You Can Get With This or You Can Get With That or DIY:Taking a Stand Against Misdirection, Indecision and Independent Angst

Making choices is the essence of living. Even when you don’t consciously know you’re making choices- you are. We are constantly evaluating stimuli, and choosing the path our next footsteps will take.  We are constantly making wrong turns, …or not necessarily wrong as  not direct, just random turnings in the Labyrinth.  We do this because we are desperate, to make the right choice, some choice, when we cannot see, and sometimes even when we can ,the consequences. We move because not moving is a decision to die. Like lemmings over a cliff, we know that we are rushing forward heedlessly, but we can’t be still in the midst of a roaring tide of humanity. We run, and we hope, always, that the trampoline is there- Deus ex machina working behind the scenes. (I don’t know, maybe lemmings don’t know they’re going to fall over the cliff – does that mean they’re lucky or not?) We are desperate and often, that automatically means stupid.  We want things to be known, we want the pleasure of life without the pain or depending on your mindset, the exact opposite ( which still comes out to about the same thing).  There are some of us who are so desperate, that we willingly walk into the jaws of Cerberus, or bring Hell to us, wherever we are in our misery- because in hell (maybe especially), you can surrender to a higher authority (or lower, considering the terrain). There are some of us who want to be less than we are, because it hurts less, costs less, demands less. As simple as that. But, oh, my loves, my very own, dear loves, we all know, it’s never as simple as that, don’t we?

To make choices is to acknowledge responsibility, and to acknowledge power. And there are consequences for having  power, for shouldering responsibility… but there is also glory. It is your choice- anonymity or grace, knowledge or ignorance, power or powerlessness; to go striding to your destiny or be dragged along by the whims of fate.  There is only one path for each of us- whether we turn and turn about or go widdershins in the circle- no matter how we circle the issue in our heads,  no matter how tangled it looks on the surface, the choice is to move forward on the path or to fall by the wayside and die.  The road to hell is paved with good intentions. We don’t want to do the wrong thing for the right reasons. We are scared and we long for certainty when the path  of life is  blocked by indecision and fear, but you cannot stand aside. You cannot step off your path. You can only decide if it will be a walk of shame or triumph.  Choose today to walk the hero’s path, to be troubled and alive, and moving , to make decisions when you know that sometimes you will (not might) be wrong. Because, maybe, some choices aren’t that hard after all. To live is to choose- sometimes, simply to choose to keep living, moment by moment.  The Glory Road is there for all of us. Which path will you step onto today? Choose.

“Life is change. Growth is optional. Choose wisely.”

Beware the Jabberwock or A Simple Kind of Life

I'm so ashamed, I've been so mean

I don't know how it got to this point
........................................................
Now all those simple things are simply too complicated for my life

How'd I get so faithful to my freedom?
A selfish kind of life
When all I ever wanted was the simple things
A simple kind of life

No Doubt- Simple Kinda Life
Lyrics and Vocals - Gwen Stefani


Beware the jabberwock, my child, the jaws that bite, the claws that snatch-Lewis Carroll

Life can be a lot like a jabberwocky- a kind of cage that encloses you in imaginary what ifs. What if I had chosen a different path, what if someone had chosen me, what if, what if, what if. And sometimes you can’t even remember what choice you made that led you here, or what dream you had that disappeared. I often wish I had had bigger dreams for myself as a kid. That someone had had dreams for me. I wish I had had dreams at all. Most of my life has been spent working, nose to the grindstone, and looking up every now and again to realize that I had no idea where the grindstone was rolling to. I have felt trapped in that hardworking, but oblivious persona. And every now and again, when some blinding flash of the obvious hits me, I realize how little time we have, and yet I still can’t seem to use it well enough. I never wanted to be the person who scaled Everest- I simply wanted to see it happen, to know that it could be done. I have accomplished some things in my life, simply by plodding away at them, but I’ve never felt the bursts of inspirational fire that the people I admire have. I will never see in the way of Picasso- in bursts of color and abstract shapes. I will never write in the way of Neruda, cool, honeyed, exotic words. I never wanted to. Then I did. And it was too late. I thought the simple life was all there would be for me and now I find that even the simple life may be beyond me. There are so many things I don’t understand. I want to be inspired by real life, and the imagination both, and find myself existing in one, wishing for the other, and not really feeling either. Where have all the Muses gone? And why did they never touch me? Life can feel a lot like a jabberwocky- a cage that encloses you in neverending “ I wants”. I want to be special. I want to be creative. I want to be loved. The simple things in life. Is there anyone out there who knows the answer to it all? Does anyone have the key? Tell me. I want to know what would happen if only......

Can't Get There From Here or After The Wreck, I Picked Myself Up, Spread My Wings and Flew Away

     Desperation has a bouquet all its own. It’s the scent of the hunted, of rage and fear, adrenaline pumping from your pores. Desperation is an outstanding evolutionary culling tool, because it separates the quick and the dead, predator from prey. It sometimes feels like the world is designed to make you desperate, to place you in perilous situations- (the truth is we do it to ourselves, adrenaline junkies, drama queens that we are. We act like it makes us feel alive. By definition you’re alive, dope- the question is whether you’re living. And most of us aren’t.)
       Desperation has a tendency to force you to make choices, to act. It focuses you, makes you more of what you are. If you were smart before, it sharpens your wits, sometimes enough to slit your own throat. If you were (ahem) less than stellar, you tend to get dum ber while under the wire. Desperation is like the Sword of Damocles swinging over your head. Jump one way or the other, you live or you die. Really, you live and you die. But maybe it doesn’t have to be that way. In life, the thing is, you have to realize that those desperate moments are just that..moments. They can be overcome. Life is like a tunnel and depression is like plaque in your arteries. It can make you sick, squeeze the breath out of you, make you wheeze and shake like a user in rehab. But if life is a tunnel, you are a conduit (to extend the metaphor)- you can expand. Life flows through you and in desperate times, that is when you need most to enbiggen (thanks Simpsons!) yourself, not to seal yourself in. You need to open yourself to the flow, to hope, to inspiration. If the Sword hangs above you, cut through it like Alexander. Trying to force down a big knot of pain, is like trying to swallow one of those horse sized tranquilizer pills that doctors often prescribe for “stress”. It will choke you and it won’t really solve the problem, only exacerbate it. It numbs you and makes you afraid to feel anything- and if you can’t feel anything, what’s the difference between being alive and dead? When you figure that out, it makes all the difference in the world. You can’t get where you want to be in the world by being desperate, or afraid. Desperate rats in a cage may scramble and climb, but they never get anywhere. You are not a rat- you are a conduit, a pipeline for the essence of all things. Don’t close yourself off. Don’t beat your head against the walls. Be still and listen and feel. Then move. Whatever direction you move, you’ll no longer be huddled under the knife. And even if you still don’t know where you’re going, you’ll go straight and proud, walking on the edge.

I do believe that most men live lives of quiet desperation. For despair, optimism is the only practical solution. Hope is practical. Because eliminate that and it's pretty scary. Hope at least gives you the option of living.

Harry Nilsson



Waltz For Life Will Born
I like the idea of waltzing for life- how 'bout you? Shake off your desperation today and dance!

Fight Club

     No positivity today. Every so often, people fall into a slump.  Unfortunately, today my slump happens to be a million miles deep. I sometimes feel like I'm on the outside looking in at life, but whenever I try to get inside, I then find myself desperately wishing I hadn't gotten caught up in the whole mess. It's almost like life is a fight- a go the whole nine rounds, knock down, drag out fight, and right now life is kicking my ass. It's slamming me on the ropes, and pile driving me to the mat and I kinda feel like it would really just be best to tap out. But I don't. No matter how hard life is slamming me in the face, no matter how much I wish I could just go to the mat and let life whale on me until the blood, sweat and mucus runs down my face, (how's that for an image?), no matter how much I want the bell to ring so I can go down for the count... I don't give up.  Stupid me.

  
      I am terrified about my future, nauseous, stressed out, and would like nothing more than to be unconscious for longer than the, barely,  six hours of sleep I get every night. I would like to be led by the hand to the next job, my future,  whatever is coming, because right now, I simply can't see it on my own. There are too many variables, and every one feels like it is so crucial, that if I make the tiniest mistake, I will forever, explosively,  f***  up my life . If I were a mouse,  the future would be a snake, hypnotizing and petrifying me, and right now, licking its chops.  I have never felt more like the underdog.  (Ok- not true, I often feel like the underdog. Then I get over it till the next crisis. Which happens to be now.)

  
     All I can do, is what I can do. Keep putting one foot in front of the other, take the punches like (if you'll pardon the metaphor) like a man.  I feel like Homer Simpson in that episode where he gets into boxing. Dumb as he is, he simply couldn't be knocked down- (mostly because he had a layer of fat around his brain, which protected him from too much brain damage. I know. I find our similarities quite startling as well). 

I'm not a powerhouse. I can't give life a roundhouse blow. I'm about as powerful as a kitten batting a piece of string. But at least I can stand. It's the best thing I can do- maybe the only thing I can do right now, till I get a better feel for the ring. Life is a struggle, a fight to the death. Maybe I couldn'ta been a contenda' (notice my Rocky accent), maybe I'm a small fry. But even the best has been known to choke in the clutch and let the underdog win.  I'll stay in the fight. I'll take those odds. I'll keep going- it's the only thing I know how to do. It's the only way to win.*

“Endurance is not just the ability to bear a hard thing, but to turn it into glory.”

William Barclay 

* Hmm, a little positivity slipped in there after all!

The Rainbow Connection

Somewhere over the rainbow,

Skies are blue

And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true.
-music- Harold Arlen
-lyrics- E.Y. Harburg



The one thing that connects us all is our unconscious. The dreams we dream as we lie asleep, on the beach, in our beds, under bridges – the visions we struggle with, and indulge in, brought about, maybe, by too much dinner, too much drink, too much stress, but all stemming from the same source. The spirit which makes us human, more than animals, less than divine, allows us to dream. To dwell in an other reality where nightmares loom, and precious fantasies are fulfilled. But, if any one knows, I do, that dreams and wishes aren’t real. Unless you make them real. I have nursed wishes like babies at my breast and been broken hearted when they didn’t come true or didn’t come true the way I thought they should have. I have , often , been wholly disappointed in dreams. They are common, like pests. An old saying, -“If wishes were horses, beggars would ride. If wishes were fishes, we’d walk on the sea.” In times when I have felt so down I forgot which way was up, I held on to dreams to get me through. But now I think it is time for new dreams. Not sleepy dreams, or “maybe one day” dreams, or “if only” dreams. But real , achievable capital “D” dreams. Dreams that I choose when I’m awake. Nothing nostalgic, or yearning, but something, paradoxical as it sounds, structured. A dream with a purpose. Over the course of my life, I have often had to make a dream for myself. I don’t know what I dreamed of doing when I was a kid. I don’t know if I forgot my dreams, or far more likely, even then, didn’t really dream at all, couldn’t see myself accomplishing much of anything. My childhood was oblivious- and not in a good way. I didn’t have a talent, or a foregone idea of where I wanted to work, or who I wanted to be. I went where I was told. I drifted. But after a year abroad, I’ve come to realize that I need to create my own dreams out of whole cloth. I need to make that list and check it twice, (but don’t call me Santa!). I need to make my life a dream I never want to wake from. In Celtic mythology, Epona is the goddess of horses and dreams. If you ask her, she will accompany your path and help you to make your dreams come true. I’ve never been the most creative person, or one who had a clearly defined path before her, but now I want to make a path for myself- a real path to happiness, however hard or long it maybe. If there is nothing I have been drawn to, then that doesn’t mean that there is nothing I can do, and especially shouldn’t do, to succeed in my own happiness. Happiness doesn’t have to be just in a dream, or over a rainbow. It can be real, true, and sustained, right here and right now. The “rainbow connection” is the journey from idea to truth, to reality- my reality. I hear the call of the future when I sleep. I can feel myself yearning, wanting my deepest desires to come true. This year I will make a new dream- I will write it down, and then …I will live it. Choose randomly, choose purposefully- but choose a dream this year. Choose it. Grasp it- follow it across a rainbow, and hang on to the tail of a star. Live your waking dream, walk your “moon-lines, your apple pathways “(Pablo Neruda). Walk into your dreams this year and never look back.





Who said that every wish, would be heard and answered

When wished on the morning star?

Somebody thought of that, and someone believed it

And look what it’s down so far

I’ve heard it too many times to ignore it

It’s something that I’m supposed to be

Somewhere we’ll find it, the Rainbow Connection,

The lovers, the dreamers and me

The Rainbow Connection- Jim Henson

Make A Joyful Noise

        Spent a bad weekend curled into a fetal ball eating pocky. That's leetle  Japanese chocolate dipped pretzel sticks for you folks not in the know. It was a rainy weekend, but that wasn't the source of my angst. I just suddenly got the feeling that nothing was quite right in the world and nothing could make it better. Not even two boxes of pocky and that usually solves everything. I had taken a walk earlier in the rain, which normally I love, but which in this instance only made me wet, and cold. I came home feeling anxious, lonely, and unaccountably tense, almost like I was having a breakdown.  Even my skin itched.
Have you ever gotten the feeling that somewhere just out of sight, behind the sets, and the bright lights that fool us into thinking we live in "reality", somewhere the real world is just falling apart? It's a consequence of being separate. Of feeling like other people aren't really real. It's that I'm the only real person in the universe, "One is the loneliest number" feeling you get when depression looms over you and you wish one person would acknowledge you.
     I think other people are better about combating this feeling than I am.  It has always seemed to me like every one else is just so happy (hawk, spit- ptooey!). And I'm not- not all the time, not exuberantly happy like some people. It quite literally makes me want to go to sleep and not wake up some days. I sometimes have the feeling that if I just went to sleep in my bed one night and didn't wake up, my body would just evaporate. And I would be okay with that.
     Feeling that disconnect is not a modern problem, but it is a growing one. It's so easy nowadays to be apart from people physically, and emotionally. Here in Japan, it's a legitimate mental illness with an "exotic" name. People who refuse to leave their homes here are called hikikomori- literally  "pulling away",  or "to be confined" (wikipedia.org). Suffering from acute social phobias, they withdraw and repel any attempt to bring them out  of their isolation.  I felt a little taste of that this weekend . It's a horrible, cramped, suffocating feeling to be cut off from the rest of the world. But I was lucky- just when I needed it, someone noticed me- I got an email, a smile from a neighbor, the rain stopped- all at once. As bad as my two days were, I can't imagine  how someone else who is struggling to live that way now, has been struggling, will still be struggling in a few years, feels. I made a choice a few years ago to do whatever it took to overcome my own depression- but for one weekend, I almost let it get the better of me. In the end, by luck, happenstance, pure coincidence- I didn't. (And those of you who know me, know I don't believe in any of those things.) It wasn't luck at all. It was love- love for myself. I didn't want to lose who I have become. Love from  my family- who sent that email just in time. Love for life- because I'm not done here yet, and I don't want to miss out on anything ever again. You don't have to believe that what I suffered was "bad"- I'm sure some people won't have anything but condemnation for someone who spent a "weekend" depressed. It was my battle- not yours. I fought it- not you. More important than your measurement of my pain, is my measurement of my success. I didn't give in , (or at least not for long). This morning I got up, and went to my job, and spoke to friends and the world didn't wobble. That's my victory. And yes, it was one weekend...after years of being numb, unable to sleep in my own bed because of panic attacks and being  unable to go to work without medication. One weekend.  I am truly more blessed than I can know or appreciate. Today I heard a song I had never heard before that said exactly what I had been feeling, and miracle of miracles, I was here to hear it.   Tomorrow, maybe I'll be able to sing a song, rusty voice and all- and be glad that I am here to sing it.  There are no coincidences. The war is never over, every battle spawns a new one. But victory can be won. Hope can live in the heart again in spite of the dark spaces. For today, I will whisper my gratitude that one weekend wasn't a year, or a decade, or a lifetime alone. Thank you to everyone who "spoke" to me then - by email, a smile, whatever.Tomorrow, I will raise my voice, or lift my pen, or write one more blog, so that someone else will be able to win their own battle. There are no coincidences- only connections, and consequences. If you have the time and the heart,  make a joyful noise today. You won't  be the only person who hears it.

"I like living. 

I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, 

racked with sorrow, 

but through it all I still know 

that just to be alive is a grand thing."

--Agatha Christie

Always Coming Home

Is your heart at home? Do you know your place in the world?
In a little over two months I will be going back home. Well, not home exactly, just back to the U.S. To what, exactly, I don't know. I really haven't missed the U.S. all that much.The things that I've been homesick for aren't really physical- although, there have been times when I would, if not kill, at least cheerfully maim someone for a Mcnugget. What I've really missed is the feeling of stability- of knowing the details of my friends lives, of feeling inconspicous in a crowd (and whoever thought I'd miss that feeling.). I miss lazy Sunday mornings in my local bookstore, and drinks with friends. I miss having a daily routine, with all the people I most care about in it. I miss the grounded feeling that home gives you- of knowing where you belong.  But the truth is, I can't go back to the home I knew as a kid. I can't go back to the house I bought and made my own. I can't go back to the town I left, because I know deep down that it won't fit me anymore. Never did I guess- or I wouldn't have left.  People's lives have gone on since I've been gone... and so has mine. Over the course of a year abroad, I've changed, and those who are nearest and dearest to me weren't there to see it. Will they welcome back the stranger in their friend's clothes?  Maybe.  Can I settle somewhere new and make a home all over again?  Of course I can. "Home is where the heart is." And at heart, I am a Southern girl- who likes magnolias, iced tea and barbeque. I like good gospel music, good greens and fried chicken. But I also like J-pop, sake and (not so much) sashimi.  I like the idea of weeks on the Riviera or quick jaunts to Brazil.  Having opened my door to the world, I'll never be able to close it again. So what is a mixed up, cosmopolitan (hah!) jet-setting girl to do? Love the one you're with. When you don't know where home is, you make it where ever you go and whoever you're with.  I've spent a year doing something I never dreamed I would. Paradoxically, I am both completely different from and more completely me than I ever have been before.  A change in locale was just a kick in the pants to begin a change in me. And I'm glad I did it. Because now I know what I want- who I want in my life, what I want my life to be, what my heart longs for. And wherever I land next, I'll take that with me. I guess  a year in the "real world" is a good idea for anyone who really wants to be able to appreciate exactly  what it means to " go home" wherever or whoever that may be. Everyone needs a home. After all "home is the place where, when you go there, they have to take you in." Robert Frost  So, I hope that all those out there who like me,  have yet to find that soft landing place they can call home, find it or make it, somewhere on that country road.








Where is home? Home is where the heart can  laughtwithout shyness. Home is where the heart's tears can dry at their own pace. 
~ Vernon Baker
  

Don't Worry, I'm A Stranger Here Myself or Down The Rabbit Hole

Listening to a little Nina Simone and trying to collect my thoughts, which like every day, have wandered like a flock of schizophrenic sheep.  A week or so ago, I was in Korea on vacation. I went thinking that it would be easy to handle - after all, I already live abroad, right? I went without knowing the itinerary, having the correct money, or speaking Korean. Sounds familiar- when did I do that recently? Oh, yeah, when I moved to Japan. It appears that some risks bear repeating.  So I went to Korea, and promptly found myself engulfed in madness, unable to communicate, at times feeling both older and more tired, and younger and more stupid than I had in - well, okay- that's how I usually feel. But usually, I have a hidey hole to escape to. This time, I was in Korea, in the middle of a market, surrounded by little old ladies with faces like wrinkled walnuts, unfortunate squids, screaming bargainers, and vendors who knew only two American phrases- "You buy?" and when I didn't want their merchandise, "Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye!"- accompanied with a shooing motion. (to be fair, I did buy a perfectly beautiful kimono- it only cost me about 20 bucks more on the market than it would have in the store. Oh well, it  was a good experience anyway.  But,) I really missed Japan. Then I got back to Japan and realized...I really miss America. Then I realized that it wasn't any place in particular I missed so much as a state of mind. Of knowing that I can communicate and be understood. And that hadn't happened in America, which was why I came to Japan....where didn't happen....again.  At some point, I realized that I was like a rat in a maze chasing it's own tail.  What I want most in the world is to  understand and be understood- by myself and others. What I'm most afraid of is that I do understand myself... and there really isn't all that much  to me, after all.   I get tired of acting old and wise, and I'm definitely tired of feeling young and stupid- but have come to the inevitable conclusion, that for most people, that is the definition of the human condition.  It's so odd the connections our minds make, how disparate thoughts come together and create our beliefs, and our personalities, and yet, how little do we understand how those neurons work. What sparks the sparks that carry the impulses and thoughts that make us, us? In the crowded spaces of my mind, I wander, picking up memories like knick knacks on the shelf of an antique store. And only occasionally do I find a mirror that shows me darkly who I am, or depending on how warped the glass is, who I could have been, still could be, could never have been, but wished desperately I was. I'm a stranger to myself and that is both frightening and strangely exhilarating. If I don't know who I am- then I can still change. I can still see myself differently. I can be free of even my own preconceived notions. If my thoughts are not in order, I can be free of them, free to think new ones. So, in a way, Korea taught me that it's okay to be a stranger, to not know the "lingo" as it were, to get caught up in the frenzy and give up any hope of understanding and to give in to feeling, to live the experience. So, thanks little old Korean ladies, (but not the one who pulled my hair).   Maybe, today, and every day,  I'll be a stranger to myself.... but instead of feeling frustrated with my unorganized thoughts, I'll spend my time getting to know myself anew all over again




            Happiness is not being pained in body or troubled in mind.
                                                                  Thomas Jefferson 

                                                         

Music of the Spheres or Songs in D(ee) Minor

Music hath  charms  to soothe a  savage breast, (and yes, that quote is right. I researched it. "head nodding emphatically"). And it must be admitted that sometimes I do feel a bit savage.  When I was a kid (waaaaay back when) the music of the time was The Mommas and The Papas, America, Abba, the Supremes, The Four Tops, Gladys Knight, and Gawd bless her, Aretha Franklin.  Then it changed, and suddenly it was BoyzIIMen and Soul II Soul (and what was up with all the II’s I don’t know), but it was music that had rhythm and soul, a little bit of romance, ( and a little more sex).  Then it changed again and it was Guns N Roses, Nirvana, Nine Inch Nails and Black Sabbath (and yes, I’m mixing genres, but don’t kill me- I’m getting ready to make a point here.)

For every memory  I have, there is a sound- a song which just hearing it, makes me remember a time, and place, sometimes even a smell that brings up memories and shocks me into realizing just how far I’ve come. But while my memories revolve around music, I still find thattoo  often I don’t dance to the beat of my own drum.  I encompass a generation of changing music and changing ideals- and I realized that most of the music I like is some of the saddest, angriest music of my generation. In musical language, I am a minor lover (not like that, perverts!)  I like songs in the minor key- think wistful, wailing, keening, songs or broad power ballads. I like Enya, Riverdance, wailing Indian sitars, Gladys and “The Midnight Train to Georgia”, and rock anthems all at the same time, because somehow they touch me. As if I’m the instrument being played by the music, some songs reach inside me and pluck a chord. But usually, not always, but usually- it’s a sad chord. I’d like to think I’m not a one note wonder, but I wonder if “Another Sad Love Song” (Toni Braxton, folks- before your time, I know) is all I’ll ever be able to play.  

So, I figured I’d try channeling a little bit of that melancholy into a love song for an lonely black girl. Writing songs, poetry, prose- anything set to music is a good way to psychoanalyze yourself. You have to force yourself to get into a rhythm and you never know what will come out of your pen or your mouth. But whatever comes, will be your song, the song of yourself (to plagiarize..ahem, [ paraphrase] Walt Whitman).
Try your hand today at writing the music of your heart. Then, more importantly, share it with someone you love. Whatever comes out, I’m sure, will be music to their ears.


So, I wrote this song on a sad, rainy day, and believe it or not, did not use a rhyming dictionary.
I just followed my thoughts, around and around and around aaaand they came out here.
Still in a minor key, but that’s where my head was at.
Imagine, if you will, Celine Dion or Sarah Mclachlan singing this timeless classic....
or just read the poem and leave it at that.
Maestro, if you please....

Time and Silence

If I loved you like the burning sun, would you run from my harsh gaze?

If I loved you like a stormy day, would you stand out in the rain?

Can I love you like an ocean wave, drowning in the undertow?

Guess I’ll love in time and silence, and I’ll never let you know



Could you love me like the starlight, bathe me in your crystal glow?

Could you love me like the desert, stretching on forever more?

Could you love like time is nothing, say your love will never die?

Will you love me like the dawning, pure and new with each sunrise?



I could say my love is perfect, but you ‘d know that that’s a lie

I could say my love is peaceful, but my heart shifts like the tide

I could wish my love were simple, but it’s willful and unclear

And though it breaks my heart to pieces, still the remnants I hold dear



If you loved me for a moment, though it’s all you had to give

I would love you for a lifetime, though your heart I’d never win



I still love you like a river, flowing to an end unknown

I still love you like a flower, like a bud that has not bloomed

I still love you like a memory, haunting wherever I go

I love you still in time and silence, and I’ll never let you know

10 Things I Hate About You or DIY: 10 Things I Love About Me

Saw a promo for a new show on the Style network- What I Hate About Me- and my first thought was, if that ain't a sure fire prescription for depression and self fulfilling prophecy, I don't know what is. Let me get this straight- the premise is people will  go on a television show to talk about what they hate about themselves? But then I thought about it- and realized that the concept isn't such a bad idea- especially once I saw the execution. Guests on this show don't just have a pity party. They're encouraged to change the things they don't like in a positive way- to make real, lasting life changes. While I'm still not sure it makes for prime time television, I do think that anything that helps you get out of a groove and into making healthy changes in your life can't be all that bad. ( and the truth is, we all like seeing someone who's a hot mess be transformed, don't we? [Ok- so we really  like seeing  the hot mess just as much as the transformation. One thing I hate about me- sometimes I can be so petty! Oh, well- something to work on.])


So let's experiment- what are the things you hate about yourself? And more importantly how can you change? And don't forget the corollary- what are the things you love about yourself? And how can you celebrate them more? 


[as always, I'll be the guinea pig-so here goes]


10 Things I Hate About Me 
(okay, it's really only 5- but, work with me here)


1. I'm really judgmental. But, I can work on being more empathic.
What I really want is for people to do the right thing. But the right thing for me is not always the right thing for others. My new bywords? Practice Tolerance.


2. I'm really self conscious. But,I can learn to speak up more. What I have to say has just as much value as what any one else has to say. And more important, only I can say what's really on my mind. 


3.I'm really stubborn about change. But, I can learn to look forward to change. Generally, it's not too bad and sometimes it's really fun. I just need to make sure I'm putting myself into positive situations- not reckless ones. 


4. I don't take great care of myself. But, I can do better- especially once I realize that my friends and family want me to be around for a long time. Taking care of myself isn't only important to me, but to them. 


5. I can be really introverted. But, I can make an effort to be more involved. Surprisingly, people actually want to see me and hear from me. I can make an effort to make more connections ( and selfishly, some connections can be really useful.)


10 Things I Love About Me
1. I'm very maternal- It makes me happy to take care of people and people appreciate being taken care of.

2. I'm really funny- even if it's only inside my own head. I can make myself laugh and that feels pretty good.

3. I'm smarter than I look- and being able to surprise people with some esoteric wisdom every now  and  again is pretty cool.

4. I may not be pretty, but I'm pretty strong- knowing that I'm strong physically and (sometimes)  mentally gives me the courage to try new things. Pretty is as pretty does- but inner strength will take you  pretty far. ( how's that for reiteration?)


5. I'm a good listener-which sometimes means I have a wet shoulder from people who need a willing ear, but it feels good to be there when people need you. 


Okay- that's just a start. I will finish the list eventually- (so smooth your feathers, those of you who don't like inconsistency). But more important- do your own list. It can be pretty revealing to see what  good things you acknowledge about yourself and what you know you need to change. Just looking inward is a good place to start- but remember not to stop there. Write the list, fix the list, then keep going till your pros outweigh  your cons. Be the best, do the best  that you can do from minute to minute- that's all that's asked.
One thing I love about you- You're the only you in the whole world. Keep on being you.

Self-love seems so often unrequited.*  

~Anthony Powell

*I heart you! 

   and me too!