Empathy

I genuinely try to understand people and empathize with them. Even if I initially think I disagree with a viewpoint, I pride myself in the ability to listen and put aside my preconceptions. I do not profess to understand everyone and everything, but I do try. It disturbs me when I can't seem to fathom someone and his or thought process at all. I would call these people ignorant, but that would make me ignorant.

The World . . .

. . . is your kaleidoscope

-1984

The Speed of Life

The Problem:

Rushing and racing and running in circles
Moving so fast I'm forgetting my purpose
Blur of the traffic is sending me spinning
Getting nowhere

Sometimes I fear that I might disappear
In the blur of fast forward I falter again
Forgetting to breathe
I need to sleep
I'm getting nowhere

The Solution:

Slow me down
Don't let me live a lie
Before my life flies by
I need you to slow me down

The noise of the world is getting me caught up
Chasing the clock and I wish I could stop it
Just need to breathe
Somebody please
Slow me down

-Slow Me Down Emmy Rossum

The Dilemma:

Time is relative,
construction of mankind, yet
the clock strikes midnight.

-Haiku written by yours truly

Somber

Sometimes, I sound dark and gloomy and depressed when I blog. Please, allow me to redeem the murkiness of my soul. Yes, a small portion of me is solemn. But, the majority of my soul is joyful, jovial, and rapturous.

I can't even tell you how much I savor simply being alive. Every day holds extraordinary possibility, and I relish that potential. I love life.

1. I love the contrast of extreme dry heat and uninterrupted sun verse cool, clear water. I love striding the line between the two.

2. I love full moons in starry skies. I love when I wake up in the middle of the night and a patch of moonlight lies on my floor. I curl up in the whiteness and stare at the moon until I fall asleep.

3. I love being barefoot. I love the freedom I feel when my feet experience raw ground.

4. I love laughing until I can't make a sound. I like it when my stomach is sore the next day.

5. I love it when people smile at me for no reason at all.

6. I love it when I'm reading and suddenly things start to click, so I write furiously and read some more and write, and then stop and think. And it all starts to make sense, and I read and I write and I think, and the more I do this, the more excited I become. I feel bigger, stronger, and more complete for what I've come to know, even if it is a realization of how little I matter-- because I know it.

7. I love food. I love eating. I love tasting something and distinguishing flavors while enjoying the dish as a whole. Food is an experience.

8. I love being loved. It is a rare feeling. I mean, I feel liked often. But, there are only a few moments where I've known and felt the mutual love between me and one other soul. And we both just knew. And it was beautiful.

9. I love solitude. I love taking hikes alone and observing the beauty of the earth and it's inhabitants.

10. I love people: their goals their dreams and idiosyncrisies. I am intriged by their infinitely diverse patterns of thought and philosophies about their lives and about the universe.

Time After Time

Some people picture me
I seem to be far ahead
They call to me
I can't hear what they've said
They say--you're there
I know the truth
Oh how I envy you

If you're lost
You can look
But you won't find me--
I am lost too

If you fall
I can't catch you
I wish I could wait--
But I'm down by you

When the book is open
And the pages separate
You'll see the scrawling
And know the confused puzzling
Certain darkness
That makes me blind
The lies remain so tight

Time after time

Things I Am Certain Of

1.

Library Lady

Context: the other day I was at the front desk of the library, checking out my books and picking up some items that I'd requested. I received a notification earlier that they were available for pickup.

MaryAnne: "Hello."
Library Lady: takes books
M: fishes around for card
LL: stares at MaryAnne
M: hands over card
LL: scans card. "You have a fine of $2.55"
M: "I don't have any bills, but I have some change." pulls coins out of wallet.
LL: "Ugh. You don't have to pay now."
M: "No, really, I have some right here."
LL: "You don't have to pay now."
M: "Well here's a start." hands over money
LL: rolls eyes "40 cents?!! Ugh." goes to register. Sighs.
LL: scans books "Do you want a receipt?"
M: "No, but I believe I have some items on hold that are ready to pick up."
LL: "You don't."
M: "Wha . . . are you sure?"
LL: "Yes."
M: "But I--"
LL: "You don't."
M: "I recieved a noti--"
LL: "--you have no items to pick up. Do you want a receipt?"
M: "No."
LL: shoves books across counter
M: "Thank y--"
LL: "NEXT!"

Ha. I don't post this because I was mad or anything. I just wonder. Why? What made library lady do that? Ahh, the mysteries of the mind. Let's give her the benefit of the doubt. Her contacts must have been scratchy, the register sticks every time it's opened, and the computer request system is faulty. Okay, she's clear, but at the same time, is she? She's human, she makes mistakes, she has bad days, slipups. But I'm human too, do I always deserve to be treated as such. As a true equal? Do I deserve that same benefit of the doubt?

Go Figure

Checklist for Hidden Anger

• A liking for sadistic or ironic humor.


• Sarcasm, cynicism or flippancy in conversation.


• Frequent sighing.


• over politeness, constant cheerfulness, attitude of "grin and bear it".


• Smiling while hurting.


• Over-controlled monotone speaking voice


• Slowing down of movements.


• Getting drowsy at inappropriate times.


• Facial tics, spasmodic foot movements, habitual fist clenching and similar repeated physical acts done unintentionally or unaware.


• Procrastination in the completion of imposed tasks.


• Perpetual or habitual lateness.
  

Yeah, I like stumbleupon.com a lot--came across this today. I meet 12 of the 19 signs for hidden anger . . . I'm still trying to figure out what I'm secretly mad about. . .

The site also offered some helpful, safe strategies for relieving my unidentified anger, such as:

• PUNCH PILLOWS


• LIE FLAT FACE DOWN ON THE BED, SCREAM INTO THE PILLOW AND BEAT THE MATTRESS WITH YOUR FISTS.


• STAMP AROUND THE ROOM PUNCHING AIR WITH YOUR FISTS AND SAY, "I’M ANGRY" OVER AND OVER.


• WRITE A LIST OF "I’M ANGRY BECAUSE..." STATEMENTS.


• BEAT THE BED WITH A RACQUET OR BAT.


• BUY CROCKERY FROM CHARITY SHOPS AND SMASH IT IN A SAFE PLACE (BEWARE OF LYING PIECES).


• TURN UP THE MUSIC REALLY LOUDLY (INDOOR, IN CAR...) AND SCREAM OR SHOUT.


• IF YOU CAN GET TO A DESERTED BEACH OR MOUNTAIN, YOU CAN SCREAM YOU
  HEART OUT.


• DO AEROBICS, VISUALISING PUNCHING AND KICKING THE ABUSER.


• GET AGGRESSIVE WITH THE VACUUM CLEANER.


• SLAM DOORS AND POUND UP THE STAIRS NOISILY


• WRITE A LETTER TO YOUR ABUSER - TRY BEGINNING WITH "I HATE YOU".


• SPEAK OUT IN ANGER TO THOSE AROUND YOU.


• CREATE AN ANGER RITUAL EG. BURNING AN EFFIGY OF THE ABUSER.


• DANCE AN ANGER DANCE.

The Fool

No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous--
Almost, at times, the Fool.

-T.S. Eliot

I am the fool, but J. Alfred Prufrock gives me hope because he promises there is time:

Time for you and time for me,

And time yet for a hundred indecisions,

And for a hundred visions and revisions,

Before taking the toast and tea.

But I cannot believe the man who does not practice his own religion. Despite his optimism and false hope; time is short and pain is real, and I am scared--a fool indeed, of my own creation.

With Purer Intentions than to Simply Burlesque

Sometimes it's detrimental and insensitive to laugh at the misfortunes of others and oneself. However, I appreciate those who can make light of dismal situations--and those who can make the best of them.

Black Sheep are Still Sheep

If one desires to be different, isn't he just the same as everyone else?

It's Not Who, but What

How far do our natural tendencies extend? Where do the effects of our environments end and the effects of our choices begin? When people say they are being true to themselves, who are they being true to? Their natural inner selves, or their values? Or is the entire thing just a fabrication? Is one qualified to tell others who he or she is? How could one ever know?

Sometimes I just wonder what it's like:

-to be tall. High heels don't cut it. I want to know what it's like to wish I was shorter, for once, and be good at basketball, just because I could shoot over everyone else's head and get every rebound as long as I was in position

-to be the best at something. To be like this violinist who couldn't find music that was difficult enough for him, so he wrote his own. I want to know what it feels like to serve 156 mph.

-to have everyone in the world mad at me. Not for an extended period of time. Just maybe, like 2 hours. I just want to know.

-to speak three different languages. I know a seven year old who can do this. He speaks Korean, English, and Spanish fluently. I speak English decently, and after 3 years of espanol, I can say colors, numbers, and animals. I want to know what it's like to switch between three different dialects without thinking about it.

-to not have red hair. Don't get me wrong, I love my hair, but everywhere I go, people are complimenting it, and telling me stories about how their best friend or daughter or son has red hair too, and it's cool, but what would I be like without it?