.

Again, I'm over thinking. Or, maybe just not disregarding. I have a hard time when someone disappoints me. I can't even let them know. I just carry it around with me and feel awful about it. Instead of dealing with I grow older, I tend to just move away from them a bit. That makes me sad, too. I'm trying to file all of these things so I can remember what not to do.

Here's the thing. Even if you have a struggle with someone...they are loved by someone else. One should always keep that in mind. I don't. But, feeling the sting of hearing a negative comment (that I was not suppose to hear) about someone I love--I will now keep it in mind. It's hard when you have a negative opinion of someone...and someone else can't see your point. BUT, it isn't your job to turn them.

I realize I write about thing so vaguely sometimes. I can't exactly be direct about this one. But I can still write about what I learn. I'm slow to learn the "if you can't say anything nice" lesson. I most always have to be on the receiving end of a lesson in order to understand the harm first. That sucks about me.

This song reminds me of this point...
How what your words or your actions affect your children (or anyone around you). You are always a parent...and adult children are still small in many ways.

Love Barbra...

Wednesday, November 06, 2013

After The Gypsies

After the Gypsies
stole me
I began to live in color
I felt bruises from
cobblestones beneath my feet
Treats thrown to me in the street tasted deliciously sweet
Rocks under my head shortened my dreams
made them frequent/vibrant
My scent became that
of a wild animal
Tangles in my hair made it thick/luxurious
Every eye followed my
dash to grab a rotten piece of fruit from vendors who reeked of hashish and nicotine
Henna was placed upon
my hands
I had no need to wash them
Winters cold and summers heat tested my survival instincts
After the gypsies stole me
I felt so alive
---Ronda Miller. 

Ronda is a dear friend of mine. She's a poet and a lover of life. She is a survivor. It shows in this poem. I've posted poems from her on here before, but I wanted to address this one. 

There is an episode of Breaking Bad when Jesse finds a little boy in a horrendous situation. His parents are meth heads and the little boy lives in squaller. They are awful conditions. The boys seems unaffected. He knows this as his childhood. In the book, Room, a child experiences his childhood in prison...but that's his reality. He doesn't know anything different. Children seem to be born with such natural optimism. They make the best out of everything. They rise above. They are survivors. When does this leave us? When does pessimism sneak in? When do we start looking around and realizing..."This is shit. I need out of here." I'm not sure. I know there were times I had in Chicago when I was broke and took jobs to get by...and life was difficult. During the time it seemed normal and I just did what I had to do. Looking back I think, "how did I do that??" I think there are many times we look back on life and realize that things were a lot rougher than we thought and yet, we survived just fine. It's when you are older...when you've lived and you go through a rough time and think..."this really sucks..." That's when a decision is made. When I was so horribly depressed in college, I remember thinking how much more I felt than anyone else. I really understood how life felt. I was feeling the lows of low and the highs of high. I felt alive then. It was a rough time...but man, I wrote some good stuff. Luckily the decision I've always made is to make it through and make the best of it. I finally get so tired of feeling badly that I just decide to feel better. 

Sadly, some are unable to come to that conclusion. We lose them to that feeling. 

The optimism of this turn the harsh climate into a story of triumph. I love it. 

Monday, November 04, 2013

I really don't want to care.

Harper is walking...a few steps and then down--but she's doing it! She gets very excited when she realizes what's going on.
She seems happy with learning new things each day. She made show frustration but I don't see the disappointment at the things that she is unable to do. If she can't seem to do it she just keep trying until she can.

A sad realization about myself is that I spend most of my time thinking how I could be better instesd of being appreciative of who I already am. I could be a better cook. I could do better at the gym. The house could be cleaner. I should be reading more books. I should be writing more. I feel as if I'm not interesting enough. I see people that just exude confidence and I'm puzzled by it. Why am I not like that? Why am I not just satisfied with how I am alone. I do like spending time with myself. Its not like I don't like me, I just wish I was a better me. I focus way too much on outside influences and what other people think. I yearn to not give a shit.
I would say its because I'm at home with my thoughts all day, that I dive in the deep all the time. However I've always felt this way. Is this something that we get from my parents? Are we born with all these insecurities that never go away? I always want to be like somebody else. I've written about this a lot. I feel that there's something that I am supposed to do that I have not done yet. I really need to figure out what that is.

Saturday, November 02, 2013

Digging in.

Halloween is over the decorations must come down, marking another date looked forward to and passed. The trees have some leaves left, though we had a huge windstorm that I thought would leave them skeletal.

I need color outside for just a while longer before it is cloaked in white. But, I am looking forward to that, too. I constantly look forward or backward. I struggle with today. It's as if I'm holding onto a rope and pull up toward something (I don't know what) and look back and think, "wow, I'm only that far?" What a dim look at life. I have waves of happy...and waves of not so happy. Thus, the way everyone goes about it, I suppose. God I sound depressing.

Sometimes I feel as if the people who glide through life without thinking too much have it figured out. I think too much about everything. I dive deep into the meanings of each day. I think too much about the thoughts of others as well. I pick apart relationships in my head. I go over and over conversations I've had with people wondering if it could have gone better. ?? It is a frustrating and tiring way of existence. I bring things to attention. I don't do well with ignoring tough situations. I bring them up to people and it makes them uncomfortable. I cause people to ponder whether they can mentally handle time with me or not. OR they don't and I've just created all of it. The friends of mine that are naturally thinkers and ponder-ists have no issue. It's the people who just want to not think about much and think I'm making things harder by dealing with it. I guess they may be right.

There are issues that need to be dealt with--and it frustrates me to NO END when I'm forced to table it so I don't ruin the relationship.

Well was that vague enough?!

I've been watching some documentaries that have me thinking even more! So that doesn't help.
However, I REALLY recommend those who WANT to dive in to that stuff. They are about family and how you see things as a child vs as an adult. The REAL things parents are thinking, doing and feeling that aren't aware of as children. As an adult...and married with children of my own, they really struck a cord with me.

Stories We Tell


51 Birch Street.