out-of-sorts. Isn't that an odd phrase? You don't say "in sorts". But still, my head is filled with weird and annoying thoughts, and I can't think of a word or phrase to adequately describe it.
cranky. I dislike being cranky and then telling people about it. Because sometimes I don't want to explain all the weirdness that's going on in my head. So what do I say, other than being in a random bad mood?
talkative. But only if I can talk to specific people right now. I mean, my sister has already heard some of it, so I don't want to tread the same ground with her. And if I start talking to just about anyone, then I'll just vent and be totally unproductive (see cranky and out-of-sorts above). But if I could talk to the specific people I want to talk to, then some of these weird thoughts and feelings could (hopefully) get resolved.
(I'm sure all of you understand that the only thing that could create this level of cranky, talkative, and weirdness is when there are guy problems. And there's two of them that are bothering me at the moment. So all the usual problems are multiplied.)
(But I am going to stop talking about that, because I want to get in a good mood. So to continue with other feelings...)
grateful. (It seems odd for me to add this now, but with Thanksgiving just past, I have to say something about it. Especially because I was thinking about writing a post a week or so ago, but I never got around to it. So I'm going to mention some of it here.) I am grateful for reminders of mortality. For instance, funerals. I went to a funeral a couple of weeks ago. I didn't know the lady well, but I had been asked to play a musical number. It was a lovely funeral, as things go, but very weepy. And it made me start thinking about how I might be remembered. Ok, maybe one thing that people will remember about me is that I'm sarcastic and cranky. But there are funny stories, too, right? And surely stories about sports, late nights in parking lots, and music. My laughter will sure to have a special mention. At least, I hope so. But I hope there are smiles and happy memories to share.
grateful. (I needed to make a paragraph break, but I'm grateful for more than just funerals.) I went to an FHE before Thanksgiving, and we all had to share three things we were thankful for. There are so many things, like the Gospel, the Church, the temple, my family, my friends, my health, my paid-for car, etc. But I am especially grateful for living in these days, with all of technology at our fingertips. I love the internet, reading blogs, comics, facebook. I'm not the most social of people, and being able to comfortably listen on my friends' lives is quite nice. And I appreciate when people comment (here or on facebook, or on forums) and validate my online existence. Actually, my online behavior is pretty much the same as my in-person behavior. I'll still just listen to most things, and only occasionally comment. The only difference is that I'm slightly (or maybe extremely) more sarcastic in person. (It was once again pointed out to me that I shouldn't be sarcastic and teasing in text, because the person I was speaking with doesn't know me well enough to recognize my teasing if we're not face to face. Then again, he might not have recognized it face to face either, I don't know.) (Sorry, little digression there.)
better. I do feel better now than I did when I first started writing. Of course, I did eat dinner, and that always helps lift my mood. But I need to remember that when I write things out, I feel better. It doesn't seem to matter which format I use, whether it's a paper journal, this blog, or a magna-doodle. If I write it down, I can purge the thoughts that keep circling.
contemplative. I had a conversation last Friday that really affected me. Well, there was a 24-hour period from Thanksgiving afternoon to Friday night that has really made me take a hard look at myself. Have you ever ignored a problem for so long that you forgot about it, or buried it in so much other stuff that you forget why it was such a problem? Or even pretended that it wasn't a problem? And then get smacked in the face and forced to see that problem and realize that now you have to deal with the results? That was my weekend. So I have had to revisit a lot of things. And I'm trying to change some of my habits so that I can be happier. And that leads me back to...
grateful. For the Gospel, for the Atonement. And for a loving Heavenly Father, and an endlessly generous and kind Savior.
I guess I needed to vent after all. Thanks for listening.
Showing posts with label life lessons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life lessons. Show all posts
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Miracles
Today's Relief Society lesson was all about miracles. Shelly, our Relief Society president as well as today's teacher, decided that it was going to be a lesson combined with music, to add to the Spirit and the testimony. And the Young Women joined us for the day, so Adria of the YW presidency helped put together the lesson.
I have heard of the musical program Woman at the Well, but had never heard the music. Shelly and Adria picked three songs from the program. Shelly told the story, we read the scriptures, and then the song was sung. The first was the story of the woman who was healed of her illness just by touched the garment of Jesus. The second was about the 12-year-old daughter of a leader of the synagogue who had just died and then Christ raises her. The last was the story of Lazarus, who died, and was raised after four days. It was a very good lesson. After all the singing, Shelly gave examples of modern miracles, and talked about daily miracles. And then the comments of the sisters in the room about the little miracles that are so important to building up your testimony of the Gospel.
I had been asked to sing the third song, a duet voicing the thoughts and feelings of Mary and Martha, the sisters of Lazarus. The first time I heard the song, I got a little weepy. When I tried to sing along with the recording I had, I had troubles getting through the song without getting choked up. Eventually I got to the point that I was able to get through without a problem. I didn't even think that I was going to have a problem with the song and my emotions.
Well. Our regular pianist wasn't at church today, so I sat down to play prelude and so got to play the opening and closing songs for the meeting. I started to cry as soon as I started to play the opening song, How Great Thou Art. Which is just one of my most favorite hymns. And one that can always make me cry. It's not a good sign if I start crying that early in a meeting. But I still didn't think that I'd have that big of a problem. Once the lesson started, I moved across the room from my belongings, not even remembering to bring my tissues with me.
Shelly started the first story, the woman with the issue of blood, that only wanted to touch the hem of Jesus' garment. Then came the song. And I start to cry. At this point, it's too late. The only way for me to stop crying is to completely ignore the song, or leave the room. I didn't want to do either, so I'm stuck with being an emotional mess.
But since the feelings I had were so sweet and filled me with peace and gratitude, I don't really mind the tears. (However, it would have been better for me to remember my tissues. Luckily, my duet partner had some extra.)
It really is amazing all the wonderful things my Father has given me. The miracle of living on this earth, at this time, having the Gospel, having my family so close, having the blessings of the Church. Knowing about the temple, and being able to go is a miracle and blessing. Waking every day is a great blessing and miracle. Finding my roommate was a great miracle. Getting our couch was a wonderful little miracle.
When it came time for me to sing, I had been steadily sniffing back tears for 20 minutes. And when I stood up to sing, all the room could tell that I had been crying and was on the verge of tears again. I told them it was a good thing the words had been printed up for them, so that if I was incoherent, or stopped singing altogether, they would know what it was supposed to have been. I manage to get through this song, even getting through the part that had tripped me up in the first place. But the last few lines. "Somehow He knew when to be here. / Son of God, / He is always here." I couldn't actually finish the last note for crying. (I'm even starting to cry as I type this.) My only consolation is that I made some of the other sisters in the room cry.
But the whole experience made me so grateful for so many things. For a family that loves and supports me. For a ward family that loves me and prays for me. For friends that still are my friends, even though I make fun of them, or have a laugh at their expense. I'm grateful that my friends stayed around long enough to know that past the cynical and mean exterior, I'm worth getting to know.
I was giving a sister from church a ride home and she told me that I can't hide the fact that I have a soft heart. Which made me laugh, because sometimes I'd rather be seen as mean and cynical, but sometimes no one else sees me that way. (At least among the sisters of my ward, who only see me on Sunday, and who see just the soft-hearted side.)
Anyways, I guess I just wanted to share that I do have a testimony of the Gospel. And that I do know that I am very blessed and lucky. And that miracles are around us, everywhere and everyday.
I have heard of the musical program Woman at the Well, but had never heard the music. Shelly and Adria picked three songs from the program. Shelly told the story, we read the scriptures, and then the song was sung. The first was the story of the woman who was healed of her illness just by touched the garment of Jesus. The second was about the 12-year-old daughter of a leader of the synagogue who had just died and then Christ raises her. The last was the story of Lazarus, who died, and was raised after four days. It was a very good lesson. After all the singing, Shelly gave examples of modern miracles, and talked about daily miracles. And then the comments of the sisters in the room about the little miracles that are so important to building up your testimony of the Gospel.
I had been asked to sing the third song, a duet voicing the thoughts and feelings of Mary and Martha, the sisters of Lazarus. The first time I heard the song, I got a little weepy. When I tried to sing along with the recording I had, I had troubles getting through the song without getting choked up. Eventually I got to the point that I was able to get through without a problem. I didn't even think that I was going to have a problem with the song and my emotions.
Well. Our regular pianist wasn't at church today, so I sat down to play prelude and so got to play the opening and closing songs for the meeting. I started to cry as soon as I started to play the opening song, How Great Thou Art. Which is just one of my most favorite hymns. And one that can always make me cry. It's not a good sign if I start crying that early in a meeting. But I still didn't think that I'd have that big of a problem. Once the lesson started, I moved across the room from my belongings, not even remembering to bring my tissues with me.
Shelly started the first story, the woman with the issue of blood, that only wanted to touch the hem of Jesus' garment. Then came the song. And I start to cry. At this point, it's too late. The only way for me to stop crying is to completely ignore the song, or leave the room. I didn't want to do either, so I'm stuck with being an emotional mess.
But since the feelings I had were so sweet and filled me with peace and gratitude, I don't really mind the tears. (However, it would have been better for me to remember my tissues. Luckily, my duet partner had some extra.)
It really is amazing all the wonderful things my Father has given me. The miracle of living on this earth, at this time, having the Gospel, having my family so close, having the blessings of the Church. Knowing about the temple, and being able to go is a miracle and blessing. Waking every day is a great blessing and miracle. Finding my roommate was a great miracle. Getting our couch was a wonderful little miracle.
When it came time for me to sing, I had been steadily sniffing back tears for 20 minutes. And when I stood up to sing, all the room could tell that I had been crying and was on the verge of tears again. I told them it was a good thing the words had been printed up for them, so that if I was incoherent, or stopped singing altogether, they would know what it was supposed to have been. I manage to get through this song, even getting through the part that had tripped me up in the first place. But the last few lines. "Somehow He knew when to be here. / Son of God, / He is always here." I couldn't actually finish the last note for crying. (I'm even starting to cry as I type this.) My only consolation is that I made some of the other sisters in the room cry.
But the whole experience made me so grateful for so many things. For a family that loves and supports me. For a ward family that loves me and prays for me. For friends that still are my friends, even though I make fun of them, or have a laugh at their expense. I'm grateful that my friends stayed around long enough to know that past the cynical and mean exterior, I'm worth getting to know.
I was giving a sister from church a ride home and she told me that I can't hide the fact that I have a soft heart. Which made me laugh, because sometimes I'd rather be seen as mean and cynical, but sometimes no one else sees me that way. (At least among the sisters of my ward, who only see me on Sunday, and who see just the soft-hearted side.)
Anyways, I guess I just wanted to share that I do have a testimony of the Gospel. And that I do know that I am very blessed and lucky. And that miracles are around us, everywhere and everyday.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Déjà vu all over again.
I had an interesting experience the other day. On Tuesday I decided to go to the temple out in Mesa after work. So I find myself driving along the 202, just a mile or two away from my exit at about 5:45 at night. (Traffic was awesomely light! I don’t usually get to that point that quickly on my drive.) And all of a sudden, I remembered being on that road, at that place, at that general time of day, on that very evening, the 23rd of December, exactly four years prior.
It’s not often that I can remember exactly what I was doing any given day of any given year. I usually write down on my calendar some key words of whatever makes a given day special or unique. Then when I read those entries, I can remember that day and what happened. But I needed no words to prompt me to recall that year and that occasion. Just the cloudy sky, lit by the setting sun. My destination that day was so completely different. My activities that evening and that Christmas were just about the polar opposite of this year. This year I spent an evening in the temple, and enjoyed my family on Christmas Eve. Today I’m going to be at my parents’ house, and spend a little more time with them.
There’s no need to go into what happened that Christmas four years ago. But I have been thinking about it, comparing what happened then and where I am now. I don’t know that I’d be who I am today without that Christmas. I’ve learned a lot about myself since then. I’ve learned more of what I want from myself and from my life. Maybe I didn’t need that year and that experience to have gotten to this point, but there it was.
I’ve learned about the Gospel, about forgiveness and repentance. I’ve learned great things about the Atonement and about my relationship with my Savior. I certainly don’t know what my life has in store for me, but I have gained a new acceptance of that not knowing.
I didn’t really intend to get all serious. I was just going to relate a funny moment which contrasted where I’ve been in my life so neatly. But today being Christmas Day, and a time of year to express a renewal of gratitude of Christ and His mission on this earth, and His role in our lives, my thoughts have turned to the lessons that I have learned, and my great gratitude for the effect that the Plan of Salvation has had on my life.
So I hope that all of you have a very Merry Christmas, and strive to always remember that great gift of love that was given to us all. When you exchange your gifts, and you spend time with those you love, make sure to treasure those moments, and express the love that you feel for those around you. Reach out to those that are not present, and make sure that they know that you also think of them. Remember our Father, and His Son, and their great love for you and for me.
EDIT: I realized while I was driving to my parents' house that the title of my post is a little too flippant for the tone that I ended up with. But that really is my style. I joke and I laugh, even at serious subjects or at serious or uncomfortable times. I may laugh and be silly, but inside I'm quite serious and sincere.
It’s not often that I can remember exactly what I was doing any given day of any given year. I usually write down on my calendar some key words of whatever makes a given day special or unique. Then when I read those entries, I can remember that day and what happened. But I needed no words to prompt me to recall that year and that occasion. Just the cloudy sky, lit by the setting sun. My destination that day was so completely different. My activities that evening and that Christmas were just about the polar opposite of this year. This year I spent an evening in the temple, and enjoyed my family on Christmas Eve. Today I’m going to be at my parents’ house, and spend a little more time with them.
There’s no need to go into what happened that Christmas four years ago. But I have been thinking about it, comparing what happened then and where I am now. I don’t know that I’d be who I am today without that Christmas. I’ve learned a lot about myself since then. I’ve learned more of what I want from myself and from my life. Maybe I didn’t need that year and that experience to have gotten to this point, but there it was.
I’ve learned about the Gospel, about forgiveness and repentance. I’ve learned great things about the Atonement and about my relationship with my Savior. I certainly don’t know what my life has in store for me, but I have gained a new acceptance of that not knowing.
I didn’t really intend to get all serious. I was just going to relate a funny moment which contrasted where I’ve been in my life so neatly. But today being Christmas Day, and a time of year to express a renewal of gratitude of Christ and His mission on this earth, and His role in our lives, my thoughts have turned to the lessons that I have learned, and my great gratitude for the effect that the Plan of Salvation has had on my life.
So I hope that all of you have a very Merry Christmas, and strive to always remember that great gift of love that was given to us all. When you exchange your gifts, and you spend time with those you love, make sure to treasure those moments, and express the love that you feel for those around you. Reach out to those that are not present, and make sure that they know that you also think of them. Remember our Father, and His Son, and their great love for you and for me.
EDIT: I realized while I was driving to my parents' house that the title of my post is a little too flippant for the tone that I ended up with. But that really is my style. I joke and I laugh, even at serious subjects or at serious or uncomfortable times. I may laugh and be silly, but inside I'm quite serious and sincere.
Monday, December 8, 2008
A musical number
So a couple of weeks ago I posted this entry about all the musical stuff that I have to do this month. Yesterday one of the items got checked off the list. I had complained about having to sing in a trio, a song that I had no input in? Well, that's what we sang yesterday. And after the meeting, I felt a bit bad about how I intially felt about it. Especially that I posted my feelings for everyone to see.
We sang in another ward's Relief Society meeting. It was all about Christ, and His birth. We sang at the end of the hour, and had to leave as soon as we finished, because my roommate and I had other meetings to get to. But it was mentioned at the beginning of the meeting that the ward (or maybe just the Relief Society) had dedicated their fast to praying for one sister to be able to get pregnant. Well, I'm aquainted with this sister, and had no idea that she had been having problems. And it seems that there might be other difficulties going on in her life that might or might not be tied to this. (I'm not telling who, because that's just not my business to share.) And then the entire lesson is about the birth of Christ, and how this little baby grew up to be our Savior. And the song we sang is called My Son, My King. All about Mary and her thoughts about her little baby and how He was to save the world.
This forced me to adjust my thinking. To realize that this sister has struggles that I couldn't see. That no matter how strained or stressed or sad she may be, she puts on a cheerful happy face. I think it might have been difficult for her to sit through this meeting, but she stayed, and cried a little (but so did several other people in the room), and participated.
I don't know if I really have a point to make. I've totally lost track of where I was going to go with this. But it's been on my mind all day long, so I thought I would share.
I guess one thing I could learn is to not resent when people ask me to share my talent. I really shouldn't complain when people want me to sing for them. Especially when I get to sing about the Savior. Oh, and to not complain in general. Too often I allow my bad mood to affect the way I treat others. I'm trying to be more aware of this. Well, I guess I need a reminder every so often that I need to be more aware of that. Oh, and to try to remember that everyone has their struggles, and don't let everybody know everything. So I need to not judge people on the outward appearance. Or judge them by their mood or the face they present for others to see. Ok, so I learned lots from yesterday's experience.
We sang in another ward's Relief Society meeting. It was all about Christ, and His birth. We sang at the end of the hour, and had to leave as soon as we finished, because my roommate and I had other meetings to get to. But it was mentioned at the beginning of the meeting that the ward (or maybe just the Relief Society) had dedicated their fast to praying for one sister to be able to get pregnant. Well, I'm aquainted with this sister, and had no idea that she had been having problems. And it seems that there might be other difficulties going on in her life that might or might not be tied to this. (I'm not telling who, because that's just not my business to share.) And then the entire lesson is about the birth of Christ, and how this little baby grew up to be our Savior. And the song we sang is called My Son, My King. All about Mary and her thoughts about her little baby and how He was to save the world.
This forced me to adjust my thinking. To realize that this sister has struggles that I couldn't see. That no matter how strained or stressed or sad she may be, she puts on a cheerful happy face. I think it might have been difficult for her to sit through this meeting, but she stayed, and cried a little (but so did several other people in the room), and participated.
I don't know if I really have a point to make. I've totally lost track of where I was going to go with this. But it's been on my mind all day long, so I thought I would share.
I guess one thing I could learn is to not resent when people ask me to share my talent. I really shouldn't complain when people want me to sing for them. Especially when I get to sing about the Savior. Oh, and to not complain in general. Too often I allow my bad mood to affect the way I treat others. I'm trying to be more aware of this. Well, I guess I need a reminder every so often that I need to be more aware of that. Oh, and to try to remember that everyone has their struggles, and don't let everybody know everything. So I need to not judge people on the outward appearance. Or judge them by their mood or the face they present for others to see. Ok, so I learned lots from yesterday's experience.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Blessings of tithing
There are great blessings that come because of tithing. I think most people now expect a story of how this one time I paid my tithing and got some great life-changing testimony-affirming experience happened. Well, that's not the story I have to tell. I didn't pay my tithing, and I'm glad.
Now before you condemn me for being glad I didn't pay my tithing, let me explain. The Sunday before General Conference, I forgot to bring a check with me to church to give my offerings. I was annoyed, because then I'd have three weeks of tithing and a fast offering to give all on one check two weeks later. It all worked out, but I prefer to give as I get paid. Makes it easier to make sure I keep current with it.
This past weekend was Stake Conference. I managed to remember a check the week before, so that was all good. But this week is a little tight. Not only rent, but baseball tickets were coming out of the same paycheck, so a little shifting of the funds was needed. So the little minor fact of not paying my tithing this week is a great blessing. As soon as the next paycheck comes, everything will be fine, and there will be no worries.
Isn't it funny where you can find blessings if you look for them? Normally, I wouldn't think about how not paying tithing is a blessing, but somehow, this week it is.
Now before you condemn me for being glad I didn't pay my tithing, let me explain. The Sunday before General Conference, I forgot to bring a check with me to church to give my offerings. I was annoyed, because then I'd have three weeks of tithing and a fast offering to give all on one check two weeks later. It all worked out, but I prefer to give as I get paid. Makes it easier to make sure I keep current with it.
This past weekend was Stake Conference. I managed to remember a check the week before, so that was all good. But this week is a little tight. Not only rent, but baseball tickets were coming out of the same paycheck, so a little shifting of the funds was needed. So the little minor fact of not paying my tithing this week is a great blessing. As soon as the next paycheck comes, everything will be fine, and there will be no worries.
Isn't it funny where you can find blessings if you look for them? Normally, I wouldn't think about how not paying tithing is a blessing, but somehow, this week it is.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Summer Vacation, Part 4
1. I would rather be alone in a crowd of tens of thousands than feel lonely in a room with 20 friends.
2. I have been and can be unreasonably mean, and I (sometimes) do not have good reasons for disliking people.
I really do want to finish this series of posts. I need to make myself face these parts of me that I want to improve.
I love going to baseball games. I love the game; I love being present for history. I love being in the stands, watching the people, hearing the cheers. I like sitting in my seat, alone, and enjoying myself. Since I go to so many games, I recognize some of the people that sit around my seats. There are people I know that I could sit with, but when I don’t bring any guests, I really do love to be by myself. Even in a crowd of 30,000 people, I’m not lonely. Or if I am lonely, it’s not a painful loneliness; it’s a wish for company, for that one person who would want to go to all of the games with me.
I went to a friend’s house for a party a month or two ago. There were probably around 20 people, all of whom I knew, and they all knew me. But later in the evening, I found myself standing alone, watching everyone else. They had divided into two basic groups, and I didn’t really feel like joining either one. So I stand there, wondering why I feel so lonely, when I’m among friends.
Now, I know that no one meant to exclude me. I knew that I’d be welcomed to sit down and join the larger group. But I didn’t feel like I was a part. I don’t know if it was just my mood, or if that only contributed to be feeling like an outsider. But at least when I sit alone at a ballgame, I don’t feel as lonely as I did that night among my friends.
So maybe I need to be more friendly, more open. Do I seem unapproachable? I know that I don’t make any effort to get to know new people. I know I need to make that effort, but there’s a part of me that doesn’t really see the point in it. Hmm, so my attitude needs to improve first, and then I can work on getting to know people.
Part of it is that I truly do prefer to sit and observe. I don’t want to be the center of attention in a large group. It’s like at a dance, when all of a sudden there’s a big circle, and everyone is watching just one or two people dance at a time. I don’t like that. I really like the smaller groups, when no one’s is really paying attention, and I can relax and just move how I want to. I am fully capable of contributing to a smaller group, I just don’t want to fight for the center of a big group.
As for the second point, well, I’m just mean. I’m sarcastic and cranky. I do judge people, find them annoying, and then try my best to ignore them. I’m working on that last part. There are a couple few people that I find very annoying. But I have begun to try to be nice, to try to see their good points, and try to be understanding and tolerant. It’s working, but slowly. Baby steps.
But tell me honestly, am I unapproachable? How did we become friends? My best friend in high school complained that I was mean to her my freshman year, yet she persevered and we became great friends. (I didn’t realize she thought me mean, I was shy. Very shy. And had low self-esteem. Really low.) Was I mean to you at first? And I laugh a lot. It’s necessary for me. And as Bob mentioned, laughter is a defining characteristic of my personality. Does the laughter help or hurt me?
Other posts in this series: Intro; Part 2; Part 3
2. I have been and can be unreasonably mean, and I (sometimes) do not have good reasons for disliking people.
I really do want to finish this series of posts. I need to make myself face these parts of me that I want to improve.
I love going to baseball games. I love the game; I love being present for history. I love being in the stands, watching the people, hearing the cheers. I like sitting in my seat, alone, and enjoying myself. Since I go to so many games, I recognize some of the people that sit around my seats. There are people I know that I could sit with, but when I don’t bring any guests, I really do love to be by myself. Even in a crowd of 30,000 people, I’m not lonely. Or if I am lonely, it’s not a painful loneliness; it’s a wish for company, for that one person who would want to go to all of the games with me.
I went to a friend’s house for a party a month or two ago. There were probably around 20 people, all of whom I knew, and they all knew me. But later in the evening, I found myself standing alone, watching everyone else. They had divided into two basic groups, and I didn’t really feel like joining either one. So I stand there, wondering why I feel so lonely, when I’m among friends.
Now, I know that no one meant to exclude me. I knew that I’d be welcomed to sit down and join the larger group. But I didn’t feel like I was a part. I don’t know if it was just my mood, or if that only contributed to be feeling like an outsider. But at least when I sit alone at a ballgame, I don’t feel as lonely as I did that night among my friends.
So maybe I need to be more friendly, more open. Do I seem unapproachable? I know that I don’t make any effort to get to know new people. I know I need to make that effort, but there’s a part of me that doesn’t really see the point in it. Hmm, so my attitude needs to improve first, and then I can work on getting to know people.
Part of it is that I truly do prefer to sit and observe. I don’t want to be the center of attention in a large group. It’s like at a dance, when all of a sudden there’s a big circle, and everyone is watching just one or two people dance at a time. I don’t like that. I really like the smaller groups, when no one’s is really paying attention, and I can relax and just move how I want to. I am fully capable of contributing to a smaller group, I just don’t want to fight for the center of a big group.
As for the second point, well, I’m just mean. I’m sarcastic and cranky. I do judge people, find them annoying, and then try my best to ignore them. I’m working on that last part. There are a couple few people that I find very annoying. But I have begun to try to be nice, to try to see their good points, and try to be understanding and tolerant. It’s working, but slowly. Baby steps.
But tell me honestly, am I unapproachable? How did we become friends? My best friend in high school complained that I was mean to her my freshman year, yet she persevered and we became great friends. (I didn’t realize she thought me mean, I was shy. Very shy. And had low self-esteem. Really low.) Was I mean to you at first? And I laugh a lot. It’s necessary for me. And as Bob mentioned, laughter is a defining characteristic of my personality. Does the laughter help or hurt me?
Other posts in this series: Intro; Part 2; Part 3
Friday, October 10, 2008
Summer Vacation, Part 3
1. I like being in my place by myself. I would live alone if I could afford it.
2. I want a music room. Music is a necessary and vital part of my life.
I suppose I should explain the first one before my roommate gets upset at me. Don’t get me wrong, I love my roommate. But she’s also been on vacation recently, so I’ve had time to remember that I really like to be in my own space, to not worry about how my daily habits might affect anyone else. I get the same feeling when I’m alone at my parents’ house. I’ve always wanted to have my own place. I want to put things away where I want them. I like to leave my stuff around until I feel like picking it up. I want to decorate how I want and have refrigerator poetry. I just would really like to be able to try it.
The funny thing about this wish to be alone is that when I do see off roommate or parents, the first night alone is sometimes a little difficult. At the apartment, I lay awake, hearing all the odd sounds of the neighbors that I normally disregard. Then I keep double- and triple-checking that I had locked the door. Or when I’m at my parents and have their animals to contend with. The animals don’t rest well the first night, and that means that I don’t rest well. But once we all get into a rhythm, and the animals get used to me being there, it’s great.
But living with a roommate is so different than living with my parents, that I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything. It’s been great fun. It’s funny, I might have lived in my parents’ house for four years, but I never felt fully comfortable in the kitchen. Like being able to root through the cupboards and cook what I wanted to, even if I was home alone. Now, I feel no hesitation in cooking my food and occasionally attempting to plan meals, even if my roommate was home. My roommate and I have gotten into a good rhythm, and things have gone very well this year. I’ve really enjoyed living with her. (Oh, and she has let me decorate some, and hang my pictures up. And she likes the refrigerator poetry I bought last week. So I guess I don't need to be alone to be able to do those two things.)
Recently my older sister asked to borrow one of my flutes. Her older daughter has decided to learn how to play that instrument. So I pulled out my first flute, the one that I learned on. I had to polish it, and check the keys and the pads, and make sure it was working well enough. And of course, I had to check the sound and the tone. Just to be thorough. So I pull out a little sonata that also doubles as a fingering exercise and run through it. I wasn’t really sitting in a good posture, and I haven’t played in years. But the sound came out, and the music flowed, and the patterns just came back to my fingers. Certainly not as well or as smooth as I could have played it 10 years ago, but it was still there. It was rather amazing realizing just how much I’ve missed playing my flute.
Every time I house sit for my parents, I take the opportunity to play on their piano. It’s only then that I notice a difference in my day. When living there, I could just sit at the piano at any time and play whatever. But then I moved out. I didn’t realize what the effects of not having a piano would be. I had no idea that playing was a main stress reliever. I have to be more careful about what music I listen to. It really makes a difference in my day when I listen to hymns or to the Tabernacle Choir.
My dad’s den used to be carpeted. They’ve recently replaced the carpet with faux wood tiles. The room wasn’t finished yet, all the furniture was still out in the hallway. Just by walking by and talking to the dog I could hear that ringing echo. So I walk in, and sing a little bit. It was beautiful. The sound, the echo, the warmth of the tone. It’s a shame that furniture has to go back inside. If it were my house, and my choice, the piano would be moving in there, and I would have my music room. But that’s a dream that has to wait for someday.
2. I want a music room. Music is a necessary and vital part of my life.
I suppose I should explain the first one before my roommate gets upset at me. Don’t get me wrong, I love my roommate. But she’s also been on vacation recently, so I’ve had time to remember that I really like to be in my own space, to not worry about how my daily habits might affect anyone else. I get the same feeling when I’m alone at my parents’ house. I’ve always wanted to have my own place. I want to put things away where I want them. I like to leave my stuff around until I feel like picking it up. I want to decorate how I want and have refrigerator poetry. I just would really like to be able to try it.
The funny thing about this wish to be alone is that when I do see off roommate or parents, the first night alone is sometimes a little difficult. At the apartment, I lay awake, hearing all the odd sounds of the neighbors that I normally disregard. Then I keep double- and triple-checking that I had locked the door. Or when I’m at my parents and have their animals to contend with. The animals don’t rest well the first night, and that means that I don’t rest well. But once we all get into a rhythm, and the animals get used to me being there, it’s great.
But living with a roommate is so different than living with my parents, that I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything. It’s been great fun. It’s funny, I might have lived in my parents’ house for four years, but I never felt fully comfortable in the kitchen. Like being able to root through the cupboards and cook what I wanted to, even if I was home alone. Now, I feel no hesitation in cooking my food and occasionally attempting to plan meals, even if my roommate was home. My roommate and I have gotten into a good rhythm, and things have gone very well this year. I’ve really enjoyed living with her. (Oh, and she has let me decorate some, and hang my pictures up. And she likes the refrigerator poetry I bought last week. So I guess I don't need to be alone to be able to do those two things.)
Recently my older sister asked to borrow one of my flutes. Her older daughter has decided to learn how to play that instrument. So I pulled out my first flute, the one that I learned on. I had to polish it, and check the keys and the pads, and make sure it was working well enough. And of course, I had to check the sound and the tone. Just to be thorough. So I pull out a little sonata that also doubles as a fingering exercise and run through it. I wasn’t really sitting in a good posture, and I haven’t played in years. But the sound came out, and the music flowed, and the patterns just came back to my fingers. Certainly not as well or as smooth as I could have played it 10 years ago, but it was still there. It was rather amazing realizing just how much I’ve missed playing my flute.
Every time I house sit for my parents, I take the opportunity to play on their piano. It’s only then that I notice a difference in my day. When living there, I could just sit at the piano at any time and play whatever. But then I moved out. I didn’t realize what the effects of not having a piano would be. I had no idea that playing was a main stress reliever. I have to be more careful about what music I listen to. It really makes a difference in my day when I listen to hymns or to the Tabernacle Choir.
My dad’s den used to be carpeted. They’ve recently replaced the carpet with faux wood tiles. The room wasn’t finished yet, all the furniture was still out in the hallway. Just by walking by and talking to the dog I could hear that ringing echo. So I walk in, and sing a little bit. It was beautiful. The sound, the echo, the warmth of the tone. It’s a shame that furniture has to go back inside. If it were my house, and my choice, the piano would be moving in there, and I would have my music room. But that’s a dream that has to wait for someday.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Summer Vacation, Part 2
Because boys and relationships are what are on my mind right now, I figured I’d start with those thoughts.
1. When I get depressed I am more susceptible to temptations, and more likely to want to contact ex-boyfriends.
2. “Never allow someone to be your priority while allowing yourself to be their option.”
3. I feel that I can be insecure and needy when I am in a relationship. I get attached and dependent too quickly.
As for the first point, I don’t know that depression is quite the right word. But it’s when I get a little down, a little bit sorry for myself. Which I think is normal, something that everyone goes through. But so I get in that mood, and I can’t always find my way out right away. I think about where I am now, and where I want to be. And I think about the past, and remember the guys I’ve dated, and the relationships I’ve had. Then sometimes I might start dwelling on the past, and wander into areas best left alone. That’s when I most want to call up that ex.
However, when that ex is Charlie, I usually make the call. He is so levelheaded and straightforward. We do look back, and there are references to our relationship, but most of the focus of the conversation is on the present. I’ve been thinking about calling a guy that I dated over the summer. Let’s call him Guy E. That’s why I wanted to call Charlie, and what started this whole train of thought in the first place. Our relationship didn’t exactly last for very long, but it seemed so promising. The main thing holding me back from calling is the uncertainty of whether or not it would do any good. Would he even answer? What if he’s seeing someone now? Would he want to hear from me? Or should I just realize that him not responding to me or calling for several weeks’ time means that he’s done and I should just leave things be?
The second point is a quote that a friend posted online. And that really struck a chord in me. Because that quote describes pretty much the relationship that I had with Guy D. Sad, yes, but I couldn’t see it, or didn’t want to see it for a long time. More honestly, I just didn’t want to admit it.
I’m sure I’m not the only one who has problems with the third point. I just really enjoy being in a relationship. When I’m in that relationship, I want to do whatever I can to stay in that relationship. Hmm, it ties back into the second point, because when someone is a priority, and you’ll do whatever you can to keep that relationship, you won’t rock the boat too hard, because you don’t want to lose that person. Regardless of whether or not it would be better to be out of that relationship, you don’t want to let go. Because after all, they could always change, right?
I did end up calling Charlie. We had a conversation that didn’t even make it to the 15-minute mark, but it helped. He didn’t say whether I should call E or not, but he did point out some possible reasons why I haven’t heard from the guy. And I have to admit that they are reasonable explanations. I don’t know what I want to accomplish by calling. That’s probably the main reason why I haven’t called him yet. I just don’t know. A friend asked if I even wanted anything to happen there. I don’t know. I really liked him, and I had thought that there was a lot of potential between us. But now, I just don’t know. I guess I’m always reaching for closure. Always holding onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, he wants me back in his life, and will do what it takes to keep me there. Or at least I’ll finally hear a reason and explanation that satisfies me and enables me to fully and truly let go.
One good thing about how long it takes me to write an entry is that fact that I can keep editing this. And now that I got to enjoy General Conference and all the wonderful messages, I can look back at these words with a new outlook. I can remember that I don’t need a phone call to define me, or make my life better. I can be patient, and have confidence in the fact that there is plan for me, designed by One who knows my needs. So this post now turns out to end on a more positive than you might have thought it would be. But it was good to walk through all of this. Now that this is here, I can look back to this whenever I lapse back into the bad habits. Hey, and everyone else can learn from my bad mistakes, too. Good for all of us!
1. When I get depressed I am more susceptible to temptations, and more likely to want to contact ex-boyfriends.
2. “Never allow someone to be your priority while allowing yourself to be their option.”
3. I feel that I can be insecure and needy when I am in a relationship. I get attached and dependent too quickly.
As for the first point, I don’t know that depression is quite the right word. But it’s when I get a little down, a little bit sorry for myself. Which I think is normal, something that everyone goes through. But so I get in that mood, and I can’t always find my way out right away. I think about where I am now, and where I want to be. And I think about the past, and remember the guys I’ve dated, and the relationships I’ve had. Then sometimes I might start dwelling on the past, and wander into areas best left alone. That’s when I most want to call up that ex.
However, when that ex is Charlie, I usually make the call. He is so levelheaded and straightforward. We do look back, and there are references to our relationship, but most of the focus of the conversation is on the present. I’ve been thinking about calling a guy that I dated over the summer. Let’s call him Guy E. That’s why I wanted to call Charlie, and what started this whole train of thought in the first place. Our relationship didn’t exactly last for very long, but it seemed so promising. The main thing holding me back from calling is the uncertainty of whether or not it would do any good. Would he even answer? What if he’s seeing someone now? Would he want to hear from me? Or should I just realize that him not responding to me or calling for several weeks’ time means that he’s done and I should just leave things be?
The second point is a quote that a friend posted online. And that really struck a chord in me. Because that quote describes pretty much the relationship that I had with Guy D. Sad, yes, but I couldn’t see it, or didn’t want to see it for a long time. More honestly, I just didn’t want to admit it.
I’m sure I’m not the only one who has problems with the third point. I just really enjoy being in a relationship. When I’m in that relationship, I want to do whatever I can to stay in that relationship. Hmm, it ties back into the second point, because when someone is a priority, and you’ll do whatever you can to keep that relationship, you won’t rock the boat too hard, because you don’t want to lose that person. Regardless of whether or not it would be better to be out of that relationship, you don’t want to let go. Because after all, they could always change, right?
I did end up calling Charlie. We had a conversation that didn’t even make it to the 15-minute mark, but it helped. He didn’t say whether I should call E or not, but he did point out some possible reasons why I haven’t heard from the guy. And I have to admit that they are reasonable explanations. I don’t know what I want to accomplish by calling. That’s probably the main reason why I haven’t called him yet. I just don’t know. A friend asked if I even wanted anything to happen there. I don’t know. I really liked him, and I had thought that there was a lot of potential between us. But now, I just don’t know. I guess I’m always reaching for closure. Always holding onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, he wants me back in his life, and will do what it takes to keep me there. Or at least I’ll finally hear a reason and explanation that satisfies me and enables me to fully and truly let go.
One good thing about how long it takes me to write an entry is that fact that I can keep editing this. And now that I got to enjoy General Conference and all the wonderful messages, I can look back at these words with a new outlook. I can remember that I don’t need a phone call to define me, or make my life better. I can be patient, and have confidence in the fact that there is plan for me, designed by One who knows my needs. So this post now turns out to end on a more positive than you might have thought it would be. But it was good to walk through all of this. Now that this is here, I can look back to this whenever I lapse back into the bad habits. Hey, and everyone else can learn from my bad mistakes, too. Good for all of us!
Friday, October 3, 2008
My Summer Vacation
I haven’t talked to Charlie since my birthday. He’s a person who I can confide in, who listens, and who responds honestly. He has a viewpoint that none of my other friends have. Of course, some of his viewpoints I disagree with, but that just makes it easier to see what I really think or believe. Because while I am explaining to him just why I believe what I do, I put it into words for myself, and can then understand myself and my motivations better. I do have other friends who have that effect, just not to the extent that a conversation with Charlie would have.
Recently I was thinking that I would like very much to call him, but it’s something I feel awkward about it. The timing is … delicate. We generally only talk on our birthdays, but his is in March, and I don’t want to wait that long. The best conversations (with anybody, really) are the ones when we can take our time, when we can update each other about our lives. The time difference means that when I think about talking to him at night, I have to remember that it’s three hours later for him. One might think that a Saturday might be the best day to spend time talking, but I cannot and will not impinge on the time he spends with his girlfriend. So it needs to happen sometime during the week, and in the later afternoon so it doesn’t get to be too late for him. Of course, he could very likely be on the night shift, but I have no way of knowing if his schedule ever changes. And I want to be able to have an open space of time so that he could call me back, or that we could talk. A five-minute conversation while on the way to the gym is not very helpful.
Anyways. I was thinking about all the things that I wanted to talk to him about. He’s very helpful when it comes to guys and their thoughts and motivations. I want his advice. His viewpoint of an older divorced man who is not a member of the Church is very helpful when it comes to the guys that I seem to always be attracted to. Of course, if I actually dated guys who were members, Charlie’s viewpoint won’t be quite as valuable. Having an honest guy’s perspective will always be helpful, but there is a great difference between a guy who’s a member and one who is not.
So I was thinking about what I wanted to talk to him about. Not just the actions, the dates, or the conversations. I learned things about myself these last four months.
1. I like being in my place by myself. I would live alone if I could afford it.
2. I want a music room. Music is a necessary and vital part of my life.
3. I would rather be alone in a crowd of tens of thousands than feel lonely in a room with 20 friends.
4. I have been and can be unreasonably mean, and I (sometimes) do not have good reasons for disliking people.
5. When I get depressed I am more susceptible to temptations, and more likely to want to contact ex-boyfriends.
6. “Never allow someone to be your priority while allowing yourself to be their option.”
7. I feel that I am insecure and needy when I am in a relationship. I get attached and dependent too quickly.
8. I don’t do enough to properly care for myself physically.
9. I don’t do enough to properly care for myself spiritually.
10.I don’t do enough to properly care for myself mentally.
I think that’s enough learning for one summer. I didn’t realize that there was going to be so many items on the list. And I don’t necessarily need to talk to him about all of it, but once I got going on this list, it just kept going. In fact, in order to cement what I have learned about myself, I’ll have to explain them. But I think that to explain them all properly, I’ll need to break it up into 3 or 4 different entries.
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