Tag Archives: DOH

Oops, I did it again.

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Oops, I did it again.

Sometimes I lose sight of the fact that every time I am disappointed it is because of an expectation that I have created in this wee little brain of mine. I heard a song last night by an artist that is sorta? localish…. One of the lyrics referred to the fact that as far as water is concerned, he only has half a brain, because the other half IS water… Anywhoo…. His name is Hunter Paye, he is playing at the Alberta Street Pub if you are interested….

I digressed. Where was I?

Ah, yes. Expectations lead to disappointment.

So anyway, I am trying very hard to stay present and enjoy my new experiences and understand that when it comes to everyone else in the world, concentric circles are we.

We all have different agendas yet similar needs at the center; when we expect others to react and/or act the same way as we would and they don’t, we project our disappointment onto them. However, the fault lies in ourselves for aligning our own thoughts and pushing our perceptions onto them.

I recently read a pretty damn good article which I think is (at least partially) at the heart of this soul burn of mine: I postulate if we are are hardwired to empathize with those we love at a neural level, then aren’t we hardwired to assume that they are as well?

Hm.

So I guess what I am working through is that what I am feeling at this moment is in fact self inflicted. And that sucks. Because I probably made the other party feel shitty by letting them know how I felt. But honesty about feelings is better upstream than down. Right?

Right.

Now I shall bathe whilst drinking my beer(s) and contemplate this more deeply in order to let it go.

Cheers.

XOXO

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And then it hits me….

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And then it hits me….

So I know, I know….finding meaning in everything is dumb and illogical. But when you have 857,348,578 things happen that align with gut feelings you have had, you start to take them into consideration. Confirmation bias aside, sometimes I meet someone or see something and it really bothers me when I can’t place it or them. Sometimes it is totally topical like not remembering who an actor in a film is, other times it’s like a Déjà vu situation, a “Mists of Avalon” when Igraine and Uther meet for the first time in this life if you will….and they realize that they have been together for many lifetimes and you as the reader have to wonder if it is true or part of Viviane’s spell….sigh.

I digress.

Anywhoo….

When I was younger my BFF Lisa and I would have conversations about something and try to remember a name or a song or an actor what have you, and it could be 3 weeks or months later and I would remember. regardless of what time of day (or morning…3 am anyone?) I would call her and be like “GARY BUSEY!” to which she would reply something to the effect of “What the fuck? oh yeah. yep. Goodnight Jani….”

In recent years I have taken to writing things down next to my bed and calling people (or Facebooking) people at more reasonable hours. Usually, anyhow. 😉

The thing that has been bothering me of late is someone’s tattoo….I KNEW I had seen it but just couldn’t place it. I had made up all kinds of scenarios, logical and illogical, romantic and dramatic….from supernatural to a stroke. (I know, I know, strokes aren’t funny.)

Then this morning, I am scrolling through my Facebook timeline looking for an invitation to a True Blood viewing party so I can change my response and BAM.

A movie meme.

There it is.

Right fucking in front of me.

It’s two character’s tattoos put together from a movie.

FINALLY!

While I am relieved to finally consciously place it, I am still a little sad it wasn’t something  meaningful. Stupid girl.

DOH

Shattering patterns, one crisis at a time….

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Shattering patterns, one crisis at a time….

So you know that dumb cliché that your children are your karma for what you did as a child?

Payback is a bitch.

Today marked the third LARGE parenting crisis I have had to deal with in the 16 years I have been a parent. Oddly enough, all three of them have happened when my children were the same age as I was, when I experienced practically the same crisis.

It’s really freaking scary. I have made bad decisions as a romantic relationship role model, that is for sure. But as far as everything else: school, work, self-advocacy, critical thinking, self-esteem, encouraging uniqueness, supporting their choices, not being a blind follower, talking about sex, drugs, and unconditional love, etc….I rock that.  I couldn’t imagine having to deal with any of the things I experienced because I have prided myself on being such a “better” parent than I had. And I am a better parent, my toolbox is better stocked. My education is more complete. But better is a relative term, I suppose.

The main difference between my parenting and my childhood is that I have made it a point to do the absolute opposite of what my parents did; in these specific situations.

And it’s hard.

I panic.

I don’t know what a “normal” parent would do.

I don’t always know what the appropriate thing to do is.

I know what I would tell a client.

I know what I would tell a friend.

But they aren’t my kids.

They aren’t me.

They don’t have my experiences.

And therein lies the rub.

All I can do is hope I have interrupted a pattern. Hope that when it’s my children’s turn as parents, that they don’t experience these crises. If they do, I hope they handle it even better than I did.