Category Archives: understand yourself

Fragments of myself

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I have been reflecting a lot lately – looking back at the phases of my life where I defined myself in terms of my relationships with other people.  I even introduced myself with those titles.  I was always a daughter, a sister, a step-mom, a wife (now ex-wife) and it has only been recently that I have begun to describe myself in terms of who I really am – me.

All of those monikers are still a big part of who I am, or was, but they are only pieces of my bigger puzzle.  I have found new ways to describe myself that truly incorporate the essence of me and not just how my being relates to other people.  After years of missing the most integral part of who I am, I have found the proper words to define myself.

puzzle-pieces

(image credit: loridennis.com)

In the past, I had deconstructed myself and put smaller pieces of me into everyone else’s puzzle.  I was happy to be the daughter or the sister.  I didn’t feel lost nor did I feel any sense of being an incomplete person.  I merely slipped into the shadows of the lives around me.  I became an extension of them and the fault of that circumstance was all mine.

After many months of contemplative thought I have become aware of a new sense of self – a confidence to simply extend my hand and introduce myself with only my name.  There is no longer a follow-up delineation of how I relate to anyone other than myself.  I am, in the simplest of definitions, me.

Those fragments of myself constitute a big part of my life but they are no longer words I use to acquaint myself with anyone new in my life.  Eventually those pieces of my puzzle will fall into their rightful place but that place is not the definition of who I am.

Don’t rain on my parade

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You get the sensation – the sudden feeling of elation.  The world seems to rotate on an axis to simply line all of your stars in the perfect cosmic placement.  The sky seems to be saturated with a deeper hue of blue, the air seems crisper and more full of promise than you ever remember and you find yourself smiling for no particular reason.  Things are finally going your way.

And then it happens.  One person, and it only ever takes one, says something to make you doubt the happiness that you are feeling and that balloon of contentment bursts.  Random pieces of that blissful moment lay in tatters at your feet, the skies mottle and the heavens open up to rain on your parade.

It’s a perverse world we live in when we can let others dictate what should make us happy.  The moments that cause us to smile uncontrollably should be locked in a private vault, only to be shared with precious few that will understand the true feelings behind that blissful expression.   True happiness is a rare discovery and those that are fortunate to have found it should not have that perception marred by the opinions of anyone other than themselves.

Your steadfast belief in what truly makes you happy cannot be argued – by anyone.  It is your head, it is your heart and it is your soul that leads you to true euphoria.  Always carry an umbrella, and don’t let anyone rain on your parade.

The opposite of hello

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goodbye

“How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.” ~ A.A. Milne

~

I write this post through swollen eyes and saturated shirt sleeves.  Tonight while watching a scripted episode of a television show I witnessed a group of friends bid farewell to, not only a fellow cast member but, a confidant, a lover and a friend.  And although it was scripted, it was a heart-wrenching hour that brought any of the goodbyes I have ever experienced bubbling to the surface of my emotions because it was a genuine farewell to a person who will no longer be in their day-to-day realities.  The poignant words of the writing team were presented with a deep honesty because the melancholy was sincere and the pain was palpable.

Anyone who has lost someone can relate to the despair I am currently feeling.  Memories of the anguish I felt in the moments of my own losses came flooding back and I envisioned the struggle I endured to force myself to change the definition of those bonds.  I cried for their pain and I cried for my own pain.  The most difficult part of saying goodbye is knowing that you had something remarkable in your life and it was taken away before you were ready to part ways.

Living through a loss is inevitable.  We can never fully prepare ourselves for the roller coaster of emotion that follows that loss. Death is hardest on those left here to endure the sadness.  It is a closed door that can never be opened again but I hold strong to the faith that what lies beyond that closed door is filled with happy memories and moments that can be cherished by watching the movie of the life they lived.  

The bonds we have with those who have left us still remain.  The parameters of that relationship may have been vastly altered but the connections we have still exist.  We have memories to cherish and, in time, reminiscing will make that goodbye a little less painful and allow the happy memories to outweigh the grief.

Something wicked this way comes

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Intuition is a perplexing thing.  Our body is a natural conduit for energy and that energy has an odd but effective way of giving us warning signs that danger is lurking.   The witches in Macbeth described the feeling as a pricking in their thumbs.  We may feel it when the hair on the nape of our neck stands at attention but the premise is the same.  Our gut is sending a message that our brain cannot ignore.

Usually we can’t understand the visceral reaction to a certain circumstance but we have to put our faith in its validity.  That little voice gets very vocal when it feels imminent danger and usually that voice is spot on.  Everyone is born with the gift of intuition but it is how we heed the wisdom of that instinctive feeling that is of great benefit to us.

That moment when something wicked does actually come may be completely averted by listening to those nagging doubts in our mind.  Those doubts exist for a reason.  There is a power far beyond some people’s belief or comfort level that aids in our self-preservation.   That terse glance over our shoulder, the quickening of our step while walking in the dark – both may feel cryptic and unnecessary but listening to those pestering whispers may help us avoid an uncomfortable situation.

That intuition may also have altruistic applications.  The stirring in our senses does not always represent peril but could also put us on the path to good fortune.  The Yin and Yang of those intuitive forces can also help us make decisions for our benefit and not just our physical longevity.   Our lives are based on choices and that same power of perception can guide us through those choices and help us discover the best path for our journey.

My thumbs do not become prickly, nor does the hair stand up on my neck.  I get goosebumps, and that chicken skin that was once my flesh has never steered me wrong.  Hopefully when something wicked this way really does come, I will be the human version of Foghorn Leghorn, plucked and covered with a road map of goose-flesh to guide me to safety.

Over forty and feelin’ fine

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Age can be a fickle creature.  Being over forty has radically affected the way I eat and what I choose to ingest.  I began a new, healthy lifestyle two years ago – no more processed food, nothing that I thought could harm my body.   If I can’t pronounce the ingredients, they are not a part of my food selection.  Those simple four and five syllable additives that I thought were harmless were doing my body a supreme injustice.

Once I made the decision that I, and I alone, would be the only one to create the ingredients I absorbed and not rely on pre-packaged meals, I immediately noticed a spike in my energy.  My body was not wasting precious moments of efficiency trying to break down those foreign particles I had been ingesting for so long and figuring out where to store them if they were unbreakable.  Because my body was only required to process real foods that it recognized and could break down easily, it affected not only my weight but my skin and my general sense of well-being.

We have to know our bodies, know what is a normal feeling and what should send up red flags in our comfort level.  If you are in your fourth or fifth decade, your body will start to turn on you.  That truth is inevitable.  The foods that you loved for oh so long, will become the enemy.  Those pre-packaged meals that are so convenient to buy are conveniently stored in your fat cells because your body will not recognize the preserving ingredients as food. There will be more of a discomfort after eating and there will be a general feeling of lethargy.

As we age, our food choices become far more important.  I am now very cognizant of not only the ingredients, but the foods themselves.  Natural foods serve a greater purpose than just nourishing our bodies.  The correct foods can help stabilize our blood sugars and ensure that our organs are working to their optimal level.

With my 45th birthday creeping around the corner, I must strive to maintain these ideals.   Sure, there is the occasional misstep in the new food regime (especially during the summer), but I am made painfully aware by my body that I made a bad choice.  There will be things I refuse to give up – like my morning coffee – but I have replaced a few of those cups of Joe with water and lemon.  I have fallen off the food wagon a few times over the last few months and my body has sent nasty reminders making me all too aware of my bad choices.

Aging is unavoidable but now that I have learned to listen to what my body wants and needs, I am going to give everything I have to make that process last as long as possible.   The lemon is in the water and the whole foods await.  Bon appetit!!

Don’t believe everything you think

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My brain plays tricks on me.  It sometimes deceives me into believing falsities that are so far from the truth it’s astounding.  I have a real knack for over-thinking, for seeing things unlike they really are and for creating sub-realities of truths I believe to be factual.

I am not delusional by any means, but I read too far into the most minute of details and things affect me on a much grander scale than they should.  If I forget to do something at work, I obsess over how it will affect my fellow employees when, in truth, it is a minor hiccup in the larger air pocket of the day.  I will churn words over and over again in my head – words that escaped my lips and perhaps fell on deaf ears, but words that I wish I would have said differently.  I over-think how those words could have been presented although time has already marched over those words and left them behind,  buried in the footprints of the past.

brain_on_fire

(image credit: salon.com)

In this regard, I am my own worst enemy.  Or at least the firing neurons in my thought processes are my worst enemy.  I must not believe everything I think.  I must learn that perspective is an individual thing and not everyone sees or hears the things I do in the same way.  I read too much into people’s reactions.  I over-analyze every word until those words are beaten into submission, yet they still torture me in my sleep and continue to hover above my pillow in my waking hours.

I am on a crusade to teach myself to let those things go – to not dwell on the things I cannot change and to accept things at face value.  The drama will continue to play on in my head but I must remember to not believe everything I think.

Don’t be an echo

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Entering into the blogging community, I knew there would be a myriad of voices – voices that expounded opinions from many points of the spectrum of language, voices that wanted to speak and voices that yearned to be heard.

Each post that is put into the blogosphere has the ability to change the conversation and each writer’s voice is unique.  The joy of reading these blogs is that it opens the mind to different possibilities.  No one voice is the same, yet every string of words that is written has the ability to deeply influence its reader and affect their perception of those words.

Conformity in the writing world is blasphemy – challenging the parameters is a requirement.  If your writing sets you apart from others, whether it be your content or your writing style, your words are exclusive.  Many writers may tackle the same subject but each mind gives an unparalleled view and invites the reader into their perception of reality.

The writing Gods, or demons (depending on the hour of day that you are incessantly tapping at your keyboard), are relentless.  They wake you from unadulterated slumber, they seep into your dreams and they shadow you during your waking hours.  They infiltrate your thoughts and transport you into a world of possibility.  No two writers will ever have the same journey.

Telling a writer to change their style of writing is like telling a leopard to change its spots.  Those spots define that creature and the words on the page mark the individuality of the writer.  Speak up, writers.  Speak up and let your voice be heard.  Be your own voice and not an echo.   An echo is only an imitation and if you have things to say, say it your way.

(The Echo Amphitheatre in New Mexico- photo credit ~ vivanewmexico.com)

More than merely notes on a page

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“Without music, life would be a mistake.” ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

I could live the rest of my life without television, but take music from me and you may as well send me into my next incarnation.  Music has a way of taking what was wrong and making it right.

After a long day the right song choice is the consummate escape to find my way back to myself.  Closing the car door in the office parking lot, starting the engine and letting that perfect song selection caress my mind is such a welcome close to any hectic day.

When you find inspiring music and let it seep into your soul, it’s much more than just listening to a song.  Those notes and harmonies can take you out of your current existence and transport you to a new state of being.  The songs become so much more than notes on a page, they become transcendent.

notes on a page

I have a very eclectic compilation of music that I enjoy and, each day that I want to peel back the layers of my hectic life and just relax, the song is never the same.  My diverse taste allows me a greater freedom in finding that right choice to help assuage the tension of every day life.  Those varying notes in that array of genres is the portfolio of my relaxation and escape.

I don’t ever defend my vast taste in music, I embrace it.  I am never at a loss for a tune that will suit the moment I am in, and that gives me a contented feeling.  My music can match any mood and any circumstance, and I will never be afraid to admit the extreme sides to my play list.

Recently that melodic portal of liberation has been opened by the beautiful tones of four soulful voices provided by The Tenors.  Music will always have a soothing quality but when you find the right blend of melody and harmony the result is an emotionally soothing journey.  My goal is to meet these four Canadian boys!

Music is much more than just notes on a page.  Music is a memory. Music is a feeling.  Music is the collection of notes at the heart of your soul.

The Commish is back in the house

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I am a Canadian who admittedly can’t watch the CFL although I am a football fanatic.  The culmination of my love of football was derived from years of watching the NFL.  My parents were Hamilton Ti-Cat fans, but I was always drawn to American Football and my love of the rules of the National Football League.

Hail Mary has much meaning for me, although I am not a religious person.  The tension on the field, the true grit of play and the excitement of the game has a hold on me that I have not yet been able to explain.  And I will vehemently negate any arguments that I watch the game for the tight pants.  I know the rules.  I know the game.  And during the NFL season, I eat, sleep and breathe football.

football

Once the season begins I yearn for Sundays.  If I am not working, I am comfortably ensconced in my living room watching the pre-game shows until the 1:00 kick off.  I can spend 10 hours in my living room yelling obscenities at my 46″ monitor and loving every second of the game. (I’m sure there are meetings for this!)

My love of the sport may have morphed into a slight obsession.  I took over a football pool about 10 years ago that had 15 participants.  Last year we topped the participation with 65 people at $250.00 each for the entry fee.  It was a busy season but time that I truly enjoyed spending creating spreadsheets and announcing the winners of each week.  Having 65 people picking 13 to 16 games a week is like having a second job, but one I would not give up.  My nickname during the football season is “The Commish” and it is a moniker I hold onto with great pride.

I have just sent my first email of the year to round up people to participate in the 2013 / 2014 football pool and I feel like a kid waiting to go to Disneyland.  The spreadsheets are set for another year and pre-season is around the corner.  The Chargers roster is pumped and ready to do me proud this year.  My jerseys are hanging in my closet and I eagerly anticipate the kick-off to the Hall of Fame Game on August 4th.

I am about to put the laptop to bed and watch The Replacements.  Although Keanu Reeves is not the best actor in the world, it is one of my favorite football movies and I need to get back into “Commish-mode”.  It’s 4th and 1 on the 1 yard line and I’m about to take the snap.  Hut, hut.

Don’t hate the haters

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There will always be people out there with nothing but negative energy.  They hate their job, they hate where they live and they take that bitterness into every moment of their day.  They hate us for being positive.  So why should we reciprocate and send that hate back to them for being haters?

We can’t hate the haters.  Being around negative people makes me want to be even more positive than I already am.  It’s better to be hated for who you are instead of being loved for who you are not.  Nothing annoys a hater more than your forgiveness. They seek conflict and if they don’t get it, they will just hate you more.

hater

There is a fine balance in the world and we struggle to maintain that level with every ounce of positive energy we have.  Being around people who constantly have that dark cloud hovering over them motivates me to make a conscious effort to keep my mood light and happy.

I’m not going to lie and tell you I haven’t had moments of immense dislike within me, but I choose to rise above that venom that can penetrate the soul and find the lesson in the situation that caused that hatred in the first place.  My mother always said “it takes all kinds to make the world go round” and I now know what she meant.  If it weren’t for the haters, we wouldn’t be able to appreciate being the lovers.

We need to learn to rise above that feeling of hate and figure out what that anger is teaching us.  The haters will never have that perspective but we can motivate ourselves to see beyond the malevolence that bubbles within us and move beyond the hate.

Appreciate the haters for teaching us how much better it is to love and be happy.  Life is short – appreciate every second of it and don’t waste it being angry.  I don’t ever want to look back on my life and say I wasted a single moment dwelling on a feeling that didn’t make my life better.