God help you if you are a Phoenix….
“My mother was a phoenix who always expected to rise from the ashes of her latest disaster. She loved being Judy Garland.” ~ Lorna Luft
Oh the multitude of ponderings my brain has been chock full of as of late; contradictions and questions which appear to have no answers. I over-think things, it is true. But recently, I have been trying to get out of the habit of doing so when that over-thinking does not serve my better interests.
The questions I am asking are things like, can I change anything about this situation? Am I fixating on reality or possibility? Is what I am thinking about in the past? If so, I can’t change it…only my perception of it. Is it in the future? If so, I can’t change it, only my participation in it. Is this something I am feeling or is it an emotion, because they really are not the same thing.
I am also trying to keep myself in check by examining those feelings and making sure that they are not hijacked feelings from another experience; I have a terrible tendency to finally experience things at the wrong time…. Which is to say that I may dissociate from something at the time and apply those feelings to another situation which totally does not warrant it. I do not think I am unique in this, you do it too, if you are honest with yourself.
I have also been thinking about not being so hard on myself…I seem to make allowances for people who do not treat me in the same fashion as I treat them, be it in physical life or in the ethereal relationship; I make excuses for them because of their traumas and the effects that they have had upon their life and personality; yet I treat myself much more harshly and without forgiveness without taking into account my own traumas, mental health, struggles, etc.
I hold myself to much higher standards than many of the people I surround myself with. I have really been trying to look at this and decipher why… is it so I can feel better than them because I do not let things affect me? Because if that is my motivation, I am truly self deluded, because it isn’t true. I am human. I am fucked up. I am in love with the world and I hate the world all in one singular breath.
I don’t know what it is, really.
I know that I am honest.
I know that I am loyal, to a fault.
I know that I trust others more than I trust myself in situations wherein I should do the opposite.
I know I am attracted to misanthropic men and needy women.
I know that I want to be independent and taken care of and/or protected all at the same time.
I know that I am kind.
I know that I always think of how things will affect and are affecting others before myself; this causes me strife internally and externally.
I expend much more emotional energy into others expecting it will always be reciprocal and then I feign shock when it is not.
But I know that even when I am not surprised that I will do it again.
Because I believe in people.
I believe that no one is ever beyond needing others.
I know that I am not going to always be that other.
And I believe in love.
And I know that it will come back to me in one way or another.
Rinse and repeat.
So since I am a relative blogging virgin (or atleast newbie) yesterday’s foray into commentary on the occupy issues left me with some really nasty emails, comments and tweets. What is a commie bootlicker anyway?
Today I have decided to follow Mr. Nate Shenk’s lead and share some lighthearted Christmas memories 🙂
The first specifically Christmas memory I have is from when I was 2 or 3 in Garland, Texas….I was wearing my silky R2D2 C3PO pajamas, came downstairs and got a strawberry shortcake table. I remember my mom gave me a corndog for breakfast ( I thought it was sooooo weird!) and she served it on one of those old (new then I suppose) square tubberware plates, it was red and I mixed my mustard and ketchup together with my fingers…I got hollared at….Then sometime during the day, at night I think, we watched “The Wizard of Oz” on tv. I didn’t make it all the way through.
The first Christmas I had with my son was spent in Eugene, Oregon. It was my first experience in Oregon that was out of the desert….I fell in love with the Northwest then. We mowed the lawn! Everything was green! It was fantastic! My son was much more interested in army crawling around and eating the pine needles and ornaments and wrapping paper than any of the presents we got him 🙂
The first Christmas with my daughter, she was about the same age as my son during his first Christmas (spring babies). Similar experience, although, I believe she really really liked the lights alot more because she would just stare at them forever, quietly. If you know my daughter or knew her as a baby, quietly is not how she did, or does, ANYTHING>
My best Christmas with my husband, was spent on the coast of Oregon. We came all the way from Twin Falls, Idaho to see the Decemberists in Portland at the Crystal Ballroom and spent a few days going to breweries and messing around on the coast (which is soooo nice in the winter not so much in the summer lol) On Christmas Eve, we ate in a restaurant in Yachats that has since been closed. We sat at a table by the window looking at all the old Rock Concert posters, watching the tide come into the estuary…The sun was setting and this song was playing, it was all very romantic. He was eating spagetti and meatballs and joked about how we should do the lady and the tramp thing…I rolled my eyes and laughed, he is very cheesy that way…And then he proposed. It was like in a movie. Perfection.
Hope your holiday is cheesy and as close to your version of perfection as possible….And if it isn’t, oh well…you can always just fingerpaint on your plate then.