My baby child is away for the summer, work is unchallenging--I have no distractions from my utter boredom. I'm in a place in my life where I should have good friends that I am dying to go see, go on weekend adventures with my husband, or learn how to garden and walk my dog. But none of those things are a part of my life.
Old friends from the bank are not around anymore, because I don't have anything interesting to contribute to a conversation--no funny customer anecdotes, no griping about corporate life. I don't have any work friends in the job I have now.
My husband and I can't think of anything to do that doesn't involve spending money (which we don't have) or that wouldn't be utterly boring to the other one. I don't really want to drag him through Hobby Lobby or sit in the truck while he rattlesnake hunts.
I try to get into the maintenance and décor of my home, but it is a rental, so I can't really do what I want and I don't want to put too much energy into someone else's equity. I've been looking for a new place to rent, because I think the destroyed relationship between Darrell and the landlord will land us an eviction notice some day. But for the money we are spending now, I haven't spotted anything that would increase our square footage or put us in a better position. And I don't want to make Shelby switch schools.
So, I am bored. Under stimulated. I hate summer.
Sunday, July 5, 2015
Wednesday, April 1, 2015
Birth
April is my birthday. Thirty-one. Ouch, where did 30 go? Thirty has really been a year of ups and downs. I am working in a job that is way different than before and it doesn't suck up all of my mental and emotional energy. But I miss the obsession that accompanied my old line of work--constant challenge, constant analyzing. My marriage has been through an extremely difficult year. But we are still here and still trying. My daughter is growing up and is an amazing person--she has been taking on new things like karate and art and research. Is this the life of a person in their 30s?
I would like more in the rest of my 30s.
MORE.
Of EVERYTHING.
More love, more insight, more patience, more peace, more time, more depth, more clarity, more truth, more learning, just more.
I would like more in the rest of my 30s.
MORE.
Of EVERYTHING.
More love, more insight, more patience, more peace, more time, more depth, more clarity, more truth, more learning, just more.
Sunday, March 1, 2015
Static
My home space is filled with polished surfaces. At least, my surfaces are polished.
I don't feel the need to express an opinion on the little things--yes, it annoys me when the dryer is put on the timer settings instead of the pre-programmed options, but is it an opinion really worth expressing? I don't think so. Petty things like that lead to constant bickering and arguing about nothing. They take up time that I am not willing to spend. So, I let things go and don't worry about them.
But that also means that I have a tendency to let big things go without comment as well. Because it is a rare argument that I find a good use of time. It is so wasteful and hurtful and not worth my tears and blood pressure. I'm not trying to paint myself as a martyr that suffers in silence, but as someone who will just shut that anger or pain into a box in my heart or mind and not think about it.
I could analyze and explain why I am the way I am--a peacemaker or a neutral, because of the way I was raised, or the lessons I have learned or the people who have hurt me. But it doesn't matter why--it is wonderful to see where the roots of behavior come from so that you can understand your motivations. But it doesn't change what I am doing. And I don't really care the reasons why other people do what they do--it doesn't change the wrong that has been done.
We all are responsible for our behavior, even if your daddy was mean, or you've been through bad relationships. Learn what you were supposed to learn and own your behavior. If you didn't learn anything, then that says something about you, too.
And that, I think, is an opinion worth expressing. Being authentic is the only way you become a more complete person. Why else are we here?
I don't feel the need to express an opinion on the little things--yes, it annoys me when the dryer is put on the timer settings instead of the pre-programmed options, but is it an opinion really worth expressing? I don't think so. Petty things like that lead to constant bickering and arguing about nothing. They take up time that I am not willing to spend. So, I let things go and don't worry about them.
But that also means that I have a tendency to let big things go without comment as well. Because it is a rare argument that I find a good use of time. It is so wasteful and hurtful and not worth my tears and blood pressure. I'm not trying to paint myself as a martyr that suffers in silence, but as someone who will just shut that anger or pain into a box in my heart or mind and not think about it.
I could analyze and explain why I am the way I am--a peacemaker or a neutral, because of the way I was raised, or the lessons I have learned or the people who have hurt me. But it doesn't matter why--it is wonderful to see where the roots of behavior come from so that you can understand your motivations. But it doesn't change what I am doing. And I don't really care the reasons why other people do what they do--it doesn't change the wrong that has been done.
We all are responsible for our behavior, even if your daddy was mean, or you've been through bad relationships. Learn what you were supposed to learn and own your behavior. If you didn't learn anything, then that says something about you, too.
And that, I think, is an opinion worth expressing. Being authentic is the only way you become a more complete person. Why else are we here?
Monday, January 19, 2015
Forgiveness
I tend to think of forgiveness in a large sense. Will God forgive me for the mistakes I make? Will the Universe understand and move on? And my answer is always yes--my God is one who forgives all you have ever done and all you will ever do. The Universe is not one to let petty human trifling bring it to a stop.
But I don't have the omnipotence of a god; and I don't have the vastness of perspective of the Universe. I cannot see passed my own circumstance. I can't put the past into a box and seal it away and call it bygone. When I am forced to think about forgiving in my own everyday life, I don't know where to draw it from.
There have been a few people I have truly forgiven. I forgave my dad for being a terrible father--it took many years and came from being tired of being angry. The years wore down my resolve. I had to try to get to know him as just a person and try to love him for precisely what he was and not long for all that he was not. I forgave my daughter's dad--it took many years, many miles and starting new chapters in my life. I also knew that I would have to interact with him for many years to come and if I didn't find a way to forgive, I would make my daughter suffer at any event that was important. And I love her more than I love myself.
And there have been many that I haven't forgiven, but simply forgotten and let them slip into the memory of the past. It is easier that way. Easier to let go and just say goodbye than to face the conflict and questions.
Do I forgive because I am too tenacious to give up? Because walking away and starting again poses too much of a task at this point in my life. Because I want to be the bigger person. Because I am selfish. Or because I have really dealt with my feelings and moved passed them. Because I love my husband more than I love my pride. Or maybe none; maybe I can't.
But I don't have the omnipotence of a god; and I don't have the vastness of perspective of the Universe. I cannot see passed my own circumstance. I can't put the past into a box and seal it away and call it bygone. When I am forced to think about forgiving in my own everyday life, I don't know where to draw it from.
There have been a few people I have truly forgiven. I forgave my dad for being a terrible father--it took many years and came from being tired of being angry. The years wore down my resolve. I had to try to get to know him as just a person and try to love him for precisely what he was and not long for all that he was not. I forgave my daughter's dad--it took many years, many miles and starting new chapters in my life. I also knew that I would have to interact with him for many years to come and if I didn't find a way to forgive, I would make my daughter suffer at any event that was important. And I love her more than I love myself.
And there have been many that I haven't forgiven, but simply forgotten and let them slip into the memory of the past. It is easier that way. Easier to let go and just say goodbye than to face the conflict and questions.
Do I forgive because I am too tenacious to give up? Because walking away and starting again poses too much of a task at this point in my life. Because I want to be the bigger person. Because I am selfish. Or because I have really dealt with my feelings and moved passed them. Because I love my husband more than I love my pride. Or maybe none; maybe I can't.
Sunday, January 4, 2015
Lies
How do you get a person who is lying to themselves so convincingly, to tell the truth? Even when confronted with truth, he spends so much energy to manufacture circumstances to fit the lies. To so emphatically insist that the lies are the truth. How do you break through when he has so much invested in these lies that he probably doesn't even admit it to himself. It makes me doubtful and full of silence--because anything I say becomes an argument of he said/she said. Everything can be explained away.
But I know, in my deepest of subconscious, that it isn't the truth.
That blaming nameless hackers or vengeful enemies is so easy to do with no way to prove otherwise. Does that make me just some suspicious, paranoid, trustless ice queen? Or someone who is content to live in denial also, just to avoid the confrontation? Because I know if the confrontation happened, it would just result in more lies. I have no faith that he will admit anything without overwhelming proof. I am emotionally dead at this point. Because feeling anything would mean fighting and I have no more energy to fight. The fight has gone out of me.
This is what he has made me.
But I know, in my deepest of subconscious, that it isn't the truth.
That blaming nameless hackers or vengeful enemies is so easy to do with no way to prove otherwise. Does that make me just some suspicious, paranoid, trustless ice queen? Or someone who is content to live in denial also, just to avoid the confrontation? Because I know if the confrontation happened, it would just result in more lies. I have no faith that he will admit anything without overwhelming proof. I am emotionally dead at this point. Because feeling anything would mean fighting and I have no more energy to fight. The fight has gone out of me.
This is what he has made me.
Saturday, November 22, 2014
How to Listen
Discussion without debate. Listening without empathizing.
It is that simple. When I talk, I am not looking for feedback--unless I ask for it!
I hear so many conversations where people are responding to the speaker by telling a story that dovetails, or by relaying a similar experience. We think that is conveying our intent to let the speaker know that we heard them and that we care about their experience.
But, to the speaker--or maybe just to me, it sounds like you weren't really listening. You were waiting for your chance to be heard. You were telling a story of how you had the same experience, and that diminishes mine. I don't feel comforted; I feel challenged. I feel like my story is not worth listening to, because clearly, you have a better one. If I hurt, you have hurt more.
It is that simple. When I talk, I am not looking for feedback--unless I ask for it!
I hear so many conversations where people are responding to the speaker by telling a story that dovetails, or by relaying a similar experience. We think that is conveying our intent to let the speaker know that we heard them and that we care about their experience.
But, to the speaker--or maybe just to me, it sounds like you weren't really listening. You were waiting for your chance to be heard. You were telling a story of how you had the same experience, and that diminishes mine. I don't feel comforted; I feel challenged. I feel like my story is not worth listening to, because clearly, you have a better one. If I hurt, you have hurt more.
Sunday, November 16, 2014
Holiday Season
The holiday season is upon me. And with it, lots of requests. Requests to donate time, money, food, toys, etc., for those who are less fortunate than me. This year though, I am stuck between not having enough for my own family and knowing that we have more than others. With my husband not working, my own household is stretched very thin. So, I feel guilty. I am not even purchasing gifts for my own child this year, but I still feel guilty for not giving presents for foster children. I can't keep my own fridge full of food, and I feel guilty for not donating a turkey to a family who needs it.
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