Wednesday, 30 June 2010

Conversation is accidental

So much of our important conversation is accidental. Experienced planned occasions for conversation (the weekly phone call to mum or to a close friend) often does not achieve a sense of closeness with a person, whomever that person may be.

True intimate sharing of thoughts and experiences with someone involves a consistent presence, so that spontaneous thoughts can be shared and conversation flows and isn't necessarily forced.

Monday, 28 June 2010

Just one day

How much difference can one day honestly make? I have been raging against this question all day. In the blue corner, we have All In One Day! Annnd in the red corner, we have Everything Takes Time!!

I am impatient by nature, extremely impatient (although I will resent anyone who says it's because I am a Gen-Yer, I was raised believing I am a Gen-Xer so you can't blame my impatience, generations withstanding, on my Yness or Xness), and although I do possess patience for some things (teaching, for some bizarre reason, and sewing) I do not possess general patience in life. Gimme my perfect life, I want it now! Quite what that perfect life is I'm not quite sure yet, but I still want it! (Side note, I know there are cushions involved, and I've made those cushion covers myself, yes.)

I suppose for me, one day can make all the difference. If I don't know you well once you've fallen out of grace I hesitate to admit it'll take you quite a bit to get back there, if you can at all. Although it takes a lot for anyone close to fall out of grace with me...BUT once you're off that wagon, that wagon waits for no one.

Sometimes when I write the issues don't resolve themselves, I apologise.

Friday, 25 June 2010

TFI Friday

Thank Goodness It's Friday!

I can never decide whether I want time to fly or crawl, I suppose it's a good thing time isn't in my hands!

This week has just flown by, but this usually means the weekend will fly by even faster (what with there being less of it and all).

With each passing year time seems to spin even faster. Is this part of the theory of relativity?

Thursday, 24 June 2010

A poem by 16 year old me

Wind on my face
Salt in the air
Water in the sea
Dirt in my hair
Flowers that bloom
Bright morning sun
White fluffy clouds
Poo up by bum

Wednesday, 23 June 2010

Shades of black and grey

I am beginning to love that there are shades of grey in life. When I was much younger I believed only black and white really existed, but more and more I am seeing shades of grey in everything and I find this oddly comforting (you would think the opposite to be true). I suppose it's some form of maturity, and probably more so life experience that teaches me this.

I agree that there are things in life that are quite obviously abhorrent and inconceivable, and I am not condoning the commission of any sort of atrocity. But my point is that there are shades of grey even in those abhorrent events. Something wrong to one may not be so for another, and so on. (And I apologise in advance if this idea causes any offence).

To a degree I would agree if you were to accuse me of fence sitting, but sometimes I prefer it up here, at least as a temporary option. Until I know which side of the fence is the better side, as an almost certainty, I'm going to stay on the fence and observe - is there anything so wrong with that?

To be fair, on myself that is, for some things I do not fence-sit, but rather am located squarely on "a side" (for instance I have never considered it bad to eat chocolate or ice-cream, in my view whatever your "diet" you should be able to partake in these delicious delicacies).

A most surprising turn of events is a recently learned idea, that some consider me to be a "strong" person. The fact that at times I consider myself quite sensitive and vulnerable apparently doesn't factor into this at all, it seems to only strengthen this viewpoint. I suppose I feel as though I am strong in some ways, though in other ways a feather could knock me out cold.

What makes a person strong? Does the fact that I go for what I want, or stand by what I have decided (painful obstacles notwithstanding) make me strong? Is it that once I've made up my mind I stick to my guns until I grow up enough to see that there are more shades of grey I have uncovered? Is it that even though I am fragile I still do these things?

This of course brings about the old adage, "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger". I think there is truth to this. But what of people who have not had to endure some sort of extreme pain? Does any such person exist? How do you even compare types of pain? Is pain even relevant to strength? Perhaps strength is tested and proves endurable once, and only once, some sort of pain is present.

Strength does not necessariliy relieve the severity of pain though. If I possess any strength then I can attest to this firsthand. I find the most soothing antidote to pain are these shades of grey that I can see everywhere. It diminishes the effect of hurtful words and gives objectivity to hurtful behaviours.

Tuesday, 22 June 2010

Happiness is...

More and more I am becoming convinced that life is not supposed to be easy, and that sometimes you have to be able to take your happiness wherever you can find it. Actually, I think I have heard or read this before (probably both) but, I suppose, it's meaning is finally oozing into my consciousness.

A happy disposition often makes for the spreading of general feelings of wellbeing, much like a contagious virus. And I think that the opposite is also true. How often have you found yourself arguing with everyone only to realise later you were the antagonist. Then, of course, there are the times that you smile at a stranger for no reason and they grin madly back at you (it's impossible not to).

I don't even think it really matters how such a state comes into existence or how long it should last, only that it was. Many a happy memory is replayed in my mind and often I find this sustains me. Also, many a fantasy of happier times has in the past sustained and motivated me to make good decisions, or rather decisions that would make for me new and cherished happy memories for the future sustaining of my soul.

I wonder at this point what causes those moments to fulfil us in such a way. And there doesn't seem to be any fantastic consistency that makes happiness happen in the same way you can a chocolate cake. Eggs, butter, sugar, chocolate, milk plus flour does not always equal happiness, but it will always make a chocolate cake (and indeed for some this is happiness, include me in that one, so long as it has icing).

Sometimes we crave complicated unachievable ends toward the pursuit of the golden life full of happy moments, investing hours of energy, tears and sleepless nights, and yet, some of my most happy memories have come about by complete accident. I'm not talking about moments that seem magical wherein you sigh and wistfully wish it could go on forever. I'm talking about moments of pure joy. Although, is there any real difference? Do these moments blur under the one label of 'happy'?

Does experiencing something worthwhile, whether this stimulates a feeling of happiness or sadness, lessened if it does not bring pure joy? And is happiness generally a feeling of satisfaction and contentment or is it joy and laughter? Is consistent laughing resultant in happiness?

So many questions.

I have been attending mindfulness therapy on and off over the past year to resolve some issues that overwhelmed me and for which I am in need of ongoing assistance. The biggest thing that has spoken to me from this study of mindfulness is acceptance. That whatever we feel, whether it is happy, sad, anger, jealousy, contentment, joy, is what it is, not to be diminished or dispensed of, but accepted because it is.

Oddly, I have found joy in this fact alone and I have noticed a considerable abatement of the anxiety I have recently experienced. There is joy and happiness and contentment because I am.

Don't eat all the vegetables!

One of my fondest childhood memories is sitting in Mum's kitchen while she prepared dinner, baked bread, or cooked my family a treat. We had an island bench in the middle of our kitchen. Mum would be doing her thing on her side of the bench, I would sit on the other side and watch her, and we would chat and drink tea.

I would always snack on vegetables she would chop (my favourite was green bean ends). Sometimes mum would say, "don't eat all the vegetables or we'll have none for dinner!"

Saturday, 19 June 2010

Coloured pencils


There is something so wonderful about coloured pencils, I can never have enough of them. I love them most standing upright in a clear glass jar, their colourful tips pointing towards the sky.

I was given my very first set of coloured Derwents as a very young child. My Dad put them in a cupboard to keep for special occasions, and I would ask him if I could use them to colour in. I still have those pencils now. Red was consistently my favourite colour.

The red pencil is now a very short stump.