One of my favorite Robert Frost poems...
Fire and Ice
Some say the world will end in fire;
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To know that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Fear
As you can tell from my entries, I tend to be a collector of clever quotes and sayings (or what I deem clever quotes and sayings). Not that I'm not clever, but I usually seem to find my somewhat rambling and chaotic musings are better reflected and capsulized in the words of others.
Today's find is a short quote by author H. Jackson Browne. "Don't be afraid to go out on a limb. That's where the fruit is."
I don't really consider myself to be a fearful person. In my general, everyday life, I think I tend to be close to fearless. I'm usually more than willing to have the hard conversations when necessary. I want people to be up front with me, so I try to do the same with them.
There are times though, ususally in my personal life, when I've caught myself exhibiting traits such as indecisiveness and incessent worrying. They seem to center around my concern on how my words and actions will be taken, interpreted by the person I'm interacting with. And this, of course, stresses me out. My suspicion is that it is usually unnecessarily, but this logical approach doesn't always seem to work on my more illogical, emotional side.
So coming across this quote today - "Don't be afraid to go out on a limb. That's where the fruit is." - just reminds me to work through the fear because chances are good there's better stuff at the end of the limb.
Today's find is a short quote by author H. Jackson Browne. "Don't be afraid to go out on a limb. That's where the fruit is."
I don't really consider myself to be a fearful person. In my general, everyday life, I think I tend to be close to fearless. I'm usually more than willing to have the hard conversations when necessary. I want people to be up front with me, so I try to do the same with them.
There are times though, ususally in my personal life, when I've caught myself exhibiting traits such as indecisiveness and incessent worrying. They seem to center around my concern on how my words and actions will be taken, interpreted by the person I'm interacting with. And this, of course, stresses me out. My suspicion is that it is usually unnecessarily, but this logical approach doesn't always seem to work on my more illogical, emotional side.
So coming across this quote today - "Don't be afraid to go out on a limb. That's where the fruit is." - just reminds me to work through the fear because chances are good there's better stuff at the end of the limb.
Monday, January 14, 2008
The resolution of happiness
As the new year kicks into full swing, the possible resolutions I can set before myself are limitless – go to the gym more often, eat better, keep my desk, my house, my car clean. But the one that I am most interested in actually attaining and maintaining is happiness.
I’m currently rereading Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert, who spent a year divided evenly between Italy, India and Indonesia focusing on pleasure, devotion and balance.
In her Indonesia section, where she’s focused on finding the balance between worldly enjoyment and divine transcendence, she writes:
“I keep remembering one of my Guru's teachings about happiness. She says that people universally tend to think that happiness is a stroke of luck, something that will maybe descend upon you like fine weather if you're fortunate enough. But that's not how happiness works. Happiness is the consequence of personal effort. You fight for it, strive for it, insist upon it and sometimes even travel around the world looking for it. You have to participate relentlessly in the manifestations of your own blessings. And once you have achieved a state of happiness, you must never become lax about maintaining it, you must make a mighty effort to keep swimming upward into that happiness forever, to stay afloat on top of it. If you don’t, you will leak away innate contentment. It’s easy to pray when you’re in distress but continuing to pray when your crisis has passed is like a sealing process, helping your soul hold tight to its good attainment.”
Proactive is not a word I’ve ever been able to use to describe my own quest for happiness. For most of my adult life, I’ve given up ownership of my own happiness to the responses, reactions, feedback of a partner, a friend, a boss, a parent, a sibling. “I just want to be happy” is often a phrase I’ve uttered to myself and anyone else who happened to be standing too close at the time.
Not that I haven’t had any happiness in my life. If I concentrate hard enough, I can see moments, in the past as well as the present, where I’ve lived in moments of happiness – roasting marshmallows over a campfire on a starry June evening, watching my niece smile at my sister like she’s the sun and the moon, gallery hopping in Taos, beating my parents at a friendly game of euchre, ruining another pair of shoes creeking at camp, a new business win, a quiet afternoon window shopping in San Francisco, feeling the wind blowing as we stand on deck watching a humpback whale crash into the ocean, watching the New Mexico late evening sky light up as the setting sun and impending thunderstorm battle for exposure, hanging out and laughing hysterically at Mystery Science Theater 3000, squealing with pure pleasure as my grandpa pushes me higher in the tire swing, a quiet evening spent in the arms of someone I adore.
These moments though have been only that though, just moments – happy moments that each stand alone with no direct connection to one another. The string that should connect them all absent.
So my resolution this year is to take ownership and responsibility for my own happiness. I’m determined to fight for it, insist upon it. I’m no longer satisfied to just exist between happy moments. I want the in between to matter too, I want to find happiness in the in between. And so this is my resolution.
I’m currently rereading Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert, who spent a year divided evenly between Italy, India and Indonesia focusing on pleasure, devotion and balance.
In her Indonesia section, where she’s focused on finding the balance between worldly enjoyment and divine transcendence, she writes:
“I keep remembering one of my Guru's teachings about happiness. She says that people universally tend to think that happiness is a stroke of luck, something that will maybe descend upon you like fine weather if you're fortunate enough. But that's not how happiness works. Happiness is the consequence of personal effort. You fight for it, strive for it, insist upon it and sometimes even travel around the world looking for it. You have to participate relentlessly in the manifestations of your own blessings. And once you have achieved a state of happiness, you must never become lax about maintaining it, you must make a mighty effort to keep swimming upward into that happiness forever, to stay afloat on top of it. If you don’t, you will leak away innate contentment. It’s easy to pray when you’re in distress but continuing to pray when your crisis has passed is like a sealing process, helping your soul hold tight to its good attainment.”
Proactive is not a word I’ve ever been able to use to describe my own quest for happiness. For most of my adult life, I’ve given up ownership of my own happiness to the responses, reactions, feedback of a partner, a friend, a boss, a parent, a sibling. “I just want to be happy” is often a phrase I’ve uttered to myself and anyone else who happened to be standing too close at the time.
Not that I haven’t had any happiness in my life. If I concentrate hard enough, I can see moments, in the past as well as the present, where I’ve lived in moments of happiness – roasting marshmallows over a campfire on a starry June evening, watching my niece smile at my sister like she’s the sun and the moon, gallery hopping in Taos, beating my parents at a friendly game of euchre, ruining another pair of shoes creeking at camp, a new business win, a quiet afternoon window shopping in San Francisco, feeling the wind blowing as we stand on deck watching a humpback whale crash into the ocean, watching the New Mexico late evening sky light up as the setting sun and impending thunderstorm battle for exposure, hanging out and laughing hysterically at Mystery Science Theater 3000, squealing with pure pleasure as my grandpa pushes me higher in the tire swing, a quiet evening spent in the arms of someone I adore.
These moments though have been only that though, just moments – happy moments that each stand alone with no direct connection to one another. The string that should connect them all absent.
So my resolution this year is to take ownership and responsibility for my own happiness. I’m determined to fight for it, insist upon it. I’m no longer satisfied to just exist between happy moments. I want the in between to matter too, I want to find happiness in the in between. And so this is my resolution.
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Lessons learned
We hope that out of every relationship that doesn’t last (notice I didn’t use the term failed here), we learn and grow both as an individual and as a partner. In my last relationship, I learned a lot of lessons, many of them the hard way. We started dating when we were young, so figuring out the relationship dos and don’ts over the years resulted more from trial and error than really remotely having any clue as to what we were actually doing.
As a partner, there were a lot of things I was good at, and as every ying must have a yang, there were a lot of things I was only infrequently and sporadically good at (aka the things I sometimes sucked at). But thanks to a lot of soul searching, fighting, tears and a fabulous therapist, there are lessons I learned that I will gladly allow to accompany me into any future relationship:
As a partner, there were a lot of things I was good at, and as every ying must have a yang, there were a lot of things I was only infrequently and sporadically good at (aka the things I sometimes sucked at). But thanks to a lot of soul searching, fighting, tears and a fabulous therapist, there are lessons I learned that I will gladly allow to accompany me into any future relationship:
- You can bring home issues, anger, frustrations from the office, but leave them in the car, don’t let them follow you through the door. A partnership is about sharing the good, the bad and the ugly, but there’s no need to share the bad and the ugly the minute you walk in the door. Grab the mail, walk in the door, kiss your partner, tell him you had a horrible day and ask for a hug. Just be in the moment, in the arms of the person who loves you most in this world. It will take the edge off the horror of the day, and remind you that the most important part of your life isn’t found inside four walls from 8-5.
- No one should have to carry the burden of being the end-all, be-all of your happiness. When you’re in the middle of an intense relationship, it’s so easy to fall into the trap of tying all of your happiness to your partner – living for their praise, compliments. But that’s a lot of responsibility for anyone to have to carry. You’ll be a better partner if you take responsibility for yourself first.
- Fight in the moment. It’s probably most stereotypical of women that once we’re in the middle of a fight, we’ll bring up every other issue – whether or not it’s related to the issue at hand – possibly imaginable. Stay on topic. You’ll only add unnecessary, additional tension by bringing up unrelated issues. Plus, if you stay on topic, in theory, the fight will be shorter and it’ll get you to the make up part sooner!
- Don’t loose sight of what’s important. It’s easy to get caught up in the drama and stresses of work, friends, the greater world. Sometimes it’s hard to see beyond them and understand at the end of the day and in the grand scheme of life, they’re relatively not that important. At the end of the day what is important is that the person in your life knows you love them first and most in this world, that they are your ultimate focus. From this perspective, all of the other things will fall into place. Everything else is, if not easier, at least manageable when you’re facing them together.
Friday, January 4, 2008
Sisterhood
More than anyone in this world, I adore my sister. She’s my favorite person, and the one I usually turn to first to share triumphs and hysterical moments, as well as frustrations and defeats.
Trust me, we weren’t always close. We had the typical, stereotypical love-hate sibling relationship growing up. As much as I loath to admit it, I was somewhat of a brat during the majority of our childhood (I know, you’re asking yourself, “only somewhat?”). I tell her that she’s a stronger person today from having suffered through all of those miserable moments and years of my bossiness and obnoxious behavior – she quickly adds that I just say that to make myself feel better. Perhaps she is correct. But as I’m the author here, I’ll stick by my line, even if it is my slightly romanticized, revisionist view of the past.
We successfully weathered a childhood and early adulthood where we sometimes got along, but were not particularly close. We lived our separate lives and journeyed forward more as acquaintances than friends. Though when we were young, there were times when we banded together against my parents – as a sister is the best person to serve as a partner in crime (of course, this differs from the times I set her up to get in trouble with our parents). In my memories, these distinctive moments of closeness usually occurred on our annual family vacations – which for those of you who don’t know our history, consisted of driving across the country with my parents exploring popular as well as out-of-the-way adventures. Our family vacations were typically two to three weeks, though our west coast adventure lasted five weeks and our Alaska trek nearly eight. On these trips, we had only each other and usually bickered less, much to my parents’ pure joy I’m assuming. We spent hours in the car reading, playing games, braiding yarn octopuses and driving my parents up the wall. We chased each other at the many campgrounds that we called our temporary homes. We slept head-to-head down the aisle of our van turned camper. We explored fabulous city blocks, trekked up mountainsides, played tag in campground pools, sang John Denver and Kenny Rogers tunes at the top of our lungs and continually gave our parents a run for their money.
Now with both of us well into adulthood (though we typically don’t act it), she is one of my best friends, and I love her more than any other. 2007 brought a major change to my sister’s life. She gave birth to two beautiful twin girls, who are now close to five months old. I’ve had the joy of watching her transform into her role as mother. She loves her girls and is so tender with them. I feel my heart swell every time I watch her with them. The girls are blessed to have my sister as their mother, as I am blessed she is my sister. She loves them fiercely and will protect them always while allowing them to test the boundaries. She will nurture them into amazing human beings. (I would be negligent if I didn’t add that my brother-in-law is also a critical link of this equation. He’s a phenomenal dad.)
Here are some quotes that reflect my relationship with my sister:
“Is solace anywhere more comforting than in the arms of a sister.” ~Alice Walker
“If you don't understand how a woman could both love her sister dearly and want to wring her neck at the same time, then you were probably an only child.” ~Linda Sunshine
“A sister can be seen as someone who is both ourselves and very much not ourselves - a special kind of double.” ~Toni Morrison
“She is your mirror, shining back at you with a world of possibilities. She is your witness, who sees you at your worst and best, and loves you anyway. She is your partner in crime, your midnight companion, someone who knows when you are smiling, even in the dark. She is your teacher, your defense attorney, your personal press agent, even your shrink. Some days, she's the reason you wish you were an only child." ~Barbara Alpert
“One of the best things about being an adult is the realization that you can share with your sister and still have plenty for yourself." ~Betsy Cohen
Trust me, we weren’t always close. We had the typical, stereotypical love-hate sibling relationship growing up. As much as I loath to admit it, I was somewhat of a brat during the majority of our childhood (I know, you’re asking yourself, “only somewhat?”). I tell her that she’s a stronger person today from having suffered through all of those miserable moments and years of my bossiness and obnoxious behavior – she quickly adds that I just say that to make myself feel better. Perhaps she is correct. But as I’m the author here, I’ll stick by my line, even if it is my slightly romanticized, revisionist view of the past.
We successfully weathered a childhood and early adulthood where we sometimes got along, but were not particularly close. We lived our separate lives and journeyed forward more as acquaintances than friends. Though when we were young, there were times when we banded together against my parents – as a sister is the best person to serve as a partner in crime (of course, this differs from the times I set her up to get in trouble with our parents). In my memories, these distinctive moments of closeness usually occurred on our annual family vacations – which for those of you who don’t know our history, consisted of driving across the country with my parents exploring popular as well as out-of-the-way adventures. Our family vacations were typically two to three weeks, though our west coast adventure lasted five weeks and our Alaska trek nearly eight. On these trips, we had only each other and usually bickered less, much to my parents’ pure joy I’m assuming. We spent hours in the car reading, playing games, braiding yarn octopuses and driving my parents up the wall. We chased each other at the many campgrounds that we called our temporary homes. We slept head-to-head down the aisle of our van turned camper. We explored fabulous city blocks, trekked up mountainsides, played tag in campground pools, sang John Denver and Kenny Rogers tunes at the top of our lungs and continually gave our parents a run for their money.
Now with both of us well into adulthood (though we typically don’t act it), she is one of my best friends, and I love her more than any other. 2007 brought a major change to my sister’s life. She gave birth to two beautiful twin girls, who are now close to five months old. I’ve had the joy of watching her transform into her role as mother. She loves her girls and is so tender with them. I feel my heart swell every time I watch her with them. The girls are blessed to have my sister as their mother, as I am blessed she is my sister. She loves them fiercely and will protect them always while allowing them to test the boundaries. She will nurture them into amazing human beings. (I would be negligent if I didn’t add that my brother-in-law is also a critical link of this equation. He’s a phenomenal dad.)
Here are some quotes that reflect my relationship with my sister:
“Is solace anywhere more comforting than in the arms of a sister.” ~Alice Walker
“If you don't understand how a woman could both love her sister dearly and want to wring her neck at the same time, then you were probably an only child.” ~Linda Sunshine
“A sister can be seen as someone who is both ourselves and very much not ourselves - a special kind of double.” ~Toni Morrison
“She is your mirror, shining back at you with a world of possibilities. She is your witness, who sees you at your worst and best, and loves you anyway. She is your partner in crime, your midnight companion, someone who knows when you are smiling, even in the dark. She is your teacher, your defense attorney, your personal press agent, even your shrink. Some days, she's the reason you wish you were an only child." ~Barbara Alpert
“One of the best things about being an adult is the realization that you can share with your sister and still have plenty for yourself." ~Betsy Cohen
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Unconditional friendship
Inspiration and insight come from many sources, including literature. While rereading Anne Perry’s “Defend and Betray” (a great series about Victorian London detective William Monk), I came across this particularly discerning paragraph about the type of friend we all want to have and be:
“In fact there had been moments when he had felt a kind of friendship for her more totally honest than he had for anyone else…She saw him without any deluding mists of admiration, self-interest or fear for her own position, and there was something extraordinarily sweet and comfortable about a friend who knows you and accepts you at your worst, your most bitter, or defeated, who sees your emotional ugliness naked and is not afraid to call it by name, and yet does not turn from you or allow you to cease to struggle, who wills your survival as precious.”
We all want one friend who knows our best, our worst, our secrets, our celebrations, our tragedies, all our shades of gray and loves us anyway. We all deserve at least one friend of this caliber. And at the same time, we should aspire to be this type of friend to those who need us to be.
“In fact there had been moments when he had felt a kind of friendship for her more totally honest than he had for anyone else…She saw him without any deluding mists of admiration, self-interest or fear for her own position, and there was something extraordinarily sweet and comfortable about a friend who knows you and accepts you at your worst, your most bitter, or defeated, who sees your emotional ugliness naked and is not afraid to call it by name, and yet does not turn from you or allow you to cease to struggle, who wills your survival as precious.”
We all want one friend who knows our best, our worst, our secrets, our celebrations, our tragedies, all our shades of gray and loves us anyway. We all deserve at least one friend of this caliber. And at the same time, we should aspire to be this type of friend to those who need us to be.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
The odyssey that is my life
An odyssey is defined as "a long series of wanderings or adventures, especially when filled with notable experiences, hardships, etc." I think the last couple of years of my life could easily be categorized by this definition, including the notable experiences and the hardships.
I lost a love in 2007, and though it had been a couple of years since we had truly been in love with one another, it didn’t make the final decision any easier. It took us nearly two years of pain and tears and fighting and trying to admit that it was best for us both if we just let go of each other. We both deserve to be happy and to be with someone who loves us passionately and without abandon. I hope this is what each of us finds.
But 2007 also brought some unexpected surprises to my personal perspective. I had certain assumptions about what I wanted from my life and the path I was on, but someone came back into my life that completely turned those things upside down and startled my assumed outlook.
So as we start the new year, I find myself asking “what do I truly want from this life?” And though it may sound like the unrealistic musings of an idealistic romantic, what I want most is love. I want to fall in love with that one person about whom I can be incredibly passionate about, come home to every night, share the adventures and the pain, enjoy every day with. But I’m in no rush, or at least I’m trying not to be. It might be unrealistic, but I only want to fall in love one more time in my life. I want to take my time this time. Whoever the person is, we will both have so much to discover about one another. I think the journey is one of the most exciting parts of falling in love – though in the right relationship, the journey will be continuous across time.
I also have family and friends who love me unconditionally. It has taken me a long time to be able to really appreciate this. Over the last couple of years, there were long stretches of time where I was barely able to deal with my own pain and sorrow, and as a result, willingly cut myself off from them. They must love me a lot because they weathered my distancing and were right there when I was ready to come back.
The holiday season also reminds me of the loves that I’ve lost over the years, most notably, my grandparents. Most of my fondest memories as a child involve my them – long summer days wandering in the woods, climbing the pines with nothing but sticky hands to show for my accomplishment, Poptarts and Frosted Flakes for breakfast, watching episodes of Bonanza, the smell of my grandfather’s cigar, freezing winter nights being tucked into bed, the mysterious bird in the Christmas tree, swinging freely from the willow tree, riding on my grandfather’s lap as he pulls the tractor out of the barn, my grandmother showing me her treasures, playing hide-and-seek with my cousins. I often wish I could go back – maybe like the Ghost of Christmas Past but without the regret – and watch myself and my sister with them. Too often when I try to conjure up those precious memories, it’s harder to remember the lines on my grandfather’s face and the way it felt when he held me. I always felt safe and happy – feelings that are much harder to attain and maintain when you’re a grownup.
I often wonder if they would be proud of the person I’ve grown into. As sometimes it’s hard for me to be proud of all of my decisions over the years, I try and remember they loved me unconditionally as a child and would have continued to do so into adulthood.
So on this second day of 2008, I am hopeful for what lies ahead for me in the new year, but remind myself that I should – at the same time - be grateful for my past, as it is what has brought me to this day. It is time to turn the page and start a new chapter in my life, a new odyssey.
I lost a love in 2007, and though it had been a couple of years since we had truly been in love with one another, it didn’t make the final decision any easier. It took us nearly two years of pain and tears and fighting and trying to admit that it was best for us both if we just let go of each other. We both deserve to be happy and to be with someone who loves us passionately and without abandon. I hope this is what each of us finds.
But 2007 also brought some unexpected surprises to my personal perspective. I had certain assumptions about what I wanted from my life and the path I was on, but someone came back into my life that completely turned those things upside down and startled my assumed outlook.
So as we start the new year, I find myself asking “what do I truly want from this life?” And though it may sound like the unrealistic musings of an idealistic romantic, what I want most is love. I want to fall in love with that one person about whom I can be incredibly passionate about, come home to every night, share the adventures and the pain, enjoy every day with. But I’m in no rush, or at least I’m trying not to be. It might be unrealistic, but I only want to fall in love one more time in my life. I want to take my time this time. Whoever the person is, we will both have so much to discover about one another. I think the journey is one of the most exciting parts of falling in love – though in the right relationship, the journey will be continuous across time.
I also have family and friends who love me unconditionally. It has taken me a long time to be able to really appreciate this. Over the last couple of years, there were long stretches of time where I was barely able to deal with my own pain and sorrow, and as a result, willingly cut myself off from them. They must love me a lot because they weathered my distancing and were right there when I was ready to come back.
The holiday season also reminds me of the loves that I’ve lost over the years, most notably, my grandparents. Most of my fondest memories as a child involve my them – long summer days wandering in the woods, climbing the pines with nothing but sticky hands to show for my accomplishment, Poptarts and Frosted Flakes for breakfast, watching episodes of Bonanza, the smell of my grandfather’s cigar, freezing winter nights being tucked into bed, the mysterious bird in the Christmas tree, swinging freely from the willow tree, riding on my grandfather’s lap as he pulls the tractor out of the barn, my grandmother showing me her treasures, playing hide-and-seek with my cousins. I often wish I could go back – maybe like the Ghost of Christmas Past but without the regret – and watch myself and my sister with them. Too often when I try to conjure up those precious memories, it’s harder to remember the lines on my grandfather’s face and the way it felt when he held me. I always felt safe and happy – feelings that are much harder to attain and maintain when you’re a grownup.
I often wonder if they would be proud of the person I’ve grown into. As sometimes it’s hard for me to be proud of all of my decisions over the years, I try and remember they loved me unconditionally as a child and would have continued to do so into adulthood.
So on this second day of 2008, I am hopeful for what lies ahead for me in the new year, but remind myself that I should – at the same time - be grateful for my past, as it is what has brought me to this day. It is time to turn the page and start a new chapter in my life, a new odyssey.
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