Perhaps I spent too much time worrying. After all, it wasn’t my problem but I couldn’t seem to stop ministering to his lack of self-control. I care more than he ever did and in the end I divorced the bottle, not him.
Category Archives: honesty
A healthy debate to interpretate
15 CommentsSpelling mistake aside (because it is an inside joke), the subject line of this post refers, in both parts, to a lively conversation I was a part of at the dinner table last night. The age-old debate of whether men and women can really be friends circled around the table and the argument became quite animated. There was a noticeable divide between those who thought men and women could be friends and those who thought the dynamic of sexual, or chemical, energy disrupted any potential of a platonic relationship.
Since I have many cohorts of the male persuasion (sans benefits), I was vehemently arguing the fact that men and women can, indeed, be friends. And now, as I sit in my darkened living room writing this post, it is difficult to have a Star Trek movie in the background talking about “Nebular penetration” as I argue for the chastity of an idealistic friendship. However, it is a fitting continuation of my earlier conversation.
Perhaps I am slightly obtuse when it comes to reading signals, but I am relatively confident that I am able to decipher whether or not a man has intentions beyond a nonphysical affiliation. I have always had male friends and I have never had the slightest doubt that those male friends see me as just that, a friend. But some of my litigious dinner companions made every effort to dissuade me.
Our conversation became heated at times but we continued to volley the notion of platonic friendships back and forth until the strings on our metaphorical racquets unraveled. We eventually had to concede the match and nobody was declared the winner.
I came home with the same point of view I had during our impassioned debate. I truly believe that men and women can be friends – no strings, no ulterior motives, no hidden agendas. Convincing the others involved in that discussion may be a no-win situation but I will continue to maintain my opinion and defend it with all the intensity I can muster.
So now, I have to ask…..where do you stand on this debate? Can men and women just be friends?
There’s a nap for that
12 CommentsMost days our time is spent on routine tasks. We get up, we have coffee, we prepare ourselves (and possibly a family) for the approaching day and we leave the house, or not, with confidence as we anticipate the next eight to twelve hours of our lives. It seems like a standard operating procedure.
But life has a way of throwing a myriad number of curve balls into our otherwise predictable strike zone. It can be exhausting trying to anticipate what is coming next. By 3:00 pm, the wall looms directly ahead and we plow right into it.
There is much to be said for getting to the point in your life that admitting an afternoon nap is acceptable. It doesn’t make us old, it makes us smart. If you can afford yourself a bit of a break, a 2o-minute power snooze has been proven to boost your energy level, your cognitive skills, your creativity and your memory.
So the next time your boss catches you catching some z’s at your desk, you can simply tell that executive figure that you are clearly increasing your productivity in the workplace.
How do you feel about an afternoon siesta?
It’s all over
13 CommentsMy dad was a staunch believer in always giving 100 percent effort. His mantra played over and over in my head every time I wrote a test in school and every time I had to put any form of exertion into a task.
Somewhere along my journey through this life, that chant of success began to increase in volume and unwittingly seeped into every other aspect of my life. Sometimes it felt good and other times it felt more like punishment.
I began to take most things to a new level. And going overboard on simple achievements was just the beginning. Realizing I couldn’t attain perfection led me into a pattern of over-eating.
When the over-eating became much more noticeable, I began to over-analyze and over-think everything about the problem instead of just recognizing it for what it was and dealing with it head on.
Of all the things I do with the utmost intensity, over-thinking is the worst of them. I cannot seem to let what will be just be. My brain configures numerous scenarios, all with different outcomes, and will not stop when it should be satisfied. There is always another possibility. This is a fantastic gift to have when I am writing fiction but, when it comes to creating plot lines based on my reality, it is a detriment to normal productivity.
I expend a great effort each day to quell those thoughts. I could take an issue so benign and have it twisted into something so distorted from its original form that it becomes a gnarled version of what it once was and something so far removed from what it ever should be. If I could ever transfer these thoughts to pages of a novel, it would be quite the story.
For now, I will wait out the current situation that has me over-thinking. I will listen to those little voices as they churn out ending after ending but when I reach the point that I eventually find out what will really happen, the wait will be over.
Perched precariously on the fence
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This is a lofty spot,
this place where I find myself.
I am currently balanced for fear of falling,
but this is a spot I find hauntingly familiar.
There is no right or wrong,
only what is best for me.
And whatever side I choose,
wherever I decide to plant my feet,
that is the direction I was meant to follow.
I can only believe in my truth,
that I cannot make any progress in my life
without making the decision to pick a side.
And once that decision is made,
that fence will no longer seem like an obstacle,
but merely an arrow.
The good, the bad and the truth
7 CommentsHow quickly we lose our tenuous grasp on the things that used to seem so simple. How fleetly we relinquish our grip. How easily we let go of the reins only to watch those reins get wrapped up in the wheels of the coach we struggle to maintain control of as we steer ourselves into our future.
In those rare moments in our lives, in the moments when we think we can marginally and genuinely separate the good from the bad, the truth will always do its best to expedite that process. We are fools to think that we can fool ourselves. And although good and bad are formidable opponents, the truth will always come out the victor.
Knowing our truth may sometimes feel like nothing more than a burden. We may carry it with us, hidden under a shroud of secrecy, hoping that it remains hidden. But eventually that truth becomes transparent, if not to others at least, to ourselves. And in that moment, in that split second when we realize we can no longer pull the wool over our own eyes, the pressure of that burden no longer holds any weight.
Suddenly the reins are back in our hands. That feeling of losing control is replaced by a new calm and the knowledge that everything that seemed to be bad can be good again. The truth did, indeed, give us a sense of freedom and the moment we began believing in that truth, our change was inevitable.
Dealing with the good and the bad in ourselves is human nature. That concept evolved long before we began our journey through this lifetime. But being able to recognize the truth, to embrace the strength and the weakness that brought us to our truth, is the genuine definition of our character.
True strength is not measured by physical endurance alone. True strength does sweat, it does bleed. But it also cries, accepts, forgives and heals. True strength inspires us to be better and, somewhere along that rugged path, our truth can inspire others as well. #mjs
The unraveling
12 CommentsThese are the words I needed today……
They usually mean well…..
5 CommentsPeople do strange things when they are under stress. In the worst case scenario, their judgement is clouded and their choices are made without the benefit of having time to weigh the pros and cons to be able to formulate an informed decision.
On the odd occasion, people have very good intentions but they have terrible execution. Although they may have a reasonable amount of time to assess a situation, their emotions cloud their abilities to think clearly and they make bad choices. Their objective becomes distorted and they lose sight of the most important part of the predicament with which they are faced. It is a simple human error and one that could be so easily avoided.
Conversation is the backbone of any relationship and honesty is the tissue that protects that backbone. With neither of those things, human affinities will never have the strength to stand on their own. There is much to be said for direct communication. And, even if the exchange of information is uncomfortable, it is a necessary tool to build a strong foundation of trust and understanding.
For the most part, people do mean well. There are moments when they lose themselves in trying desperately to find a solution without first understanding the entirety of the situation. Their concern impairs their objectivity and they believe that they are acting in the best way possible. But sometimes, they just need to take a moment to breathe – to step back and think to themselves “how would I want someone to react if I were in that situation?”. And just maybe that one small step backwards will take them leaps and bounds ahead of where they were.
You can’t have too much of a good thing
2 CommentsI thought I would have an overwhelming sense of guilt about my day yesterday. But the truth is, I do not. I hadn’t deviated from any plan of what I should have been doing but, instead, forged ahead with my original intention and spent the majority of the day on my couch binge-watching the remaining episodes of Breaking Bad on Netflix. There, I said it….I’m out.
I did manage to feed myself the required meals to sustain my ability to swear at the screen and I did tend to my puppy dog, as the job did seem obligatory. But any task outside of those parameters took a back seat and I was glued to the screen.
As the credits rolled and I waited for the next episode to begin, I had to face the harsh reality as the screen changed to the standard Netflix screen and not the profile of the characters I have come to know so well. No longer would I be captivated by Walter White and his transformation from meek Chemistry teacher to the tower of greed and felonious intentions that he slowly became. I had to call it – time of death, 10:39 pm.
I will slowly acclimate to the reality I once knew. My blog will learn to recognize me once again. My Kindle will be dusted off and my vacuum will feel the familiar touch of my hands as I learn to live my old life. I’m sure my friends will vaguely recall what my voice sounds like once I pick up the phone to re-establish contact. I just hope I can remember not to call them all “bitch”.
Holding on to strength
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“Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow, it empties today of its strength.”
― Corrie Ten Boom
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It is easy to tell someone not to worry. I am guilty of doing that very thing on an extremely frequent basis and in many different circumstances. Recently, I have become much more aware of how redundant that statement can be and how little it does to alleviate the concern of the person doing the worrying.
Worry is a big part of the human condition. We spend countless hours stressing about the things we cannot foresee, cannot control and cannot change. We are designed to be thinkers, to be problem-solvers, and in those brief moments that we are left without an answer or a contingency plan we submerge under the waves of the unknown.
For as much as I try to not unsettle myself with things out of my control, today was a glaring reminder of how quickly worry can overtake us and truly drain us of our strength. There is a small path in the carpet in my office where I paced back and forth. There is an emptiness in my stomach where nourishment should have found its place, but didn’t. And there is a dull ache in my temple from the inescapable habit of clenching my jaw when I am apprehensive.
Today worry was the cat and I was the feeble mouse. I was victim to its cunning and could do nothing more than to hide in the metaphorical corner and play dead, hoping that the insidious predator would leave me alone.
Now I sit, writing this post with a slightly more peaceful feeling than I had earlier today. Worry still beckons, the concerns of tomorrow still evident, but it holds much less power now than it did earlier today. I have regained some of my tenacity so I can face tomorrow with a new courage.
Worry may be strong but I am stronger.
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image credit: Worry by Zdralea Ioana – http://www.fineartamerica.com
polysyllabic profundities 